đ€Maeaâs Worldđ€
~Capricorn~Earth Lover~Part time writer, Full time lover girl~
I currently write for Joel Miller, Tommy Miller, and Jack Abbot, and am open to writing for Pope Cody, and Michael Robinavitch, butâŠ
Requests are welcome and open!
Limits: I wonât write anything to do with minors, scat, or vomit.
If you arenât sure about something that you want me to write about, feel free to ask! Iâm sure there are things Iâm not familiar with, and I will let you know if Iâm comfortable with it or not!
Please like, reblog, and comment to show my works some love! <3
Series
đž The Face of Loves Rage (Dark! Joel Miller x F! Reader)
Status: Ongoing
Rating: 18+
Description: Told through a series of events set in the 1970's and journal entries from the readers' perspective, this fic recounts the events between a runaway in North Texas who encounters a mysterious man who offers her a ride around the country with him and a chance at a new and free life. But will they both get more than they bargained for?
â€ïžâđ„The Crush (Stepdad! Jack Abbot x F! Reader)
Description: You come home for summer break from college to be greeted with a new stepdad, whom you quickly develop an unhealthy obsession with. Inspired by the movie "The Crush".
One Shots
đ Santa Baby (Joel Miller x F! Reader)
Rating: 18+
Description: After agreeing to Tommyâs idea of being a fill-in singer for the winter dance, youâre introduced to his much older, hotter brother, and are unable to stop yourself from wanting more from him when the night is through.
đ Let Him Make A Woman Out Of Me(Joel Miller x f! Reader)
Rating: 18+
Description: After coming back to your hometown after graduating college, you finally feel the relief of having finished your degree, what you worked so hard for, so you decide to let loose for the summer and enjoy what you didnât always get to since being so busy. Little did you know, that would include some extra attention from your neighbors, who havenât seen you in four years, and just want to know everything they can. Joel Miller included.
đ Two for One(Joel x f!reader x Tommy)
Rating: 18+
Description: Your neighbors offer to help fix up your car after you think you may have to get rid of it. They think of an unconventional way to pay them back.
Headers and dividers by @cursed-carmine and @dividers-are-us
Robby has never been a fan of birthdays. This year, loneliness drives him to download Tinder on an impulse, only to come across the last person he expected to find there: his favorite resident.
warning/tags: minors DNI, p0rn with little plot, masturbating, sexting, pet names (sweetheart and good girl) robby loves talking you through it, unprotected piv, pussy eating, multiple orgasms, body hair, fingering, creampie, handjob, kinda softdom!robby, age gap (I imagined reader being in her 20s or 30s but could be in her 40s too, tried to keep it broad)
For those of you who read it the first or second time I uploaded it: during the days the fic was down, I expanded some scenes, added a bit more dialogue, and made it a little kinkier along the way. You might want to read it again for some extra content
He knew this was stupid, plainly a terrible idea. On any other day, the thought wouldnât have even crossed his mind, but today wasnât any ordinary day. Today was his birthday. Fifty-five years old, and he had never felt more lost in his own life. Nothing had turned out the way heâd once imagined it would. If someone had told him, back when he was a resident, that he would still be coming home to an empty apartment at this age, no wife curled up on the couch waiting for him with a tired but loving smile, no chorus of small feet thundering toward the door, shoving drawings into his hands and saying âLook what I made for you today, daddy!â he would have laughed in their face and called it a cruel joke.
Yet here he was. No relationship had ever survived the weight of the hours and the way his mind stayed trapped in the ED long after he left it. He couldnât be present anymore, not the way a partner deserved. The job had hollowed him out in ways he hadnât noticed until it was too late.
It had been almost a year since he ended things with Noelle, not long after he returned from his sabbatical. Heâd told himself it was the right thing to do. Maybe it really was better this way. At this point in his life, trying again felt pointless, almost selfish. He was saving whatever good women were still out there from the inevitable complications of loving Michael Robinavitch.
But today the emptiness hit differently. The apartment felt quieter than usual, and his thoughts were louder, circling like a vulture. He knew it was the birthday doing this to him. Birthdays had a way of dragging the sorrows out into the light, every missed milestone, every abandoned version of the life he thought heâd have. Jack had tried to pull him out of it, offering a beer after shift, but Robby had politely declined. He wasnât in the mood for forced cheer, for anyone raising a glass to another year of the same.
Heâd made it clear to the whole department that he didnât want any birthday cake, no cards, no presents, nothing. Still, the well-meaning murmurs had followed him all day: âHappy birthday, Dr. Robby,â each one met with a progressively wearier smile until the words blurred together. By the end of the shift, he was only managing quiet nods of acknowledgment, the kind that said thank you and please stop at the same time.
So here he was, in an apartment that was too big for himself, lying on a couch that felt even bigger, downloading Tinder on his phone. He rubbed a hand over his face, heâd tried Tinder once, maybe two years ago. Downloaded it, swiped for a week, then deleted it when the superficial nonsense started bothering him too much.
He started with the basics. Photos. Robby opened his gallery and scrolled slowly through the meager collection. Most of the images were work-related, grainy screenshots of charts, or blurry shots of trees and roads heâd taken during his bike rides. After a long hesitation, he picked a silly selfie heâd sent Jack a few weeks earlier. He was holding up the book the two of them had been texting about, half-smiling at the camera like he felt ridiculous even taking it. It wasnât terrible, he supposed. He looked⊠friendly. Approachable, maybe.Â
Next, he chose one from the department barbecue heâd actually forced himself to attend last summer. He was wearing the sleeves rolled up on a button-down shirt, and holding a beer in his hand. He didnât hate it, it showed a version of himself that still showed up for people, even when he didnât feel like it. The last one was from the hospital fundraiser gala two years ago. He looked elegant in that photo in a black suit, but he had to crop Jack out of the frame, his face was still half-visible over his shoulder. Three photos, not exactly a compelling portfolio, but they were honest, he wasnât pretending to be anyone other than himself.
He moved on to preferences. Gender: Women. Age range⊠His thumb froze. At first, he set it to 50â60. Women at the same stage he was, maybe divorced, maybe widowed, or just tired of feeling alone. But then something flickered in his chest, part curiosity and part desperation, and before he could talk himself out of it, he dragged the lower end down. Twenty to sixty. The wider net felt reckless, almost embarrassing. But what if the love of his life existed somewhere in that range? What if he missed her by something as stupid as a single year on a slider?
As if the love of your life was sitting on Tinder on a Sunday night, he thought. Donât be fucking stupid, Robby.
He stared at the screen for a long moment, and with a quiet sigh that sounded too much like surrender, he tapped confirm. Now it was time for the bio. Robby stared at the blank field for a long minute. What the hell was he supposed to say? He wasnât looking for anything specific. Company? Distraction? Someone who wouldnât mind a man who came home at crazy hours, sometimes covered in blood and whocarried more baggage than he could carry?
He typed slowly what felt the most honest: âER doctor in Pittsburgh. Love long bike rides to clear my head and 70s rock. Not entirely sure what Iâm looking for here, but if you can handle sarcasm and odd hours, we might get along.â
He read it back. It sounded stiff, after all, he wasnât used to this. But it was him, and so he hit save before he could overthink it more. The app prompted him to start swiping. Robby leaned back against the couch as the profiles began loading, smiling faces, pictures of holiday destinations, and bios full of lists of requirements. He swiped left on most without much thought.Â
Left. Left. Left. Some of the women seemed nice, but nothing pulled him in. He kept going until the endless scroll of faces started blurring together. No one stuck, just the same hollow feeling that had driven him to download the damn thing in the first place.
But then your profile appeared. Robbyâs entire body froze. The photo loaded first: you, one of his own residents. You were standing in scrubs outside the Pitt with the same smirk you got after a particularly chaotic shift. âJesus Christ,â he muttered as the heat crawled up his neck. Awkward didnât even begin to cover what he was feeling right now.Â
At work you were talented and dedicated, but still green enough that he rode you hard during shifts. And here you were on Tinder, of all places. The thought that you, or anyone else from the department, might stumble across his profile made his stomach twist with embarrassment. He could already imagine the gossip: Dr. Robby on Tinder. How pathetic.
He should swipe left immediately, delete his profile, and pretend this never happened. Instead, curiosity won. Robby tapped on your profile, telling himself it was just⊠professional concern. Making sure you werenât doing anything stupid. He cared about his residents. Yeah, that was it.
Your bio loaded beneath the main photo: âIf you like girls who will force you to watch her Letterboxd top four and then talk your ear off for hours about the hidden meaning behind her favorite songs, then Iâm your girl. Emergency med resident with zero free time. Not looking for anything serious, just fun, meeting people, seeing where it goes.â
Robby let out a chuckle despite himself, the sound was unexpected in the quiet of the moment. He had only ever seen you in the chaos of the ED, running on adrenaline and too little sleep. But this version of you felt⊠different. He found himself thinking about how little he actually knew you. How little heâd allowed himself to know.
He didnât know where you were from, or what your family was like, whether you had siblings who called too often or parents you tried to make proud. He didnât know what you did outside of the hospital besides the occasional beer in the park, or what made you laugh until your sides hurt. All those small and ordinary pieces of a life that existed outside the emergency department.
It felt strangely intimate, seeing you like this. Like stumbling across a part of you he wasnât supposed to have access to. A version of you that wasnât filtered through the hierarchy of resident and attending. Up until now, you had been âhis residentâ, contained within the professional boundaries heâd carefully maintained.
He started swiping through your photos. The second picture was you laughing in what looked like a group hike, with your hair windblown and your eyes bright. You looked undeniably pretty. Objectively, heâd always known you were attractive. The kind of natural attractiveness that turned heads in the hospital corridors even when you were exhausted and covered in sweat. But once again, heâd never thought about it. You were a resident, heâd gone down that path before, and itâd ended badly. That made you off-limits, end of story.
The third photo was of you in a cozy sweater, curled up with a book and a mug of coffee. It was cute, almost sweet. The kind of image that made the loneliness in his chest ache. He kept swiping until the last photo hit him like a defibrillator. You were on a beach somewhere sunny and sandy, wearing a bikini. Your skin was glowing under the sun, and you were smiling at the camera in a confident pose, the kind of effortless beauty that could stop any man cold. Holy fuck, your body barely contained by the fabric of the bikini, the photo capturing the gentle swell and the way the light played across your body.Â
Robbyâs mouth went dry, the heat flooded his face and then lower down his body. He hadnât expected that. Hadnât let himself imagine you like this, outside the hospital, undeniably a woman and not just one of his residents. His pulse kicked up, the nervousness made his hands shake and his grip slippery. He fumbled the phone, trying to swipe left fast. Swipe left, damn it, he thought.
But he accidentally jerked his thumb the wrong way, to the right, and the screen lit up with that unmistakable animation.Â
Itâs a Match!
On the other side of Pittsburgh, you had been lying in bed, still trying to unwind after another brutal twelve-hour shift. Sleep felt miles away, so youâd given in to the guilty habit of late-night Tinder scrolling. Sure, swiping at 1 a.m. probably looked desperate to anyone else, but who cared? It wasnât like you had much of a life outside the hospital anyway.
You swiped left with efficiency. Guy whose entire bio was just a link to his podcast. Left. Gym mirror selfies and nothing else. Left. Self-proclaimed âentrepreneur in the crypto marketâ with a Lamborghini in the background that probably wasnât even his. Left.
How was it this difficult to find someone even remotely decent? You werenât expecting to meet the love of your life in this digital dumpster, but was it really too much to ask for a man with basic social skills and a profile that didnât scream immediate red flags? Someone whose opening line wasnât just âu dtf?â
Guy who still clearly lived with his mom. Another left. âNo feministsâ in the bio, followed by a rant about âhigh value woman.â Left.
Then your thumb froze mid-swipe. Michael Robinavitch. Your heart slammed against your ribs. There he was, Dr. Robby, looking straight into the camera in one of the photos, that familiar half-smile youâd seen a thousand times in the ED, only now it was on a dating app.
You sat up straighter in bed, suddenly wide awake. What the hell was Dr. Robby doing on Tinder? Youâd scrolled through this app for weeks and never seen him before. He must have created the profile recently. The man youâd been quietly (and not-so-quietly) thirsting over since your very first day of residency was right here. One match away.Â
How could you not like Robby? He was everything youâd ever wanted in a man, strong, steady, impossibly smart, and so damn capable it made your legs weak every single time he gave you a calm and yet authoritative instruction in the middle of a trauma.
Youâd lost count of how many times heâd gently reprimanded you for being distracted while charting. He always assumed you were just tired from the long hours. He had no idea that you kept getting lost in vivid daydreams about him: running your fingers through the silver-flecked hair and that coarse, greyish beard, feeling those big hands wrap around your waist, pulling you close.
You loved the way his eyes crinkled warmly behind his glasses when he smiled, the way his voice dropped into that gravelly register when he needed to command attention in the ED⊠it did things to you. Dangerous, addictive things. Sometimes getting in trouble with him felt more exciting than it had any right to.
His Tinder bio was unexpectedly adorable. He looked a little lost, like he wasnât entirely sure he belonged on the app but was willing to put himself out there anyway. That bike is not the only thing Iâd like to ride, you thought, as a little smile tugged at your lips.
His pictures made you melt and sigh at the same time. That warm, contagious smil, the glasses that struck the perfect balance between hot and endearingly sweet. The silver threading through his beard that made you press your thighs together at the mere thought of feeling it against your skin, between your legs, specifically.Â
You swiped slowly through the rest of his photos. Those wide shoulders, that tall and solid frame, that soft belly under the button-down shirt⊠you wanted him in a way you had never wanted anyone before.Â
It was almost pathetic the way your heart did a little skip every time he complimented your work on a tough case. The way your thighs squeezed together almost involuntarily whenever he stepped in close during a complicated procedure, guiding you step by step, his voice low and patient near your ear. âYeah, grab the blade like that⊠make a two-inch incision, softly, very gently.â âHold the tube with your left hand, tight, donât move it.â
It made your mind wander to dangerous places. Was he like that in bed too? The kind of man who talked you through it, calm and devastatingly attentive? In your fantasies, he absolutely was. Late at night, alone in this very bed with nothing but your hand and your imagination, you could almost hear his voice murmuring against your skin: âKeep your legs open for me, nice and wide⊠just like that.â âLook at you⊠already making such a mess. Iâm gonna start with one finger, okay? Think you can be good and take it for me?â
Should you swipe right? It felt like the only logical choice. If he swiped left, which seemed like the most likely outcome, he would never even know youâd swiped on him. But if he did swipe right⊠then maybe, just maybe, you could end up in Robbyâs bed.
Your hopes stayed low. Never in a million years did you actually expect Robby to be attracted to you the way you were to him. You wouldâve noticed something by now, maybe in lingering stares, subtle flirting, or any shift in the way he treated you. But he didnât. He treated you exactly like the rest of the residents: a young doctor he needed to teach, who could sometimes be frustratingly distracted.
Still, you couldnât contain the tiny, thrilled scream that escaped your lips when the screen lit up:
Itâs a Match!
Robby had matched with you. He wanted you too.
âShit!â Robby dropped the phone onto the couch like it had burned him. It bounced once and landed face-up, the match confirmation still glowing on the screen. He and you had just matched on Tinder. All thanks to that goddamn bikini photo and his clumsy, nervous fingers.
He stared at it, feeling his heart hammering harder than it had during the worst trauma cases. This was mortifying. Youâd seen his profile, youâd swiped right, and now you were going to see that heâd swiped right as well. Part of him, the tired and lonely part that had downloaded the app and widened the age range, wondered what youâd think.Â
A dozen what-ifs tumbled through his mind. What if you saw his profile and laughed? That disbelieving laugh when something genuinely surprised you. What if you messaged him first? Maybe it had been a mistake on your end too. Maybe your phone had slipped, or youâd been swiping too fast after a long shift, half-asleep and a little buzzed. Or maybe⊠maybe youâd swiped right on purpose, just to tease him. He could already picture the text popping up on his phone: âOh my god, Dr. Robby. What are you doing on Tinder? lol.â
Robby ran both hands through his hair, exhaling sharply. He picked the phone back up, looking straight at the Send message button. He shouldnât. The responsible thing would be to delete the app, pretend this night never happened, and go back to being your attending, not your Tinder match.Â
Instead, he opened your profile again. Robby tried to move past it, he really did, but his eyes lingered on that last photo far longer than they should have. You in a bikini, your skin glowing under warm sunlight. He couldnât believe that was what you looked like underneath the baggy scrubs you wore every day in the ED.
It felt wrong. Like he wasnât allowed to see you like this, like he was intruding on something deeply private, crossing a line that should never even be approached between an attending and his resident. Guilt twisted in his stomach, but it wasnât enough to make him look away.
His body reacted anyway, a sudden heat stirring unwanted, a throb of arousal he hadnât felt this sharply in longer than he cared to admit. He shifted uncomfortably on the couch, hating himself for it even as the reaction deepened. What the hell is wrong with you, Robby? he told himself, but the self-reproach did nothing to dull the pull. What could he do? You were a woman. A beautiful one, and for the first time, he was seeing you not just as his resident, but as someone undeniably, breathtakingly desirable.
Before he could delete his account and go to bed as he should, your message popped up.
You: hii :)
Robbyâs breath hitched in his throat. For a split second, he swore his heart actually stopped. Then it slammed back into rhythm, pounding so hard he could feel it in his ears, in his temples, in the tightness of his chest. The little smiley face stared back at him from the screen, innocent and cheerful, as if it hadnât just flipped his entire night upside down.
You had matched with him. At eleven at night. On his lonely fucking birthday. What the hell was he supposed to say to you at 11 pm. after accidentally matching with her on Tinder? âHey, funny seeing youâ here felt pathetic. âThis is wildly inappropriateâ felt like a lie because the rush of heat still lingering in his veins said otherwise.
He set the phone down on the coffee table for a moment, dragging a hand over his face for the millionth time. Part of him wanted to delete the match immediately, pretend it never happened, and go to bed like the responsible, professional attending he was supposed to be. But another part, the part that had been sitting alone on his fifty-fifth birthday, couldnât bring itself to swipe left on this one unexpected connection. So he picked the phone back up and stared at the blinking cursor in the message box.
Another message came through a minute later.
You: robby? itâs me from work... guess you saw my profile too haha
Robby let out a long breath, he couldnât avoid it now that youâd initiated a conversation with him. It was better to be direct, explain the mistake to you, and shut this down before it got any more awkward.
Robby: hey
yeah, I saw it
listen, this is embarrassing as hell, i was messing around with the app, dropped my phone and it must have swiped right by accident
sorry about that, didnât mean to make things weird
He hit send and immediately regretted how cold it sounded, but it was the truth. The phone stayed quiet for a moment that stretched too long. He had his eyes fixed on the screen, waiting for your reply so he could shut down this awkward conversation and delete this stupid app before he accidentally matched with anyone else from work.Â
You: oh. so it was a mistake? damn, i thought you had swiped right on purpose. bummer.
Robbyâs eyes widened. You were being direct, not beating around the bush or deflecting by saying it had been a mistake on your end as well. He could practically hear your voice saying it with a teasing edge.
Robby: Sorry about the confusionÂ
i know it might be awkward finding me on here. probably the last person you expected, i donât usually do this.Â
You: honestly it was surprising. didnât peg you as the tinder type at all.Â
but hey, we all have our moments i guess
Robby: iâm not the type
this is my second time ever downloading it and i already regret it, should probably delete the whole thing before i make an even bigger fool of myself.
You: yeah i get it. i thought the match was mutual so i figured iâd say hi. sorry for texting if it was just an accident. didnât mean to make it weirder
Robby read your message twice. Thought the match was mutual. The words echoed in his brain. You had swiped right on purpose, not as a joke, not out of morbid curiosity about your bossâs sad dating life. You had chosen him willingly. The realization of what that meant sent a confusing rush through him. You liked him, that had to be it. The thought of you⊠having a crush on him made a warm feeling run through his body, one he immediately tried to shove down.
Robby: What do you mean you thought it was mutual?
You: idk... i saw the notification and figured you wanted to match with me since it happened. thatâs why i said hi right away. didnât want to leave it hanging if we were both curious
He stared at the screen, his heart beating a little harder. You were so honest and blunt about your feelings, he found himself almost intimidated by it. Some rational part of his brain was trying to tell him this had to be a big joke, there was no way in hell you could like him. You were⊠you. What would you see in a man like him?
Robby: you wanted us to match? seriously?
You: lol yeah i did swipe right, didnât i? your profile was actually really nice. the book pic is cute and the 70s rock mention made me smile. plus... i donât know, youâre interesting. figured why not. no pressure though
Robby: i thought maybe you did it out of curiosity
or just to see if Iâd swiped on you didnât expect you to actually want that
You: well i did. but if it was an accident on your end then no big deal. we can pretend this never happened and go back to normal tomorrow. i wonât mention it at work or anything. promise
Robby let his head fall back against the couch, closing his eyes for a long moment as he exhaled heavily. He knew exactly what the responsible Chief of Emergency Medicine should do right now: unmatch immediately, delete his profile, and pretend the entire night had been nothing more than a lonely fever dream.
But tonight⊠tonight he didnât want to be responsible. He didnât want to be Dr. Robinavitch, the attending who had sacrificed nearly every personal connection, every version of a fuller life, on the altar of the ED. For once, he wanted to be Michael. Just Michael. The man who had matched with you on Tinder. The man who was currently staring at his phone with his heart hammering like he was twenty years younger.
Before he could piece together a polite but firm way to end the conversation and retreat back into the safety of professional distance, another message appeared.
You: i think your profileâs part of the reason i swiped right. the book picâs really nice
He smiled faintly at that, a rare genuine twitch at the corner of his mouth. Robby leaned forward, placing his elbows on his knees.
Robby: your profileâs pretty good too, better than most of the ones iâve seen tonight
You: aww thanks. yourâs so much better than the usual bullshit on here which is not that hard to be
but still finding you here is a nice change :)
Robby: you on this app a lot? seems like youâve got the profile down
You: not really. iâve been on a couple dates from here but itâs honestly exhausting. hard to find someone decent in this city. most guys are either looking for hookups with zero conversation or theyâre boring as hell. you know how it is
Robby: fair enough.
your age range must be set pretty high if it pulled me up
fifty five isnât exactly the usual crowd for you or is it?
You: haha yeah well
 i like older men
Those four stupid words hit him square in the chest like a defibrillator. âI like older men.â Robby reread them slowly, feeling a dangerous warmth bloom low in his belly and spread outward through his chest. He was an older man, and apparently, that fit exactly into your preferences. Was that flirtation? Were you subtly implying that he was the kind of older man you liked? Or was it just a casual, throwaway comment, something youâd say to any guy on the app who happened to have a few gray hairs?
No. He was spiraling too deep, overthinking it the way he always did. Your words didnât carry some hidden, special meaning meant just for him. They couldnât. And yet⊠No matter how hard he tried to talk himself down, he couldnât ignore the flicker of validation that lit up inside him. He felt desired, really desired. Not just by anyone, but by you: someone younger, and so strikingly pretty it almost hurt to look at your photos for too long. Someone who, in his mind, was clearly way out of his league.
Robby: Itâs okay to have preferencesÂ
everyone does.
You: yeah exactly. i just find older guys more attractive than the ones my age. theyâre usually more mature, know what they want, have actual life experience. itâs... hotter, i guess. plus the conversations are better
He swallowed hard, feeling his throat suddenly dry. He could practically see your face as you typed those words, maybe biting your lower lip in that teasing way you sometimes did right after nailing a difficult procedure.
Then the bikini photo from earlier flashed unbidden through his mind, and the heat in his body flared hotter. He pictured you exactly as youâd looked in that shot: sun-warmed skin, curves barely contained by the fabric. The thoughts he had no right to entertain came rushing in anyway, pulling him deeper. Thoughts of having you all to himself, of finally being able to run his hands slowly over every inch of that bare skin, tracing the line of your waist, sliding up your ribs, cupping the soft weight of your breasts. Of putting his mouth on you and every sensitive spot until you were trembling beneath him.
Robby: makes sense
i usually go for women closer to my stage of life
we have more in common that way
You: do age gaps bother you?
Robby: in what way?
You: like as a concept. are they a problem for you?
Robby: iâm okay with consenting adults doing what they want
as long as everyoneâs on the same page itâs not my business.
You: have you ever been in an age gap relationship or anything like that?
Robby: i once dated a woman a bit younger than me
but usually around my age
He paused before sending the next part, he shouldnât keep engaging in this deeply unprofessional conversation, but curiosity was getting the better of him. And you were simply so easy to talk to that he couldnât stop himself from letting his walls down a little.
He typed before he could second-guess himself.
Robby: how much older are we talking anyway?
the men you usually like i mean.
Your reply came fast, like youâd been waiting with the phone in hand.
You: usually over fifty up until their sixties or so. around that range. but itâs just a preference, nothing crazy. i feel like older men usually treat you better. theyâre more gentlemanly, know how to actually listen, and they tend to understand what a woman wants... in every way, if you know what i mean ;)
Robby read the message twice. Three times. Four. Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck. Fuck me. You werenât just being polite or making casual conversation. That winky face, the implication hanging there about âevery wayâ. You were deliberately flirting with him, there was no other way to see it. He shifted on the couch, suddenly very aware of his own body and the fact that it had been a long damn time since anyone had spoken to him like that.
He took a slow breath and replied, trying to keep some semblance of control.
Robby: do you date men closer to your own age too?Â
or is it mostly the older crowd?
You: i have tried guys closer to my age. some of them are sweet but a lot are still figuring their shit out. you should try dating a woman younger than you sometime though. maybe itâs exactly what you need.
Robby didnât know what to say. The words hung there, full of possibilities around them. He was still wrestling with a response when another message from you popped up.
You: anyway sorry again for the confusion earlier. iâll leave you alone so you can keep scrolling through profiles. iâll go back to robbing the graves haha (joke, get it? because i like older guys... sorry that was sooo bad)
Robby chuckled despite the whirlwind in his head. The joke was cheesy, so perfectly you that it cut through some of the tension. But it also gave him an out, you were offering to back off and let this weird moment fade into nothing before tomorrowâs shift made everything awkward as hell. Part of him wanted to take the exit ramp, wish you a good night, unmatch, delete the app, and pretend none of this happened. But another part, the one that had been sitting alone on his birthday didnât want the conversation to end.
He tapped over to your photos again, almost against his will. There it was the last one. You on the beach in that bikini, with the perfect swell of your tits catching the sunlight. Holy fuck. He wanted you, the realization hit him all of a sudden, making him switch back to the chat and move his thumbs almost on autopilot.
Robby: Nothing to apologize for
honestly youâve kept me better company tonight than I expected
You: see? younger women can be good company too :) you shouldnât close the door so fast. you could meet someone nice if you give it a chance
Robby: you shouldnât close the door on guys your own age either
there are decent ones out there, youâll find someone who can keep up with you
You: out of all the guys iâve matched with here... youâre easily the best one. no contest
Robby: Really? that canât be rightÂ
youâre selling yourself short.
You: no i mean it. youâre exactly the kind of man iâd usually go for. tall, older, smart... and hot
The word hot hit him harder than it had any right to. His face flushed deeper, his clothes felt constricting, his pants uncomfortably tight. Robbyâs cock was already half-hard, thickening and pulsing insistently against the zipper of his jeans with every new message.
All because youâd called him hot. Just a little cheeky, playful comment, and it was enough to unravel him. The touch starvation wasnât helping. It had been so damn long since anyone had looked at him with real interest, longer still since heâd felt this fluttering feeling low in his stomach. This rush of ego, this sharp need to be close to someone, to be wanted, to touch and be touched.
Robby: thanks i guess
youâll meet someone worth your time, youâre a good girlÂ
The message was sent before he could fully reconsider the wording. The second it went through, Robby winced. It sounded weirdly sexually charged, maybe it was because he was feeling sexually charged, painfully so. A Freudian slip at its finest.
You: good girl? đ
Robby: shit i didnât mean it to sound weird
just a figure of speech i suppose.
You: should i call you daddy then? ;)
Robby nearly dropped the phone again. The winky face, the bold suggestion, the way it played so perfectly into the tension that had been building sent a bolt of pure want through him. He could imagine your voice saying it, teasingly so, with that mischievous glint in your eyes. His mind supplied far too many vivid images: you in nothing but your skin looking up at him, you saying it in person with a flirty smile. He was fully hard. Actually hard, just from a fucking text conversation.
The professional alarm bells were clanging loudly in the back of his head. This was his resident, the age gap, the power dynamic, the fact that youâd have to face each other at the Pitt in a few short hours... it was all wrong. But god, it felt good. For the first time in a long time, he didnât feel quite so alone.
He glanced down at the obvious bulge in his sweatpants, his cock straining against the fabric like a flagpole. He couldnât believe it. One flirty text from his resident and he was rock hard. Donât get hard for your fucking resident, he thought. Sheâs one of your own. Off-limits. This is insane. He adjusted himself uncomfortably, trying to will it down through stubbornness, but the ache only sharpened.
You: too much? sorry i was just messing around lol
Robby exhaled and typed back, trying to sound more composed than he felt.
Robby: Donât worry about it
i know it was a joke, no harm done
You: it was... unless you donât want it to be a jokeÂ
He let out a surprised laugh, his cock twitched again at the follow-up, you were relentless, and something told him you were noewhere near done.
Robby: youâre funny, iâll give you that.
You: thatâs what iâve been told. glad youâre having fun with me tonight
Robby: Well, I guess I should let you get some sleep
early shift tomorrow and all
You: i donât mind staying up. i swiped right on you, remember? yk for a minute i really thought you were gonna flirt with me or maybe even ask me to come over to your place or something
The words hung there. You had been excited, you had hoped he would flirt. The image flashed through his mind, you showing up at his door in the middle of the night, stepping inside and⊠He shifted again, pressing his hand down against his insistent erection through his sweatpants, trying to get some relief even as guilt gnawed at him. This was crossing so many lines heâd promised himself he wouldnât cross after Heather. But the loneliness that had driven him to download the app in the first place was quieter now, replaced by an electric tension.
Robby: that would be very inappropriate
iâm your boss and there are lines we canât cross
You: but youâre not dr. robby my attending in here. youâre michael robinavitch, 55, the guy who loves 70s rock and long bike rides. and iâm not your resident in this chat. iâm just a girl who likes movies and older men... and who is really, really into you right now
You were separating the roles so cleanly, drawing a line between the hospital and this private space. It was tempting, dangerously tempting.Â
Robby: you know it doesnât work like that
we canât just turn it off when the shift starts tomorrow
You: nah iâm pretty sure i can
Robby: No.
You: If we really canât meet then we can do it over text, you know.
He stared at the screen trying to guess if you really meant what you were saying.Â
Robby: what do you mean?
You: sexting, duh
He let out a short breath, Jesus fuck you were actually gonna kill him tonight.
Robby: thatâs basically the same thing.
You: no itâs not. technically weâre not doing anything if itâs just messages. no one has to know.
Robby rubbed a hand over his jaw, his mind was screaming at him to shut this down, but his fingers were already moving. He couldnât believe he was actually considering to do this.
This was a terrible idea. What difference did it really make whether it was real sex, his hands on you, feeling your heat around him, or just describing it in detail over text messages? A line was still a line. One he had promised himself he wouldnât cross again. He didnât want this to end with you giving up your residency, transferring to another hospital, another city, once things inevitably fell apart.
But fuck, his cock was achingly hard, straining against the front of his pants like a caged animal that desperately needed to be freed. The thought of you right now, maybe lying in your bed in, pressing your thighs together, that sweet slick already soaking through your panties because of him⊠it made it impossible to think straight. He couldnât leave you like that, so wet, so needy, aching for him.
Robby: what do you want me to say?
You: i donât know⊠just say something hot. youâre goot at being hot Â
He hesitated, he wasnât sure of what to say. He was scared of seeming naive and old school to you, but he wasnât used to this whole⊠sexting thing. The most spicy exchange over texts had been insinuating pictures before asking someone to come over. Okay think Robby, if you can save someoneâs life under extreme preassure then you can sext with a woman, just say something typical, he thought
Robby: whoâs been a naughty girl?
The second he hit send he regretted it. He winced, already typing another message to backtrack when your reply came through.
You: lmao that was the best youâve got?
Robby groaned out loud, dropping his head back against the couch.Â
Robby: forget it. iâm going to bed
You: nooo wait. letâs try again :(
He shouldâve put the phone down. He really shouldâve. Instead he waited to see if you had anything else to say.
You: youâre so good at giving orders and guiding me at work. maybe you could do that now too? tell me what to do
You were right, in theory. He was good at instructing, guiding, teaching. It came naturally to him to step into that mentoring role, he had always been the one others looked to for direction.
Robby: i feel stupid doing this.
You: pleeeease. iâve always thought you were the kind of guy who talks people through it in bed. itâs the same here, just write it instead of saying it. tell me how you want me to touch myself
Your words hit him hard. He reread the message twice. He had never consciously thought about it before, but yes⊠that did sound exactly like him. Fragments of memory surfaced unbidden: the commanding tone heâd used with past partners, the way heâd instructed them. âOpen your legs for me.â âTurn around.â âLook at me.â He remembered the way their breathing would change, the way theyâd tremble under the weight of his voice and his hands.
Robby: you really want me to talk you through it, sweetheart?
You: yessss that was so much better. keep going
If anyone had asked you how it happened, you honestly wouldnât have been able to explain it. You werenât even sure yourself. One moment you were typing a slightly embarrassed apology to Robby for matching with him and the next, the conversation had taken a turn and you were the one demanding he sext you so you could get off. It was bold, stupidly reckless, and yet it felt inevitable.
Robby: good girl thatâs exactly what I wanted to hear, i want you to get those pretty legs spread nice and wide for me, can you do that?
You whimpered softly and obeyed him instantly, letting your knees fall farther apart on the mattress. The cool air hit your exposed pussy making you shiver.Â
You: yes. theyâre open
Robby: Perfect
iâd be on my knees between them right now if I could
run your fingers up the inside of your thighs for me slowly, feel how soft they are
As you trailed your free hand up one thigh, you imagined his callused palms and the scratch of his greying beard following the same path.
You: doing it⊠feels so good thinking about your hands instead.
Robby: thatâs my girl
 now slide two fingers through your pussy and ell me how wet you are for me
You did exactly as he says, gasping as two fingers glided easily through your slick heat. You were soaked, embarrassingly so, the wet sounds filling the quiet bedroom as you stroked yourself.
You: So wet⊠iâm dripping. all because of you.
Robby: fuck i knew you would be
i want you to circle your clit for me now
Do it slowly and imagine itâs my tongue instead, licking you just the way you need
iâd take my time, taste every inch of you
Your mons got louder, tipping your head back against the pillows as your fingers obeyed, traxing circles around your clit that sent sparks up your spine. In your mind, it was Robbyâs mouth devouring you while his strong hands pinned your thighs down.
Robby: how does that feel, sweetheart? tell me
You: so good, iâm so sensitive. keep talking please
Robby: Good
now slide one finger inside that tight pussy, nice and deep
curl it up just like I would, searching for that spot that makes your legs shake
iâd be watching your face the whole time, telling you how beautiful you look spread open for me, how good you are for listening
When you pushed a finger inside yourself, you curled it upward as instructed to hit that sensitive spot while your other hand kept working your clit in circles.Â
Robby: add another finger and stretch yourself open
iâd be so much thicker than your fingers, but weâll start like this
imagine me pumping them in and out while i rub your clit
Adding a second finger, you continued fucking yourself to the rhythm of his words on the screen. It was not enough, it was nowhere near enough to calm the hunger and desperation that was threatening to consume your whole being. You knew nothing would be enough, only feeling him inside of you.
You: wish it was you inside me. canât get off like this. i need you robby please
Robby: you were the one who told me to do thisÂ
You: i know i did. but itâs not enough
send me your address
He was tempted, so tempted that for one second his fingers almost started typing on an impulse. But the reality crashed back in immediately. The risks, the morning after, the way heâd have to look at you during rounds, knowing what youâd done. He was rock hard and aching for you, but the responsible part of him still refused to crumble completely.
Robby: what for?Â
youâre not seriously thinking about coming over right now, are you?
You: robby iâm literally only like 2 miles away from you. are you dtf? not as dr. robinavitch and his resident, but as two adults who casually matched on tinder tonight. thereâs no title or hospital here. itâs just us.
Two miles. You were so close. He stared at your message, feeling his heart slamming against his ribs. His cock gave another insistent throb, the head already leaking a little against his underwear. The thought of you actually coming over, right now, in the middle of the night, made his mouth go dry.
Robby: Send me your address and Iâll order you a ride.Â
You sent your address a moment later. It really was only two miles away. He confirmed the ride, watching the estimated arrival time tick down. Fifteen minutes⊠only fifteen minutes until youâd be at his door.
You: this is exactly what i meant earlier about older guys. so much more gentlemanly. taking care of the details instead of just telling me to get there
You had no time to get ready, and honestly, you didnât care. Makeup? Hair? None of that mattered when you were this desperate, this aching for him. You climbed out of bed still wearing the thin tank top and soft sleep shorts youâd worn to bed, and threw an oversized jacket over everything, one that swallowed most of your body and made you look far more put-together than you actually felt.
Your hands were shaking as you grabbed your keys and phone. The rideshare arrived sooner than you expected. The drive across the city felt both endless and far too short, but eventually the car pulled up outside his building.
You stood on the sidewalk for a second, staring up at the apartment complex, suddenly hit with the full weight of what you were doing, showing up at your attendingâs door in the middle of the night, soaked and trembling with need, because a stupid Tinder match had spiraled completely out of control.
But you didnât hesitate for long, you took a deep breath, pulled the jacket tighter around yourself, walked toward his door and knocked on it.
Robby opened it right away. He didnât say a word, the second you were in reach, you had one of his strong hands cupping the back of your neck as he pulled you into a kiss. It was electric to say the least. His mouth claimed yours with a hunger that stole your breath. His beard was scraping deliciously against your skin as he moved his lips with experienced urgency. You melt into it instantly, fisting your hands in his shirt, tasting the pure, overwhelming taste of him. Finally. Here he was, kissing you like heâd been starving for it just as much as you had.
He kicked the door shut behind him without breaking the kiss, wrapping his other arm around your waist and pulling you flush against his taller frame. You felt the warmth of his hands roaming everywhere, gripping your hips, sliding up your sides, squeezing the curve of your ass through the fabric of your shorts. In your mouth, he groaned, making a vibrating sound that went through you as he explored every inch he could reach, like he was memorizing the feel of you.Â
Your breasts were the next to get his attention, he was cupping them with his big hands through your tank top, brushing his thumb over your already hard nipple, while he tangles his other hand in your hair, tilting your head to deepen the kiss.
You pulled back just enough to gasp against his lips, âIt took you long enough.â
Robby chuckled, the sound coming out breathless. âTook you long enough. You have any idea what itâs like waiting twenty minutes for you with a hard-on?â He pressed you closer, letting you feel the thick and insistent bulge against your stomach.Â
As if they had a mind of their own, his hands couldnât stop moving, squeezing, caressing, claiming, running down your back, over your thighs, everywhere heâd fantasized about touching. Before you could respond, he bent slightly and lifted you effortlessly. You wrapped your legs around his waist instinctively.Â
The strength in his arms, the way his broad chest felt against you, sent a fresh rush of heat between your legs. He carried you through the house with purposeful strides. The door to your room swung open and he layed you gently on the bed, climbing on top of you immediately until his full weight pressing you deliciously into the mattress.Â
The kissing resumed instantly, slower now but no less intense. Robbyâs mouth was moving from your lips to your neck, sucking lightly and scratching you with his beard in the most perfect way. Now his hands got bolder, continuing their exploration but this time sliding under your tank top, pressing his palms against your bare skin. He lifted the fabric higher, exposing your breasts to the cool air of the room.
âFuck,â Robby groaned, and maybe it was your mind playing tricks on you, but you could see his soft brown eyes turning darker as he stared down at you. âLook at you. These tits⊠so perfect. So fucking pretty.â His voice was rough with want, the same commanding tone. He cupped them reverently, as if they were something precious, circling your nipples until they pebbled tighter under his touch. âTheyâre made for my hands. For my mouth.â
He leaned down and took one nipple into his mouth, sucking it gently at first, then harder, swirling his tongue around the sensitive peak. The wet touch of his tongue made you arch into him with a moan, threading your fingers through his hair as he kept lavishing attention on your breasts.Â
From one side to the other, Robby switched sides, licking and sucking the other while his hand massaged the first, rolling the nipple between his fingers. The dual sensation, the tingly heat of his mouth and the firm squeeze of his callused hand, had you writhing beneath him, making you so wet you were soaking through your shorts.
The humming of his mouth against your skin sends sparks straight to your core. âSo responsive,â he murmured, switching back to the first breast and sucking it harder than before. âThese tits are going to ruin me. I could spend hours right here.â Sliding his free hand down your side, Robby gripped your hip possessively, continuing with the worshipping of your chest, licking broad stripes, sucking marks into the soft flesh, massaging and kneading until he had you panting and grinding up against the hard line of his cock through his pants.
The age difference between you only heightened everything, his experience was showing in every skilled touch, in every perfect flick of his tongue. He was being patient but hungry, like heâd been holding back for far too long. You could feel how hard he was, he was making you feel it, pressing insistently against your thigh. The knowledge that you did this to him made you even wetter.
Robby lifts his head briefly to lock his eyes on yours. His lips were swollen and his beard slightly damp with his saliva. âTell me if itâs too much,â he said, but his hands never stopped, squeezing and caressing, teasing your sensitive nipples with his thumbs as he waited for your answer.
You shook your head, pulling him back down. Youâd rather die than stop right now. âDonât stop. Please.â
His mouth trailed a hot path down your sternum, over your stomach, scraping you teasinglywith his beard against your skin and leaving a trail of goosebumps in its wake. His hands followed strong, sliding down your sides and gripping your hips as he settled between your spread thighs. The weight of him, the sheer size and presence of this man, made your core clench with anticipation.
âThese shorts have been teasing me since you walked in,â he murmured with the same steady tone he used in the pitt, but now turned intimate and commanding. Robby hooked his fingers into the waistband and slowly peeled them down your legs, taking his time as he revealed more of you. âLift your hips for me, sweetheart. Good girl.â
You obeyed instantly, lifting your hips so he could slide the fabric off completely, leaving you in just your thin panties and the tank top. Robby smoothed his hands up your thighs, spreading them wider with gentle but firm pressure. âKeep your legs open like that,â he instructed you. âNice and wide for me. Donât close them unless I tell you to.â
You were already moaning softly, and he wasnât even touching your core yet. Robby dropped his eyes to the damp spot on your panties, making the fabric cling to your pussy lips, and he let out a groan of desire and hunger. He cupped you over the fabric with one hand, pressing his palm firmly against your heated pussy while his thumb found your clit through the material and began rubbing slow circles.
âOh god,â you moaned, twitching up your hips into his touch, seeking more of the contact. The friction was simply perfect, it was teasing, and it kept building higher and higher. Robbyâs callused thumb was applying just the right pressure on your swollen nub.Â
He watched your face intently through his hooded and lustful eyes as he worked you higher. âFeel good?â he asked, trying to keep his voice steady even as his own breathing grew heavier. âYouâre so wet already. Soaking through these panties for me. Thatâs it⊠rock against my hand, sweetheart. Show me how much you need this.â
Your moans only grew louder and more unrestrained, as he kept rubbing your clit with precision. The fabric added a delicious layer of friction, and every circle sent sparks shooting up your body. He got you gripping the sheets, your thighs already trembling as you fought the urge to close them around his hand.
Robby leaned down to kiss the inside of one thigh, scratching your skin deliciously. âYou want my mouth? Want me to taste this pretty pussy? You gonna wrap these gorgeous legs around my neck while I do it?â
âYes,â you gasped, nodding frantically. âPlease, Robby. I need it.â
He hooked his fingers into your panties and tugged them down slowly, revealing your glistening, bare pussy to his hungry gaze. âFuck⊠look at you. So wet and perfect.â He kissed along your inner thighs, taking his time, brushing his lips and beard against the sensitive skin as he worked his way closer. âWrap them around me, sweetheart. Lock your ankles behind my head if you need to. I want to feel you holding me right where I belong.â
You did exactly as he said, wrapping your legs around his broad shoulders and pressing your heels into his upper back. The position left you completely open to him, vulnerable and exposed. Robby groaned, the sound vibrating against your core as he finally leaned in.
The first lick of his tongue was broad and slow, dragging from your entrance up to your puffy clit. The sensation was overwhelming, and it made you cry out loudly, threading your fingers into his greying hair as he began to devour you with the same intensity he brought to every procedure at work. He licked and sucked with precision, alternating between long and flat strokes to tight and quick circles around your clit.Â
His beard was scratching your inner thighs and outer lips in the most delicious way, adding a kind of texture that made your toes curl. âRobby⊠Oh fuck, that feels so good,â you moaned, rolling your hips against his mouth.Â
He hummed in response, pulling back with his lips glistening with your arousal just so he could speak to you. âTell me how it feels, sweetheart. I want to hear it.â
âSo good⊠your tongueâoh god, your mouth, Robby. Itâs driving me crazy. Donât stop, please.â
âYouâre being so good for me,â he praised, diving back in to suck your clit into his mouth, flicking it rapidly while applying suction with his lips.Â
Before you could register it, he teased your entrance with two thick fingers, slowly sliding them inside you, letting your own greedy hole swallow them. Once he curled them upward to find that perfect spot, the sensation had you moaning loudly and arching off the bed.Â
Robby pumped his fingers steadily, matching the rhythm of his tongue with his digits. A few moments later, he stopped again briefly, looking up at you with lust-filled eyes and shiny lips. âYouâre so fucking beautiful like this. Spread open for me, taking my fingers so well. This pussy is perfect, made for me. Keep moaning for me. Let me hear how much you love my mouth on you.â
You obeyed, your moans spilling freely as he returned to his task with renewed hunger. The pleasure built fast and faster, making your thighs tremble around his head and your feet dig into his back as you held him exactly where you needed him. Robby gripped your hip with his free hand, holding you steadily while he worked you closer and closer to the edge with expert skill. Every command, every praise, every flick of his tongue pushed you higher.Â
Robby didnât relent, he kept his mouth latched onto your clit, sucking with rhythmic pressure, devouring you like a man starved. âRobbyâoh fuck, yes!â The pleasure was overwhelming, every single nerve ending in your body was alight as he worked you higher.Â
âKeep those legs open for me, sweetheart,â he growled against your clit. âDonât you dare close them. I want to feel you squeezing around my fingers while I eat this pretty pussy.â He added a third finger slowly, stretching you wider, the burn blending perfectly with the pleasure. âThatâs it⊠take three for me. Feel how full you are? Youâre doing so well. Such a good girl taking everything I give you.â
The wet sounds of his fingers plunging into your dripping pussy and his mouth sucking hungrily on your clit filled the air. You were soaking his beard, his chin, his wrist, but he didnât care. Robby slid a hand under you, grabbing a firm handful of your ass and lifting your hips slightly off the bed. The new angle let him bury his face even deeper, working your clit with more precision while he fingerfucked you harder. âJust like that,â he praised you between licks. âGrind on my tongue, baby. Use my mouth. Show me how bad you need to come.â
You obeyed helplessly once again, rolling your hips and bucking them against him as the coil in your belly tightened unbearably. The pleasure built in powerful waves until your thighs started to shake violently around his head. Robby kept talking you through it, pushing you closer to the edge.
âYouâre getting so close, arenât you? I can feel this tight pussy clenching around my fingers. Come on, let go. Cum all over my tongue. I want to taste it. I want to feel you fall apart for me.â
The orgasm crashed over you with blinding intensity, making your back bow off the bed, a loud and broken cry tearing from your throat as your pussy spasmed hard around his digits. Your thighs were squeezing his head tightly, your heels digging into his back as wave after wave of pleasure ripped through you. Robby didnât stop though, he kept sucking your clit through the peak, curling and thrusting his fingers to draw out every last shudder.
You came harder than you ever had. So hard that your vision went white for a moment as the pleasure bordered on overwhelming. Your moans turned into whimpers as the orgasm slowly ebbed, leaving you limp and gasping on the bed.
Robby finally eased back, gently lowering your hips and kissing softly along your inner thighs. He looked up at you with dark and satisfied eyes. âThatâs my girl,â he murmured. âSo beautiful when you cum for me.â
You lay there panting, your thighs were still twitching, completely wrecked and already aching for more of him. Robby climbed back up your body, kissing you deeply so you could taste yourself on his tongue. He was so close that his hard cock was pressing insistently against your thigh through his pants.Â
âThat was⊠amazing,â you whisper with your voice hoarse from moaning. âSo much better than I ever imagined.â
Robby chuckled softly, the sound warm and genuine against your neck as he pressed a kiss there. âYeah? Better than your hand?â His eyes were sparkling with lust.Â
You laughed breathlessly, nodding. âSo much better. Your mouth⊠God, Robby. Iâve never felt anything like that.â
He hummed in satisfaction, grinding his still-clothed erection slowly against your bare, sensitive pussy. The thick ridge of his cock was being pressed perfectly against your clit, giving him some much needed relief while teasing you both. âI loved doing that for you,â he murmured. âYou were so good for me, sweetheart. So responsive, so wet. The way you moaned my name and squeezed my head with those pretty thighs⊠fuck, you have no idea what you do to me.â
Robby rolled his hips deliberately, the friction making you whimper and arch up into him. You could feel how achingly hard he was and how much heâd been holding back. You slid up your hands down his chest, feeling the soft flesh beneath his shirt.
âI want you,â you breathed, looking up at him with need. âPlease, Robby.â
He stilled for a moment, as if to pulling himself together. âTell me what you want. Be specific.â
You bit your lip, feeling the warmth invade your cheeks. âYour cock. I want you to fuck me. I need you inside me.â
Robby let out a groan, sitting back on his knees between your spread thighs. He reached for the waistband of his sweatpants, drawing out the anticipation. You sit up slightly, eager to help, moving your fingers to tug his pants down along with his underwear.
âIâve been dying to see you,â you confessed as you pulled his pants down his hips. He caught your wrists before you could push his boxers down.
Robby looked almost nervous, a faint flush creeping up his neck. âWait⊠I, uhââ He cleared his throat, flicking his eyes away for a second. âI havenât trimmed down there in a while. This whole night was⊠unexpected. I wouldâve cleaned up if Iâd known we were gonna end up here.â
He said it like it was something to be embarrassed about. Like it might actually make you want him less. It made you soft, you cupped his jaw, turning his face back to yours.
âRobby. Do you honestly think I give a damn about that? Itâs just hair.â
He let out a self-conscious breath, still looking a little defensive. âI know. I know itâs just hair. Itâs just⊠itâs probably a fucking jungle down there right now. You donât have toâ I mean, you donât have to do anything if itâs too much.â
The way he was trying to give you an out was almost painfully endearing. You shook your head. âJust let me see you,â you whispered.
You slid his boxers down his thighs and freed his cock, it sprang out, thick and hard, the head flushed in a dark red with arousal. It was beautiful, so long, girthy, with a slight upward curve, prominent veins running along the shaft. Exactly like heâd warned, there was a thick, dark mat of coarse hair at the base, dense and untrimmed. He looked completely natural, it was so him, deeply masculine and unpolished.
A fresh rush of wetness slipped down your inner thighs. Your fingers twitched with the need to touch him there.
You looked up at him through your lashes âI love it,â you slowly carded your fingers through the thick hair at the base of his member. âYou look so fucking hot like this. I like every single inch of you.â
Robbyâs whole body shivered under your touch. âGodâŠâ he rasped as he stared down at you. âYouâre gonna kill me tonight.â
Almost with instinct, you wrapped your hand around it, stroking the shaft slowly from base to tip, feeling the heat and weight of his member.
Robby hissed in pleasure, twitching his hips forward into your grip as he watched your hand move up and down his cock. âFuck, your hand feels good,â he groaned, letting you stroke him for a while, savoring the sight of your smaller hand working his thick length, making a bead of precum leak from the tip.
After a few moments, he gently stopped you, wrapping his fingers around your wrist. âLay back down for me, sweetheart. Keep those legs open nice and wide. Just like before.â
You obeyed, lying back against the pillows and spreading your thighs for him. Robby reached over toward the nightstand, stretching one arm past you as he pulled open the top drawer. He rummaged through it for a few seconds, before his hand closed around what he was looking for.
A moment later he sat back, a condom held between his fingers. He held it up, searching for your eyes with his. âIâve got this if you want me to wear it.â
You shook your head, reaching up to touch his arm. âNo. I want you bare. Iâm on the pill.â
You both knew it might not have been the smartest option, doing it raw, with nothing between you. But there was a deep, unspoken trust between the two of you, forged through long shifts, that made you feel safe. And in that moment, that trust felt solid enough to lean on.
The hunger that had taken over both of you made anything else almost unbearable. The need to feel each other completely bare, skin on skin, heat on heat, with nothing separating you, was overwhelming.
âFuck, youâre gonna kill me.â He tossed the condom aside, leaning down to kiss you deeply again. âYouâre sure?â
âIâm sure,â you whispered against his lips. âI want to feel all of you.â
He groaned, positioning himself between your legs and nudging the thick head of his cock against your slick entrance. The anticipation felt electric, this was the culmination of over a year of longing, of hours of texts, and now all that was left was this desperate connection. Robby gripped your thighs, spreading you wider as he looked down at you with hunger.
The night is only beginning, and the way heâs looking at you promises heâs going to take his time ruining you in the best possible way.
As his cockhead was being rubbed up and down your folds, teasing your clit with every pass, coating itself with your juices, the sensation felt maddening, promising everything youâd fantasized about for so long. You whimpered, twitching your hips up instinctively to chase more contact.
âEyes on me, sweetheart,â Robby commanded you softly, the same authoritative tone that had guided you through countless procedures was now guiding you through this. He cupped your chin gently, tilting your face so your gazes locked. âKeep looking at me the whole time. I want to see you while I fuck you.â
You nodded shakily, unable to look away even if you wanted to. Robby continued rubbing the head of his cock against your entrance, coating himself in your wetness, drawing out the anticipation until you were squirming beneath him.
âThatâs it,â he whispered against your mouth. âSo wet for me already. This pussy is going to take me so well. Breathe for me, relax and let me in.â He pressed forward slowly, breaching your entrance with only the tip. The stretch was immediate and intense, opening you up inch by inch as he sank deeper. Your mouth fell open in a silent moan, but you forced your eyes open, locking them on his as he watched every flicker of pleasure cross your face.
âEasy, baby,â he cooed, stroking your thigh soothingly while the other braced beside your head. âYouâre doing so good. Feel how youâre stretching around me? So tight and warm⊠fuck, you feel incredible.â
You moaned loudly as he continued sliding in, the deliberate thrust filling you completely until he was buried to the hilt, until his hips were flushed against yours. The fullness was overwhelming, his thick cock stretching your walls like nobody had stretched you before, pressing against every sensitive spot inside you.
Robby stayed still for a moment buried deep, resting his forehead against yours as he looked straight into your eyes. âThere you go. All the way in. You took every inch.â He started to thrust with deep rolls of his hips that drag his cock along your walls with exquisite friction. âWrap your legs around me. Hold me close while I fuck you.â
You did as he said, locking your legs around his waist and digging your heels into his lower back. The new angle let him sink even deeper, and you cried out in pleasure, digging your nails into his shoulders. Robby kept talking you through it, just like he knew you liked.
âThatâs my girl. Feel that? Iâm hitting that spot inside you, huh?â He angled his hips slightly, grinding deep on every stroke. Robby slid one hand up to cup and squeeze your breast, rolling your nipple as he thrusted harder.
Robby moved his hand from your breast to cup your chin. His grip was gentle enough not to hurt, yet firm enough that you felt every one of his fingers pressing against the bones of your jaw. âLook at me. Donât look away. I want to see how good my cock feels inside this tight pussy.â He tilted your face up and held it there, leaving you no choice but to meet his eyes.
And God⊠what a glorious sight he was. This handsome man, with his face flushed, his brow glistening with sweat, devouring you with his gaze as he kept driving his cock into you.
His face was only inches from yours, and he kept fucking you in long strokes while he held your chin like that, as if he were starving for every single expression that crossed your face. He loved watching the way pleasure wrecked you. The way your lips parted around helpless moans, the way you bit down on your lower lip only for it to slip free again with a broken sound. The way your eyes went glassy and pleading, silently begging him for more even as your body trembled around his cock. He drank it all in like a man who had been thirsty for years.
With his free hand, he gripped your waist, holding you in place so he could drive into you with more power. Every slide of his cock stretched you perfectly, dragging the fat tip along your g-spot like that was what it was made for.
âRobbyâoh god, yes!â You moaned loudly, raising your hips to meet his thrust and tightening your legs around him. Your tits were bouncing with every powerful stroke, and he leaned down to suck one nipple into his mouth again, flicking his tongue as he continued fucking you.
âYou feel so good,â he groaned against your skin, switching to the other breast. âSo tight and wet around me. This pussy was made for my cock, wasnât it? Taking me so deep.â His hand on your waist slid down to grip your ass, lifting your hips slightly to change the angle as he thrusted harder. âLift your legs higher for me, sweetheart,â he said against your neck,kissing and nipping the sensitive skin there. Ronny held the back of your thigh, helping guide your leg up. âThatâs it⊠over my shoulder. Let me get deeper.â
You whimpered as he assisted you, hooking your leg over his shoulder. He did the same with the other, folding you nearly in half beneath him. The new angle allowed him to sink impossibly deeper, until he was pressing the head firmly against that perfect spot inside you with every thrust, grinding against your g-spot relentlessly.
âFuckâRobby, itâs so deep like this,â you moaned, fluttering your eyes shut for just a moment as the intense sensation washed over you.
âAh-ah-ah,â he chided gently but firmly, cupping your jaw with his hand to tilt your face back to his. âEyes on me, sweetheart. Keep them open. I want to watch you while I fuck you like this. Donât look away.â
You forced your eyes open, locking onto his hungry gaze as he continued hammering into you. The eye contact made everything more intimate and overwhelming. The feeling of his hand leavinf your jaw and sliding down between your bodies made you shiver. Robby found your swollen clit and began rubbing tight circles in time with his thrusts.
The combined stimulation was devastating. The pleasure was burning higher in your core, so close to finally exploding. Your body was arching and squirming beneath his frame as you scratched down his back and trembled over his shoulders. Every thrust, every rub of his fingers on your clit, every moan and grunt that escaped his mouth pushed you closer to the edge.
âThatâs it,â Robby groaned, never removing his sight from yours. âLook at you taking my cock so deep. Youâre getting close again, arenât you? I can feel it. Cum for me, baby. Let me feel you cum all over my cock. Keep your eyes on me when you do.â
You bowed your back off the bed as your climax took over your body. A loud cry tore from your throat as your pussy clenched rhythmically around his length. Your thighs shook violently over his shoulders and you dug your nails harder into his back when the waves of pleasure crashed through you. Robby sekpt thrusting through it, drawing out your orgasm with deep strokes and continued pressure on your clit.
âYou look so beautiful when you cum for me⊠thatâs it, sweetheart. Give it all to me. Youâre being so good.â
By the time he finally slowed and gently pulled out of you, you were still trembling and gasping. Robby layed back on the bed beside you, with his cock hard and glistening with your release. âCome here, baby,â he said. âGet on top. I want to watch you ride me.â
He helped you shift positions, gripping your hips firmly to guide you as you straddled him. âEasy, sweetheart. Take your time⊠thatâs it. Feel me right there? Let me watch you take every inch.â
You positioned the head at your slick entrance and began to sink down, inch by inch. The stretch was intense all over again, his girth opening you up as you lowered yourself onto him. Robby kept his hands still on your hips to steady you, stroking your skin soothingly while watching every expression on your face.
âFuck, look at that,â he groaned. âYouâre doing so well. Keep going⊠take a little more. Feel how full you are?â
Louder moans left your mouth as you sank lower, the fullness was overwhelming in the best way. Bracing your hands on his broad chest for balance, you finally took him to the hilt, resting your ass against his thighs. Robby squeezed your hips encouragingly. âRide me. Roll your hips like that⊠yes, just like that.â
Whn you started moving, rolling, and grinding your hips in a steady rhythm, the pleasure built quickly. His cock was dragging along your walls as you found a rhythm that made your tits bounce and your clit grind against his pelvis.
Robby kept moving his eyes are everywhere, watching where your pussy stretched around his shaft, sliding up to your bouncing breasts, then locking onto your face. He reaches up with both hands, cupping your tits and rolling your nipples as you ride him.
âYouâre so fucking beautiful. Youâre doing so well, sweetheart. Keep going⊠faster if you want. Take what you need from me.â
Without a word, you grabbed the hem of his shirt and tugged it upward. He sat up just enough to help you pull it off, and the second the fabric cleared his head, your hands were on him.
God, you loved his body. Your moved your palm slowly over his chest, feeling the coarse hair and the thud of his heart beneath your fingertips. You dragged your hands lower, mapping the soft, rounded curve of his belly with desire. It turned you on more than any gym-honed torso ever could. As you pressed your palms into the softness, your fingers dag in gently. Then you smoothed your hands over it again and again, savoring the way it yielded under your touch.
You were mumbling praises and moans between gasps, completely lost in the sensation. âRobby⊠you feel so good⊠so deep⊠fuck, I love your cock inside meâŠâ
At one point, Robby planted his feet firmly on the bed, bent his knees, and started thrusting up to meet you. The change felt devastating, he was now fucking you from below with powerful strokes that made you cry out loudly as he droveinto you.Â
The slap of skin on skin grew louder when the slamming into you intensified. âFuckâRobby!â you moaned, letting your head fall back as the pleasure overwhelmed you.
âEyes on me if you can, sweetheart,â he growled, moving his fingers down to rub your clit again. âIâm getting close. You feel too good. Youâre gonna make me cum.â
You were a moaning and squirming mess on top of him, riding and grinding as he thrusted up harder. His fingers on your clit and his cock hitting deep pushed you toward another peak, but it was his impending orgasm that had you focused on him.
âIâm gonna cum,â he groaned, snapping his hips up faster. âFuckâcan I cum inside you? Please, I want to fill you up.â
âYes,â you gasped, riding him desperately. âCum inside me, Robby. I want it. Fill me up. Pleaseââ
With a deep groan, Robby thrusted up hard one last time and came, pulsing nside you, flooding your pussy with thick and warm ropes of cum. He held you down on him, gripping your hips tightly as he emptied himself completely. The feeling of him cumming inside you, fully claiming you, triggered your own smaller orgasm, making your walls clench rhythmically around his pulsing cock.
You both stayed locked together, panting. Robby stroked your back and thighs as you came down from the high befor pulling you down against his chest, kissing your forehead, keeping his cock still buried deep inside you as his release slowly leaked out around him, so much that you could feel the hot nd sticky evidence of his climax.
There were no more walls, just the two of you, finally giving in to everything youâve both wanted and repressed for so long. You stayed draped on top of Robby for a long stretch of time, both of you catching your breath as the intensity slowly ebbed. Eventually, you lifted your head and looked at him. âThat was⊠amazing. I wouldnât even have dreamed that itâd be that good.â
He hummed in agreement, continuing his soothing path along your back. âIt was. Better than I let myself imagine. You felt perfect.â
The praise made a warm feeling bloom in your chest. After a few more quiet moments, Robby gently helped you sit up, easing you off his cock with a shared sigh. You both winced slightly at the loss of connection and the feeling of emptiness, but he pulled you down beside him on the bed, wrapping his arms around you again as you cuddled into his side.
âSo⊠you donât regret it, do you?â
He met your eyes as a small smile began tugging at his lips beneath the beard. âRight now? I canât regret having amazing sex with you. My mind is still somewhere up in the clouds.â He pressed a soft kiss to your forehead. âI donât know what will happen tomorrow when reality hits, but tonight⊠no regrets.â
You nestled closer, throwing one leg over his. The cuddling felt easy, natural, like youâd been doing this for years. For tonight, the outside world, the hospital, the guilt, the what ifs didnât exist. There was only the two of you, and Robby might be right about reality hitting tomorrow, but right now, in the darkness of his room, everything felt right.
A/N: Two attempts at posting this fic, and two times Tumblrâs stupid AI mistakenly flagged itđ Iâve spent days trying to figure out what was causing the problem and doing everything I could to finally get this fic posted for all of you. So if youâre reading this, it means it worked. Hopefully.
If you end up enjoying the fic, Iâd really appreciate it if you could help me share it with a reblog (only if you enjoyed the fic) cause Iâve put a lot of work on it
Well, I hope you enjoyed this little something I worked on when inspiration finally struck me. I donât know if I read it somewhere or if we all collectively decided it, but Robby absolutely feels like the type of guy who talks you through it. Youâre telling me the man who spends all day teaching med students and residents how to do procedures wouldnât also be guiding his girl in bed? Itâs literally in his nature!!! This TikTok also got me inspired because, yes, he absolutely looks at you through it too.
I also think Robbyâs canon texting style is weirdly inconsistent. In that scene in season one where heâs texting Jake, sometimes he starts messages with capital letters and sometimes he doesnât. Sometimes he ends sentences with a period, sometimes he doesnât. In my head, he has perfect grammar but deliberately tries to sound Gen Z and chill when heâs texting someone younger than him lol. Anyway, I tried to replicate that here too.
Toriâs complicated situationship with Dr. Jack Abbot is shattered when a wounded stranger collapses at her doorâa stranger who looks exactly like Jack.
âââââââââââââ
Warnings:
18+ | Violence | Gunshot Injury | Blood | Medical Procedures | Language | Slow Burn | Smut | Angst | Romance | Family Trauma
Working title for part 3 (because yes Iâm not leaving it ambiguous anymore) of my stepdad! Jack Abbot fic: bad decisions, semi inspired by the Bad Omens song of the same name.
Celebrating the 4th not in an âI love Americaâ way, but a Lana del Rey Ethel Cain coded way, imagining those hot fictional old men being my dbf đđ€â€ïž
fucking you deep on your back, one hand holding your head in his chest while his other fists the thrown covers. whispering sweet in your ear while you hold onto his strong back, dropping fat, long strokes into you that feel deeper and deeper each go around. heâs kinda glad the musics so loud, because your moans and whines are getting louder by the second.
âAndy oh-my-god,,â you moan in tune with his heavy thrusts, shuddering into him as you hold him closer. âso deep, gonna cum..feels so good..â youâre absolutely soaking him, he feels like he could slip out any second. âyou can cum sweetie, youâre ok, youâre ok..donât think about anything else just go ahead n let go..been so good.â
he could get walked in on right now and heâd keep going if it meant getting to hear you like this, all sweet and docile in his arms, scratching at his back as you cum around him, smushing your lips in little kisses to his chest. couldnât believe Craig pulled someone so sweet.
Description: You come home for summer break from college to be greeted with a new stepdad, whom you quickly develop an unhealthy obsession with. Inspired by the movie "The Crush".
Tags: Cursing, flirting, stepcest, groping, Jack's guilt is slowly going away but he's still a perv, talks of drinking heavily so intox?, a case of mistaken identity ;), heavy petting, fingering, reader is progressively more unhinged, cheating mentioned, cheating (reader and Jack), daddy kink, Langdon cameo mention but not in a nice way, mention of becoming and being pregnant, mention of being a virgin/loss of virginity, mom shaming (sorry mom), grinding over fabric, scent kink? (idk Jack is a guilty, dirty old man and I love him.)
A/N: Part 2 is here! As always, let me know what you think by commenting, reblogging and liking, and thank you everyone for your support on the first part. A special thank you to @j4ckr4bbits for letting me yap about my Jack Abbot fantasies, and @luvrspitt for helping me come up with the case of mistaken identity. Love you all!
He wakes to the sound of loud laughing and the overwhelming smell of chlorine and suntan lotion.
Your mother had gotten called into work again, so there he was, alone, in their bed for the second day in a row. The constant workaholic behavior was beginning to gnaw at him. He rarely got to see his wife for more than a few minutes. He didnât remember her being like this, but then again they had moved pretty fast.
Heâd pretty much stayed holed up in his bedroom after your little tease you gave to him a few days ago by the pool. God, he felt fucking guilty for even entertaining it.
But Jack couldnât lie that it felt nice for someone to pay more than 3 seconds attention to him. That feeling of wrongness was slowly dissipating with every day you stayed here, despite him knowing, morally and probably legally, it was wrong.
After putting on his prosthesis and his clothes for the day, he made his way downstairs to discover, 1st, that the door to the lanai was left wide open, causing the house to heat up slightly and the chemicals from the pool started to permeate the air.
âHey! If youâre done with the pool, you gotta close the door!â Jack called out to wherever you were, stalking over to close it shut, maybe a little harder than necessary.
Very quickly upon turning around with intention to go to the kitchen to make coffee, Jack noticed the 2nd, being you, bright eyed as usual when you looked at him, as well as who he can only assume is one of your friends, sat next to you at the breakfast nook, both of you with slightly damp hair and bodies clad in bikinis. Not only was Jack not expecting there to be another person in his house, but he noticed that she was looking at him the same way you do.
For a grown man whoâd been through as much as he had, and hadnât really seen the woman he was supposed to be married to consistently since, he couldnât lie it was a bit of an ego trip for him to have not one, but now two younger women looking at him like he was a prize to be had.
Little did he know, your friend had just made a very big mistake.
âOh, hi Mr. Abbot.â She said, sickeningly sweet with a wide smile plastered on her face. âI didnât realize you were home. Sorry about the door.â
And he thought you laid it on thick. Your friend is much more obvious.
âOh, itâs fine. Things happen.â He replies calmly, smiling kindly back at her.
You were studying them without either one of them recognizing it. Your friend, Sarah, with her fake smile, practically pushing up her tits at him. Jack smiling back at her. He definitely glanced down at them, you were sure of it. Does he like her?
You spoke quickly, not wanting this interaction to go on any longer. âSo, Jack, what are your plans for the day? Anything exciting?â You ask, sweetly but genuinely curious.
He smiled back at you, thank god, almost relieved looking. âYeah, actually. Iâm glad youâre here because I wanted to talk to you about that.â He pauses, glancing at your friend for a moment, then back to you. âCould we actually talk in the hallway?â
You smile and nod, thankful for the moment alone, and to be away from other prying eyes, stepping out into the hallway with him, closing the door until itâs just slightly cracked.
âYes?â You turn to face him, lowering his gaze so he could look at you straight forward. You realize then just how close you are to him, his scent lingering, manly and woodsy. Like an aphrodisiac to you.
âIâm going to be heading out in a few, Iâve got some errands to run and then Iâm going to play some golf with a few of my buddies from work. Thereâs also a good chance weâll go out for drinks after, so I wonât be home for awhile.â He started, watching your face as you took in every syllable. âAre you going to be ok here alone for that long? I donât know when your motherâs going to be off work.â He follows, slightly annoyed that he canât even guarantee when someone will be home.
But you donât seem deterred by his comment. âOh yeah, Iâll be fine.â You tell him with a giggle. âIâve been home alone before. Besides, Iâve got a friend here to help with the boredom.â
He notices you put a slight strain on the word âfriendâ, but he doesnât comment.
Satisfied with your answer, he nods. âAlright, well if you need me, you can always call. Your mom gave you my number, right?â
You nod, keeping that innocent look on your face, though he knows youâre far from it.
His mind is so trained on trying to make sure youâll be ok by yourself until god knows when that he doesnât even think before he says âWell then, you wouldnât mind being a good girl and keeping the house clean, right?â
Sparks shoot behind your eyes, pupils dilating as the words reach your ears. You take a step forward, clearly emboldened, your bodies almost touching as you slip your hand to the front of his pants, palming him through them. âIâll always be a good girl for you, daddy.â You tell him in a low, sultry voice.
Frightened by your sudden movement and boldness, he backs away, gripping your wrist to pull you off of him. âWh-what the hell is the matter with you?â He whisper-shouts through gritted teeth, his brows furrowed as he looks at you, but you couldnât be bothered, those same fuck me eyes you always gave him on display.
âIâŠI canât deal with this right now. I have to go.â He tells you, sternly, but still trying to be quiet so as not to alert your friend in the other room, backing up and away towards the front door to leave, just wanting to start his day and get this out of his mind, trying to ignore the growing bulge in his pants from the unexpected stimulation.
He grabs his keys and wallet off the tray by the door, quickly opening it, but not without hearing your saccharine voice call out to you âHave fun!â
Once you returned to sit next to your friend, she turns to you coyly, and nervously laughing, tells you âOh my gosh, donât think Iâm weird, ok? But your stepdad is, like, super hot.â
Jack may or may not have heard that as well.
It was about 1 am by the time Jack returned home, eyes tired and walking a bit off center due to the alcohol heâd consumed throughout the day at golf and at the bar having metabolized and starting to wear off. Heâd had an Uber bring him home, and would have to go collect his car in the morning.
He made his way to the kitchen to grab a glass of water and ibuprofen before heading up the stairs to go to his room. He knew a hangover was unavoidable, but he could do the best he could to make it not as bad.
The house was relatively quiet, and cleaned up, he noticed. At least you had listened to that part. He wondered if your friend had gone home, so he quietly opened the door to the guest room on his way, peeking in to see if the bed was occupied, but thankfully he didnât see anyone.
He didnât care if anyone stayed over, but after the little stunt youâd pulled earlier, he really wasnât feeling it. He just wanted to go to bed, try and get some sleep to forget about what had happened, but more so how he reacted to it.
He opened the door to the bedroom, the little bit of moonlight from the window filtering in through the curtains, as he walked in, pausing as he saw the bed inhabited, the blankets pulled up and over a figure on their side.
âStrange,â he thought âyour moms car wasnât in the drive.â
But then again, it wasnât unheard of for her to catch a ride with a coworker after a particularly long shift. Maybe thatâs what she did and just forgot to tell him. It doesnât matter, he was just happy to have his wife in the bed for a night. He should savor it while it lasts.
He quickly removed his clothes, stripping everything off a layer at a time. Heâd worry about a shower in the morning.
Sitting down on the edge of the bed, he removed his prosthesis, massaging out the sore parts of his leg from having it on all day, before climbing under the covers, moving up against the body in the bed, pressing himself up against and wrapping his arm around the waist.
The feeling of being pressed against his wifeâs warm body after being away from her for so long started to rouse him. He was a man after all, and having gone weeks without any intimacy was taking a toll on him.
He felt her shift as she woke up slightly, still groggy, shushing her as his hand roamed up and down her side.
âShh, shh, shh, darling, itâs just me.â He tells her in a hushed voice, his lips moving down to the nape of her neck, kissing it lightly as his hand continues to wander to her front, hearing her let out little sighs of pleasure. âIs this ok?â He asks, desperately wanting to move his hand downwards, needing to feel her, hear her moans and wanting words.
She just responds with a nod, her hand reaching up to grab his and pulling it down between her legs, under her shorts, clearly just as willing as he is, judging by the growing bulge pressing into her back.
âYouâre softer than I remember, honey.â He remarks at the feel of her hand on his, as well as the feeling of her soft curls of her pussy under his fingertips. âBeen too long.â He tells her, continuing his kissing from her neck to her cheek, his middle and ring finger sliding gently up and down her folds, collecting the wetness there.
âChrist, youâre wet.â He says, which elicits a higher moan from her as his fingers begin to circle her clit, her hand still on his.
Itâs then that he feels an emptiness on her ring finger, the usual cold metal not registering to him at the moment, making him stop his motions.
âDid you take your ring off?â He asks curiously, lifting his head up to try and make out her face in the dark of the room. Her hand immediately comes off his, reaching over to the bedside table, onto the ring tray, holding it up so Jack can see the slight going of the diamonds in the moonlight, and slips it onto her ring finger.
He finds that a bit odd as well. She doesnât usually make such a show of it if she took it off at night.
But whatever, doesnât matter. His boner isnât going away any time soon and from what he can tell by the grabbing of his hand and shoving it back down to continue his motions, she isnât turned off by the pause in the slightest.
He continues working his fingers on her clit, listening to her higher than usual moans heâs pulling from her, before slowly slipping one, then two in, all the way, filling her, causing another moan, more like a whine this time as he moves slowly, dragging his fingers in and out, curving them slightly the way he knows she likes.
âFuck, thatâs how I know itâs been too long, honey.â His voice getting rougher as he speaks. âYou have to adjust to feeling even just my fingers in you.â He teases with a chuckle.
âGod, I missed you.â He admits, placing another kiss on her cheek as he continues his ministrations.
A chill runs through her body at the kiss, another high whine, and then he hears it: âI missed you too, daddy.â
His blood runs cold. The words, the tone, the reason for the softness that isnât usually there. The reason the ring wasnât on. The excessive wetness, being tighter than usual. It all comes together in that moment.
It was you. He had touched, kissed you.
He had his fingers inside you.
His stepdaughter.
As soon as he realized it, he quickly pulled his fingers out, shooting up in bed, moving away from you, turning on the bedside lamp. He couldnât control his tone now.
âWhatâŠwhat the fuck are you doing in my bed?â His voice shocked and confused.
But you, oh you, rolled over casually, sitting up straight, and itâs then that he can really see you. Your hair was down and slightly messy from lying down and you had to have had on the sluttiest pair of pajamas you owned. A black lacey tank top hugged your breasts and clung to your skin while a matching material pair of shorts rode up so high on your legs and ass they could practically pass for panties.
Youâd planned this, judging from what you had on and the smug smile you donned. It had to have been after he left earlier.
âOh, donât act like you didnât like it.â You say dismissively as your left hand reaches forward, grabbing at the obvious tent he has under the covers.
He quickly grips your wrist, pulling it away. âGet the fuck off me!â He tells you harshly, nervously. But he doesnât let go of your wrist, instead reaching for the ring you had on, pulling it off your finger.
He holds it in front of you. âThisâŠwhere did you get this?â He questions you.
You shrug and tell him, as if itâs no big deal, âMom always takes her wedding ring off when she works a double with Frank.â
Your words donât process to him at first. âFrank? Who the fuck is Frank?â He asks, confused and flustered.
And you just giggle in response. âLangdon? You should know him, too. He works day shift?â You tell him, trying to get him to remember.
âWhen did this start?â He questions you, his face set with an angry look.
You scoff. âI donât know. And besides, itâs not my job to tell you what my mom does in her free time, itâs herâs. Iâm not your wife.â
You know you were harsh with him, but it had to be done. He was going to find out sooner or later that something was going on. You had seen her get dropped off one night from Langdon, and their âfriendly hugâ lasted a little too long for your taste, his hands resting a little too low, so you put two and two together pretty quickly after that.
You did feel bad for Jack, though. You didnât want to hurt his feelings, and you could see the look on his face. You snatch the ring from his hand, sliding it on your ring finger once again, before saying quietly âBut I could be.â
Jacksâ head snaps to you so fast you think it might fall off.
âWhat?â Is all he could say, quietly through confusion.
"I mean, just look how nice the ring looks on me." You hold up your hand to show it off, fitting you not perfectly, but slightly loose, the center diamond glittering between the two smaller ones. "You really have good taste, daddy." you tell him, admiring the ring.
Jack would tell you to stop calling him that.
He would if he didn't like it so much.
"Just imagine it." You start, moving to climb onto his lap while all he can do is watch in a flurry of waring emotions. Guilt, hurt...
Lust.
"I could stay here all day, take care of the house while you're gone. I did a good job of it today, didn't I?" you ask, but don't wait for his answer as you lay your hands on both his shoulders to keep yourself steady. "You haven't seen me cook yet, but trust me, I'm very good. I can bake, too. I'm very independent-"
You try to continue, but he cuts you off. "Woah, woah, woah. Do you hear yourself?" He asks, dumbfounded. "Do you not understand what our relationship is here?"
You continue, slightly annoyed now. "I do, actually." You move to sit yourself right over his still hard crotch, grinding back and forth over his length that you can feel through the covers. "I throw myself at you, and you pretend you don't get hard just looking at me."
He groans at the words, the quiet part now being said out loud.
"No, that's not-" he tries to say, moving his hands to your hips to cease your movements, but you don't relent.
"But it is." You tell him, only moving faster on top of him, feeling him grow harder still, your slick seeping through your tiny excuse for shorts, making a wet patch over his crotch, just a couple inches of fabric separating the two of you from crossing that forbidden line. "I see how you look at me. It's how every boy in school used to look at me. Fucking useless things." You grumble, continuing your movements.
His grip starts to loosen on your hips as you continue, your grinding keeping those nerves alight, shooting pleasure through him.
Fuck, this is so wrong, so fucked up.
But he couldn't bring himself to care at the moment. He would tell himself later that it was just the shock of finding out about his wife's infidelity. This was a natural response, really. To seek comfort in another after such information.
"But maybe you don't want me as your wife, daddy." You say in a sigh of disappointment, or so he thought, before countering: "Maybe you just want me to stay your little girl?"
He lets out another groan, this one of disgust in himself from how his dick twitches at hearing your filthy words. "You don't know what you're talking about."
"I think we both know that's a lie." You say smugly, knowing you're getting to him, and knowing soon he won't be able to control what comes next.
"You need to get off me, right now." He tells you through gritted teeth, his eyes wrenching shut, his hands not matching his words though as they stay rested on your hips. "This is- fuck- this is completely inappropriate." he tries to stifle his moan while he talks. "I'm your-"
"Stepdad? I know." You tell him with a sweet smile. "It just makes me want you more, and I think it's what's keeping you so hard right now." You tell him cheekily, with a roll of your hips.
And then you start talking more, all the while grinding yourself on him, seemingly caring less about your pleasure in the moment and just wanting to see him writhe.
"You really thought I was mom? Were you really going to fuck her without a condom?"
"Is it a kid you want? Because you'd have better luck with me than her."
"That'd be pretty messed up though, wouldn't it? I'd have to get some random guy to be my boyfriend quick, so he'd believe it was his, and so mom would, too. But you'd know the truth."
"How many women have you slept with? I'd be so much better than them. Even my poor mom."
"Have you ever done a virgin? I bet you'd like to."
"I would let you take mine, daddy. I wouldn't trust anyone else. You're much more handsome than the boys I go to school with."
Everything you were saying was just driving him more insane with every syllable.
He had to get you off of him right now or-
Oh, fuck.
He was going to cum.
He was going to cum because of you.
You, seemingly so in tune with him and what's happening that you keep yourself going, letting him grip your hips to brace, as you keep talking.
"Are you gonna cum? It's ok, you can cum, daddy. You'll have to change the sheets, but..." You lean in and whisper. "I won't tell mommy."
That does him in. With a final move forward of your hips, you hear him let go of a gruff moan, his fingers digging into your plush hips and thighs, sure to leave bruises. You feel a warmth be added between your bodies and look down to see the wet spot on the bed has grown, and you just smile in satisfaction.
Your movements slow, then come to a halt as you ride him through his high, smiling all the while. He hasn't come like that in years. Jack's so sweaty and flushed, so out of it, that he barely registers the kiss that you plant on his cheek, before you climb off him.
You stand in front of the floor length mirror beside the bed, adjusting yourself, smoothing your hair down, examining your body. "You should probably change the bedding before mom gets home." You say casually, as if you didn't just make him come into his comforter like a high school boy. "Don't want her to find out about your little accident."
You lift your hand, looking at the ring on it one more time, before slipping it off, and setting in on his bedside table now. "I'd better go shower. Though I do so love to smell like you."
And with that, you exit and go down the hall to your room, leaving him to pick up your shared mess, changing the sheets and bedding, spraying some room spray to hide the smell of clothed sex, contemplating what the hell he's going to do when your mom finally does come home.
But not before he brings the fingers that were inside you and on your skin to his nose, inhaling deeply, wanting to savor you in any way he can.
And when he puts those same fingers in his mouth, faintly tasting your sweetness, he knows he's completely and utterly fucked.
Dividers by @astroyosei and @thecutestgrotto
Those who wanted to be tagged: @popecodysgirl @frutrypebs @j4ckr4bbits @j4ck4bbot @luvrspitt @mossunderthenightsky
Andrewâs tongue in readers pits. Is this something.
Iâm of the belief that there is a loooong list of things that Pope would be into, unconventional and all. Like the manâs already got some wires crossed, thereâs no way he doesnât have some interesting kinks. (See my previous post about Andrew, my beloved).
Andrewâs tongue in readers pits. Is this something.
Iâm of the belief that there is a loooong list of things that Pope would be into, unconventional and all. Like the manâs already got some wires crossed, thereâs no way he doesnât have some interesting kinks. (See my previous post about Andrew, my beloved).
Description: You come home for summer break from college to be greeted with a new stepdad, whom you quickly develop an unhealthy obsession with. Inspired by the movie "The Crush".
Tags: Alternating POV's, cursing, kinda stepcest (he's her stepdad so...), obsessive tendencies, Jack feeling like a creep, reader is a freak and obsessed with Jack. Not much for this tbh. Might (definitely going to) do a part 2??
He didnât mean for things to turn out like this. He had only meant to start his new position at the hospital as night shift attending when he moved to town, everything else was supposed to come second.
He wanted time to get adjusted, feel out the town a bit, before he jumped into anything serious with anyone. He hadnât been with anyone in years. Not since his wife. But the nights leading up to his first shift were just soâŠquiet. Thereâs nothing hospital related to think about yet, and he had to find something to do. After all, his therapist did say he needed a hobby that didnât include checking the scanner religiously.
So out he went to a local bar, nothing too fancy, just a place to get a few drinks, maybe play some pool, have a good time, who knows?
That was before he met her. A beautiful woman in a relatively unbeautiful part of town. Tall, around his age, gorgeous smile, hard to resist. He approached her and they hit it off right away. She worked night shift too, coincidentally. One thing led to another and before he knew it, he had her in his bed, writhing under him, telling him things he hadnât heard in years.
Things moved fast after that. Just a few months of going on dates and subsequent hook ups at his house, theyâd grown inseparable, and it wasnât long before Jack was proposing, and of course she said yes!, and only a few short months later, things were official. They didnât do anything but, theyâd both done it for their first weddings. They decided they would elope, a very private ceremony, and they could tell other people later. For now, they wanted to keep it between just them, something special.
Well, this was perfect, and things were looking up. He had a great new job, a new wife, and since they were married it felt only right that they live together, and since Jackâs lease on his apartment heâd lived in since he moved to town was about up, they decided it would just be easier for him to move in to her house.
She had offhandedly mentioned that she had a daughter a few times, would talk about you off and on while they would unpack Jacksâ things. Your mother told him how it would just be him and her for a while since you were off at college, getting your degree. She always told him how she was so proud of you, how smart you were, how pretty. Jack would joke that heâs sure you got it from her.
Months turned into a year and a half passing of Jack and your mother being together, and they couldnât be happier. It wasnât until early May that your mother was so excited to tell him that you would be visiting for your summer break! Jack couldnât lie, he was looking forward to finally meeting his stepdaughter, though the title of âstepdadâ seemed strange to give himself to a fully grown woman whoâd already lived a life, already did everything you would have needed a dadâs help for. But it meant a lot to your mother, so he was excited too.
It was only a couple short weeks later, though, that was the day you were to be moving back in for the summer. Almost 4 months, your mother had told him, that you would be staying with them. "Colleges get longer breaks", she had reminded him.
Just as your mother was finishing dinner, he heard tires rolling up into the gravel driveway, and peeking out the window, he saw your car.
"Oh, babe, will you go help her with her bags, please?" your mother asked with a smile, "I've got my hands full at the moment."
Jack agreed, of course. He was raised to be a gentleman, and helping people just came naturally to him.
You were just stepping out of your car, keys and purse in hand, when your eyes met his for the first time. He took you in, from head to toe, from your face that he could only see small parts of it mirroring your mothers', your hair framing it.
The days were starting to grow hotter, but not nearly enough to warrant what you were wearing. A cropped tea green tank hugged your curves nicely, pushing your breasts together in a way he couldn't look away from, and exposing your stomach and belly button, which he also noticed was pierced. He wondered if you had any other piercings he couldn't see.
Jacks' eyes wandered down to the jean shorts you were wearing that should almost have been classified as underwear with how much they showed, hugging your hips nicely, showing off your legs, down to the cute little wedged sandals on your feet, only accentuating your legs further and making you slightly taller.
It didn't take but a few seconds of seeing you for Jack to realize he was well and truly fucked.
You knew he was checking you out from the moment you stepped out of the car. He definitely wasn't subtle. His eyes grew to the size of saucers when he saw what you were wearing.
He better get used to it, you thought, because this was nothing compared to the tiny bikinis you'd packed for your preplanned hours lounging around the pool. This was summer vacation, and you weren't going to waste it being inside.
Besides, you didn't mind if he was looking. You were looking too, and you liked what you saw.
You really hated to admit it, but your mom had good taste. How she managed to bag this silver fox though, you had no idea.
Tall, muscles almost bulging out of the t-shirt he was wearing, a full head of hair that was almost entirely grey, just a bit of stubble framing his jaw. You tried not to lick your lips at the sight. God, he was hot.
"You must be Dr. Abbot." You purred, stepping closer to him, closer than he probably thought you would upon meeting for the first time.
He chuckled deeply, the sound only making him that much hotter. "Only people who call me that are my patients." He reached out a hand for you to shake, feeling that maybe you weren't ready for a hug quite yet. "Please, call me Jack."
But you were never a person to shy away from physical contact, so you ignored his hand, instead going in for a tight hug, both your arms wrapping around his back, your head nestled in the crook of his neck, lips almost touching the skin there.
God, he smells so good. Whatever cologne he had on was doing wonders for him.
Little did you know he was thinking the same of you. He inhaled your sweet scent, a contrast to your mothers' scent of roses, letting it wrap itself in his mind.
But he snapped out of it, taken aback by how open you already are with him, a man you just met, not letting his one hand wrap too tightly around you, giving you a half hug instead.
Your new stepdad.
You pulled away first, smiling at him wide. "Nice to finally meet you, Jack" you emphasize his name. "I've got a few bags I could use help carrying in, if you don't mind." You bat your eyes at him for good measure, leading him to your trunk and popping it open, revealing your large duffel bags you'd packed with enough of everything to last you the whole break.
And of course, he had no problem carrying them all in at once, insisting you let him handle it, that you only needed to grab your purse and go inside. You watched him as he walked up the rest of the driveway into the house, two bags in each hand, his biceps flexing as he carried them.
You bit your lip as you watched him go. What. A. Man.
You knew as soon as your mother had told you about him the first time, mentioning he was a doctor, a past military vet, so accomplished, that you couldn't wait to meet him, and now that you had? You weren't going to let him go so easily.
"Wow, so you stay pretty busy, don't you Jack?" you asked, twirling a bit of your hair around your finger slowly, listening intently as he told you about his career, his war stories, his "hobby" as a SWAT medic during his off hours.
"I guess you could say that." he replied with a slight smile, watching you watch him while your dear mother was just in the other room cleaning up after dinner.
He had an idea of what you were doing by now. The looks you gave him over dinner, your hair twirling. It was obvious to him that you were flirting, or attempting to, as he wasn't really reciprocating, despite his naturally flirty personality. It was just a silly little crush, nothing new or unusual for a woman your age. But he had to be the one to establish the boundaries here. He wasn't just some guy at college you pick up without a thought, there was a relationship there now, no matter how fresh it was.
You didn't really care if he knew what you were doing or not. Good, you wanted him to. Your mother, god love her, was just too oblivious to things, always has been, so you knew you were pretty much in the clear with her not really going to think anything other than you and him were just getting to know each other.
You liked Jack. A lot. The fact that he was married wasn't going to stop your flirting. He was attractive, and you wanted nothing more than to have him. He was a real man, nothing like the boys at school you were used to. He was already better in every way. Stronger, handsome, smart.
Older, which meant more experience. You already knew about his career, his past work with the military, his hobbies, which proved it. Now you just wanted to know if his experience bleeds over into other areas.
After your mom had finished cleaning up, you all ventured to the living room to watch a movie before turning in for the night. You sat opposite your mom so that her and Jack could be close. You couldn't make anything too obvious.
After the movie, it was your mother who spoke first, standing and stretching her arms over her head, announcing that she was tired and going to head to bed, leaning down to give you a goodnight kiss on the forehead before turning and heading up the stairs to her and Jacks' shared bedroom.
You moved shortly after, following your mothers' movements by stretching your arms, knowing it's showing off your midriff to Jack, before bending over and grabbing your previously discarded shoes.
"I suppose it is pretty late. I better get going to bed, too" You tell him as you start to walk towards the stairs before stopping short, turning to him, and in that sweet voice you'd been using on him all night, you say "It was really great meeting you, Jack. I'm so happy that you're my new stepdaddy."
And with a smile, you walked up the stairs to your room, leaving him something to think about tonight. So what if it was wrong? Maybe you liked that liking him was so forbidden. You knew he liked it too.
And boy did he think about what you said. All night as a matter of fact, as he laid beside your mother, trying and willing himself to go to sleep. To not think about what you were doing right now. If you were unpacking your bags, or showering in your en suite. He tried not to think about what your body wash smells like or what lotion you use when you dry off. It was hard, even more so what pajamas you were wearing. Were they as revealing as your outfit today?
When sleep finally found him, he was glad. It was a reprieve from the thoughts he knew he shouldn't be thinking about you.
The heat wave hit unexpectedly early. You had woken up and it was sweltering in your room, and most likely the rest of the house, and the lack of shade outside wasnât helping anything either. You toddled downstairs in your pjâs and kicked on the AC, cold air immediately shooting out of the vents.
Thankfully, your mom and Jack had cleaned and shocked the pool a few weeks prior so it was ready to swim in, and you wouldnât have to worry too much about getting sunburned from being in it all day since your mother had invested in building a lanai over and around it, which kept the bugs out and provided shade from the sun. But whoâs knows what kind of mood you would be in later, and maybe you would lay out and tan for a bit.
You couldnât stop thinking about Jack, and with that, ways that you could see him more, when an idea hit you.
âJack! Could you come here for a minute?â You called out for him, knowing he was in his bedroom just down the hall from yours.
He heard your call and immediately came running. You didnât sound like it was an emergency but why else would you be calling for him instead of just walking down the hall to go get him?
He soon found out why as he turned the corner into the doorway of your room, your door wide open, to see you, standing facing away from in in front of your full length mirror, holding the thin straps of your bikini top you had covering your front behind your back, turning to face him as he saw you.
âWould you mind helping me tie this?â You asked innocently, as if he wasnât having an internal crisis seeing you in less clothing than you were in yesterday, your bikini bottoms barely covering your ass, and your top not yet tied.
He cleared his throat before answering, stepping toward you slowly. âUmâŠyeah, sure.â
You turned back away from him to face the mirror, watching his reactions. âI was going to ask mom, but she isnât answering her phone. Do you know where she is?â You continue conversation as normally as you could.
Meanwhile, he was struggling with himself. It was like you were doing this on purpose. âShe got called into work. I guess they had a bunch of people call out, so sheâll be working a double today.â He answered as he took to the two pieces of string from your fingers gently, starting to tie them.
âOh.â You answered as he pulled the strings tight. âSoâŠitâll just be you and me today, huh?â
His hands began to shake slightly as he double knotted the bikini, trying to get out of this situation quickly so you didnât have time to take it further. He knew why you were asking that.
âI guess so. Unless you had somewhere else you needed to beâŠâ Jack replied carefully, pulling his hands away before they drifted anywhere else.
You turned around to face him with a nice smile, knowing the effect you were having on him. âNope. Thought Iâd get in the pool for awhile, tan a little bit. Maybe make myself a drink or twoâŠâ you drifted as you walked past him, grabbing your beach towel, sunscreen and sunglasses.
He chuckled as he followed you out of your room into the hallway, and you were hoping he was staring at you as you walked down the stairs towards the kitchen with intent to make that drink you mentioned.
âWhat about you, Jack?â You asked sweetly, rummaging around the alcohol cabinet you remember your mother keeping. âDo you have any plans today?â
You get your glass and make your drink as you wait for his answer, only to look up and see that heâs a little zoned out, eyes trained on your tits.
You let out a giggle. This is going to be easier than you thought.
You clear your throat to get his attention. âJack? Did you hear me?â
He quickly snaps out of it. âOh shit, did you see him? How long was he staring for?â was all he could think and pray that you hadn't noticed at all.
He knew how wrong it was to look at you like how he was, and he also knew that you were teasing him, trying to get him to do things he shouldn't, things he wouldn't normally do. He was a married man, happily in fact. So why, why, were you of all things the reason for him to start slipping?
"Oh, sorry." he recovers. "Not really. I'm still on vacation until the end of the week. Your mom said she wanted to spend as much time as we could with you during this first week you were here. You know crazy her work schedule is."
"Oh, I know. She's been a workaholic since I was little" you reply, picking up your glass and heading out to the pool, recalling all of the times you were left with a grandparent or babysitter because she was always getting called into work, or picking up a shift, requesting more hours. You couldn't fault her too much though; she was a good mother despite it all. It's just a shame you want her husband too much.
"But that's how she's been able to afford all this." You motion towards the lanai, the pool, the house. "And we get to reap the benefits occasionally" you tell him cheekily, setting your things down, settling into one of the pool floats, drink in hand, sipping on the sweet flavor.
Jack could leave at any time. He didn't have to stand here, watching you. It wasn't as if you were a little kid who needed constant supervision. After all, he hadn't lied. He didn't have any plans, but he could make them. He could go out and play some golf, kill some time. It was a nice day. He didn't want to creep you out with him being there, on the off chance that all of your flirty comments and looks have all been in his head, and he's just the dirty old man that he feels like. But looking at you there in your skimpy, tight bikini, he just wanted an excuse to hang around you a little longer.
Taking a seat in one of the lounge chairs on the concrete deck, Jack sits with his legs spread, leaned forward, his elbows resting on his knees. You watch him like a hawk watches a mouse, your eyes drifting down towards the outline of his crotch you can clearly see in his pants. You bet it's big like the rest of him. You don't care if you're being obvious right now or not. It's not like anyone is around to see.
"So we never got around to talking about you last night." Jack tells you.
"What do you wanna know?" you reply, liking that he has an interest in you.
"Well, I guess for starters, what college did you say you were at?"
You tell him easily. "I'm in my third year, so I'm almost done, but..." you trail off.
He's interested now. "But what?"
You sigh, knowing that he was going to find out sooner or later. "My mom isn't going to be happy, but... I'm taking a gap year." You twiddle with the stem of your glass, not wanting to look at his face, a look of disappointment plastered to it like you know there will be with your mom. You can practically hear her voice now telling you the same thing you always hear from people her age. That once you do, you won't want to go back and finish. "I just haven't figured out a way to tell her yet."
You get the courage to look up at him to find not a look of disappointment but instead understanding. Then, a moment later, he speaks:
"I think that's a good idea."
Definitely not what you were expecting him to say.
"You do?" you ask incredulously.
He nods in affirmation. "Yeah, why not? I took one when I was in college back in the day, when I was a resident."
You giggle at his wording, and he has to will his dick not to twitch at the sound.
"'Back in the day'? Was that in the 1900's?" you joke with him, playing into it.
He tilts his head up, looking down his nose at you with a smirk, his voice gravelly. "Yeah, back when charts were written by candlelight."
You can't help but laugh at his joking, and seeing this less serious, less nervous side of him was only serving to do wonders for your imagination. Before you can think to deeply about anything though, he speaks again with a smile. "Seriously though, I think it's a good idea. Sometimes you need a break. But it just depends on what you plan on doing during the time off that makes a difference."
You pipe up now, happily telling him your plans. "Well, I actually have an internship lined up in August."
"Seems to me you already thought it through then" he says with a smile. "You got a good head on your shoulders. Proud of you, kid."
Oh, how his words make your head dizzy.
"I could help you talk to your mom about it if you want" he offers.
"You would?" you ask excitedly. "Oh my god, I would love that! Thank you."
"Nah, don't worry about it. What are... stepdads for?" he fumbles with the words, still new and wrong sounding on his tongue, as he stands up, walking towards the lanai door, deciding that was a good note to leave on. Maybe he will go out and do something to kill some time. You'll be alright here by yourself.
His words only make you smile more; makes you want him more. God, you're practically dripping with how kind and competent he is.
"Oh, and jack?" you ask, stopping him, making him turn around to face you. Your hand not holding your drink drifts up to one of the triangles of fabric covering your breast, tracing the edge lightly. "And if you ever need anything, I'm always here for you."
Your hand now starts to tug it just slightly downwards, not quite low enough to show your nipple, but low enough that he gets a view of what you're working with, what you desperately want him to touch. "Things that... maybe my mom can't give you anymore..."
He's frozen in place, his body willing his feet to move, to turn away, but his mind isn't cooperating. His body is pulled taught, heat moving all through him now, at war with his mind.
This is wrong. You're disgusting. Stop this. Tell her this is inappropriate.
You keep your hand there for a moment more before letting go, the fabric snapping back into place, also seeming to snap Jack out of his little trance, regaining some sense as you purr out "What are stepdaughters for?"
At that, he turns around faster than was probably necessary, red faced and blood pumping, not leaving the house, but going up to his and your mothers shared en suite, needing an ice cold shower before he could go out and do anything, to rinse away the perverted interaction he just had with her daughter.
And you, still in the pool, definitely saw the half chub he was sporting before he turned away.
Oh, this was going to be a fun summer.
Dividers by @astroyosei and @thecutestgrotto
People who asked to be tagged in this, or I think would like to be who isn't alr on my reg list: @popecodysgirl @frutrypebs @j4ckr4bbits @j4ck4bbot @luvrspitt
Iâm a sucker for a stripper!reader. Can you please tell us more about that? đ
I can do you one better, I can give a small snippet of it too! And thank you so much for the ask, lovely đ
Itâs going to be about how reader is a stripper at a club that the boys want to pull a job at. Reader finds out their intentions and decides she wants a taste of their life.
And maybe she thinks Pope is hot af and wants to put on a little dance for him in the back when sheâs working a job at another club theyâre scouting and bounce on it crazy style??
!!Slight spoilers for Animal Kingdom!!
âSince Smurf died, The Cody boys are struggling to find jobs and keep up with their connections that they had. Everything seems bleak.
Until, one night, a group of women come into Deransâ bar talking about their takes after a night of dancing at the newer club down the street, so he listens in, naturally.
âI canât believe that bachelor party bought 3 dances from me! Thatâs more than my rent for this month!â One of the women exclaimed happily.
âAnd thatâs why weâre celebrating.â You reply, sipping your beer, then hold it up in a toast. âTo rich, desperate menâ as the other women youâre with cheers and down their drinks.
Thatâs all Deran needed to hear to know that he just found a job to present to the others.â
I love stripper!reader as well, no matter the pairing too, so this was one I feel like was inevitable for me to write đ
for the wip game can you give a little snippet or share something about Express Yourself, Don't Repress Yourself
also love the title, human nature is one of my fav madonna songs
Hi!!
That is actually the working title for my part 2 of The Crush! I took inspiration from bits and pieces from that song and the original movie The Crush, so it made sense to me!
So I have two characters in mind for this but I canât decide which one I like more.
Sammy Bryant: After he gets off shift, you and him start to get a little hot and heavy and he brings up how you said you had wanted to roleplay with him being a cop arresting you, and you are MORE than happy to oblige!
Pope Cody: You see him after he gets off a job, all masked and gloved up, and you just reaaaally want to experience what it would be like to be one of his hostages, and heâs got the perfect tools to do it đ
Thank you to @baronessvonglitter for the tag! I love being tagged in these fun games <3
rules: make a new post with the names of all the files in your wip folder, regardless of how non-descriptive or ridiculous. Let people send you an ask with the title that most intrigues them, and then post a little snippet or tell them something about it!
I have just added my wips titles, but I don't have much rn :/ (Leaving the characters off but some might be telltale)
Express Yourself, Don't Repress Yourself
x stripper! reader
The Face of Loves Rage Part 12
Cuffed Up
Tagging some moots (sorry if you've already been tagged by someone else)
