(Okay so my head-cannon is that Robby is a hopeless romantic who would be so gentle and loving at having sex and stuff. He be calling sex “making love” lol. But then he discovered he couldn’t handle how much the image of fucking Jack turns him on, the intensity of it nearly making him feral. The idea that he might lose control scares him so much that he buries it and insist on bottoming. And of course Jack clocks it. )
—
When they first started having sex, Robby insisted on bottoming. Robby’s reason for it, as he told Jack, was because he wanted to take pressure off his knee as much as possible. That meant most of the time they ended up in the position with Robby riding him, Jack having the front row seat for the extremely hot visuals of Robby passionately working at it. That was not until Jack finally got Robby to top him, it taking him a month of relentless Abbot-style coaxing to wheedle Robby into giving in and saying yes.
And oh, was he not prepared for what it had in store for him.
Robby, the hopeless romantic who took everything so slowly and gently, turned absolutely feral when he finally pushed inside Jack and learnt what he felt like. Jack was not ready for how ravenous and possessive Robby became — hell, he nearly let out a whimper when Robby grasped onto his ass, the sheer strength and dominance unlike anything Jack had ever experienced. Robby fucked him in a way that left him feeling utterly defenseless, and Jack more than willingly left everything at his disposal, as if his body was Robby’s to hold, to love, to own, and to devour.
Jack was floating. He was floating, and Robby’s hands on his hips as he bottomed out with each thrust was his only anchoring point. The Robby he thought he knew was nowhere to be found, and in his place was this Robby, this beast, pupils dark, breathless and growling a jumbo of low, filthy promises into his ear that threatened to take him apart. This Robby, consumed by raw desire and pure hunger, his skin glistening with sweat as he buried himself in Jack, again and again, hard, commanding, holding absolutely nothing back.
And after, as Jack laid undone in Robby’s arms, loose-limbed and adrift in the euphoric realm only Robby could have led him to, he allowed himself to savor the sensation of his body hurting in all the right places — he would definitely be feeling it for a while. He was fucked, all right.
He wondered why Robby had even thought about denying him this, this, as if Jack would ever hesitate giving up anything just to experience it again.
“Remind me…why we never did this?” Jack muttered, dazed and spell-bound, his words coming out slow as he turned his head to find Robby, whose eyes held a dreamlike glow as if he had just been given the permission to marvel at the most precious thing in the world.
Jack was never going to recover from this.
Robby pulled him closer, the warmth of their bodies radiating and basking Jack in a serenity beyond imagination. How he wished that he could live in that exact moment for all of eternity.
“I thought about having you like this…” Robby drawled, his voice low and husky. “I thought about having you like this, and dreamt of this moment for I don’t even know how many times. It unleashed something within me. You have no idea how the thought of it already drives me wild.”
Robby paused, suddenly self-conscious. His hand came up to Jack’s cheek, fingers tracing his stubble, contemplative. “I was afraid it was gonna be too much. I didn’t want to risk losing control.” His fingertips finding the corner of Jack’s mouth, touch so tender and affectionate.
“I didn’t want to risk hurting you.”
So in all the times that followed, when Robby attempted to hold back from giving into his desires, cared too much to act recklessly and overthought too much to act at all, Jack would find himself assuring Robby again and again, with his words, his actions, and his body and its reactions, that this was everything he had ever dreamt of.
Parker’s black scrub top is on the floor, next to your forgotten set of black lingerie. The expensive lace pulled off your body only after Parker licked you over the lace, then slipped them to the slide and ate some more. Once she was satisfied, she tugged off the straps and finally untied the elastic band on her scrubs.
“Fuck me.”
Your breathy whine has Parker smiling with pride. She had an idea of how you’d react when she pulled down her pants, but it’s always nice when you react before your brain can catch up.
The purple, heavy strap that hangs between her legs and over her briefs is mesmerizing. The vibrant purple silicone slightly curves up and has a blunt rounded head. Fake veins decorate the silicone and you know they’re prominent enough so you’ll feel them.
“Think it’ll fit?”
“Mhmm,” you agree, rolling your hips towards her so you can prove yourself right, prove to her that you can take her new strap.
The curved shape and wide girth only made you more excited and your greed made her chuckle darkly, “Oh, you want it. This greedy pussy can't wait to be filled up, huh?”
Her spit soaked thumb goes to rub your sensitive clit when she says it, making you twitch with need.
“I want it,” you moan, “Put it in my stomach.”
Your words make her chuckle darkly. Memories of you singing the words in her ear as a joke when she’d come back home to your shared apartment flood her mind. Your empty words made her smile, but she knew you wanted her act on it, hence the new purchase.
With your legs wrapped around her waist and your back on the soft mattress, it’s easy for Parker to lean over your body. Her strap sits over your clit and rests just under your belly button.
Back on my Robby has both touch aversion and touch starvation bullshit.
As if it weren't bad enough that he has that contradictory set of issues.
the one exception to the aversion has to be the exact person whose touch would undo him completely.
I needed to write about it, so... have this snippet of Robby and his very normal, completely fine evening of watching a basketball game with his best friend in which he barely watches half of the damn game.
rabbot | 1.3k | angst if u squint | but also comfort | tiny splash of subspace at the end as a treat for both Michael and Me
The game was on the third quarter now, but Robby had stopped actively paying attention to it somewhere around the second.
It wasn't his fault though. The Knicks were down by eleven and Jack had been giving a shitload of commentary that had very little to do with basketball and a lot more to do with his personal beef with specific players that Robby knew dated back years.
It was background noise in the best way possible. That kind Robby's brain didn't have to do anything with and could instead just… turn off.
Unfortunately though, that plan hadn't panned out the way he intended, because for some damn reason, something was different today, compared to the many times he had constructed this situation.
Instead of being able to just exist in the proximity that was so much more than just a ball game, Michael was aware the entire time.
Aware of the fact that Jack's arm was laying along the back of the couch.
Now… that wasn't unheard of and far from the first time it had happened, but today, during his shift, he had overheard a singular piece of a conversation that simply wouldn't let him rest.
'Oh, well that's not surprising. Dr. Robby doesn't really like being touched.'
Which… was true. To some degree, but instead of just appreciating the fact that his boundaries were being respected and communicated, Robby's mind immediately shot to the fact that he wanted nothing more than being touched. Nothing. More.
Yet never would allow himself that.
The arm was not around him and that was the thing. It was just… there. Draped over the cushions lining the back of the couch; Like Jack needed somewhere to put it, the back of the couch was both convenient and comfy and Robby just happened to be there.
Entirely without ulterior motive. Just like every time.
Now Michael had become aware of it in the way one became aware of a sound that'd been going for a while. Not immediately as it started, but after some internal threshold had gotten surpassed and ones brain decided that it was time to register it now.
The warmth of that arm sitting almost-but-not-quite on his shoulders-
The fact that if he shifted back even just a minimal amount-
But Michael didn't shift back.
Instead he thought about why not.
He thought about Santos who'd grabbed his elbow some two weeks ago to get his attention. How Robby had shifted away without taking his attention off her, responded and then spent the next ten minutes utterly aware of his own elbow as if it was an open wound in need of navigating around.
He thought about how touch lands wrong on him usually. Acting as too much information. Too much intimacy for what it pretended to be. People touching him to get his attention or a point across and his body logged every single instance of it with a faint, persistent static he'd learned to just- live with.
Maybe he didn't like touch after all.
Jack's arm hadn't moved and there was no static to report.
However, this time that was the part he kept returning to, circling it without landing on the conclusion. That silence, where a clear discomfort about the incoming touch would be.
But… He was fine.
More than fine actually.
Michael was sitting there in that specific warmth of Jack not-quite-touching him and some traitorous part of him had been quietly cataloguing the exact distance between Jack's arm and his shoulders. Wanting. Wanting in a way that had nothing to do with anything reasonable for that distance to close.
Michael wanted it the way he wanted things he never let himself have. Badly and without any logic tied to it, and underneath everything else, like a damn frequency his body's been broadcasting for so long he'd forgotten it was there in the first place.
The problem - and he saw this very clearly - was that if this were anyone else on that couch, he wouldn't want it. He'd be managing it. Smiling, staying still, waiting for it to be over.
But the wanting and the aversion seemingly ran on the same track, the same wire, which meant the only touch that didn't make him want to crawl out of his skin, was the exact touch he couldn't ever afford letting himself need.
Because Jack would notice.
Of course he fucking would.
Jack who had known him for long enough to read him even when Robby was actively working on being unreadable in his expressions and actions.
Jack, who could see through every facade of his and butt his way head first through any stubbornness he put on.
If he shifted back in the slightest and Jack's arm were to settle around his shoulders, then something in Robby's face would change and betray him.
Which Jack would clock immediately.
Which would then turn into a moment of Michael baring himself in a way he hadn't even allowed himself to look at for a long time.
So he sat precisely the way he did. He held his beer in his hand and he watched the Knicks.
When the Knicks score, Jack's arm lifts off the couch, accompanying his huff of disapproval.
"Clean shot," Robby says, his voice a little wobbly from the stiffness in his neck. He said it because it was a clean shot and because he needed to be saying something out loud after all this time. Certainly not because the absence of the arm behind him had landed in his soul like a damn sinking anchor.
"It wasn't a clean-" Jack turned to stare at him with a fully betrayed look in his eyes; then his hand dropped right onto Robby's head and tipped it forward the way one were to dunk someone in a cake. "Robby!"
When he was satisfied with the punishment of straining Robby's neck, Jack looked forward again at the TV. His hand however, didn't move back to the top of the couch. Instead it just… stayed.
Shifting slightly from the top of his head down to the back of Michael's neck, Jack's fingers settled at his nape with something that could only be the absolute thoughtlessness of familiarity. Like they had simply found the exact place they'd wanted to go and stopped there.
Robby didn't say anything.
He wasn't sure if he could if he wanted to in the first place.
His body was frozen in place as he was more than just aware than moving a single muscle would lead to that hand leaving his skin, moving somewhere far away from him again.
The Knicks scored again and distantly, Jack said something about it. The commentary continues as the game went on, but Michael heard none of it.
He sat in the warm, unbearable and completely ordinary fact that Jack's hand was draped across the back of his neck and had to admit that it changed something within him.
Something in his chest had gotten very quiet, settled down for the first time of what felt ages, held in place by a touch that he'd craved for even longer.
The thick fingers wrapping around the base of his skull didn't rest but instead let their tips run through the short hairs in Michael's nape.
If the Knicks lost by fourteen, several minutes later, Michael didn't see it.
How was he supposed to, with how heavy and deep his breaths had gotten, grounding him in the moment.
How was he supposed to notice with how hazy and blurry his vision had turned, giving him no chance to even guess what had been going down on that screen.
How was he supposed to notice anything, when there was this warm buzz spreading from his nape and seeping into every limb, making it impossible to focus.
If Jack had stopped watching the game several minutes ago, then Michael hadn't noticed it at all.
manipulative pope cody + ‘just the tip?’ + breeding kink drabble :3
this is for my moots who inspired me to blurb! i luv you~ @valleyanimalz @dirtygir1 @bbuuunnyyy @groovyangelkisses
*nasty smut below the cut teehee* ! mdni !
pope cody hates that you make him wear a condom, that you have been making him wrap it up for the entire two month relationship. he feels it’s an unnecessary barrier keeping him from feeling all of you and filling you up properly. but, he agreed the first time because he was so desperate to be inside you. always has been. always will be.
now, even after you’ve fucked more times than he can count while protected. he’s fed up. he knows that you’ll like it bare. that you’ll need it. that you’ll never make him wear a stupid condom again when you learn how good it feels when he sinks into you raw. you just need his help. need your strong, heroic boyfriend to take that step that you cant take yourself. god, he’s so good to you. that’s what he tells himself when he formulates his plan.
he made sure you came on his face at least three times. until your legs were jelly, brain mush, voice hoarse from begging him to stop. ‘i-i can’t’ you had whined, ‘ ‘s too much andy!’. he did it to get you into that floaty head space where you’re babbling mindlessly and lax for him.
and you’re exactly that as pope crawls up your body and settles where he belongs, above you and inbetween your legs. still, you breathlessly slur the question that he despises. “condom?”
he feigns frustration even though this is exactly what he planned. “shit— i left my wallet in craig’s car… i don’t have one.”
your response is a needy whine that morphs into a gasp when he rests his cock against your drenched folds and slowly slides back and forth. “can i just have you like this sweetheart?” pope rubs his thick length upwards, angry pink tip catching your clit with every pressing glide. you whimper through your desperate nods, nails clawing at his shoulders, fusing your knees to his ribs to stay spread for him. such a good girl, he thinks to himself.
he keeps his ruttings short. almost playfully light in order to not get you anywhere besides out of your mind from teasing. just how he wants it. when you start to wriggle beneath him, whimpering a few mindless “please please please”s, he looks down at your aching pussy to see her clench around nothing. poor baby, she needs me so bad, he tells himself.
his dick is so drenched in your slick releases that pope ‘accidentally’ notches at your opening. staying in motion, he pushes in ever so slightly. your eyes shoot open in surprise “ohh- andy!” you squeal. frustration bubbles in his chest, but he doesn’t give up. because your panic simmers to heat and your mouth forms an ‘o’ as you moan at just his bare tip breaching your wet heat.
he buries his face into your neck to hide his satisfied grin, licking and suckling the skin how he knows you like. “jus the tip sweetheart? please?” he emphasizes his wimpy whines with an inching forward of his hips. your nails tear at the flesh on his back as you shudder. “p-promise?” you croak out. his reply is strained. “ ‘course honey.”
popes promise — to him at least— goes up in flames when he slips a tiny bit further inside and is met with warm, silky tightness. fuckkk. he groans, muscles tensing and you cry out, eyes rolling back. his thrusts are shallow and unsatisfactory. after a only a few, he’s twitching in need, pathetically trying to inch deeper.
you notice, starting to whine and pant. “you cant! i’m n-not on the pill!” the words almost make pope start to piston in and out of you. the thought of coming in you until you’re swollen with his baby infiltrating his mind. that you’ll be tied to him forever and— oh yeah. that’s happening, he decides.
pope leans down to kiss you languidly. trying to tongue fuck you into submission. your pussy is rapidly fluttering around the first inch of him, telling him that you want this just as bad as he does. he uses his words. “you just feel so good sweetheart. need you so bad. need all of you.” a breathy moan slips from you at his praise as you return his kiss greedily.
you pull back and blink up at him with your glossy eyes and kiss bitten lips. when your legs start to wrap around him, crossing tightly at his back, he knows he’s almost home free. “okay... i- i need you too andy.”
you barely get the words out before he hastily pushes all the way inside of you. guttural noises of pleasure are ripped from you both as you clench around him so prettily and he stretches you out so perfectly. it’s searing, intimate and raw. so fucking raw.
as pope starts to thrust in and out of you eagerly, obscene slapping sounds echo throughout the room. he whimpers loudly at the warm, wet feeling of you and the noises your body makes for him.
when you shakily tell him between moans “you h-have to pull out okay?”
it takes all of his dwindling restraint not to laugh in your face.
“So fucking tight, babygirl,” Robby grunts out, hands tight on her waist, giving it to her hard from behind. “Does it feel good?"
“Yes, d—Daddy.” Dana's voice shakes from pleasure. She only calls him that as a joke, but she’s so deep in it, it makes sense. It no longer feels like a joke. It feels right to call him that, to sink deeper into need for him, to shove back on his cock and whine for more.
or
sub dana, service top robby, and an exploration of what Would make dana fucking say that. and porn. pure porn. (With background Robby/jack/dana, Jack is on the phone at times)
i wrote this for myself and @pinkstuff0 (thank you for helping me come up with the script!) not intending anyone else to read it, but yall lovingly talked me into posting it in the hope that there might be one magic stranger out there who also likes danarobby and would enjoy this.
i am not expecting this to get any attention at all, but if there is anyone who enjoyed it or has been hoping for something like this, please let me know, because you would make my day!! if you want some filthy daddy kink porn, this is for you!
also thinking about jack picking you up from the bar after you get a little toooo drunk and him trying to hold onto his willpower because you're all over him and touching him and cooing at him but he shouldn't when you're so far gone...
maybe you push him a little too far and he gives in
18+ mdni !! cw: daddy kink
you stumble out of the bar, your friends hanging onto your arms, trying not to fall. you see jack's truck parked at the curb, window rolled down as he scrolls on his phone, waiting for you. his head perks up when he hears the bar door slam, face softening as he sees you--dress a little bit too hiked up for his liking, beautiful legs on display, heels dangling from your hand, dumb smile on that pretty face. fuck, he loved you.
"jackie!" you exclaim, untangling from your friends arms, running over to the passenger side of his truck. he chuckles, gets out to round the hood of the car, grabbing you by the hips to lean down, giving you a deep kiss. your friends squeal n he chuckles in your mouth, pulling away with a smile, "hi, baby--have fun tonight?"
you nod, a bit shy now as you paw at his arm, turning into him, "wanna go home--" he hums, putting his hand on the small of your back as he opens the car door, lifting you to place you in the seat. "say bye to your friends, honey." shutting your door, he walks back to the driver's seat as you wave to your friends through the window, giggling n smirking.
you're already on him the second he pulls off the curb, running your nails down his arm, tracing the veins in his hand, twirling your finger around the silver curls at his neck, trailing kisses all over his cheek, neck, hair, arm... you needed him now.
he's chuckling, trying his absolute best to keep both hands on the wheel and his focus on the dark road--but fuck you make it hard. "someone missed me--come on, baby. sit back in your seat until we get home."
you whine, pouting as you sling your arm across, bringing his face closer to whisper in his ear, "but daddy-- i need you right now." jack curses, swerving the car a bit as you nibble on his earlobe, trailing your hand down to palm his growing cock, murmuring another, "please". he jerks the steering wheel, causing you to yelp, falling a little back in your seat as he pulls over on the dirt road.
turning the car off, he looks at you sitting there--skin flushed, lace panties peaking out from under your dress, hair all wild, and grabs your arm, pulling you. "let's go, baby--sit on daddy's cock since you wanna be impatient."
you smile so wide, unaffected by his tone, giggling as you crawl over the middle console, throwing your arms around his neck to kiss him deeply, eagerly grinding down on him. he groans in your mouth, settling his hands on your plushy hips, hands moving up and down your waist. as you kiss down his neck he laughs, tugging your dress up your waist you palm your ass, "my girl's so needy, having daddy pull over--look at you."
you pull back, hands working on his belt to take out his thick cock, gripping him tight, jerking slowly as you both watch. lifting up, you move your panties to the side, lining yourself up with him, moaning as your pussy swallows him. your forehead falls against his shoulder as he fucks up into you, cursing, "fuck, baby. so fucking tight--that feel good?" eyes closed, you lean back, grabbing your tits through your dress, pulling it down to play with your nipples as you nod eagerly.
he coos, chuckling at how fucked out you are, unable to answer him properly, "'s okay, just let daddy take care of you--that's it." you try so hard to move your hips, but jack helps you, fucking yourself on him--using you like a toy. bringing his hand down to circle your clit, you cum fast, clenching around his cock--squeezing him so tight. he groans, moving you faster, tits bouncing in his face. jack comes inside of you, dick pulsing inside you as he holds you there, stroking your back as you snuggle into his neck.
he tries to move you off of him, wanting to set you back in your seat, but you pout, squirming as you hold him tighter n he sighs, "okay--okay, baby." tucking you in closer, still warming his cock, he moves to turn the car back on, pulling back onto the road, happy he's only got three minutes left of the drive.
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