My AO3 is Beautiful-River I post there first. I take request and will write for Marvel, The Adventure Zone, Gravity Falls, Supernatural, also more just ask.
Reader who started calling Rocky pet names out of habit and, after explaining, Rocky loves it. But then reader and Grace start dating and you call him a pet name and suddenly Rocky is seething with jealousy.
“Rock, honey, be careful,” it slips out when he barrels past in his ball one day.
You’re writing on a white board when he squeezes past, knocking into the leg of the table and causing it to shake, sending some utensils flying. Obviously he’s incredibly sturdy (…rocky…), but he can be kind of reckless sometimes.
“No understand second word.” At least he stops rolling around to ask.
Grace looks up from his work bench, glasses sliding down his nose to where they’re almost falling off, and glances between the two of you. He’s in one of his stupid pun shirts that grip his biceps too tight, and you can’t think about that too much or else your mind will wander.
You realize what you said and that now you have to explain pet names to an alien. “Oh uh…” you look back at Ryland for assistance, but he just throws his hands up in a this-one-is-on-you gesture before returning to his work, slipping his pen between his teeth as he thinks.
You look back to Rocky who is eagerly awaiting your explanation.
“…It’s a pet name. A term of endearment,” you decide to go with, “Like something you call someone you care about.”
He’s quiet for a moment, then, “care about Rocky? Question.”
You’re shocked that it’s a question. You squat down to be semi-level with him, hand finding the top of his ball, “yeah. Of course I do Rocky.”
He extends himself so his carapace bonks the tops of the ball where your hand is. The ball does a great job at insulation, but you can still feel a little more heat seep through when he does.
“Amaze amaze amaze. Rocky cares about humans too, statement.”
You smile, but then remember something else, “Oh! Honey is also a food, though.”
He shrinks back down, you assume because he’s put off by the mention of eating. He takes a single step back, ball rolling a small amount.
“Rocky food? Question.”
You burst out in laughter, Ryland can’t help but join too.
“No! Rocky not food! Honey is sweet, so you call someone honey when their personality is sweet too.”
“Oh, understand. Rocky sweet!” He does his little happy chirps and jazz hands that always make you get a little cuteness aggression.
“…debatable…” you hear Grace murmur from his station, probably because Rocky rolled over his toe this morning.
“No, Rocky sweet, statement. Other human said so, Grace is dumb dumb dumb human, smart smart smart human call Rocky sweet.”
You stand and laugh, happy to gang up on Ryland with Rocky, “yeah, Ry, I’m smart smart smart.”
It’s months later after you and Ryland finally stop pretending that you only love each other as ‘crew mates’ that it gets brought up again.
“Ry, can you pass the p20,” you’re running more experiments on the taumoeba, at this point more out of boredom than anything.
He hands the pipette to you from across the bench. “Thank you, honey.” The word slides out without you even realizing it, but someone in the room definitely takes notice.
Rocky stops his ministrations with his xenonite, dropping it and rapidly tapping on the barrier.
“What. Grace not honey, Rocky is honey! Only Rocky get pet name, statement.”
You look up incredulously, unaware that Rocky felt so strongly about his pet name.
Grace seems fairly shocked at his insistence too, but he’s not one to pass an opportunity to tease Rocky. He tilts his head like he’s thinking before looking over at Rocky, “Well, no bud, I’m pretty sure I’m honey. Maybe when you can pass a pipette…” Ryland teases.
“No no no, Rocky honey, Grace is leaky space blob, other human knows Rocky better.”
You can’t stop your giggle. It feels a little mean because clearly Rocky is actually passionate about this, but his possession is cute.
“Okay! I’m sorry!” You say through the giggles, “It was an accident. Rocky is honey. Ry, you…we’ll workshop it.” You’re not sure if he even likes pet names, let alone which ones.
He pouts across the lab bench to you.
“No workshop. No special name for Grace, only Rocky.”
warnings: lack of sleep is taking its toll on him; angry Rocky; cuddling, some flirting; Reader is in danger; Reader is hurt; Ryland is caring and sweet; Rocky is a menace
note : life on Hail Mary - lack of sleep, danger, but also the need for closeness.
A/N: Nothing special. I had one scene in mind, so I had to write everything around it. I wanted to thank you all because I see you're reading. It means a lot to me. It's hard to get back into writing after a break…
[Ryland Grace masterlist] [main masterlist]
"Grace stupid."
You looked up from your tablet at Rocky, who was shifting restlessly inside his xenonite enclosure. You couldn’t see a face—if he even had one—but his posture made it obvious: he was irritated. Ryland, meanwhile, dragged a hand through his hair, only making it worse. He was clearly sulking.
"Easy, buddy," he muttered, pointing at Rocky before turning to you. "Did you hear what he just called me?"
You pressed your lips together, setting your tablet aside with deliberate care. "Well… Grace, I don’t think he’s entirely wrong."
Ryland threw his hands up. "Wow. Okay. You’re taking his side!"
"You and Rocky alliance. Good. Grace still stupid."
For hours, the lab had been filled with intense work and loud arguments. The experiment they’d been so sure about had failed immediately. Neither of them gave up, of course—just pivoted, recalculated, argued, and tried again.
If not for you, Grace and Rocky would’ve forgotten to eat entirely. And when they ignored you, you had to physically herd them away like stubborn children, promising they could come back once they’d finished their food.
You checked your watch. Nearly sixteen hours. No wonder Grace was getting sloppy. No wonder Rocky was irritated.
"You need to lie down," you said, stepping toward Ryland. "You need sleep."
"I don’t need—"
You took the tools from his hands and pushed his goggles up onto his forehead.
"Don’t argue with me," you said firmly. "Rocky’s right. When you’re tired, you get irritable and act… stupid."
He rolled his eyes but didn’t fight you. "I just want this to work. We’re close. I can feel it. Another hour or two and—"
"And then Armando gets to hook you up to life support? No. You’re done."
Rocky shifted slightly in his enclosure, pretending not to listen, but he failed. "Grace must sleep. You correct. You smarter than Grace."
You bit back a laugh and rested a hand on Ryland’s shoulder before he could respond. The last thing you needed was another argument on the Hail Mary.
"You take Grace to sleep, question? You watch Grace, question?"
That got you thinking. Rocky rarely asked to be replaced while watching Grace—not like this. He must have been in a really bad mood right now.
"I promise," you said gently, tapping the transparent wall. "Everything okay, Rocky?"
"Will be good after Grace sleeps.” But he tapped lightly in return.
You took Ryland’s arm and led him toward the dorm.
"He likes you more than me," Grace muttered, glancing back.
"Don’t be jealous," you said quietly. You knew Rocky could hear every word anyway. And you also knew he’d still be listening.
The dorm lights were dim. Grace kicked off his Converse and set his glasses aside with zero precision. At some point, the two of you had pushed your mattresses together. One was too narrow. Two were better. Safer, and somehow - less lonely.
He collapsed onto the bed with a long sigh. You sat against the wall, picking up a jumpsuit and examining the tear in the sleeve. Quiet work felt right while he rested. Maybe you’d put on an audiobook—there were still so many left in the archive.
"What are you doing?" His voice pulled you out of your thoughts.
"I’ve got a suit to repair," you said, holding it up.
"Don’t be ridiculous. Come here."
"You need sleep."
"Yeah, and how am I supposed to sleep if you’re sitting over there?" He propped himself up, frowning. "It’s bad enough Rocky’s probably still listening, maybe watching too."
You sighed. You weren’t winning this one. "Are you sure?"
"Absolutely. It’s science. Probably. I mean, there are studies—okay, I don’t remember them exactly, but it sounds like something science would support."
You raised an eyebrow. "That sounds made up."
"It is. But it’s also true."
"...Wow. Okay."
You slipped off your shoes and lay down beside him. For a moment, neither of you spoke. Just the distant hum of the ship, the faint sounds of the lab far away.
Then—
"I’m really glad you’re here. I mean—not glad you’re on a suicide mission. That part is objectively terrible. But… you being here is not terrible." he said. "I mean—this whole situation sucks, obviously. But… yeah. I’m glad it’s you."
You smiled softly. "I’m glad too. Though I would’ve preferred meeting you under better circumstances. Dinner or something like this, maybe."
Ryland swallowed. "Wait—really? You mean, like… a date?"
"Yes. A date. If you wanted."
"Yes—" he said immediately. Too immediately. Then he froze. "I mean—yes. Hypothetically. In a purely theoretical, post-not-dying scenario—yes."
You laughed. "Good. Then when this is over, that’s the first thing we’re doing."
He smiled, softer now. "Deal," he said, and paused. "That sounded too intense. I didn’t mean it like—okay, I’m going to stop talking now."
Your hand found his, your fingers threading together naturally. "You should be asleep," you murmured.
"Working on it." Grace yawned, his eyes already slipping shut. "My brain is currently running three parallel processes," he muttered. "One is exhausted, one is trying to solve the experiment, and one is… this." He gestured vaguely between you. "This one is the least efficient."
You smiled softly. "And which one is winning?"
"None," he mumbled. "Total system failure imminent."
You let out a quiet breath, your thumb brushing lightly against his hand.
"Dr. Grace," you said softly, "I once read a study that said hugging reduces stress. Don’t you think that, combined with your current research, we might—"
"I think that’s an excellent idea," he murmured, cutting in before you could finish. "Groundbreaking. Nobel Prize. Minimum."
His voice faded at the edges, words blurring as sleep caught up with him. You shifted closer, careful, resting lightly against him. For a second, he went still—just for a second— then relaxed. His breathing slowed, evening out, steady and warm beneath your cheek. You stayed like that, listening. It wasn’t ideal. It wasn’t what you would have chosen. But it was good. Somehow.
Rocky was already waiting when you stepped back into the lab. "Grace sleep efficiency improved, question."
You blinked. “Yes?"
"Good. Rocky observations confirm."
Ryland groaned behind you. "Oh no. What did you observe?"
"Heart rate lower. Breathing stable. Grace not stupid during sleep."
You pressed your lips together. "Rocky—"
"Also," he added, "proximity to you increases Grace survival probability."
Ryland froze. "I—what?"
"Conclusion: you stay close to Grace. For science." A pause. "Rocky approve."
Ryland buried his face in his hands. "I’m never going to recover from this."
++++++
"How are you doing?"
Ryland’s voice came through the intercom in your helmet.
"She fine. Question." Rocky said from somewhere in the background.
"It’s fine, Rocky. One more spot and I’m done," you replied.
You clipped yourself to the railing and moved along the Hail Mary’s hull. The damage wasn’t severe, but it needed fixing. The welder Rocky had modified worked perfectly, sealing the hull faster than expected.
Even before you left the airlock, you had to deal with Grace. He didn’t like you going out alone — it made him anxious.
"I’ll be fine," you had told him, pulling on your suit. "Eat something. Get some rest. I know what I’m doing."
"I know," he muttered, adjusting his glasses. "I just— I worry, okay? You’re— I mean, you matter. To the mission. And— just— don’t die, okay?"
"Okay," you smiled, squeezing his shoulder. "Two hours. I’ll be back."
He nodded, but it didn’t really reassure him.
"How are you doing?" he asked again now, over the intercom. "Not trying to be pushy. Rocky’s worried."
"Rocky is not worried. She knows what she is doing. Smarter than Grace."
You smiled. "A few more minutes. What if—"
The ship jolted. The welder slipped from your grip, but you caught it just in time. Another jolt.
"Something’s wrong with the engine— I think it’s a short— I’m fixing it— just— hold on— are you there? Can you hear me?"
"I am, just—"
The next pull yanked you off the railing. The tether snapped tight, then recoiled like a whip, slamming you into the hull. Your head slammed into the helmet. A dull crack echoed in your ears. The air punched out of your lungs — nothing left, just panic and silence.
"Grace! She needs help. Grace! Focus. Fix engine. Now."
You couldn’t answer. Everything spun.
"Are you there? Can you hear me? Say something— please."
"Quick, quick, quick."
Warmth spread across your lips. Metallic. Blood. Your fingers tightened around the welder pressed to your chest as another violent tug shook you. You grabbed the railing again, pain shooting through your arm.
"She there. Time critical. Grace, take her."
The buzzing in your head grew louder. Nausea rolled through you. You clung to the railing, your only anchor. Your vision dimmed.
You were lying on something soft.
"Eye movement detected."
You tried to move, but a hand caught yours. His thumb brushed over your knuckles before he let go — like he wasn’t sure he should. He pulled back a little too quickly.
"Hey. Easy."
Ryland.
You opened your eyes briefly — too bright — then shut them again.
"You had a minor concussion," he said, voice quieter now. "Some bruising. You’re okay. Medical system patched you up. You scared us."
"You came for me?" you whispered.
"Of course I did," he said immediately. "Statistically, you’re my favorite person."
"There are no other people here, Grace," Rocky pointed out.
Your lips twitched. You touched your head and felt the bandage under your fingers.
"You should lie down," Ryland said.
"You’re not that kind of doctor."
"Still counts. You’re concussed. You don’t get opinions."
You let out a weak breath that might have been a laugh. "You look tired."
"I’m not," he said quickly. "I’ll stay."
And he did.
When you woke again, hours had passed. Grace didn’t mean to fall asleep, his hand was still loosely wrapped around yours. Rocky watched over both of you.
Later, you managed to sit up. Then stand.
"I didn’t thank you," you said quietly as Ryland steadied you. "You saved me."
"You’d have done the same," he replied, watching you carefully. You scared us." He paused „You scared me."
"I’m sorry."
"Don’t be. Just— next time, you’re staying inside."
Two days later, you were moving on your own again — though neither of them let you do any real work. After you failed to complete your work outside the ship, someone had to do it. The choice wasn't difficult, or rather, you no longer had a say.
"Grace worried. Very, very, very," Rocky said.
"I know," you replied, watching Ryland on the screen outside. "He’s nice, isn’t he?"
"Grace heart rate changes when you speak."
You smiled faintly. "I like him too. And I like you too, Rocky."
"Grace observes you. Often. When you not looking."
"Rocky— stop." You felt yourself blushing and a strange shiver ran down your neck.
"Why stop? This is data."
You blinked. You looked up from the screen and looked at your friend. "What? No — we’re just friends."
"Grace looks at you differently. You look at him that way also. Grace very worried."
You glanced back at the screen, Grace still working. You knew you would have followed him without hesitation, whether his life was in danger or he suddenly decided to fly to the other side of the universe.
"It’s complicated," you said softly. "Humans are complicated."
A click.
"I’m done," Ryland’s voice came through the radio. "Heading back."
"I’m waiting for you. Be careful."
You saw the thumbs-up and smiled. You didn’t see it — the way he smiled, just for a second.
The airlock hissed open. You were already there waiting for him to help him with the suit. Ryland stepped inside, pulling off his helmet too fast, eyes finding you immediately.
"Hey," he said, a little breathless.
"Hey."
He crossed the distance without thinking. He ignored your hands that were waiting to take the helmet from him and threw it to the ground. "Don't do that again, don't go out there alone." he said quietly. "Please."
"I’ll try."
"That’s not—" he stopped, exhaled. "Okay. Fine."
His hand found yours, like it had before — but this time he didn’t hesitate.
“I thought I lost you,” he whispered. “When I came back for you… I’ll never forget it. And being there now, I kept thinking about it.”
“You didn’t lose me, Grace.”
“Yeah,” he murmured. “I didn’t.”
But he didn’t move away, not even a little. You were standing too close now. His thumb brushed over your knuckles, slower, more deliberate. The look in his eyes was different than usual.
Your lips. Your eyes. Back again. Something shifted.
"Grace. Heart rate elevated."
Neither of you reacted.
"Significant. Cause: you."
You let out a soft breath, but neither of you pulled away. Ryland leaned in, closer. Close enough that you could feel his breath, uneven and warm. He hesitated— just for a fraction of a second— like he was giving himself one last chance to stop.
"Data indicates—"
Ryland closed the distance. The kiss was soft and careful. A little unsure at first — like he wasn’t entirely convinced this was real. Then his hand tightened slightly around yours, and something in him settled, and it was real. You touched his cheek gently, feeling his soft stubble under your fingers.
"—contact established," Rocky finished.
Ryland pulled back enough to look at you. His blue eyes were wide, as if he couldn't believe what he'd just done.
"…Okay," he breathed.
A beat of your heart.
"Statistically," he added quietly, "that was a good decision."
You laughed softly, and then he smiled – gently, a little crooked, but completely sincere. And this time, when he leaned in again, he didn't hesitate.
When everything around you was so crazy and dangerous, when you lived with the feeling that the end might soon come – this closeness was what you craved. What you deserved. What you wanted to wrest from fate together.
hear me out… frank teaching dennis how to eat out reader. like ur back is on franks stomach and hes telling dennis what to do
OH MY GOD.... wet... how did I not do this one sooner
frank is actively holding your legs apart and Dennis settles between your legs. kissing your inner thighs you can feel franks hard cock on your back and youre just so sensitive from your heightened nervousness.
"alright Dennis, youre gonna flatten your tongue, nice long licks, make sure you get her clit." Dennis nodded licking his lips before licking long strips against your wet cunt. you shudder "make sure you suck on it too" frank told him. Dennis latched his lips to your little bundle of nerves swirling his tongue.
"use your fingers, c'mon, middle and ring," frank said peering over your shoulder. his hands moving to your stomach and breasts "yeah... curl em' your finding her sweet spot Dennis." you whine at his touch but youre still aching, he was too careful.
"dont be gentle, she needs more, c'mon now, make our girl feel good" frank reached a hand down between your legs shoving his head closer. and it worked, Dennis got more eager, no more soft licks against your sensitive bud, no more gentle presses against your gummy walls. he pumped his fingers curling them against the right spot. frank kept his hand on the back on Dennis' head. whinging as your nails dug into his thighs
"feeling good honey?" frank asked kissing behind your ear. you nodded back arching your face contorting with pleasure. "oh fuck!" youre gasping for air as frank pinches your nipple, rolling it between his fingers. his other hand holding your body against him.
"dont lift your head Dennis" frank said pulling your legs up so you couldn't close it on Dennis' head. you whined and cried out before finally coming your body tensed and frank told Dennis to slow down and work you through it, and he did just that. his fingers pumped slowly, and his tongue was softened it licks against your sopping wet cunt
"your boy did a good job eating this cunt huh?" frank asked you as your laid against him bit hazy. frank reaches back down pulling Dennis' hair back so he would lift his head. his chin was soaked and he licked his lips "tell Dennis he did a good job" frank commanded softly.
you looked down at Dennis "good boy" you let out breathlessly. Dennis crawled up to kiss you so you could taste yourself on his tongue as if he was boasting about how good he did,
prompt @pittkinktober. cw: mdni 18+. unprotected piv, voyeurism/exhibitionism (duh), cum eating, semipublic sex, established mohabbot, implied queer!reader, f!reader. this is the prompt/story idea that inspired my entire kinktober journey amen. pics are just for vibes.
the muffled groan followed by a hush pulled your attention away from the bathroom, further into the hallway of dana’s second floor. the door was cracked, just slightly, just enough to let some of the noise from within escape. just enough to quietly pull at the knob and peek inside. just enough to see a lithe tan leg wrapped around a thick waist—samira and jack.
samira was sat atop the dresser, eyes closed with her head thrown back against the wall mirror behind her, one arm on the tabletop for leverage, the rest of her wrapped around the man between her legs.
jack had his face buried in samira’s neck, hands gripped into her thighs, his pants pulled down below his ass to free his cock —a pare of lacy panties hanging from the back pocket.
you’d always had a crush on samira—brilliant, beautiful, and kind; who wouldn’t? and dr. abbot was just hot. when they got together, you were happy for your friend, knew they’d be good together. it was always nice to see hot people with other hot people.
maybe that’s why your body seemed to be frozen in place, peeping through the cracked door, eye darting up and down and back and forth and—
the door creaked, your hand accidentally pulling it further open. wide enough for both eyes to see though the opening, loud enough for samira’s to fly open with a start.
but when her gaze met yours, her expression changed, softened.
“jack,” she husked in his ear, still loud enough for you to hear, “we’ve got an audience.”
jack‘s head jerked away from her neck, thrusts stilling, his brows furrowed in anger. but then his face too softened, eyes meeting yours in the mirror with a smirk.
your eyes darted between theirs—jack’s intense hazel stare locked on you through the reflection; samira’s doe eyes wide on yours, brows furrowed up in pleasure as jack began to rock back into her.
you could hear them murmuring in each others ears, too low for you to hear over the blood rushing through your head—only catching moans and grunts and so wet…so big…a good show…
their gazes never left you, only you breaking the eye contact with one to catch it with the other—occasionally darting to the squelching mess where their bodies met, to jack pinching a pert nipple between thick fingers, to samira clawing nails into a firm asscheek.
“i’m close, baby,” samira panted, one hand gripping tight in jacks’s curls, the other rubbing furious circles at her clit.
jack just groaned, his fingers digging into her thighs, hips stuttering, his eyes still locked on yours. he came with a muffled growl, jaw clenched shut trying to silence his climax, cum slipping from inside samira’s hole as he fucked her through it.
yours eyes darted back to samira, her orgasm ripping a whine from her throat, her eyes fluttering to stay open, to stay locked on you. she bit her lip, failing to contain the keens jack was pulling from her, his thumb replacing her hand at her clit as he worked her through the aftershocks.
jack pulled out then, both he and samira gasping at the sensation. he moved his thumbs to her quivering lips, pulling them wide, giving you a view of his cum dripping from her pulsating hole.
there was an undeniable wetness pooling in your panties, a burning heat in your face, but still you looked, eyes locked on samira’s core.
jack again moved, thick fingers swiping at his spend and her slick, gathering it on his fingers. only when he brought the glossy digits to samira’s mouth did they both finally look away from you, back to each other. only when samira moaned, sucking their shared arousal from jack’s fingers, did your brain snap out of it, a shaky gasp escaping your lips.
you bolted from the door then, back to the barbeque outside, mind catching up to what the hell you just witnessed. samira and jack’s heads snapped back in search of you, only to find you already fled.
you stood on the outskirts of the party, beer in hand, the cold metal the only thing grounding you from floating away into your own thoughts.
suddenly, an arm threaded through yours—samira.
you looked up, mouth agape, eyes darting between hers and jack’s on her other side, ready to blurt apologies, but—
“you could have joined us back there”, samira said softly in your ear, her fingers gliding down your forearm to intertwine with yours, squeezing.
the can in your other hand was crushed slightly at the confession, the throbbing in your core returning.
jack’s hand slid from samira’s lower back over to yours, fingers dimpling into the swell of your ass. his head moved around samira’s, cheek resting at the nape of her neck, and asked,
toxic best friend!jack abbot loves ruining your dates.
(content : piv, reader implied with feminine names and appearance, daddy kink, pervy!abbot, panty stealing, jokes about him being old enough to be ur dad, hes yucky yucky yucky but yummy, lowkey cheating but its ok because its with him. google doc link with larger text at the bottom ♥.)
honestly, if you were any sort of smart, you would have told him to fuck off a loooooong time ago. even if you did, you’re sure he probably wouldn’t have listened. that’s just the type of guy he was.
he really wasn’t always like this. he was sweet. protective in the way that made your other friends joke about how he was “in love with you”. you laughed it off. then again, you weren’t dating as much as you were now.
it started with a guy from your gym. he was alright looking. not really your type but he seemed nice when he came up to you to ask for your number. you usually wouldn’t give it out to some random guy but .. it’s been awhile to say the least.
after texting every so often, he asked you out. cute little hole in the wall restaurant for lunch. you said yes .. even if it could have been planned better.
that day, jack had texted you if you wanted to hang out around lunch time. maybe check out the new coffee place by your house you said you’ve been wanting to try.
cant. big mama’s got a date😈
something about reading that created a pit in his stomach. he didn’t respond for a little bit. tried to focus on something else. he couldn’t understand what had him so upset about this. what he did understand was that he could not let this happen.
when lunchtime came, he placed his house key on his kitchen table, walked outside and shut the door. he pulled his phone out, hitting your phone number.
“jack?” you answer after the first ring.
“hey, sugar,” he says in the most fake sincere voice. “i’m sorry, i know you’re on a date. i just locked myself out. robby’s on, you’re the only other person who’s got one. anyway you can come here?”
he hears you sigh, a small malicious smile growing on his face knowing he’s got you.
“..you can’t just like.. walk around a bit until i’m done?”
“i would but i left the stove on. i’m sorry.”
he wasn’t sorry.
when you showed up, he couldn’t help but eye you up and down. you were wearing some cute casual dress that your tits were nearly pooling out of. he quickly fixed his face, giving you a smile.
“you look nice. sorry i had to steal ya.”
you shrug, pulling his spare key out of your bag and unlocking his door. “eh. he was kinda boring anyways. jobless. mama’s boy. you kinda saved me.”
jack laughed, having a bit of a smug look on his face. he liked the sound of that. jack abbot. your savior.
“i thought you said the stove was on?” he hears you say which makes his head snap up. whoops. his mistake !
this became the norm. whenever you had a date, it was like clockwork. popped tire, lost his wallet, forgot his lucky stethoscope at home.
it was so fucking annoying on your end, but on his side, he got to see your pretty little grumpy face that you dolled up for some other guy.
and as time passed, he started to creep even himself out.
when you two sat on the couch together to watch a movie, he covered you two in the same blanket, letting you lean into him. when you left your phone behind to use the bathroom, he checked it. deleted other guys’ numbers and texts. stalked your instagram dms. blocked whoever he didn’t like. acted stupid when you pointed it out.
he really scared himself once he started stealing your panties. it was only one at first. really quick. snatched it up and shoved it into his pocket before you could even blink. he didn’t even realize what he was doing until he did it.
when he got home he felt disgusting about it. took it out and placed it on his bed. paced around a bit. he felt even worse about it once he wrapped the fabric around his cock and started moaning your name.
he was a dirty old man. what kind of guy is best friends with a girl so much younger than him? what kind of guy steals her panties and dirties them with his load?
it all came to a peak when he sat on your bed, watching you get ready for some sleazebag who asked you out right in front of him. practically ignored him. probably thought he was your dad.
he couldn’t control himself! when you spun around in that tiny little dress of yours, asked how you looked, it was like a reflex. grabbed your hips from behind, squeezing the fatty part he found.
the sick part of him reveled in the way you jumped and squealed at the touch. but you didn’t push him away. even when he pushed you over your bed, pressing his hips against your ass.
“fuckin’ stupid- fuck-“ jack slurs out with every snap of his hips. “gooood, you’re so fuckin’ tightttt- oh my god..”
your mascara was starting to smear from your face being pushed into the mattress. he didn’t even have the curtesy or patience to take your dress off. just pushed your panties to the side and pushed his mushroom tip riiiiiiight in.
“bet he’s outside waiting..” he moaned, his hand hitting your ass cheek with a smack. “thought i was your dad- fuck.. fuck, that jackass.. wonder if he’ll see through the window.. mm, yeah, you’d like that? your boy toy watchin’ pops fuck you deep? ahh- mhm.. yeah, baby.. lemme hear it..”
you whine, pushing yourself back into him. talk about willpower. you should have slapped him away minutes ago. inside, you were waiting for this.
“mm.. daddy, ah- please, please don’t stop…”
“don’t worry, baby.. daddy’s right here.. your old man’s got you, ‘kay? good girl..”
once he spilled his seed right in your messy pussy, he stuck his fingers in to keep any of it from coming out. made sure to plug it in nice and deep. he straightened your panties out, stuffing them a big into the hole, soaking them with the nice little combination.
the knock rung at the front door, only him being able to perceive it. he helps you up, swiping his thumbs under your eyes to fix up your makeup. your eyes were all loopy, legs shakey. looked like you were high.
“your little boyfriend’s outside babygirl,” he hums, squishing your cheeks between his hands and placing a fat kiss on your lips. “don’t wanna keep him waiting huh?”
he waits to see your head nod. took a minute to comprehend what he even said.
with a little smack on your ass, he sends you off, chuckling a little to himself as you stumble with your pretty heels on.
“hey, and tell him your pops said hi.”
(google doc link)
a/n: not proofread sooooorrrryyy. love this sleazy old man. ask for more nd u shall recieve.
come on! they’re all big, round, slightly sad. it’s a potent mixture for him to be treated as innocent and have a slight edge on coworkers. his eyes are rich, coated in apparent innocence…he always does everything right (he tries his best!).
fast forward, you’re in a position where he finally has a place to live in, to eat, to breathe—and it is showing. but you know what is still the same? his eyes. still big, still doe, eyeing someone with such innocence as if he’s naïve.
he’s anything but that.
those big eyes which makes him seem so pure to the world is a lie. you know it is, you’ve witnessed it. he is a liar.
you’re sat on his cock, slightly shaking and breathing after the heavy orgasm he pulled from you. his hands rest on your hips, gently massaging your soft skin, grounding you right back to the start.
as your eyes are still closed, he leans up, gently nuzzling his head into your neck. he pants into your shoulder, his hands on your hips becoming more firm. resolute.
“babe,” his head gently pushes yours, pushing your head up to look at him.
you give an owl blink, chest still slightly rising. he can still see your chest, nipples still slightly pebbled from all of the sucking he did. his dick is still hard.
“another?” he asks, eyes locking back onto yours intensely.
your eyebrows furrow, slightly squirming. “…i mean…i just came, den—“
“please?” his big eyes melt, gleaming under the bedroom light like a needy puppy. you should always spoil puppies, shouldn’t you?
you try not to let his eyes get you—you do still want more, heat coursing through your insides. but, still. he can’t win.
…after ten seconds, you’re defeated in the gaze of his eyes. you sigh in slight defeat, flushed, hands slowly placed back on his chest, moving up and down his chest and to his neck.
bingo.
“you’re so good to me, baby.” he moans quietly, raising you up on his cock, dropping you back down. his hands become more grabby, pulling your hips back onto him and he raises you up and down, and back again.
but—you’re already back to moaning. your head is thrown back, hands resting on his chest as if it gives you leverage. you look so beautiful.
…and, well, he thinks you should cum again after this time. he has to revel in your presence, your beauty. he can’t just do that in one round. not at all.
it’s decided. he doesn’t even have to worry—he’ll know you’ll comply. its the eyes! it works every-time.
PLEEEAAAASE mama let me get more langdon x Mel x reader IM BEGGING
✉️ wow I love being bisexual & having the urge to slut myself out to the pitt characters <3 (btw, I'm not hopping off my lesbian Mel agenda don't fret)
demure! threesome/poly activities but nothing's established, vv ambiguous w the relationship but I do picture lesbian Mel & divorced Langdon, oral (m!receiving, f!receiving), face fucking, mentions of gag reflexes, fingering (f!receiving), p in v unprotected sex, creampies, so much public sex, exhibitionism, clit play, free use, Langdon is kind of mean?, questionable consent, finger sucking, implications that reader is younger, Langdon calls reader 'kid', they're both obsessed <3, nurse reader, not proofread wc 1.5k 18+ MEN & MDNI
okay… walk with me…
Thinking about being Langdon’s go-to nurse. He says he doesn’t pick favorites. That anything like that would: “affect patient care too much,” (as if he’s not just trying to earn scraps of Robby’s approval by leaning into the whole team player thing), but he definitely does pick and choose when it comes to you. Partly because you’re smart. Partly because you’re pretty. Part of him likes that you’re young, one that he doesn’t like to lean into. Mostly, he just claims that you’re always there. Right place and time. As if he’s not waving a hand to you across the central nurse’s station when a new trauma rolls in or deliberately watching to see which bays you enter and exit to take vitals. No, it's the right place and time.
Right place and time when things get to be too much. Too many people looking for him, and too much being demanded, and he has too much energy, and he knows altogether he could crash and snap any second. He just needs to get his mind off things, and you just happen to be in the break room, having found a spare moment to eat half of a breakfast bar. You offer him one, blueberry and lemon, and he can’t even remember if he says anything in response as he rounds just a bit behind the chair you’re sitting in. Langdon will forever remember how soft your skin felt against his palm as he gripped your jaw, tilted your head back to press against his stomach and forced two fingers from his other hand down your throat.
Wanting to see if you would let him do whatever he pleased. Testing how rough he could be. See if you would gag.
And you let him do a lot.
Because that interaction ends with you under the break room table, knees sore against the tile as he sits in the chair you were just in and fucks your mouth. Good stress relief, the way you drool around him and blink up at him with teary eyes. Langdon struggles to stay quiet, his own eyes squeezing shut every now and then as he tilts his head back when you manage to suck his cock softly. Every time he pushes your head down until you frantically tap at his thigh to signal it’s too much. He lets it pass this first time, cause, well, it’s the first time this is happening, but it’s something you’ll have to work on later. Cause your throat feels so warm, and you're just letting yourself be used so abruptly that Langdon's convinced that you must’ve been thinking about this. That you must've always wanted this. The idea has him panting against his free hand as he cums, fisting your hair to keep you where he wants as he rides out his high.
He’s sweet after–helping you up and fixing your hair for you. Feeding you that second breakfast bar and getting some water down your sore throat with soft praises being murmured. “Knew you’d do anything to be my favorite, yeah? Don’t have to do much, kid, ‘Ve always liked you.” He leaves you at the table with a drag of his thumb against the seam of your mouth, returning to work and spiraling through the ER as if nothing had happened.
The next time it happens, he’s fucking you in an empty trauma bay room. Neither of you gets to finish cause Langdon sees McKay walk by. He makes up for it by fingering you under the counter when you sit next to him while charting a few days later. The first time he cums inside of you, it’s in one of the on-call rooms after a particularly hard shift. He’d said he needed to get off before having to go home. Needed to see your face and remember what it sounded like when you’re trying to be quiet when he makes you feel good. You take the bus back to your apartment with his release leaking out of you, a dirty secret that turns you on beyond belief as it soaks into your panties.
It becomes a thing for the both of you. Langdon searches you out when things get too much. You like it, gives you something to be distracted over in part-time hell that is the Pitt, and he likes you.
Enter: Mel King.
She and Langdon hit it off right away. He listens to her, supports her, and recognizes her little tells that not many others would pick up on. She trusts him quite easily. Thinks he’s funny and easy to talk to, but what she notices more is that you’re close to him. And she doesn’t exactly hit it off with you, but it’s not your fault. It’s hers. Because, wow, she’s never met someone like you in her life, and it drives her crazy that you’re so doting over her–making sure she’s adjusting well and having someone to talk to and having a life outside of the hospital (she doesn’t, unless you count downloading Instagram for the first time to stalk your account). It makes her trip over her words and get all red and awkward, but you never act like it. You just smile at her, giggle in a way that even she can tell is not poking fun, but has a certain kind of fondness to it.
So, she has a crush on the pretty, young nurse. Big deal.
But she’s friends with Langdon, and she notices how close you and Langdon are.
And what kind of a friend and mentor would Langdon be if he didn’t let his new favorite resident in on the secret that was his favorite form of stress relief in those pesky, overwhelming moments?
The first time, he just lets her watch when he asks you to get medication for him. He gestures for Mel to come along too, and when he positions her to stand between you and the doorway, her mouth almost drops at how easily you let him tuck his hands into your scrub bottoms to play with your clit while you fumble with your badge. Mel’s all wide-eyed, line of vision never leaving your face as you let out a tiny gasp that she’ll be thinking about in her shower later that night. How big Langdon’s hand looks over your mouth as he keeps you quiet while you cum against the pads of his fingers. How you taste when Langdon pushes those two fingers into her mouth briefly.
“Use her if y’want, she’s not very good at staying quiet, though.”
After that, it doesn’t take Mel much longer to take after Langdon. She’s surprisingly more strict than him. He loves the thrill, but he’s honestly sweet. Rough in the moment and condescending, but you can tell he cares. Mel gets desperate, and there are times you can tell she’s taking a moment to get her head between your thighs cause she’s overstimulated, but you notice that it’s almost always more focused on you rather than her. Langdon likes you, but you think Mel might be in love with you. You, or your pussy.
Cause she’s taking advantage of you multiple times a week.
Grinding against your thigh and slotting one of hers between yours in the stall of the women’s bathroom. Kissing at the corner of your jaw any moment the two of you are alone. Dragging the curtain of a trauma bay shut to get you off with her fingers. Mumbling a little: “One taste– Always makes me feel better, please–” even as her fingers are already undoing your scrub bottoms. She’s insatiable. You can hardly walk past her without her trailing after you like a puppy dog. Like she picks up one whiff of your perfume and suddenly forgets whatever task she was doing. And she expects you to drop whatever it is you’re doing for her, too. Cause you do it for Langdon, so you should do it for her too.
It’s most fun when they’re together, though.
When Langdon fucks you, keeping one hand on your arm to guide you gently, doing quite a bit of work to keep you steady as he passes you off to Mel in the hallway so she can eat you out where you’re still dripping with his cum. Bounding up to them when they’re huddled around a counter to listen in on whatever they’re talking about, but it’s just them trying to figure out when they’re both gonna be free to fuck you that day <3 Hiding in a supply closet to jerk him off while Mel fingers you from behind <3 Making her kiss him just to see Langdon get excited from tasting you on her tongue <3 Sending them an explicit photo to see who gets to you first <3 Just a girl having fun <3
You don’t know how they manage to get any work done, but it’s not your concern. Probably should start seeing them outside of the PTMC, cause they’re friends, but they obviously trip over themselves to please you, and it’s just so addictive… Yum.
You, robby and jack are best friends, best friends who kiss each on the lips, who puts their hands on your thighs when you're sitting next to each other. Best friends who sleep in the same bed with you in the middle in nothing but a cami and panties. Best friends who give each other hickies. You sit on their laps in cars (even though theres loads of space) with their hands underneath your skirt because you're best friends. Best friends who grind on each other in their sleep. Your best friends who have their hands up your shirt when you're watching movies. You're best friends.....
(you already know how I feel jfc) I may or may not have gone temporarily insane with lust, it's fine
perv!Rabbot x naive!reader goodness
reader is a too naive and gentle and these two fuckers are gross and I love them | mdni +18
You don't think about it too much when Robby offers you his spare bedroom after your lease is up. He insists on it, actually. Why spend so much money on a stupid studio when you can come live with him in his three bedroom condo for free?
You rationalize it. He says it's to help you save money, who are you to question it?
You also don't question when Jack volunteers his truck to help you with the move. You've filled it to the brim with boxes and bags, so much so that there's only one available seat for both you and Robby.
He settles in first, quickly grabbing you by the waist and pulling you to sit down over his lap. You shift briefly, adjusting yourself as something hard presses against you but you honestly don't mind. The drive is short anyways, you don't want to make Robby uncomfortable.
Robby turns slightly to pull at the seatbelt when he notices there's no room to click it into place. So instead his arms wrap around your middle, settling absentmindedly over your lap.
Something down there clenches at the touch, practically burning through your workout shorts as he presses down, holding you tight against him.
"Gonna have to hold onto you while we get there," he grumbles against your temple. "You okay with that?"
You hum sharply, not daring to move. You simply cannot be getting worked up over this. It's Robby you're talking about, sweet, caring, friendly Robby.
You will not make this awkward.
And you definitely do not catch the look Jack gives his friend through the rearview mirror as the truck starts moving.
You can't stop complaining as you sit on Robby's couch.
"I just don't understand why our taxes aren't going to important things like fixing all those potholes!" you flail your arms in emphasis. "I mean, one or two is fine, but eight? I can't even imagine someone trying to drive with a car lower to the ground."
Robby chuckles, handing you a beer as he joins you and Jack on the couch, squishing you against the two of them. You'd been comfortably sitting with your legs crossed, but the second that Robby settles, you make room for him, throwing your leg over Jack's and propping the other over Robby's.
"It's just crazy."
Crazy for you maybe. Not Jack who made sure to hit every single bump he could find, almost getting into a couple accidents as he kept glancing back in the rearview to catch your blissful expression as you bounced against Robby's obvious erection, the older man shamelessly pressing you down against him every single time.
Robby makes it a point to not set up your bed yet.
There's room on his massive kingsize, you can just sleep with him tonight. And well, look at the time, it's too late for Jack to go home anyway, especially not after spending dinner drinking, that would be irresponsible.
So while they insist you go shower while they clean up, Jack makes it a point to...misplace the boxes with your clothes. It's fine, they're just in the pantry.
You walk out in a towel, tightly wrapped around your body, a little tipsy from the beers and wine, happy to be starting a new chapter in your life with the two people you consider your closest friends.
You try to look for your clothes, you swear, but all you can find is a pair of tiny, lacy panties that you honestly forgot you had, mixed in with your winter clothes.
You grab them, walking into Robby's bedroom like you own the place, because you do, and rummage through his closet in search of a shirt you can wear.
You drop the towel as you can hear Jack in the living room and Robby in his own shower so you know you're alone. You quickly put on your panties, bending over and showing both men, who have strategically moved into the bedroom, the roundness of your ass and just the tiniest sliver of your pussy before you cover it all up with one of Robby's undershirts.
When you turn back around, they're no longer there.
You find yourself in bed a little later, Robby to your right, back propped up against the headboard, thick glasses handing off his nose as he checks something on his phone.
Behind you, Jack has already started “snoring”, putting on a show for you to let your guard down. One hand flops over your hip, casual and unassuming. You don’t flinch, don’t kick him off, you simply say goodnight to Robby and close your eyes.
It’s half an hour later, while you’re stuck in that weird in between awake and asleep fuzzy space that you start to feel it.
Behind you, Jack has pressed himself against your ass, his hips slowly rocking back and forth. You’re too tired to register it fully, losing yourself to the feeling of his hardness seeking your warmth.
You hum, back arching slightly to give him better access.
In front of you, Robby chuckles softly, adjusting himself so that his own crotch bumps into the tip of your nose.
“Robby?” You murmur, still pretty out of it, hand reaching forward to put some space between you and accidentally grazing his cock.
“Shhh, it’s okay honey,” he coos. “Just go back to sleep.”
You try to listen to him, but just as your eyes fall shut once more, Jack pulls his cock out from his boxers and slides it in between your legs.
The hotness radiating from him is enough to pull you away from slumber a little more as you begin to feel the roughness of your panties pressing against your wetness.
You groan, cheeks heating up at how pathetic you must seem to them, how uncomfortable you’re clearly making them. So you pretend to still be asleep. It’s not your fault they’re making you feel so good, if you’re not awake to witness it then it doesn’t count.
Before you know it, Jack's hardness is rutting swiftly against your soaked folds, his hisses and groans the only indication that you weren't going crazy and having a vivd dream.
Poor Jackie, he must be so far gone that he doesn't even realize he's doing it and who are you to judge your friend for that? For wanting to feel wanted?
You don't get time to process as you feel Robby's own leaking tip rock against your mouth. You don't even think, your lips parting on their own as your tongue sticks out to suck on it.
A jolt of electricity courses through Robby's entire body as he realizes you're actually rocking yourself to sleep while sucking him off, the gentle rocking movements actually calming you down and sending you back into a dreamy state.
The two men make eye contact then, identical devilish smirks all over their faces.
I need to be put in the most precarious dubiously disgusting happenstance........ I need that... Need to see what those man sluts are capable of.....BEAUTIFUL WORK
I can’t stress enough how obsessed I am his BEEFY ARMS and the FARMERS TAN and those NECK WRINKLES and the FRECKLES omg what if I just took a chomp out of those BICEPS what then
Summary: Day 1: Medical Exam; reader gets more than she bargained for. Robby x Reader x Jack
Warnings: MDNI!! Medical kink!!!! For my medical kink girles (🙋♀️) dubcon elements, medical procedures (kinda), overstimulation, restraints, age gap, power imbalance, throat fucking, crying, piv, reader is lowkey a lil crazy, you guys get it.
wc: 3k
A/N: Baby's first smut! Thank you @pittkinktober for the prompts! Divider by @/thecutestgrotto
This was the third time in the last three months you’d weaseled your way into the ER at PTMC. Not because you were sick or injured- but because you wanted to see him.
The infatuation started four months ago, when you brought your sister to the ER for stitches. You both waited over five hours to be seen, but when he walked in the room it all felt worth it. He introduced himself as Dr. Robby, then washed his hands and snapped on gloves- two things you’d never found sexy until that moment. You watched as he stitched your sister’s arm with precision, and suddenly you felt the urge to harm yourself just so he’d touch you too.
Perhaps that would be too far.
But the weeks went on and you couldn’t get him out of your head. His broad shoulders and scruffy beard nestled their way into your thoughts until it became too much to bear, and you needed to see him again.
The first time you returned to PTMC, you almost left before checking in. What am I doing? You thought, suddenly feeling insane. But then, like magic, he walked right past you and into the ED to clock in for his shift. You put yourself back in line, and wrote headache on the intake form. You waited six hours only to be seen by someone else and discharged with a diagnosis of a bad migraine.
The second time, a month later, you tried chest pains. That got you back quicker initially, but also left you stuck in the waiting area far longer in between tests. You didn’t even catch a glimpse of him that time.
The third time, today, you decided on a stomachache. It had become something of a game to you now that your initial shame and fear had worn off- what would get you back the quickest, what was the best time to come— just exactly how many times did you need to visit this goddamned hospital before that gorgeous man would put his hands on you?
The blonde nurse lead you back to an exam room and asked you to change into a gown. You suspected she knew something was up, but you doubted she knew the extent.
You changed, sat on the exam table, and waited.
And waited.
Until, finally, a soft knock and the door opened.
Your breath hitched and your heart leapt into your throat. It was him.
“Hello, I’m Dr. Robinavitch, or Dr. Robby, whichever you prefer,” he sat down on a rolling stool in front of you. “What’s been going on?”
For a moment you panicked. Fireworks danced behind your eyes- you didn’t think you’d actually get this far.
“Uh— stomachache. Can’t kick it.” You stammered out.
“Any nausea, vomiting?” He asked, standing up.
You shook your head as he pulled the stethoscope from around his neck and placed the buds in his ears. After months of plotting and planning, suddenly everything was happening so fast.
“No.” You squeaked out, as he placed the bell of the stethoscope under your gown and on your bare chest. Your heart was hammering.
He raised his eyebrows. “You okay? Nervous?”
You sucked in a breath and nodded.
“S’okay. No reason to be,” he put the stethoscope back around his neck and kneaded your belly with his hands. You squeezed your eyes shut to stop them from rolling back into your head.
“Any pain when I do this?” He asked, keeping his eyes tracked on your face.
You couldn’t look at him as you lied, “mhm. Some.”
He hummed to himself then sat back down on the stool, grabbing the tablet that held your chart information. He pulled a pair of reading glasses out of his pocket and put them on.
“You’ve been in to see us a few times recently…” he lowered his glasses to the tip of his nose, looking up at you. You could swear there was accusation in his glance. You felt yourself shrink lower on the table. What a foolish and, frankly, crazy thing you’d done.
“I’m a little worried there may be something more going on. I’d like to do a pelvic exam to be sure.” He took off his glasses and returned them to his pocket.
For a moment you swore you blacked out. This was far more than you bargained for. Never in a million years did you think you would end up here. You should quit while you were ahead, what a mess this would be. You couldn’t stay. You would decline.
“I can have a female provider take over if you’d like?” He asked, crossing his arms.
“No!” You blurted out, finally meeting his gaze, making your choice. You felt your face redden. “I just want to get this over with.”
The smallest hint of a smirk crossed his lips, “Of course. I’ll give you a moment to change and I’ll be back.”
The door clicked shut behind him and you started hyperventilating. Oh god, oh fuck, what is wrong with me?
Of course, you didn’t need to change because you were already completely nude under the gown, but you took the free moment to step off the table and do a lap around the room. Hesitantly, you reached down between your legs. Soaked.
Great. Now he’ll know you’re a freak. You ripped a few paper towels from the dispenser and furiously attempted to wipe it away. Calm down. We got this.
Far too quickly, his soft knock came at the door and you scrambled back for the table. You were sitting pretty with your ankles crossed when he came back in, wheeling in a covered tray.
“Ready?” He asked, shutting the door behind him.
“Mhm.” Absolutely not.
He washed his hands, then wheeled the stool to the front of the table. He freed the stirrups, then guided your feet into each.
“Scoot down for me,” he commanded. You did.
The table was angled up, so you could see everything he was doing. He pulled a pair of gloves from the wall and snapped them on, bringing you back to that first moment months ago.
“Alright, relax for me,” he soothed. “You’re going to feel me touch you now.”
You bit your lip as hard as you could to attempt to distract yourself. Slowly, you felt his finger enter you. Without a moment to adjust, he added another. You gripped the side of the table, hoping he didn’t notice. He brought his other hand up to push on your ovaries, feeling for abnormalities.
“How does this feel?”
You didn’t dare let any sound escape your lips, so you nodded and hummed in approval.
“How about this?” He moved his hand to the other side of your abdomen. You stared at the ceiling and ‘mhmm’d’ again.
“This?” Suddenly his fingers curled upward, finding that sweet spot. His thumb stroked your clit twice, so quickly you might not have even noticed had you not been so on edge. You couldn’t help it anymore, your body twitched and a gasp left your lungs. His hands kept their contact, and you finally met his eyes.
He stared back, one eyebrow raised. His expression didn’t signal to you that what he did was anything but normal. “Any pain there?”
You stared back, dumbfounded. Were you so hypersensitive that you imagined it? You shook your head. “It’s okay.”
He nodded then removed his hands. You released a big breath, relieved it was over.
He fiddled with the tray, then produced a speculum that was a size you’d never seen before. You didn’t know who could possibly need a speculum that large, but it certainly wasn’t you. Your eyes darted from the tool in his hands, back up to his face multiple times.
“I’m going to need to look with the speculum now,” he said tenderly, offering a small smile. “I’ll be gentle.”
You laid your head back on the table, sucking in air and squeezing your eyes shut. This was the dumbest thing you’d ever done.
“Okay, deep breath,” he slid the instrument in and you did as you were told. It was so much bigger than you could’ve imagined.
An “Oh” escaped your lips as he began to click it open, spreading you as wide as you could go. It felt impossibly tight, you were stretched to your brim. The thought briefly crossed your mind that you didn’t even see him apply lubricant.
“Good.” He whispered as he peered at your most private area.
Suddenly he rolled his chair away from you and snapped off his gloves. You looked up in shock as he moved to the door. You remained on his table, legs open, cunt gaping, and he was leaving?
“I think it would be best if I got a second opinion. I’m worried this might be a bit more serious than originally thought. Sit tight.” he smiled reassuringly as your jaw dropped in horror.
You fidgeted on the table, trying to get even remotely comfortable. What the fuck!! Even if you wanted to get dressed and run out of there as fast as possible, you didn’t know how to get this thing out of you without hurting yourself. This was perhaps the most embarrassing day of your life.
There was no knock this time as Dr. Robby re-entered the room, followed by another man. He was older, with graying curls and a handsome face.
“This is Dr. Abbot, I’d like for him to take a look as well,” Dr. Robby explained. He sat back on the stool in front of your exposed, dripping pussy. “Patient is late 20s, chief complaint was stomach pain, but during the pelvic I noticed something interesting.”
Dr. Abbot bent to Dr. Robby’s level, taking you in. “Yeah, I think I can see the problem as well.”
Dr. Robby eyed you as he snapped on another pair of gloves. Without warning he returned his thumb to your clit and started rubbing slowly. “She’s absolutely drenched.”
A shock ran through you, leaving you dazed.
“What course of treatment would you recommend, Dr. Robinavitch?” Dr. Abbot asked, applying his own pair of gloves.
“Oh, well,” Dr. Robby started, continuing his ministrations on your clit. “I’d like to see how she reacts to further stimulation before making any conclusions.”
You came back to your senses. This was wrong on so many levels. You had to put a stop to it. But fuck if you didn’t want him to keep going.
“Um-“ you began your obligatory protest.
Dr. Abbot was at your head, running his fingers through your hair. “Don’t worry, sweetheart, Dr. Robinavitch and I are going to take very good care of you.”
You couldn’t ignore the lurking pressure growing in your core. You squirmed once more, for good measure, “But-“
Dr. Robby put a reassuring hand on your thigh, “Just relax.”
Finally, you did. You allowed yourself a deep breath. This was happening.
“Good girl.” He finally removed the speculum from between your legs and returned it to the tray. You gasped at the sudden emptiness, but it was soon replaced by two of his fingers. He worked them in and out increasingly faster, continuing his work on your clit. The pressure was becoming impossible to ignore.
Dr. Abbot slipped your arms out of your gown and lowered it past your breasts. He put his stethoscope over your heart while the other hand roughly kneaded your breast. “Her heart rate is elevated Dr. Robinavitch I think she’s close.”
“Of course she is,” Dr. Robby said as he continued his assault on your clit. You were so wound up, the tension in your lower belly seconds from snapping.
“Come for your doctors,” was all it took.
You spasmed on his hand, your orgasm washing over you. For a moment you couldn’t breathe. Equal parts shame and pleasure clouded your mind as Dr. Robby removed his hands, such that you didn’t notice when Dr. Abbot took his place.
You jerked away from his touch, your oversensitive clit throbbing. Instinctively you reached your hands down to stop him, but he wrapped both in his free hand in an iron grip.
“Ohoho, we’re not done with our exam yet sweetheart.” Dr. Robby said, now by your side. He held his gloved fingers to your lips. “Open.”
Reluctantly you did, and he jammed his fingers down your throat, making you gag.
“Atta girl, take my fingers,” he said as he fucked your throat with his hand. The sensation was overwhelming, combined with Dr. Abbot’s incessant fingering of your sore cunt. You tried squirming away again, attempting anything to find relief.
“Dr. Robinavitch, I’m a bit worried our patient can’t sit still,” he chastised.
Dr. Robby wiped his hands on your breasts and sighed, stepping away from the table. He moved across the room to rustle through the supply cabinet. “I’m not sure why,” he said, disappointment in his voice. He returned to your side and removed your wrists from Dr. Abbot’s grip, only to secure them by your sides in soft restraints. “Considering this is what she wanted all along.”
He looked down at you with his naturally sad brown eyes, then brought a hand to cup the side of your face. He stroked your cheek with his thumb. “Isn’t that right?”
You couldn’t think straight, not now with your arms restrained and Dr. Abbot finger fucking you with increasing force and speed. You squeezed your eyes shut, unable to meet his gaze.
He moved his hand to grip your jaw, angling it in his direction, “Look at me.”
Reluctantly you did. His stare was resolute. “This is the reason you’ve been coming to my ER for months, isn’t it? Because you want my colleague and I to take care of you? You need us to make you better?”
Your brain couldn’t process quick enough to speak, only nod. The inescapable pressure was building again in your core.
He gripped your jaw tighter, “Use your words.”
“Yes,” you croaked out between rapid breaths.
He clicked his tongue and leaned down to whisper in your ear, “Yes, doctor.”
Your second orgasm rippled through you, pleasure reaching every corner of your body. Dr. Robby covered your mouth to muffle the inescapable cry you let out.
“Jesus Christ,” Dr. Abbot whispered in awe, finally removing his hands from your aching pussy. Your body trembled, breathing ragged. Tears sprung in the corner of your eyes.
Dr. Robby rubbed the top of your head, soothing, “That’s it. That’s a good girl.” He swiped his thumb at one of the tears rolling down your cheek. “We think you’re very sick. Are you ready to let us make you better?”
You nodded weakly, whispering, “Yes, doctor.”
His face softened, pleased. He turned to Dr. Abbot, now all business, and they shared a mutual nod. He lowered the head of the table so you were level with his waist. He gently turned your head to the side, facing you toward Dr. Abbot’s now exposed hard cock.
“Open wide for Dr. Abbot,” He coaxed. You did, taking him in. Robby held your head still, caressing your cheek while Abbot moved his cock in and out of your mouth, whispering little praises all the while. With a groan, he pushed himself all the way in, hitting the back of your throat. You choked, struggling to hold him all in. “Gotta fill you up, honey.”
He pulled back, allowing you a choking, sputtering breath. Robby kept your head firmly in place, and Abbot thrusted into the back of your throat one, two, three more times before shooting out a warm salty liquid onto your tongue.
“Swallow,” Dr. Robby commanded, and you did. Abbot withdrew from your mouth and you coughed, gasping for air. Dr. Robby was at the foot of the table looking at you, proud of his work- a sputtering mess who was impossibly still dripping wet.
A small whine formed in your throat and you caught his eye, whispering “You.”
He cocked his head and watched you struggle against your restraints, thrusting your hips up toward him.
“Please,” you whined again, wriggling on the table. “Please Dr. Robby, please, please, you. I want you, I need you.”
Your whimpering became faster and less coherent. He was right- this was the reason you’ve been coming to his ER for months and you weren’t leaving without it. You were sick, and he was the cure.
“Shh sh sh,” he soothed, stepping between your spread legs. He freed his hard cock from his pants and thank god It was huge.
“Deep breath honey,” and in one motion he entered you.
Relief.
You’d never felt more full and more complete. He rocked into you with purpose. You couldn’t take your eyes off him, his own pleasure intoxicating.
“Such a pretty thing, taking me so well,” he splayed his huge hand over your abdomen, pushing down to feel himself. “Such a good little patient.”
He returned his thumb to your clit, other hand gripping your thigh hard enough to leave bruises. “You got one more in you?”
“Yes doctor, yes, yes,” you babbled, wishing so badly you could touch him. He picked up the pace with both his thrusts and hand, the fire in your lower belly growing. You writhed on the table under him, waiting for the explosion to ensue. You freed your heels from the stirrups and wrapped your legs around his waist, desperate to be as close as possible. You spied Dr. Abbot in the corner watching with a sly smirk, sending your third orgasm crashing through you. Robby moved his hands to your hips, gripping hard as he slammed into you, his own orgasm finally erupting.
After a beat, he finally pulled out of you, stuffing himself back in his pants. You shuddered at the emptiness. He released your wrists from the restraints and helped you sit upright.
“Dr. Abbot and I recommend you return for a follow up in a couple weeks. Hope you feel better soon, Miss.”
As if nothing had happened, the two left the room.
robby being granted the opportunity to watch jack fuck his spouse (gn!reader)
(as requested)
*****
It's hard to focus. Not just because of the way Jack's cock feels as you ride him, but the way Robby, sitting in the chair right in the corner of the room, is staring at you. He's behind you, so watching him fist his cock is an effort in and of itself, having to twist your torso around just to get a look. It somehow makes it worse, knowing how much of an effort you're making just to catch a glimpse of his flushed cheeks.
''Jack," you whine. "He looks so sad..."
From the chair, Robby lets out a strangled moan, and the slick noises pick up. His lips are parted now, tongue nearly hanging out as his face contorts in ecstasy.
"Should we..." You trail off, biting your lip.
Your husband grabs you by the back of your neck, pulling you down so you're face-to-face. "Should we what, sweetheart?" Jack asks, low enough that only you can hear it. "Say it."
Jack's gazing at you through lidded eyes. He already knows what you're saying, but he just wants to hear you say it, see how shy you get when you ask it. You and Jack discussed it before tonight, before you even invited Robby to watch you.
"Should we let him join? Let him fuck me?"
Immediately, you hear a whimper from the corner of the room. Jack laughs beneath you, his eyes sliding behind you as he smirks. You slow your bouncing, sitting back up so you can get a proper look at Robby.
Robby's cock, an angry red at the tip, is spurting ropes of cum. He's silent through his orgasm, mouth parted in bliss as he paints his own stomach and torso. As his orgasm wanes, Robby collapses back into the chair. His cock lays uselessly on his thigh.
"It might be too late for that, don't you think?"
At that, Robby jumps back to life.
"Please," Robby begs, "Please I can get it up again!"
"Can you?" Jack teases, punctuating the question with a thrust of his hips that has you whimpering a lot like Robby, who's started fisting his soft cock again. As Robby gasps and groans, Jack goads, "Because it looks like you're out of commission there, brother."
"Uh," Robby locks eyes with you. He looks half-crazed as he blurts, "You can sit on my face! Once Jack's done! Please..."
The desperation in his tone alone might just be enough to make you come.
"How does that sound, sweetheart?" Jack asks, slapping your ass lightly. "You want Robby to clean you up? Get my sloppy seconds?"
"Just—" Robby pulls away from Jack's spit-slick, kissed-red mouth, breathing hard. "I'm not, uh, gay. You know that, right?"
Jack just laughs, intent on tugging Robby right back to his mouth where he belongs. Before he can slip his tongue back inside that perfect mouth Robby stops him, a gentle but firm hand on his chest. "Brother, wh..?"
The look on Robby's fucking face. Like a guilty, kicked dog. "...You're serious?" Jack scoffs, disbelieving.
"No.. judgement, or whatever, I'm just not," Robby mumbles, looking anywhere but Jack's eyes.
The very notion is fucking absurd. Jack knows it, and he's pretty sure Robby has got to. He squishes Robby's cheeks, forcing his eyes back to his. "This? This is pretty fucking gay, Mike," He snorts, gesturing down at how he's straddling Robby's lap.
He grinds down, right on the twitching bulge in Robby's pants until he lets out a strained groan. "That's pretty fucking gay, too."
"It's.. not the same," Robby protests weakly, words a little mushy, Jack's hand still tight on his jaw, still squishing his cheeks. "Just a— natural response. To. Stimulation."
"Oh, let me guess, a hole's a hole? You wanna fuck me cause anything works, yeah?"
"I wouldn't.. say it like that," Robby manages, bright red.
Jack promptly slides off of Robby's lap, padding to the kitchen in their shared apartment— who can afford to live without a roommate, anyways?— without a care in the world. He opens the fridge to grab a can of Coors, leaning against the counter as he cracks it open.
"What— wait, Jack, what the fuck?" Robby whines, sounding so pitiful Jack has to hide his grin with a sip of beer.
"Oh, I don't fuck straight guys," Jack tells him, smug, slurping obnoxiously at his drink. It's a thing he prides himself in, his ability to be... well, a little shit.
Robby just stares, beautifully flushed, and Jack has to laugh a little. As much as Robby might like to hide how affected he is, the droopy, molten brown kicked puppy eyes paired with the boner still tenting his boxers doesn't do him any favors.
"Jack," Robby whispers, and oh, Jack likes that. The desperate, broken tone to his voice. He's so deliciously easy, really. "Please."
"Please what?" Jack taunts, sets his drink down, circles back over to the couch. He stands directly in front of Robby so the usually taller man has to look up at him, has to sit almost eye level with his dick. "Please fuck you? Make you shut up and take my dick? Beg for it like a fag whore?"
Robby fucking squirms, and Jack's lips curl at the sight, pleased. He's already trapped, already gone, he just has to realize it.
"Use your words like a big boy, huh?" Jack coaxes, reaching to grab onto his chin, shaking him a little. Robby looks hazy already, chest rising and falling in quick little breaths. He still doesn't speak.
Jack slowly pushes his thumb into Robby's mouth, half expecting a bite or— any fight at all, really. He should've known better. Robby takes to it instead, lets him in, swirling his tongue and sucking like he was made for it. Jack groans quietly under his breath, slowly fucking his thumb in and out of that wet, eager heat.
"Y'know, you'd make a damn good cocksucker for a straight guy," Jack comments, tilts his head, glances to where Robby is still tented and leaking in his shorts. Aw. There's a cute little wet patch there.
Robby makes a muffled noise of protest but doesn't fight the humiliation, mouth full of Jack's thumb.
"Here's your ultimatum. You can't fuck me. I can fuck you, though. Work that virgin ass open with my dick and fuck you stupid until you can't cum without something inside that greedy hole. And you'll say 'thank you, Jack, I love dick so much and I'm your little faggot slut, sir.' Or I stop right here and now and I never touch you again."
Robby whimpers, bright red and embarrassed, looking like he sort of wants to cry. Good. Jack pulls his thumb from his mouth, a string of saliva connecting the pad of it to his lips. Even slightly messy, he looks so beautiful.
"Jack, I can't— why can't you just—" poor Robby can't find his words, voice tremoring with his shaky breaths. "Just touch me, alright?"
Aw. That won't do.
"'I'm a faggot and I want your dick,' repeat it," Jack orders, unrelenting. This is too much fun, Robby is too much fun, all pathetic and humiliated for him.
"Jack—"
"I'd let you get away with 'Jack, please, I need cock like air, Jack, please fuck me,' cause I think begging suits you so nice," Jack croons, mocks, rubbing Robby's own saliva into his cheek.
Robby looks a little nauseous, but poor guy must be so woozy with all the blood rushing down to his dick. Jack just waits as he fumbles, avoids eye contact, tries not to jerk his hips up for more. Jack wonders if he could cum like this, just from being talked down to. Sure looks like it. "Jack... I— I need.."
"You need?" Jack coaxes.
"I need your dick, sir, please," Robby whispers, fists clenching, knuckles white. His eyes stay fixed down, the words barely audible.
"Aww. You need it like...?" Jack pushes, prodding at all of Robby's buttons til they break.
Robby clears his throat, speaks up a little— untrained but already such a good boy. "I, um. I need it like air."
"Because you're a...?"
"...Faggot," Robby manages, shifting where he sits.
Jack grins, white-toothed and proud. "Aww, I know, baby. Such a good faggot for me, yeah?"
"Jack.." Robby drops his head, rests against Jack's stomach, trying to breathe deep and utterly failing, the tips of his ears maraschino cherry red. Jack slides his fingers into the short, brown hair, petting and scratching until Robby loosens a little, calms enough to be reeled right back in. A push and pull of gentle and firm, a guiding hand, that's what his boy needs.
"You're gonna go to my bedroom," Jack murmurs, still scratching, "and you're gonna strip completely naked. If I see your boxers still on you're getting spanked til you can't sit down for a week, okay?"
"O-kay," Robby agrees, broken.
"Good. Then you're gonna get on my bed, on all fours, face down, ass up. And you're gonna stay perfect and still until I get there. Okay?"
"Okay," Robby breathes, leg bouncing, pent-up and desperate, just the way Jack likes to see.
Jack steps back, scruffs Robby to get him up. He sends him off with a little pat to the ass, and Robby makes the cutest little squeaking sound as he goes, wobbly like a baby doe. Oh, this'll be so much fun.
...
Jack lets him stew a bit. Lazes fifteen minutes away on the couch, pretending like he's not just as antsy, like he doesn't crave it just as much.
It's worth it, so worth it. He pads into his bedroom to a naked, beautifully flushed, tremoring Robby, dick hanging heavy between his legs, leaking onto his sheets. He's propped up on his elbows with his head hanging, clearly trying to stay composed and failing, skin glowing with a sheen of sweat.
"Wow, Mikey," Jack chuckles, kneeling behind him on the mattress, hands going up to knead and spread his cheeks, putting his puckered hole on display. "Don't you look pretty?"
Robby jolts, whimpers. His breathing tremors, his thighs shake. So wrecked and Jack hasn't even started. Poor, poor thing.
"Y'ever taken anything here?" Jack murmurs, rubbing teasing little circles into Robby's asshole with his thumb. "Not even a finger while you jerk off?"
"No," Robby whispers, face down in humiliation.
Jack just laughs, bullies the tip of his thumb in, dry. Robby swallows thickly, squirming a little at the intrusion, stifling a soft noise. "That makes you gay, right? Taking it up the ass?"
"Jack..."
"Mike," Jack pouts mockingly, wriggling his thumb back out. He's not that cruel, and besides, a wet fuck is always better.
He leaves Robby for a moment to rifle in his drawer, grabbing the lube and popping the cap. He coats his fingers liberally and squirts it over Robby's asshole for good measure, rubbing it around the rim and Robby squirms and pants.
"You already like it, don't you?" Jack scoffs, slowly easing a lube-slick finger inside, pride glowing in his chest as Robby swallows back a moan, fights to stay composed. "Taking to it easy. Slut like you was made for it, huh?"
"Please," Robby whispers, ruined, voice muffled. He's trying so, so hard not to make noise, not to give Jack that tiny victory— even though he's already won. It's too late, Jack's finger is pumping inside of him, and fuck, it does feel so fucking good.
Robby can't help the yelp that tumbles from his lips when Jack adds another finger and curls, pressing right into his prostate to send a burst of white-hot pleasure shooting through his spine.
"Oh, fuck, fuck, Jack," he hiccups, slurs, drunk on it, already addicted to it. Just as Jack predicted.
"Shh, let me get you open," Jack coos, scissoring his fingers to watch Robby gasp and arch, pushing back for more like a greedy whore. He purposefully starts to avoid his prostate, doesn't want Robby to cum without his dick.
"Virgin little asshole, all for me, huh?" Jack sneers, because Robby might cry soon from the embarrassment and pleasure of it all, and he really does wanna see that, pretty brown eyes all wet and shining. "Won't stay tight for long. You'll be begging for dick after this, won't you? Speak up, Mikey."
"Fuck you!" Robby manages to spit, too embarrassed to take anymore, stripped bare on every level. "It's... a one-time thing," he adds on, weakly.
"Sure," Jack laughs. "As if you won't be on your knees with this dick down your throat by tomorrow. Worshipping it. I know a faggot slut when I see one, look at you, clenching on my fingers like you don't wanna let em go. This pretty hole sure knows what it wants, at least."
"Jack—" Robby whimpers, weak, dizzy with arousal and pleasure, buzzing with the humiliation.
"Sir."
"....Sir," Robby breathes, and fuck, it makes his cock throb to say it. He's so hard it hurts, and Jack's fingers are still filling him up, stretching him open.
"Oh, god," he muffles his moan in the sheets as Jack presses his tip at his entrance, slowly but steadily pushing in, not giving Robby time to adjust until his hips are pressed flush with his ass.
"Shit, taking cock like a pro," Jack grits, a hand gripping onto his hip as he starts to fuck in and out, building up to a punishing pace. The slap of skin fills the room along with Robby's gasps and moans, louder and louder as Jack pounds ruthlessly against his prostate.
"Fuck! Fuck, sir, please—!"
"Say 'I'm a faggot and I love your dick' Mike, fucking say it," Jack bites out, sliding a hand up the arch of Robby's spine to his face, pushing it into the mattress.
"I'm— mmmnh—!"
"Say it!"
"I-I'm a faggot and I lo— haah— love your dick! Sir!!"
"Good fucking boy," Jack croons, the snap of his hips mean and relentless, adoring the way Robby arches and writhes, the pathetic fucking noises now spilling freely from his lips.
Robby feels so fucking full, so fucking good, better than he has in his life— molten heat that throbs in his spine and pools in his gut, makes him animal, sobbing and clawing at the sheets. Every thrust against his prostate sents sparks shooting behind his heavy lids, drool slipping out of the corners of his mouth. Jack was right, he's a fucking faggot whore. He can't live without this, he can't.
He cums at the realization, the humiliation mixing with the pleasure in a dizzying cocktail. Crying himself hoarse, he clenches desperately around Jack's pulsing dick, his own cock spurting pitifully all over the sheets. He came untouched. A weak sob punches out of him with every thrust, little "uh-uh-uh"s that he can't help.
Jack follows soon after, pumping him full of hot spend, making his eyes roll back with the aftershocks of ecstacy. He feels used up and wrecked, wholly and completely ruined.
Jack settles beside him at some point, pulls his achy, spent body into those freckled arms.
Robby buries his face in Jack's neck, and he cries.
michael robinavich x frank langdon x dennis whittaker x fem!reader. foursome, size kink, praise, degradation, penetrative sex, protected sex, dirty talk, light d/s dynamics, extremely unprofessional conduct.
word count: 1k
a/n: there is no backstory, no lead-in, no justification for why or how this is happening… i have no excuse i just wanna fuck 3 hot doctors okay. frank’s single/divorced in this probably idfk.
“Get on your hands and knees for me.” You’re quick to follow Robby’s instruction. You move onto the bed so your head is towards Frank and your ass is raised for the man behind you. You feel Robby’s large hands grope your cheeks. He smooths one rough palm over your skin to the small of your back, using a steady pressure to urge you into a deeper arch. Dennis watches on, his eyes trained on your exposed body with rapt attention.
You gasp when you suddenly feel the head of Robby’s cock rub through your folds once before he positions himself at your entrance. When he starts to slowly sink into you, you suck in a sharp breath. It feels so good. That familiar stretch. Until it’s not so familiar anymore, because Robby’s still going, groaning as his length pushes deeper than anything you’ve felt before. You’re choking on air by the time he reaches the hilt, eyes squeezed shut, chest heaving.
Frank sits on the bed in front you. He’s holding you against his body, one hand cupping the side of your neck while the other roams up and down your side. A smirk forms on his face as he watches the events unfold.
“That feel good, baby?” He patronizes. “Dr. Robby’s big dick makin’ your pussy feel brand new?”
You can’t help the moan you let out in response to the filth. Beside you, Whitaker chokes on his surprise.
“Jesus Christ, man,” he mutters. He sounds dismayed, but his lust-blown pupils and the bulge in his pants give away his own arousal. Frank only chuckles. Then Robby shifts inside you, and Frank’s hand moves from your neck to pet over your hair while pathetic whimpers slip past your lips.
“You’re taking me so well, sweetheart.” Robby breathes out. “Taking me so fuckin’ good.” He starts to retract, pulling his hips back in a languid stroke only to sink back in just as slowly. The pace ensures that he hits deep every time, sending your body lurching backwards into Frank’s and forcing sweet little “-uh”s past your lips with every thrust. The sounds go right to the three men’s cocks.
You see Dennis’s form grow closer in your periphery, then a new pair of hands are on you. One explores your back while the other slides down to gently knead your breast. You let out a pleased hum at all the attention, giving him the confidence to roll your nipple between two fingers. The pleasure shoots right to your core and makes you tighten around Robby like a vice.
“Fuck-” he chokes out, his fingers tightening around your hips.
“Do that again, Whitaker.” Frank orders, grinning loftily. “She liked that.” His head dips down to your level so he can catch your gaze with wide blue eyes. “Didn’t you, pretty girl?”
You nod desperately. Dennis’s hands stay on your chest, rolling your nipples with gentle fingers and sending shocks of pleasure up your spine to match the ones from Robby’s cock. You rock your hips back in time with his thrusts, forcing each one deeper.
“That’s right, honey.” Robby praises from behind you. “Push back on that cock. Just like that.”
“Fuckin’ desperate for it.” Frank taunts. He reaches down to envelope your left tit in a big hand. The rough groping is a stark contrast to Dennis’s soft attention on the other.
“Now what do you say when someone makes you feel so good?” Frank leans closer, delivering the hushed words to your ear. “Hm?”
You’re forced forward from your hands and onto your forearms with a particularly hard thrust. Your head drops, neck limp. “Thank you, Dr. Robby!” You cry out.
“That’s a good girl,” Robby growls. He amps up to a brutalizing pace, the head of his cock kissing your cervix with every snap of his hips. The dull throbs of pain mingle deliciously with the white-hot pleasure.
“Oh fuck,” you gasp “holy shit.”
“See? He likes a girl with manners.” Frank gives your cheeks a couple of condescending pats. His chuckle and self-congratulatory grin tell you just how much he’s enjoying orchestrating things.
As Robby continues to thrust into you, a slew of curses and “thank yous” spill past your lips between whimpers and moans. You’re nearly incoherent.
“Is she gonna cum?” Dennis asks beside you. “Is she coming?”
Frank lets out a short laugh at that. “Not quite. Why don’t you help her out?”
Dennis’s dominant hand disappears from your breast. Not a second later you’re nearly screaming as deft fingers make contact with your clit. Dennis rubs with firm, rhythmic circles while Robby fucks into you.
“Oh my god, fuck, pleasepleaseplease” You’re near delirious with bliss.
“Theeere it is,” Frank drawls. “Go on, baby. Cum on that nice big dick.”
You couldn’t disobey if you tried. Your orgasm hits you like a truck on Robby’s next thrust, knocking the air from your lungs. You choke on a moan. Behind you, his fingers dig into the flesh of your ass. He stays buried deep, rocking slightly to work you through your release. Just as you start to catch your breath, he lets out a low moan and snaps his hips forward a final time, spilling into his condom.
Robby pants behind you, recovering from his intense orgasm. Frank glances up at a slack-mouthed Dennis.
“You’re up, champ.”
“Me?” Dennis looks at the man incredulously.
“Oh, yeah.” Frank leans down and plants a kiss to your temple before rising up off the bed. He claps the young man on the shoulder. “I’ll take last. She’s fun like that, all fucked-out and messy.”
Dennis swallows thickly. Behind you, Robby huffs as he slowly eases his length out of you, leaving you feeling staggeringly empty.
“Fuckin’ sadist.” The man grumbles. Your pussy clenches around nothing, mourning the loss of him. He rubs comforting circles on your back as you whimper.
Frank rolls his eyes, grinning as he shoots back, “hardly sadistic if she loves every second.”
I think we all need some pussy!drunk mel in our lives at this time of drought
im just thinking about pushing her glasses up for her while she gets drunk off your pussy....they're fogged up from how good she's licking you up, constantly slipping down her nose whenever she sticks out her tongue and bobs her head up and down. you're so wet that some of your arousal is on her glasses....it squirts whenever she fingers you roughly, and she's buried face deep in that pussy and doesn't even care about your cum getting on her face/glasses.
mel, who's like a whiny puppy when you pull her off your pussy. she's so confused and this pout on her face, brows furrowed together as she blinks to get out of her drunken state. but she's still buzzed on you, whimpers and asks why you pushed her away while she places kisses on your thighs.
you card your fingers through her messy blonde hair, trying to catch your breath. "fuck, mel. you've been eating me out for hours. i think i'm all out of cum."
you chuckle breathlessly, sore clit twitching a bit painfully when mel bites down on your thigh. she latches onto it, sucking your skin into her mouth while she shakes her head and moans.
she pulls away, panting. "just one more? please? just need one more taste."
mel licks her lips like she's famished, like she hasn't been slurping all your pussy juices into her mouth for the past hour or so.
pussydrunk!mel who literally drools at the sight of her strap moving in and out of you. drool is hanging down her lips while she groans and grunts, hips sloppily pushing into yours while she fucks you hard. think she'd try to be vocal and tell you how creamy you are or how your pussy greedily swallows her cock, but she's gone dumb on your pussy and can't talk. she's so drunk on you.
pussydrunk!mel who guides you on her strap after countless orgasms. she's obsessed when you're on top and riding her. she can't get enough of it. she needs you to keep going even after you've collapsed onto her chest. she's addicted to the way you bounce up and down, addicted to the way your wetness covers her strap. she'll start lifting her hips and hold onto your tired body while she fucks you, babbles to herself about your pussy and how good it feels like she can actually feel your hole clench around her strap @___@
pussydrunk!mel who acts like she can feel it when she's drunk on you.....i mean, she acts like she can feel it regardless, but when she's pussydrunk? you swear that strap is real sometimes, like she's about to bust inside of you and get you pregnant.
Jack loved when you bounced on him. Because of his leg he preferred to lay down with you on top. Don’t get him wrong, he loved being on top and pounding into you with full force, but sometimes he loved to just lay down, resting his leg after being up and working for 12 hours straight, and have you bounce on him while he holds onto your ass and helps you go up and down.
You also loved being on top of him, controlling the movements and the peace you would go at, sometimes going painfully slow for both of you and other times bouncing so hard you fell him in your throat. You loved seeing him under you, eyes closed, mouth open. He would put his arms behind his head, flexing those military arm and chest muscles, it would literally make you salivate and cum faster than expected, he looked delicious.
