Oh also pls don't copy my stuff & I DID NOT use AI for any of my works. This all came directly from my sick and twisted mind - I don't need technology's help for that
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Summary: Andrew's girlfriend volunteers to be Lena's camp counselor. During a secret, late night meet up at the edge of the woods, she confesses a dark fantasy to him. Andrew fulfills it.
Content: +18 MDNI, established relationship, codependent tendencies from both pope and reader, size difference, slasher summer vibes, unprotected piv, dry humping, semi-public sex, fingering, oral f! and m!receiving, choking, facefucking, finger sucking, masked sex, knife play, predator/prey primal play, dacryphilia, pussy slapping, fem edging, bondage with zipties, rough sex, creampie, aftercare
Note: this is part two of of my fic sweetheart but can be read as a stand alone!! just written with the same shy freaky reader in mind! i hope you enjoy this new edition to the sweetheartverse <3
WC: 9.5k
[masterlist][AO3]
You are, single-handedly, the best thing to ever happen to Andrew Cody.
And he's painfully aware of it that day you pick up the phone to selflessly put an end to his anxiety. You don't hesitate or think twice. You see a solution even at the expense of yourself and you don't consider anything else.
The first week that school is out, Lena mentions summer camp no less than twenty times. So, Smurf finds one just out of town and signs her up.
She doesn't think about all the problems Lena's had with other kids this year. She doesn't think about the fact that they'd be dropping her off in the middle of nowhere with kids she's never met in her life.
They might be mean. They might exclude her or laugh at her or pull awful pranks. And no one would know until the four weeks were up, until summer camp was over, until she'd already endured it.
Andrew confesses his fears to you late one night, and the following morning he wakes to you making breakfast in the kitchen with your cellphone pressed to your ear, talking animatedly.
And when you're done, you tell him that you'd signed up to be a counselor at the camp Lena's going to. "So she has someone looking out for her," you explain.
Four weeks of your life, stuck in the middle of the woods with a handful of kids, all to protect Lena. All to give Pope a little bit of respite.
He doesn't understand what he did to deserve you, his sweetheart, but he promises to keep you. Happy, safe, satisfied—to keep you his.
The ache starts the moment you step out of his truck, encumbered by your duffel bag and Lena's backpack.
And even though you look back at him over your shoulder as you walk to the camp office building, hand in hand with his niece—even though you stop completely to run back to him for one last kiss, much to Lena's disgust—Andrew misses you the second you're gone.
He tries to busy himself by cleaning your shared room and color coding your dresser drawers. He pulls small jobs with his brothers and runs a few errands for Smurf and hires a new pool cleaner.
But the loneliness begins to suffocate by the second night.
He wasn't used to this. To the absence of your hand around his elbow, to the lack of warmth from your breath whenever you hid your face behind his shoulder, to the silence that presses in on him late at night.
He misses your quiet giggles and your whispered questions and the weight of your hand in his.
He misses the way you look up at him with wide eyes from down on your knees and the way you roll around restlessly in his sheets every night before finally giving up and admitting, "I can't sleep."
And he'll smile and kiss you sweetly and say, "I know, sweetheart. Take your shirt off."
Pope hadn't realized just how reliant he was on his nighttime routine of fucking you to sleep until he no longer could.
Sure, he could stroke himself to the gallery of photos he has of you split open on his cock, but it's not the same. It's not the same, and sleep evades him the same way it used to before he'd met you.
Before he'd been absolved of his sins by the sweetest little girl. Before you'd stuck your fingers between his ribs and taken hold of his twisted and mangled heart for yourself; without flinching, without hesitance—only a claiming.
And now you were gone, loving him in a different way, a way he had never experienced before.
On the third day, Craig is the first to point it out.
Pope is sitting in the same pool lounger you always lay on. His spine is straight and he doesn't speak, he only stares at the glimmers of reflection in the aquamarine waters.
"Dude," Craig says, lifting a joint to his lips and cupping his hands around the end to light it. "You've gotta get a hobby or somethin' man. I've got a girl coming over in twenty minutes, you can't just sit here all creepy and woeful cause you haven't gotten any pussy in a few days."
Andrew's lip curls. "Don't say that."
His brother shrugs dramatically. "Well, man. I'm just being honest. We're all thinking it, I'm just the one saying it."
"Saying what?"
"That this—" Craig sweeps his hands outwards, motioning to Pope and the state he's in. "It's not healthy. She's a real sweetheart and you love her, I get it. But this, like, codependency you've got going on is just sad, bro. Seriously."
Andrew doesn't respond, but the words stick with him.
He gets in his truck and drives himself to Deran's bar, knowing there's probably a hundred and one things to clean in the kitchen. A hundred and one things that will keep his mind busy.
But while he's reorganizing the back stock, he can't help but think about Craig's little speech.
Codependent?
Andrew Cody. Codependent.
No, he thinks. It's not that bad, is it?
Sure, he misses you. And yeah, it's hard to sleep without you. And he might be going a little stir crazy, not being about to take care of you in his day-to-day routines, but…codependent?
He's drinking a beer, sitting at the bar at the end of the night while Deran resets the register and wipes down the countertop one final time. Pope stares hard at his brother and carefully asks, "Do you think I'm…codependent?"
"Craig talk to you?"
The clarifying question comes immediately, and it does nothing to soothe his concerns. Andrew just levels his stare.
Deran lets out a sigh and says, "Uh…I wouldn't use the word codependent. Isn't that, like, a one sided thing?"
When Andrew speaks, the words come out monotone and rehearsed. "A codependent is someone who forms a dysfunctional, one sided relationship by prioritizing another persons needs over their own, often enabling harmful behaviors."
His brother stares blankly at him.
"I looked it up."
Deran sighs deeply and mulls over the definition for a moment, silence hanging between them while he counts the twenties in his hand. "I guess…maybe it's more like separation anxiety or something," Deran says. "You know, like a dog gets without it's owner."
"That's not helpful."
"You asked," he counters with a shrug.
Pope drops the subject.
And it doesn't matter, anyway. Because an hour later he gets a phone call from an unknown number and when he answers it, the sweetest voice speaks.
"Andrew?"
"Sweetheart? You okay? What's wrong?"
"I…I'm sorry for calling so late, but…"
He can hear it, even through the phone. The anguish in you. Pope hates it. Hates it so much that the words are rushed and desperate as they spill from his mouth. "Tell me, sweetheart. Tell me what's wrong and I'll fix it, okay? Talk to me."
A ragged sound leaves you, an almost-sob. "I—I can't sleep. I need to see you, to kiss you, to…please."
Oh—sweet girl. He knows what you need, even if you're a little shy with the asking. He knows because he needs it, too.
Pope's been fantasizing about this exact scenario for the last forty eight hours. So when he gives instructions, they're crystal clear.
"There's a…a trail. Into the woods, a little bit away from that cabin on the east side of the property, do you know which one I'm talking about?"
He's already got his keys in hand, halfway to his truck before you answer. "They call it Cabin Frog."
It makes Andrew laugh. He'd gone in the middle of the night two days before he'd dropped you and Lena off to scope the place out, and he does recall the cartoonish frog painted on the front door.
"Yeah, that's the one," he says, the faintest trace of amusement still in his voice. "Want you to take that trail through the woods, alright? All the way. It's gonna feel like you're walking a real long time, but once you get to the end you'll be at the side of that winding road we took to get to the camp."
"And you'll be waiting for me there?"
"Yeah, sweetheart," he answers gently. "Of course I will be."
"Do you promise?"
"Cross my heart."
By the time you hang up, Pope's almost out of Oceanside. The bustle of the city falls away behind him, allowing for the tall, towering trees to replace the lights.
He likes it out here. Thinks about one day finding some land away from all the chaos and noise and building a home for you there. Someplace that doesn't belong to his brothers or his mother. Someplace that's just yours.
But maybe it's wishful thinking. Maybe he's just excited and eager for the first time in days, fueled by the promise of seeing you.
Pope arrives at your spot before you do. He parks his truck on the shoulder of the empty street and gets out.
With his arms folded and his back pressed to the passenger door, he waits. It doesn't take long, though. He hears crunching leaves and cracking sticks beneath your feet seconds before you emerge from the darkness of the brush.
And the moment you see him, you melt into yourself. Shoulders relaxing, a long held sigh leaving your pretty mouth. You're dressed in nothing more than a pair of pajama shorts and one of Pope's old t-shirts.
That tightness in his chest dissipates right then and there. The tension bleeds from his muscles and everything settles in him as you run up the small, grassy bank at the side of the road and throw yourself into his waiting arms.
Pope smiles. For the first time in what feels like a long time. He smiles and presses his nose into your hair, inhaling the scent of you deep into his lungs. "Oh, sweetheart," he muses, hands squeezing you tight.
"I missed you so much," you mumble, face pressed into the crook of his neck.
Pope feels the wetness of your tears against his freckled skin and pulls back just enough to see your face. "Hey, don't cry. M'right here. Okay? I've got you."
His sweet girl.
When he slips his big hands beneath your shirt, pressed to the small of your back, it's not a sexual caress but instead a grounding one. Feeling the softness of your skin, warming the cold away with his heat.
Pope opens the passenger door of his truck, brackets a hand around your waist, and sets you on the edge of the leather seat. He pushes your knees apart to make room for him between them and rests his head against your chest.
He hears the steady thumping of your heart and feels himself finally, finally relax.
You card your fingers through his hair, messing up the structure of the ambery curls. Your nails scratch lightly at his scalp and he can't help the low groan that leaves him, the sound vibrating against your sternum.
When you tug lightly to pull his head back and press your mouth to his, he can taste the desperation on your tongue.
Andrew reaches up and grips your face just beneath your chin, holding you in place to lick into your mouth. He's moaning already, sounds mirrored in you, wanting to be impossibly closer.
Your hands grow fevered and he matches your every movement, fingertips pressing into the softness of your hips and the curve of your jaw.
He takes you right then and there; pushes your legs up to your chest and sinks his cock deep inside.
It feels like relief, like forgiveness, like coming home.
Andrew hadn't realized just how much he longed for the taste of your mouth. A craving satisfied only by your sweet sighs against his lips.
Even when he's finished, when he pumps you full of his release, he stays fully seated inside you. Not moving but simply feeling you, pulsing around his cock, sensitive and alive and his.
He traces the features of your face and feels like he'd taken his time with you for granted before. This closeness, the feeling of your skin beneath his fingertips—he hated being without it.
After some time, he helps clean you up with napkins from the glove box and climbs into the cab of the truck with you.
Only then, when you've got your head in his lap, looking up at him with those pretty eyes of yours, does he ask, "How's Lena?"
"She's good," you answer, sleepy grin widening. "I think she's having a lot of fun. And there's this girl her age—Caitlin. They've been making friendship bracelets the last few days. So many of them they're halfway up her arm now."
Hearing it makes Pope crack a smile. She deserves it. After the rough year she's had, he finds peace in knowing she's at least having fun and being a kid for a few weeks the way she should be. "Thank you," he says, voice quiet and a little melancholic.
"For what?"
"For taking care of her," he answers. "And me."
You reach for his hand at your hip and take it in yours. Pope lets you move his fingers of your own will, flattening them before placing them against the side of your cheek. "I love you, Andrew," you say.
It makes his chest pull tight. It's different when you say it. Not like when Smurf tells him she loves him, not like his brothers.
It's painfully different, because it's something you choose.
Even knowing all you know about him and his family, even seeing all you've seen, the things he's never been able to fully shield you from—you still choose him.
He brushes his knuckles against the side of your cheek. And because he doesn't quite know how to explain his own devotion, he says, "I'd do anything for you. Anything."
Andrew means it. Lie or cheat or steal or kill. Anything.
But you don't ask for much. You never do. Just his time and his affection. "Will you rub my back? I haven't been sleeping very well without you."
He nods, eyes shining bright with adoration. You turn on your side with your head still in his lap, and Andrew spends the next several hours stroking his hand lazily up your spine.
Not sleeping, because he doesn't want to miss this precious time with you. Holding his sweetheart close, smelling the scent of your shampoo and the cedar of the trees.
He wakes you a little before sunrise, giving you just enough time that you can sneak back onto the camp's property and back into your cabin undetected.
But before you go, you press your forehead to his and give him that pretty, warm smile of yours. You brush your noses together and peck his lips and say, "Same time tomorrow night, okay?"
"I'll be here," Andrew says.
"You promise?"
"Cross my heart."
This time, when the sun begins to set, Andrew brings a few things with him. He's in less of a rush because there's a routine created now that he can expect.
He's got blankets laid out in the truck bed and a cooler full of your favorite snacks and your favorite movie downloaded on his phone. Everything to make you comfortable, to keep you coming back through the woods every night to find him.
Craig is the first to notice the change.
They're both standing in the kitchen. Pope is making himself something to eat and Craig and Deran are piling leftovers from yesterday onto plates and popping the caps off a couple of beers.
Craig offers one to Pope, and even though it's only eleven in the morning he takes it. Because he's got no where to be until nightfall, and the weather is nice enough out today that he won't be scorched by the sun. He could use a little time to unwind.
His brother's eyes widen in surprise when he takes the bottle from his hands. "You're in a good mood today," he says.
Andrew just shrugs. Knows good and well what's gotten him out of the slump he was in, but doesn't want to give either of his brothers another reason to believe he's codependent. "What? I can't just be in a good mood?"
Deran narrows his eyes and lifts his beer to his mouth. "Seriously, man. Something must've changed."
Whatever relaxation Andrew had hoped for disappears with the conversation at hand. "Stop," he says simply. He wants to argue, but has no ground to stand on that wouldn't collapse under the smallest amount of pressure.
So, Pope leaves it. Gathers his perfectly made sandwich and his beer and leaves the kitchen, trying to ignore the look of concern on their faces.
He chooses not to speak when he overhears Craig saying confusedly, "Therapy, maybe?"
It doesn't matter to him what they think. Not when he shows up on the side of the empty road each night to you bouncing on the balls of your feet, more excited to see him than anyone else has ever been.
So, yeah—maybe he's a little codependent. But none of that matters when you tilt your head back to smile up at him.
None of that matters when you're sitting in his lap, kissing his cheeks and nose and forehead, feverishly rocking your hips against his thigh and making a big wet mess on the denim of his jeans.
Pretty, desperate girl. Always so needy for him, never fully satisfied. And of course Andrew understands, because he's just as insatiable for you.
He does start to wonder if maybe it's a little perverse, though. What he's doing to you.
It clicks in his brain one night when you emerge from the trees in nothing but a bikini top and a pair of jean shorts. The ends of your hair are wet, and when he tilts his head curiously you explain, "The camp counselors had a swim race tonight. And guess what."
Andrew struggles to guess much of anything because he can't stop staring. Rivulets of water still drip down the center of your chest, just between your breasts that are held up beautifully by the polyester ribbon tied behind your neck. When he speaks it's a single word and it's low and slow and raspy, eyes locked on yours. "What?"
"I won! Fastest swimmer out of everyone. Lena was so happy. Seeing her giggling and jumping around—God, Andrew. She's so cute."
"You're cute," he says. "Come here."
And you do, of course. Let him pull you in by the belt loops on your shorts, talking and giggling all the while. So excited to recount your whole day to him that you hardly notice what he's doing until you're on the hood of his car and he's pulling your shorts down your legs and pushing your shoulders back.
It hits him then. With his head between your legs, staring up at you to watch your nipples pebble beneath your bikini. The rubber soles of your high top sneakers make little scuff marks on the black chrome paint as you writhe under the gentle ministrations of his tongue against your clit.
Andrew Cody's got the sweetest, filthiest girl in the palm of his bloodied hands. Wrapped real tight around his finger.
A sweetheart who'd do just about anything for him, and here he is indulging your every whim when in truth he should be protecting you. From himself especially. From the raging monster that lives between his ribs, from the guard dog he'd been molded into by the harsh edges of his life.
Andrew's too weak, though. Could never in a million fucking years deny you anything.
Especially when you set those cute little sneakers over his shoulders and beg so prettily, "Please, Andrew—more. Want you to be—hmm—be mean to me, make it—oh, god. Want you to make it hurt."
And he will, of course. Shoving your legs against your chest, squeezing the back of your thighs hard enough to bruise.
Later in the month, nearly through the final week of your new routine now, the thought crosses Andrew's mind again.
He wonders if the state of your desires has been subconsciously shaped by him. Wonders if maybe, somehow, that darkness inside has started to seep out of his heart and stain your sweet one.
Andrew's given the opportunity to confess these worries to you late one night in the back of his truck. He's got you tucked tight beneath his arm, your fingers tracing lazy patterns over the muscle of his pectoral, right over his heart. "Can I…ask you something?"
You turn your head to look up at him. "Anything. Always."
He chews nervously on the inside of his bottom lip, mulling over how he can approach the subject without coming across insecure, despite the fact that he is.
"Do you…you don't…pretend to like the things we do for—for me, do you?"
A crease forms between your brows, and you prop yourself up on an elbow to fully look at him now. "What do you mean?"
Pope swallows hard, casting his eyes away, feeling suddenly as shy as you get around anyone other than him. "When we…when I…hurt you," he says. "You're not asking for those things just because I want them, right?"
"Andrew, what?"
"I just want to make sure I'm not changing you or….or corrupting you." He takes your face gently in his hands, stroking his fingers softly over your cheek. "You're so—so good. Such a sweetheart. And I'm…"
You wrap your hands around his wrists, pulling him away. It feels like a loss, like rejection, and he can feel his heart beginning to crack clean in two.
But then you look him right in the eye, voice more sure than he's ever heard it.
"I want you, Andrew. Not half of you. Not parts of you." You lean up further, on your knees now, a surety in your movements. "Do you…does it bother you? That I want those things?"
"No—no. Not at all. I…" The words get caught, stuck in his throat, horrified and exhilarated all at once to be so honest about the part of himself he's been taught to hate. The part of himself he knows is bad. Andrew is terrified of losing you, of scaring you.
But even as shy as you are, often hiding your face behind his shoulder, voice always timid and unsure, with this you seem certain. Unwavering.
With him, you've always opened your chest fully, willingly, your heart a soft feast for the darkness inside him.
And what is a man who's been denied softness at every turn of his life to do but devour it?
"Pope."
He stops, the spiral in his mind going quiet.
Not Andrew, but Pope. The worst of him. A name given to a boy with blood beneath his fingernails, a boy who'd already been molded.
You take his big hand in yours and bring it to the side of your neck, pressing his thumb just over your steady pulse.
His own heart hammers, waiting for the other shoe to drop. Waiting for you to realize you deserve better than this. Softer than this.
When you speak, the words are a whisper. A secret meant for him only. "I want you to violate me."
And because it's you who asks—his soft spoken, timid little sweetheart, who's never once flinched at the hard grip of his bloodied hands or shown an ounce of fear at a glimpse into what lives inside him—Pope does it.
Unleashes the worst of himself and lets his fingers tighten around your pretty neck. He presses you down and crawls on top of you, knees bracketing the top of your ribcage. Your hands come to steady themselves on the big expanse of his thighs, and the touch is so gentle that it grounds him. Helps him stay in the moment, reminding him that this is what you want.
Pope's hand on your throat moves up your jaw, cradling your face. He circles the shape of your mouth with the rough pad of his thumb, squishing your pretty lips beneath the pressure. "You have such a sweet mouth," he murmurs, his eyes dark and molten. "D'you know that?"
You can't answer, because he's shoving two fingers behind your teeth before you can inhale again. Your tongue swirls around them, between each digit, moaning around the thickness of his knuckles. He pushes them in deeper, deeper, until you're choking and gasping for air.
Pope doesn't pull them out, not right away. He lets those tears well in your eyes, lets your fingers flex at his thighs, nails scratching against the rough denim. But not once do you look afraid.
Instead, your glassy eyes hold a certain sort of magic in them.
When he does finally pull back, Pope's fingers come away slick and glossy with your saliva. You greedily suck in lungfuls of air that he'd denied you, lips turning up at the corners, forming the happiest looking smile he's ever seen.
Pope unbuttons his jeans and pulls his cock out, already hard and aching. He grips the back of your neck and guides himself between your swollen lips, letting out a sigh of relief when you swallow him down.
Your mouth is soft and smooth, warm velvet around him, tongue gentle but seeking as you swirl it around the tip. He pushes himself to the back of your throat, humming when you choke on his length.
His other hand joins the first, cradling the back of your head, holding you firmly in place so that when he snaps his hips forward your mouth stays in perfect position.
It doesn't take long. Pope fucks your mouth with reckless abandon. Violates you, just like you'd asked. When your eyes go all cloudy, he pulls back just enough to let you breathe. To let the oxygen return to your blood cells, groaning low at the way his cock looks covered in your spit, webs of it clinging to his length and snapping against your lips.
Pope slides himself back into your mouth, down your warm throat, until your nose is pressed up against the trimmed hair at the base of his cock.
He steals your air and you stare up at him with so much adoration in your eyes that it makes his heart constrict. He's never felt a love like this—unconditional and absolute. His own devotion met with equal and devastating totality.
That familiar coil winds tight around his spine, and before he can stop himself Pope is spilling his release at the back of your mouth with a heavy groan.
You swallow him down until he's finished, his cock twitching between your lips. And when he finally pulls out, assessing the fucked out state of you, guilt begins to creep up around the edges of his psyche.
But then you giggle and wipe the back of your hand across your messy, spit-covered mouth, and Pope can't help but mirror the sound.
You cling tight to him for the remainder of the night, and Andrew presses gentle kisses to every inch of exposed skin he can reach with your head on his chest.
It makes him a little sad when sunrise comes and you have to leave him again, but the feeling is soothed by knowing you only do so only to protect Lena.
Still, the final week comes as blessed relief.
On Tuesday night, you come bounding out of the treeline more excited than usual. There's a wide grin on your face as you fall into his embrace, arms wrapped tight around his neck.
"You're in a good mood," he observes, hands resting against the small of your back.
"Mhm. After we put the kids to bed today all the adults got together to watch a movie. A scary one. You wanna know what it was?"
Andrew opens the passenger door of his truck for you, relieved just to hear your voice. "Tell me."
"It was Friday the 13th. You know, the one where the killer goes around and murders all the camp counselors."
"Oh, yeah?"
"Yeah, but it wasn't that scary. Some of it was even a little silly. But…there was this one part."
Andrew helps you up onto the leather seat in the cab and stands tall between your knees. He urges, "What part?"
"Well, it just…"
He sees it happen in real time; that slight embarrassment taking hold of you. You twist your fingers in your lap, fidgeting nervously. "Just what, sweetheart?"
Bashfully, you admit, "It got me thinking of you."
And he knows, before you even explain, that this particular scene had you thinking of what he does to you. Pope wets his lips with the tip of his tongue, breath growing a little slower. "Did it?"
"Mhm." You nod. "The killer is, like…super strong. He's tall and broad and big, you know? Like you are."
Andrew feels his face heat when you say it. "Big, huh?"
You giggle softly and press your forehead against his chest that is, in fact, big and broad. Corded with muscle beneath a masculine softness.
He nudges you back up with a shoulder. "Keep going," he says. "I'm still listening."
Your eyes shine brightly when your gaze finds his. When you continue, your voice is just a little lower, quieter—but that shy smile still persists. "He wears this hockey mask, too. Which got me thinking about that mask you wore for that one job—the one I helped with, remember?"
"Mhm."
"And the killer, he was…well, he was chasing one of the camp counselors through the woods. And it was late at night, and the actress was wearing the same shoes as me."
"Yeah?"
"Mhm. Same color and everything. And then she trips, and he catches her of course—"
"Well, of course."
You laugh at his dry attempt at a joke. "Of course. But then…I don't know. He has…he carries this big knife with him, too. Like a machete kinda. And…" You swallow hard, raise your index finger to his neck, and slide it across the crease in his skin. "He holds it to her, you know? Right here. And she looks so scared but…I don't think…if it were me. If it were…you."
Andrew picks it up then, what you're inadvertently asking him for. He knows you. Knows his sweetheart like the back of his hand, in fact. Can hear your desires even before you form the words around them. "You don't think you'd be scared? If I chased you through the woods and held a knife to your throat?"
Your breath stutters when he puts it plainly. But you don't speak, you just slowly shake your head.
He asks, holding eye contact so he'll know if you lie, "S'that what you want me to do to you?"
"I think…maybe…" You sigh, trying to fight of your shy demeanor. "Yes."
Truthfully, he's not sure what to make of it right away. Because Andrew would be lying if he said he hadn't thought about it before. Or an adjacent thing, anyway. Chasing you down, tying you up. Seeing that look in your eye when you're not sure what happens next. Seeing just how far he could push, seeing how much he could take.
But it's all only fantasy. Buried beneath his own shame, his own guilt, practicing the learned behavior of suppression. Because it's you, and he's fire holding fragility in the palm of his hand, and Andrew Cody thinks he would die if he ever managed to hurt you. To truly hurt you.
He would die. Should die.
But…he's not taking, is he?
You're offering up your trust, your safety, your life. For him. For pleasure.
No, Andrew thinks. He's not taking, and it's not something as simple as surrender.
You're giving. Eagerly. Wishfully.
The weight of it overwhelms him.
Andrew lifts his hand to your face, brushing the back of his knuckles gently over your cheek. "And you're—you're sure?"
"I'm sure."
"Do you promise?"
"Cross my heart."
A smile pulls at his lips, hearing a phrase of his own echoed in your mouth. Vowing this time not on his darkened heart but on your sweet one. And because he'd give you anything, anything—even the very worst of him, Andrew nods stiffly. Says, "I think I want that, too."
Your shoulders slump just a little, relief bleeding the tension from your bones.
"But you'll tell me if you change your mind, right? Even during. If you…if you do get scared, I won't be upset or mad or—or anything. You just tell me, okay?"
You wind your arms and legs around him, pulling his body against yours, head resting at the crook of his neck. "I'm not afraid of you."
Only then does he feel himself relax, melting beneath your touch. Andrew lifts your face to his with a finger beneath your chin. But as soon as he presses his mouth to yours, his phone begins to ring.
With a sigh, he fishes the pesky device out of his pocket and presses it to his ear, listening to his brother fill him in on the situation going on back home, outside of the perfect bubble of devotion and safety he's created here with you.
When he hangs up, there's melancholy in his voice as he admits, "I've…I've gotta go. Scouting something for a job next week. And I won't make it tomorrow, either. But…Thursday night. Alright?"
"It'll be the last night before summer camp is over," you say with an excited smirk. "So we can…"
Pope nods. "Just don't—don't come all the way off the trail. alright? You find someplace to hide an' I'll…I'll find you. Yeah?"
He doesn't miss the flash of excitement as it flickers through your pretty eyes. But you only nod in agreement, press a kiss to his cheek and say, "Be careful. And come back to me in one piece."
Far sooner than he'd like, you're turning to walk back to camp and Andrew is turning the key in the ignition.
But even knowing he won't see you for two days, the unsettled feeling is soothed in knowing what comes next.
And when he swaps Craig and Deran out at the scouting spot, Andrew is left alone to his own thoughts and they're filled with only you.
Of how lucky he is that of all the people in the world you could choose to shower in your affection, you choose him. It makes Andrew feel lucky and blessed and perhaps a little undeserving.
He thinks about how pretty you always look and how much harder he'll be standing over you with a knife in his hand.
The thought does occur that maybe this whole thing is fucked up—that he is fucked up for wanting it as much as he does. But then he remembers the brightness in your eyes when you'd asked this of him, and it settles something heavy in his chest.
He moves through the next few days in a sort of haze. Unfocused, because his mind is stuck on you. Not an unusual thing, but more intense than any given day.
And by Thursday morning, Andrew feels like he's buzzing with excitement. A little nervous, too, because he wants this to be perfect for you.
He even picks out an outfit. Andrew isn't the type to typically care that much about how he looks, as long as it's neat and clean and comfortable.
But for this, he picks out a pair of black jeans and a black hoodie, an attempt to blend himself into the shadows where he'll be hiding in wait.
He doesn't own a hockey mask, but he does own an all black ski mask, and…there's a part of him that thinks maybe you'll like it even more.
It takes longer to pick out a knife than an outfit, though.
He has quite the collection, in truth. Mostly smaller ones, easily concealed in a pocket or a boot.
But the one he settles on is a little flashier. Sharp around the edges. It's got a heavy, four knuckled grip and a chrome blade. Serrated with a saw back and a glint at its point.
It's pretty, like you are.
Andrew packs his truck with a few extras for afterwards, too. Your favorite blanket. A thermos full of icy water. A towel and a change of clothes and the t-shirt he'd worn to bed the night before just in case you ask for one to sleep in.
He stops at Deran's bar before he goes. Sets a stack of cash on the table and says, "I'm busy tonight. So don't bother me."
His brother asses him, trying to unearth an answer he won't be telling. Because this is something meant for Andrew only. Deran might know about your shared codependence, but all he needs to know apart from that is the truth; that you're a sweetheart.
"O…kay?"
Pope's jaw flexes. "I mean it. Don't call me unless one of us is dead."
Deran laughs nervously. "Somethin' going on I should know about?"
"No."
"Okay, well…you're acting weird, Pope. I mean, what? I'm just supposed to agree and not ask any questions?"
"Yes."
"You pullin' a solo job or something?"
"If I told you, it wouldn't be a solo job."
Deran levels his stare. And then asks with the smallest trace of amusement in his voice, "You breaking in to a summer camp tonight?"
Pope's jaw flexes. He blinks, and points at the cash. "That's for whoever takes my scouting shift," he says. And because he doesn't trust himself to say nothing more, he turns and leaves.
It takes more effort than he'd like to admit to ignore his brother's laughing in the background.
But none of that matters, Pope tells himself. Not now. Not tonight. Not when dusk falls, and he parks his truck in the familiar spot on the side of the road.
Not when he slides the freshly-polished knife into the leather sheath at his hip or when he pulls the black ski mask over his face.
Andrew's heart beats fast as he steps into the woods. The trees here are tall, the underbrush thick. The air smells like soil and rain and there's a faint aroma of fresh blossoms beneath it all.
His steps are careful. Meticulous. He's silent as he disappears into the cover of thick branches and green leaves. Darkness begins to descend, and Andrew lies in wait, knowing any minute now you'll come.
Knowing you'll run.
He's off the trail. Not far, but enough that you'd never spot him without knowing exactly where he's at. He breathes in deep, shedding free of that veil he wears of a righteous man, letting the his own darkness breach the surface of his psyche.
Pope hears you before he sees you. The branches breaking beneath your sneakers, the subtle shift of your feet. And when he does see you, coming into view just up on the trail, the thought crosses his mind that you got all dressed up for this, too.
Your hair's done up all pretty, and there's glitter on your eyelids and mascara on your lashes. There's even a shimmery gloss on your lips, and Pope can't help but think of how nice your glittering mouth would look around his cock.
He doesn't approach, not right away. He just follows close behind, observing the way you move when you think he's not watching. You're a little more stiff—more aware than you are with him. Like his presence alone puts you at ease, letting you become the sweet girl you are with the protective predator at your back.
You're wearing a pair of shorts and a black tank top over a bikini, the straps thin. Easily cut away, Pope thinks.
He steps deliberately on a stick, the sound loud and echoing in the silence of the forest.
Pope watches you turn towards it, your eyes wide and searching. But he's too well hidden in the shadows.
Yet still, you know he's there.
You turn and run.
Pope gives you a head start. Counts to ten in his head before chasing after you, a dark shadow that meets yours all too quickly.
You look back over your shoulder and stumble when you see him catching up, your balance faltering for only a second.
The trees blur at the edges of his vision as he closes the space between you. When he's close enough to hear your panting breaths, Pope flings his hand out to grab your elbow.
You give a yelp and wrench your arm away, slipping out of his hold.
A raw, animalistic sound of frustration rumbles deep in his chest.
Pope forces himself forward, breathing hard beneath the knit wool of his mask. His heart pounds in his ears, hands itching for another touch of your skin.
You're fast. Faster than he'd though you'd be. A sweet little gazelle slipping fluidly through the brush.
But he's the hungry wolf nipping at your heels, and it doesn't take long before he catches up with you again.
Pope surges forward, this time waiting until he's close enough to enclose his arms around your waist.
You let out a cry, loud and echoing in the trees, squirming in his hold that you'll never free yourself from. He's too strong, too big, too mean.
He holds you tight against him, trying to wedge his leg between your thighs as you struggle. Pope reaches for the knife at his hip and unsheathes it, gripping the handle hard as he brings the blade to your throat.
Your squirming settles.
Pope smiles when he sees you swallow hard. "Yeah," he whispers, breath warm against your ear. "You know what that is, huh?"
He pushes you forward, sharp blade pressing against your neck. You let him maneuver you, forcing you over to a tree a few feet away.
The bark is dark and rough, the trunk thin enough for what he intends.
Pope grabs your shoulder and turns you around, pressing your back against the tree. He lifts the knife and presses the point of it to your chin, lifting your head so you're looking right at him.
Your shimmery lips are parted, your eyes wide and zealous and wanting. Andrew doesn't think he's ever seen you this needy before. So filled with desire that your eyes are glassy with tears.
"Aw, sweetheart," he says tenderly. "You gonna cry? Shh. S'okay. You can cry if you need to, hm?"
A whimper stutters out of you, a single tear sliding down your cheek as you close your eyes.
Pope leans forward and licks at the wetness, drinking in the saltiness of your overwhelm. "You're pretty when you cry," he whispers.
He rights his blade, pressing the edge against your throat again. And then he caresses your arm, fingers sliding all the way down to your hand.
"Don't move," he orders, rounding the tree. Andrew sets your hand against the back of it, reaches for your other arm, and brings them together. He takes one of the black zip ties he'd stashed in his hoodie pocket and wraps it tight around your wrists, the plastic sliding noisily over the raised notches.
Pope comes back around the tree to face you, standing just a few feet away so he can get a good look at you. Sweet and pretty, completely at his mercy.
He could do anything to you, anything. And you'd let him. Perfect, perverted girl that you are.
The muscles in your shoulder flex as you fight against your restraints, trying to free yourself.
Pope smiles beneath his mask and steps closer, bringing the tip of his blade to your face. Carefully, he slides the cold steel down your cheek, over your pulse, across your chest.
"Please," you cry, shifting frantically from one foot to another.
He hooks the knife beneath the straps against your collarbone and pulls, cutting them clean.
You whimper, and Andrew feels the adrenaline in his blood peak. His skin buzzes with the power he holds, watching you twitch in fear and arousal alike.
He shifts the blade over, to the other side of your chest. He cuts away what remains of your straps and feels his cock pulse as your breasts bounce, released from their confines. With his free hand, Pope yanks the fabric down your chest, baring you to him, letting the polyester gather just above your hips.
A whimper escapes your mouth, and then his name, and Andrew pauses.
But then you say, "Touch me, please. Please, please, I can't—"
He sees the way your thighs press together. The way your hips move, chasing what little friction the seam of your shorts allows.
Pope tilts his head. "Filthy thing, aren't you?" He slides his blade down your chest, over the swell of your breast. He gently presses the tip of it against your hardened nipple, smiling at the way you squirm in response. "Got everyone fooled, hm? Always acting so shy. Embarrassed so easily."
His hand comes to your center, pressing hard between your legs. You moan at the contact, the sound desperate and guttural.
"But how pretty you sound when you're afraid," he whispers, rubbing his hand over your clothed cunt. He drags the tip of the knife across your sternum, laying the cold metal flat against your other nipple. "Begging me to touch you. To fuck you. To hurt you."
"Yes, please. I need it, I need it, Pope, please—!"
"Shh," he coos, bringing his hand up to cup your jaw, squeezing hard. "Open your mouth."
You do, and Pope sets his blade between your teeth.
"Hold it," he orders. "Don't drop it. Understand?"
You nod frantically, biting down hard.
"Good." Pope unbuttons your shorts and drags them down your legs. He tugs them off over your sneakers, leaving you in nothing but your cut top around your belly and bikini bottoms.
He drops down to his knees and hooks his fingers around the strings tied at your hips. And as he slowly lowers them, a groan leaves him as he sees just how wet you are.
Sticky and slick, webs of arousal clinging to the polyester fabric as he pulls it away. Pope doesn't think he's ever been this hard before in his entire fucking life.
"Sweet girl," he mutters, discarding your bottoms. He wraps his big hands around the backs of your thighs and pulls them apart. "This where you need me?"
A cry escapes from between your clenched teeth. He thinks you look real cute like this. Squirmy and needy, all for him.
He brings his hand to your cunt, sliding only the tip of his index finger through your syrupy folds. He collects your wetness, dragging it down to press his finger into your entrance.
Pope curls it upwards, stroking that soft spot inside of you, and watches as you struggle to hold the knife in your mouth. Drool begins to collect at the corners of your lips, slowly leaking down your shin. There's a crease between your brows, frustration manifested.
With his free hand, Pope spreads your cunt open. "Pretty pussy's just crying for me, huh?" He pulls his finger out of you, painfully slow, and drags it back up to your swollen clit. He circles it gently, watching it twitch beneath his touch.
And then, with no warning at all, he brings his hand sharply down against your cunt.
You gasp, teeth parting just enough that you drop the knife.
It clatters to the ground between your feet, and Pope looks up at you with a darkened look in his eye. "What did I say?"
Your clit throbs beneath his hand. "M'sorry, m'sorry, I know—"
Pope picks up the knife and wipes both sides of it on his jeans, cleaning the dirt and spit from around the blade. "It's alright," he soothes. "I'm gonna give you one more chance. Okay?"
With a frantic nod you say, "Okay, okay—I'll be good—I promise I'll be good."
He stands, slides his knuckles tenderly over your cheek, and smiles sweetly at you. "I know you will be, sweetheart."
Pope sets the knife back between your teeth and lowers himself down to his knees again
This time, he pulls his mask up just enough to expose his mouth. He leans forward and slides a pointed tongue through all your wetness, drinking deep. You moan in tandem with him, satisfied fully for the first time all night.
He licks every inch of you, tongue hot and wet against your clit. He slides it up and down, up and down, circling your opening that flutters around nothing, begging to be filled.
Pope eats at you like a man starved for it, chin messy and covered in your slick. He presses his face against you, hardly breathing as he licks and sucks feverishly. You taste so sweet, a blend of ambrosia made all for him.
His pretty girl. His sweetheart.
He can hear it in your moans when release threatens. Can feel the way your clit throbs when he sucks it deep into his mouth, tongue flicking over it, ratcheting your pleasure higher and higher.
Pope doesn't let it happen. Pulls his mouth away from you at the very last second, ignoring your whining to slap your cunt again. Not as sharply this time, yet still no less forgiving.
You cry out, thighs trembling, drool covering your chin.
He taps your clit with his fingers. Not quite a slap this time, but not meant for pleasure, either. Just a quick rhythm to keep you right there, right on the edge.
Pope sucks in a breath through his teeth. "So fuckin' wet," he muses. "Does it hurt, baby? Does it burn right here, right in your belly 'cause you need to cum? Hm?"
You try to grit out a response, but it's muffled by the steel in your mouth. Pope stands to his feet and wraps a hand around your neck.
He licks your mouth, right over the blade you hold, cock leaking now behind his zipper. Your eyes are so full of lust and adoration and love that it makes him feel high on it.
The taste of metal and drool and strawberry lip gloss coats his tongue. Pope gently eases the blade from your mouth, smirking when your shoulders slump in relief.
He returns the blade to the leather casing at his hip and palms himself through his jeans.
"I need—fuck, Pope—I need you to fuck me. Please. Please."
It makes him laugh. All those shy, sweet words gone completely now, overshadowed by your desperation. "Yeah," he says. "I know it."
Pope undoes the button of his jeans, watching you watch him.
Your eyes are so eager as he slides his zipper down and reaches in to free his cock, thick and so hard that just stroking it has him fighting back a sigh of bliss.
He closes the small distance between you, lifting one of your legs and setting it up over his hip. Pope lines himself up at your entrance, sliding his cock through your spit-slick folds once before pressing inside.
It feels like solace. Satisfying, blessed solace as he sinks fully inside your cunt, filling you up, spreading you open.
"Oh god—"
Andrew thrusts his hips into you. Hard and unforgiving. The bark of the tree scrapes against your spine, but there's nothing but euphoria on your face.
He slams his hips up into you, fucking you as deep as your anatomy will allow, the head of his cock pressing right up against your womb.
"That's it," he mutters. "Look so fuckin' pretty taking my cock." Pope sets a punishing pace, finding your clit with his thumb and circling it.
Your head falls back, and your sweet moans echoing in the trees. Each wet slide of his cock reverberates in the open space, and the pleasure buzzes beneath you skin. "Don't stop, oh god—please—"
Pope loves the sound of the word in your mouth.
Please.
You beg so beautifully, music to his sick and twisted heart. He knows what he does to you is perverse and wicked and he knows that he shouldn't want to hurt you like this.
But he does. God, he does.
And what's worse is that you want it just as bad. More, even.
He fucks his cock into you, grunting low at how tight and wet you are around him. "You gonna cum for me, sweetheart? Hm?"
"Yes, yes yes—fuck, Andrew, please. Love you so much, I love you so fucking—hmm—"
The words send a shiver down his spine. To hear it now, while he's fucking you like this, rough and cruel and without mercy—it's euphoric.
He's never been loved by anyone else. Not like this. Not so true or so raw. You ask to be given the very worst of him and when he does you love it still.
The velvety walls of your cunt squeeze tight around him.
"Cum for me, baby," he orders. "Give it to me. S'mine. All mine. My fucking girl. My sweetheart. There you go. That's it."
He fucks you through it, even when his own releases crashes into him. Even when his cock grows too sensitive as he pumps you full of his cum, Pope doesn't stop the rhythm of his hips until your thighs tremble. Until your body twitches, balance faltering, pulling tight at the restraints around your wrists.
He's gentle when he pulls out of you to tuck his cock back into his jeans, and quick to grab his blade, reach around the trunk of the tree, and cut the zip ties away.
Your knees buckle, but Andrew is there to catch you. The way he silently vows he always will be. "Hey," he murmurs. "You're alright. Here, hold onto me."
He places your hands on his shoulders, and grabs your shorts from the forest floor. He shakes the dirt out of them and carefully pulls them back up your legs, righting the denim at your hips.
He then removes his ski mask completely, then his hoodie. Pope pulls it over your head, helping you get your arms through the too-big sleeves. When he's satisfied you're warm enough, he wipes gently at your face with careful fingers, cleaning away your tears and spit.
The entire time, you wear this sated, sleepy smile. Staring up at him through your lashes, mascara smudged now.
When he speaks, his voice is quiet. Soft. The words break a little in his mouth. "Are you…okay?"
You nod immediately. "I'm really good," you say. "Are you okay?"
Andrew kisses your forehead, cradling your face in his big hands. "Course I'm okay. Just wanna take care of you. Will you let me do that?"
An easy giggles leaves you, and Andrew wraps his arm around your shoulders.
He leads you back to his truck, where he hand feeds you your favorite snacks and urges you to drink water. He holds you close, your back to his chest, stroking his fingers delicately over your arm.
Your wrists are tender and beginning to bruise already, and Andrew thinks he'd hate himself for it if you hadn't told him how pretty they make you feel.
He tries to massage some of the tension from your shoulders, and wraps you up tight in a blanket. You fall asleep in his lap, safe and sound with his arms around you.
Only in the silence does Andrew admit to himself just how much he enjoyed the night. Only to himself does he admit that maybe he does want to hurt you.
Just a little bit. Just enough.
And he thinks it's not so bad, is it, if you want it too?
He gently wakes you just before sunrise. Just before the alarms back at the camp will start to go off, just before your fellow counselors will notice your absence.
Andrew hates to see you go, but the ache is soothed by knowing you'll return to him later tonight, just after five when he comes to pick up both you and his niece.
You kiss him hard before you start back down the trail in the woods. Look up at him through your lashes with a playful smile and embarrassment in your eyes.
Pope laughs when he sees it. Thinks it's a little silly, after all you've done together, to be shy about anything with him. "What?"
"Nothing, nothing…just—well…" He waits. Gives you the time to gather the courage. "Maybe, I don't know…maybe sometime, we could…do it again?"
A grin stretches wide across his face. "Of course we can, baby."
Your eyes brighten. "You swear?"
He thinks he'd promise you just about anything, as long as you keep looking at him like that. Like he put the stars in the sky. Like you're so unfathomably in love.
Andrew smiles. Kisses the tip of your nose and promises, "Cross my heart."
I know that this might be a given, but if I EVER find out someone is commenting links of my fanfics—ESPECIALLY THE SMUT ONES—under any of Shawn's accounts or any other actor in general's account (ie tiktok, instagram, twitter), I will be deleting and shutting down everything, and you all will never hear from me ever again.
coming from a fandom where an author is currently getting death threats because fans thought it'd be a good idea to comment smut fics of a person with his coworker under his tiktoks and also bringing it up in a large YouTube fandom where the YouTuber tweeted about it, this is insensitive and insane.
don't even get me started how mad I get when celebrities (noah wyle I'm looking at you) bring up fan fiction into professional spaces. not even 6 years ago, fan fiction was such a taboo subject, but then covid happened and we all forgot how to act. like what happened to fandom etiquette????
KEEP THE FICS INSIDE THE FIC SPACES PLEASE FOR THE LOVE OF EVERYTHING THAT IS HOLY!!!!!!
I didn't proofread this, thank goodnesssss I edit my posts
This is technically a part two to Cherry Red, but can be read as a standalone!
18+ content only!
8.5K
tags: sexual content, Jack Abbot x Reader, Dr. Robby x Reader, Rabbot x Reader, P with some Plot again look at me go, praise, dirty talk, oral (f! receiving), fingering, piv, double piv, threeway, DP, breeding kink, squirting, aftercare !!!, alcohol consumption, idk what else even though I wrote it !! ::D
The three of you ducked out of the bathroom about as innocently as you could. Jack’s hand was back in yours, pulling you along behind him, Robby’s hand hot on your back.
You were covered in love bites, your shoulders and neck bruised from Robby’s attention in the bathroom. You could still feel the ghost of the scratch of his beard, his spit still drying on your skin. You were thankful for the cover of the large canvas jacket that was currently over your shoulders. The weight of it was comforting. It smelled like him, musky and wood.
The door to the bar closed behind you, shutting out the thumping bass music and pulsing lights. You took a deep breath, thankful for the cool night air and relatively quiet street as they lead you a few steps away from the bar’s entrance. It felt like the first real breath you’d been able to take since Trinity marched you up to that table and changed the course of your evening.
Jack’s hand let go of yours to cross his arms across his broad chest, his eyebrow raised as he stared at Robby. Robby’s hand was still on your back, his large palm skating around the side of your waist and tugging you closer to his side.
They were arguing about where exactly home meant for the night. You were focusing on not chickening out. You were confident in the bar, the alcohol and tension giving you an edge you weren’t used to feeling.
If it weren’t for the ache between your things and what just happened in the bathroom, you think this was maybe a dream. Way too mushy. A porno would fit better.
“Fine. We’ll go to yours. I’m driving though.” Jack huffed, shaking his head, his silver curls nearly shining in the streetlights.
His voice drew your attention back to the conversation at hand, his hazel eyes meeting yours. He smiled and winked, reaching out and interlacing his fingers with yours, tugging you towards him.
You took a step towards him and out of Robby’s embrace, Robby’s hand skating along your back for a second.
“What? You don’t want a ride?” Robby asked, his eyebrows pulled low over chocolate brown eyes. He gave you a cheeky grin and gestured to a motorcycle a few paces away from the door. “Wanna come with me, Red?”
You flicked your concerned gaze between him and the bike a few times, watching his cheeky grin widen at the look on your face. There was no way you were getting on that thing, Robby or not.
“Um… Didn’t you say you were an emergency room doctor?” You asked, incredulously, your brow arching.
Jack barked a laugh from beside you as Robby spluttered indignantly at your response for a moment. Before you could add anything, Jack tugged you fully to his side, letting go of your hand to instead slip underneath Robby’s jacket. His hand rested warm and heavy on the small of your back.
“I like you, sweetheart.” He said with a smile, leaning down and giving you a molten hot kiss, slow and deep.
“Alright, alright, that’s enough.” Robby reached out, shoving Jack’s shoulder slightly. Jack stumbled back, breaking the kiss, a charming grin on his face.
“I didn’t say anything!” Jack chuckled, his free hand up in mock defeat.
“And you,” Robby said, leaning down and sticking a finger in your chest. “You just wait, you cheeky little thing.”
You smiled up at him, biting at your lower lip. His brown eyes were dark and taunting, the grin on his face curling into something a bit more sly. His hand shot up to grab your chin, tilting your face up to meet his. His large thumb rubbed at your lip, pulling it out of your worrying teeth.
Your tongue darted out, softly licking at his thumb. His reaction is immediate, a breath punching out of his chest as his mouth popped open for a moment. Jack’s hand squeezes at your back, pulling you tighter to his side, his body warm and solid against yours.
“Fuck,” Robby groaned, using his hold on your chin to pull you into a kiss of his own. His is sharper, his teeth nibbling at your lips.
“I’ll meet ya there, Red.” He promised tauntingly, giving your chin a squeeze before letting go and stepping backward towards his bike.
“C’mon trouble.” Jack whispered into your ear, turning the other way and walking you towards a silver truck a few buildings down from where you’re standing. You let him lead you, a ridiculous giggle bubbling out of your lips.
Jack had opened and closed your door for you, like a gentleman, before hopping in the driver's seat and turning the engine over, his radio flickering to life. It hummed a gentle tune, one you’d loved for a long time.
“I love this song.” You murmured, relaxing into Robby’s large, warm jacket and the music.
Jack smiled and turned it up before reaching to grab your hand, running his thumb along the back of it. He waited to pull out of his parking spot until he heard Robby’s engine rumble.
The ride to Robby’s was overall uneventful. The lights of downtown Pittsburgh flashed by, the music soft and conversation easy. Jack and you chatted a bit more about your life, divulging that you worked in a library and had moved to the city a few years ago.
Throughout the ride, his hand doesn’t leave yours, eyes flicking over to yours every once in a while. The weight of it, the repetitive brush of his thumb was warm, comforting. While it lacked the fire his earlier touches carried, it somehow landed harder, lodging somewhere deep in your chest.
When you turned the corner into a quieter neighbourhood, you could feel your pulse pick up as you realized you must be close by. You quiet yourself, peering at the park and smaller properties you passed, nerves starting to creep in. The bathroom was different - you weren’t expecting it, though, you were delighted by it. It caught you by surprise and let you take advantage of the moment.
This was thought and intention and planning, and their promises of more.
Jack seems to notice your shift, slowing the truck further, glancing at you assessingly.
“What are you thinking about, pretty?” Jack asked, flipping your hand over between the two of you and threading his fingers through yours. Fingers that had just recently been touching you very intimately.
“Nothing.” You breathe, giving him an airy smile.
Jack stopped the car in the middle of the empty street to consider you further.
“You can still decide you don’t want this.” He murmured, glancing down at your joined hands before flicking his intense eyes back up to yours, scanning your face. “Just say the word and I’ll take you home.”
“No!” you say quickly, giving what you hoped was a confident smile. “I want it. This. I’m just… nervous.”
Jack smiled softly at you before picking up your hands and lifting them to his lips. He gives a soft kiss to the back of your hand, sparking new nerves to fly directly to your tummy.
“Don’t be nervous, baby.” He said quietly. “We’ll take good care of you.”
Your smile is softer this time, nodding and biting at your bottom lip. Jack smiles again, shaking his head as he puts your joined hands down on his thigh now, giving your palm a squeeze and letting off the brakes.
You can tell you’ve arrived at Robby’s, the second last unit on a row of gorgeous brownstones, by the bike waiting on the pavement in front of it, and the large man leaning against the brick wall.
Jack pulled into the empty spot on the street behind Robby’s bike and gave your hand a squeeze, telling you to stay right there. The door shut behind him, giving you a moment to yourself in the quiet cab of the vehicle. You let out a shaky breath, fingers worrying at the hem of Robby’s jacket, watching as Jack rounds the front of the vehicle. You got this. Nothing to be nervous about.
The feeling of your soaked panties and why they felt like that was reason enough for your nerves to flare anew. Anticipation. Nerves. What the fuck are you doing?
You heard Robby say a few words to Jack, the former shaking his head at him before he popped open the truck door. He offers you his hand, once again, like a gentleman, as you step out into the quiet evening once again, walking you towards Robby and his front door.
“Hi Red,” Robby rumbles from where he leans, a warm smile on his face.
“Hi Robby,” You respond, smiling.
“Wanna come inside and I can get you a drink?”
Thank god.
You nod, feeling shy again as he stands from the wall. Robby reaches and catches your hand in his, tugging you along as he unlocks his front door. He enters, pulling you behind, with Jack following a few steps behind.
Robby lets go of your hands to drop his keys and kick off his boots, walking around and turning on lights, flicking on lamps.
You take off your shoes, stepping into his space, giving a cursory glance around. It was nice, definitely a bachelor’s pad, with dark woods and comfy looking leather furniture.
Robby takes your hand, leading you to his kitchen, Jack removing his own shoes and closing the door behind you three.
You perch on a barstool, watching as Robby moves around his kitchen as he opens a cupboard, pulling out a few short tumbler glasses and a bottle of whiskey.
“Sorry Red, I don’t have anything sweet like you were drinking at the bar.” He said apologetically before turning to the fridge and grabbing a jar.
“I do, however, have these.” Robby dropped a few maraschino cherries in one of the glasses, pouring a little of the syrup in as well.
You smiled at him, secretly thankful, your cheeks warming when he winks at you.
“Fitting,” Jack hummed as he walked towards you, leaning on his elbows on the tabletop next to you and giving you a once over. “Matches your dress.”
You feel like your face matches the color of your outfit with how your cheeks are burning now.
“Your place is nice.” You said, feeling flustered.
“Thank you.” Robby hums, glancing up at you across the kitchen island, pouring the amber liquid in the three glasses.
“He had help decorating it.” Jack smirked. “Just so yaknow.”
“Well, I still think it’s nice.” You laughed, leaning your chin on your hand, glancing between them.
Robby shot him a dirty look as he passed out the glasses, yours with a few shining cherries in the bottom. You picked up the tumbler and took a sip, the whiskey burning a path of fire down your throat. It was sweet, smokey and strong.
“So, what did I miss on the drive over?” Robby asked, leaning against the counter behind him, his glass of whiskey in his hand.
“None of your business, old man.” Jack cut in from beside you, taking a sip of his own drink.
“Oh, you’re gonna be like that?” Robby asked him, his brow rising in annoyance.
“Yeeup.” Jack rumbled from beside you, leaning to bump his shoulder into yours. You shook your head for a moment, an easier smile slipping onto your face.
“We listened to some music and I told Jack a bit about my job. I work at a library and help out with their public programs. Community outreach, helping new arrivals, tutoring and childcare, stuff like that. Nowhere near as intense as what you guys do.” You said your smile growing, ignoring the betrayed look on Jack’s face.
“Maybe not,” Robby considered you. “Sounds worthwhile all the same. Do you like it?”
“Yeah, I really do.” You smiled, fingers playing with the rim of your glass.
“I used to work a corporate job and it sucked the life out of me. Meetings to ‘touch base’, huge egos to dance around and staring at a screen all day didn’t really work for me. I decided to find something that felt like the complete opposite of it at the time and found this. Helping people out, the quiet, calm of the old place. It’s nice to feel like I’m actually doing something that’s even halfway worthwhile.”
Jack’s lips twitched a smiled at you, his glass tilted in his hands.
“Well you didn’t tell me all of that.” He said, hazel eyes seeking out yours.
“You didn’t ask.” You said with a shrug, lifting your glass to cover the coy smile curling at your lip. You took another sip of your drink, the cherry-infused liquor melting hot through you and settling deep.
“Oh, so you’re gonna be like that?” Jack huffed, disbelievingly, an arch to his brow. Robby just chuckled across from you, his arms across his chest.
“Yeeup.” You repeated back to him, shooting him a playful look.
“Cherry-Baby has some sass to her, huh?” He hummed low, brow still arched, leaning into your space. His intense eyes flick across your face, lingering on your lips. You can feel your pulse spike, literally, with the burn of both Jack and Robby’s gaze on you.
“Maybe.” You said, a bit more shy than you’d like.
You were alone with two, very silver, very hot doctors, that had both picked you up at the club. This was definitely a porno.
“Good. We like sassy.” Robby cut in.
You flicked your gaze to him, still aware of how close Jack was now to you. You could feel his body heat, the brush of his arm against yours. Robby was watching you intently, his brows furrowed over his brown eyes and arms across his chest.
The same heat from before flickered alive, settling hot and low in your belly.
Your eyes flicked down to the glass in front of you, nerves flaming alight alongside the desire. You shuffled in your seat a bit, immediately, acutely aware of the fact you were still wearing Robby’s jacket, and the state of your still damp panties.
Before you can fathom what to say, how to flirt with both of them, what you were doing here, Jack turns to you, his assessing gaze flickering over you. You took another sip of your drink nervously, the burn from the liquor seemingly lighting you on fire. Jack seemed to notice you were still wearing Robby’s coat too, as he reached out, grasping at one of the canvas lapels.
“What are you doing still wearing this, sweetheart?” He asked, quietly.
“She looks good in it.” Robby hummed, a glint in his eyes as you flicked yours up to meet his.
“Of course you’d think that, you territorial bastard.” Jack huffed, throwing Robby an uninterested glance.
Jack’s hand runs along your shoulder, skating over the stiff fabric before making contact with the side of your neck. You take a small, sharp breath at the contact, eyes flicking to Jack’s hazel eyes. He looks down at you, a soft smile on his face. His hand slides under the collar of the jacket, shrugging it off of you onto the floor as his hand skates down your back.
“Jesus Robby.” Jack exhaled, looking at your neck and collarbone. “Did you have to eat her?”
It was the first time he could see you in proper light, and apparently, Robby had done a number on you. You shift your hand to your neck, looking down at yourself and seeing a few already purpling bruises, from Robby’s mouth. From the bathroom. Fuck. You clench your thighs in vain.
“Sorry baby, I should have been more careful.” Robby winced from where he was, his chocolate brown gaze sweeping over you. His brows were upturned in concern, but you could see something else flash across his face - something darker, hotter and promising.
“It’s okay,” you said, Jack’s hand still on your back, his presence enveloping you in his warm, spicy cologne. “I… liked it. I like it.” You breathed.
Jack let out a breath beside you, his hand squeezing at your back, your heart pounding in your chest. Robby abandoned his place against the counter, instead leaning on the table in front of you. He cut an imposing figure - large, broad, and seemingly calm. The way he gripped the tabletop in front of him said otherwise.
“You might be perfect.” Jack breathed, his hand ghosting up your spine to grasp the back of your neck. You feel your face flush at this, heart nearly pounding out of your chest. You pull your bottom lip between your teeth when you feel a smile start.
“I can’t stand it when you do that.” He said decisively, pulling your face towards his, crashing his lips into yours.
The hand at the back of your head tangles in your hair as your lips move together, your breaths leaving you pants. You can taste the whiskey on him - smokier and darker than your drink, intoxicating you in a different way.
You’re so preoccupied with not drowning in Jack’s kiss that you didn’t even realize Robby had rounded the table until he was crowding you in on the other side.
You broke Jack’s kiss with stars in your eyes, his mouth immediately moving down your jaw towards your neck, giving soft, wet, open-mouthed kisses on top of Robby’s bruises. You’re already panting, your nerves frayed and worn away. Robby meets you with his own kiss, grabbing your face in his hands, pushing his tongue into your mouth, deep and brutal.
You grasp at Robby’s arm with one hand, the back of Jack’s head with the other, doing your best to anchor yourself. You can feel hands practically all over you - at your waist, in your hair, caressing your face. You can feel Jack’s kisses along your skin, running close to the revealing neckline of your dress.
Breaking from Robby’s kiss, you pant, squirming in your seat. You were hot all over, brain working overtime to keep up with their touches, sounds, kisses. You blink up at Robby, eyelids fluttering when Jack kisses a particularly sweet spot.
“Wanna come to bed, Cherry-Baby?”
You fell into Robby’s bed in a tangle of laughs, limbs, and twisted clothing, your drinks abandoned in the kitchen.
You were perched on the edge of the bed, sat between the two men crowding you with their hands and bodies. You were still wearing your dress, though it had ridden high and exposing. Both of them were shirtless, Jack in a pair of dark jeans, Robby already in his boxes. They were lavishing you in attention.
Jack’s mouth was insistent at your neck, sucking his own marks into your skin as he kissed, licked and bit his way down your neck and across your heaving chest. He held you close to him, his hands squeezing your hips in time with the satisfied sighs that left your lips.
Robby had your face in his hands, leaning over you and drawing you closer to him. He titled your head in his hands to kiss you deep, licking into your mouth, chasing your lips with his. Each breathy sound you let out seemed to spur him on more, his own breaths leaving him in a pant. Your own hands were tangled in his hair, pulling him as close as you can.
Jack’s kisses were drifting lower, growing hotter as his tongue dragged a path along the neckline of your dress. His hands snaked up from your thighs, one hand pressing into your back, the other palming at your breast, his thumb dragging at your nipple. You breathe in at this, breaking Robby’s kiss and arching your back, pushing your chest further into his hand.
“You look so fucking good, baby.” Jack murmured, his hand massaging your tit, head ducking low to kiss at your neckline. “Taste fucking good too.”
At this, you clench your thighs together, remembering exactly what it felt like when he kissed you everywhere. You felt him chuckle low against you, his kisses now starting to trail downward, as if he was reminiscing over the exact same thing. You open your mouth in a sigh against Robby’s.
He broke your kiss, eyes wild, panting against your lips for a moment before glancing down at the other man, watching him touch and kiss you.
“Nuh-uh.” He said, reaching out and pushing Jack’s face away from your body, ignoring the scowl on the other man’s face. “My turn.”
You gasp a laugh, Jack letting out a low swear. You sit upright as your grip around Robby’s neck loosened as he pulled away from you for a moment.
“Can I take this off?” Robby asked low, ducking his head to make eye contact with you.
He traced one of his large fingers up from the hem of your dress, swirling along the red fabric until it reached your cleavage, fingering at the edge of the fabric. You squirm under his touch, Jack’s hands on your hips holding you in place.
“Yeah, yeah please.” You sighed, rolling your shoulders back and pushing your chest towards them.
Jack’s hands squeezed at your hips for a second before releasing you entirely, leaning back to watch as Robby peeled the dress off of you slowly, your nerves flaming alight as he left you in nothing more than your panties.
You look at the two men you sit between through your lashes, absentmindedly biting at your wet bottom lip, nipples pebbling in the open air. Robby’s broad chest was covered in dark hair that led down to the dark blue boxers he wore, an obvious tent in them, his shining eyes roving over your body.
Jack, sat on your other side, pinned you to the spot with his dark gaze. His pupils were blown wide as he stared at where you bite at your lip. His mouth was open in a pant, cheeks reddened, silver curls mussed from your hands. He reached to unbutton the fly of his jeans, large hand palming at his own erection straining against his boxers, leaning back on his other hand.
“You look even better without this, Red.” Robby groaned, shifting to his knees in front of you as he tossed your dress to the side carelessly.
You leaned your weight back on your hands, your bare breasts heaving in time with your breaths, core molten hot and wet. Even sitting on his haunches in front of you, he was huge, nearly level with your face. He leaned into your space, as he took one of your breasts into his mouth, sucking and licking.
Robby ran his large hands up your thighs, fingers reaching up and curling over your soaked panties before sliding them down your legs, abandoning them on the floor. He mouthed down your body, beard scratching at your soft skin, his hands grasping your knees and pulling your legs apart.
You stare down at Robby, mouth open on a pant. You watch, entranced, as he ran his fingers through your downy curls, and through your weeping slit, his wet, open-mouthed kisses following close behind.
You let out a high, wisp of a sound that makes Robby groan against you, kissing and lapping at your sex in earnest, two of his thick fingers slipping inside of you, rubbing deep and molten hot. Your eyebrows pulled up at this, knees hitching up as he sucked at your clit, lazily pumping his fingers inside of you.
“Yeah, there’s that look.” Jack's voice scrapes low, his hand reaching for your jaw and swinging your face towards him. “Stars in your eyes and everything. So pretty, sweetheart.”
He captures you in a kiss, tongue chasing yours and swallowing your moans. He pulled you into him, your chests rubbing against each other, crowding into you. Your eyes slid shut, leaning into his kiss, Robby’s mouth and fingers on your pussy making your hips buck.
It’s fucking overwhelming. These two men, entirely dedicated to lighting you on fire and watching you burn all the way down to embers.
Robby’s fingers brush against something deep and hot that makes you jolt, your core clenching tight and slipping wet around him. You let out a wounded sound against Jack’s lips, his own splitting into a grin as he chuckles a low laugh.
“You do taste good, baby girl.” Robby said against you, licking and kissing. His fingers now pumping deep and steady, making your breath hitch with each press of his digits.
“You feelin’ good?” He asked, words half-muffled by his mouth on you. His eyebrows arch as he stares up at you, watching Jack kiss you deep, his gaze heavy and hot.
“Y-yeah. Yeah.” You said breathlessly, breaking from Jack to stare back at Robby’s intense gaze. “Fuck - I-I want more.”
Robby nearly growls at this, hooking his fingers deep and rough for a moment, his tongue laving at your clit and making your toes curl.
“Lie back on the bed baby.” Jack breathed in your ear causing a shiver to race down your spine.
He let you go to shuck his jeans off, his underwear quick to follow. His dick bouncing against his stomach, a thatch of silver hairs at the base. The sight made your mouth water. As he settled against the pillows, he caught your hungry gaze, his head tilting with a teasing smirk.
Robby slipped his fingers out of you, giving your pussy one last kiss before shuffling you backwards on the bed. You crawled backwards on your elbows, and lied back, body warm against the cool white sheets.
Robby follows you up onto the bed, caging you into his arms, crashing his lips against yours frantically. His own boxers were lost somewhere in the shuffle. While you couldn’t see him, you could feel his heavy cock hanging between you, barely brushing your pussy.
Your breath punches out of you with each brush, hips jerking against Robby’s, mouth moving against his. He bites your lower lip, sucking it into his mouth for a moment before breaking the kiss. Robby shifted his weight to one arm above you to stroke himself a few times. Your breaths came quick, heart pounding and hot all over.
“Relax for me, pretty girl.” Robby murmured in your ear, giving you a deep, slow kiss. You sighed into it, your breath hitching when his hips canted forward, rubbing his cock along your weeping slit.
“So wet, so good.” He groaned, pushing forward and sinking into you slowly, your pussy fluttering around him. “So warm.”
You were right - he is big. He worked his way into you in slow, shallow, burning thrusts. When he finally bottomed out, pressed to the hilt and hitting something deep and raw, you let out a wet, gasping breath.
“Atta girl.” He ground out.
Giving you a moment to adjust, Robby immediately claimed your mouth again, grabbing your chin and kissing you sloppily, all teeth and tongues. He gave his hips an experimental rock, and meeting no resistance, thrusts deep, slow, and heavy. The fullness, the stretch of him nearly takes your breath away,
You break Robby’s kiss to come up for air, a moan slipping out as you rock your hips up to meet his. The sound makes Robby groan, deep and low, grabbing your thigh and hitching it up around his hip, thrusts hitting harder and deeper.
“Fuck baby,” You pant, eyebrows drawn up, staring up at Robby. “It feel s’good, you’re fucking me so good.”
He smiles that wolfish smile again, hips working against yours, low, huffed growls leaving him in time with his thrusts. Robby grabs your chin and turns your head towards the pillows, diving back in to kiss and bite at your neck.
You meet Jack’s hungry gaze, mouth dropped open and eyes glassy. He looked fucking delicious where he lounged - cheeks tinged red, silver curls mussed, and his large hand stroking his cock leisurely. You bit your lip on a wanton moan, his eyes flicking to them immediately, his own mouth dropped open on a pant.
“That’s a good girl. Show him how good you feel.” Robby breathed into your ear, his thrusts picking up speed, hips smacking against yours, you moans pitching higher at the new angle. “Cum on this cock for me, baby. Cum for Jack.”
Your heart is near bursting out of your chest, pleasure rushing over you hot and fast at his words. The heat that had been building in you - since getting to Robby’s, since the bathroom at the bar, since meeting them - flared bright and blinding, your climax crashing over you. Your muscles tightened and twisted, your pussy fluttering and clenching around Robby in time with their spasms. A desperate sound rips out of you, your eyes slamming shut.
“Good fucking girl.” Robby nearly snarled in your ear. “Doing exactly what you’re told. Fucking perfect.” He slowed his pace, rocking into you, fucking you through your orgasm. You could hear how wet you were, pussy sucking him in greedily.
Your breaths heaved in your chest as you came down from your high, eyes fluttering open to meet Jack’s dark, hungry, hazel eyes. You blinked up at him through your lashes, mouth dropped open and eyes glassy. You bit your lip, watching as he stroked his heavy cock in his hand, admiring the muscles in his stomach jumping.
His dark eyes roved over you hungrily, devouring your body in a glance before snapping back to your face. Gone were the charming smirks and winks, instead replaced by what looked like barely controlled desperation.
You stared back at him, pulling a coy smile and reaching out towards him, beckoning him closer.
Robby chuckled, watching you reach for Jack. “Greedy girl.” He tuts, pressing deep inside of you, bottoming out as your breath punched out of you, his hand still forcing you to look at the other man in bed with you.
“I’ve been patient. It’s my turn, Robby.” Jack murmurs, voice rough and scraping.
Robby chuckled again, turning your face back towards him. He gives you a slow, hot, melting kiss, licking into your mouth and stealing your breath anew. His hips grind against yours for a moment, making you whine into his smiling mouth. With one more kiss, he draws away, reaching down and slipping out of you with a hiss, extricating himself from you. You ache at the loss, the fullness, a soft breath slipping out of you as Robby stands up.
You hadn’t looked away from Jack, your chest still heaving, pulse still thundering. He tilted his head at you, hand still working his erection, his eyebrow cocking at you.
“C’mere sweetheart.” He whispered to you, nodding towards his lap, a challenge on his face.
You nodded, your breaths shaky as you rolled to your side, crawling up the bed towards him on wobbly legs. When you were finally in arms reach, Jack reached forward and grabbed your arm, pulling you into his lap swiftly.
“Hey!” You exclaimed in a laugh, your hands reaching out to rest on his muscled shoulders, hovering over him in his lap.
“You were taking too long.” Jack sighed, hands running from your shoulders to your waist, pulling you down against him.
He held you flush against him, your tits pressed against his broad chest, pussy brushing against the base of his thick erection trapped between your tummy. You gasped, hips bucking at the friction on your clit.
“I see I’m not the only one who’s impatient, here.” He chuckled, darkly. “You’re fucking soaked baby.” Jack groaned, leaning in and kissing you dizzy. You rocked your hips against his purposefully now, your slick coating the underside of his cock.
“Jack please, I want you.” You gasped between kisses.
“Fuck Red, you’re killing me here.” He sighed against your lips, lifting you hips a little and reaching between you to line himself up.
“Don’t worry. I’ve got you, sweetheart.” Jack sank into you with a groan, pulling your hips down and onto him. He took his time to stretch you around his cock, consuming all of the small sounds and sighs you made. Jack was thicker than Robby, the new stretch making your pussy clench. When he was finally fully seated, he let out a low swear.
“Fuck you’re tight baby.” Jack breathed, leaning back to stare at you, his hands squeezing your hips tight. “Makes me wanna stay right here.” He reached across your stomach, pressing down against your stomach and kissing you deep.
The pressure in your pelvis increases tenfold with both Jack pressing up into you and his hand pressing down against your womb. You keen high at the feeling, at what he was saying, hips bucking forward, his cock rubbing deep in your walls.
“Yeah, okay.” Jack huffs a small laugh, using his right hand to start rocking your hips back and forth against his. “You’ve been so good, sweetheart. Such a good girl. Gonna make you feel so good.”
His other hand returns to your hips, aiding in finding your rhythm on top of him, rocking back and forth, grinding deep. At this angle, with Jack hitting so deep, your clit is rubbing against the base of his cock, sending sparks of pleasure zinging along your nerves.
“Oh.” You breathed, fingers tightening on his shoulders. “Oh you feel really good, Jack.” You whispered, voice stolen from you.
“Yeah, pretty?” Jack asked, voice scraping low and rough. “You like that?”
You nod feverishly, rocking your hips faster, spurred on by Jack’s grip. You looked down at him, mouth dropped open as his hips thrusted up to meet the rocking of yours. That same wicked heat, desire and pleasure began to burn once again, settling deep in your belly.
Your eyelids flutter shut, eyebrows furrowing, and biting your lip, the flesh raw. The friction against your clit and angle that Jack was hitting was making your limbs feel shaky, pleasure building fast and hot under his attention.
“Keep your eyes open, baby.” He scraped, thrusting his hips against yours harshly. Your eyes popped open at this, a breath caught in your chest. “Eyes on me.”
You nearly melt under his words and the intensity of his gaze. You wrapped your arms around his neck, foreheads brushing as you rutted against Jack’s hips desperately. You met his dark, lust-blown gaze, lips barely brushing.
“Y’know you’re real bossy in bed, Abbot.” Robby cut in dryly from behind you.
“Shut the fuck up, Robby.” Jack growled, his focus on you unbroken. “You had your turn, now shut the fuck up.”
Jack’s grip on your hips shift to grab at your ass, dragging you back and forth against his cock faster, your pussy sucking him in greedily, pulsing and wanting. “Besides, you like it, don’t you, baby? You like it when I use this pussy? When I make it mine?”
“Mhmm,” You nod, moaning. “I love it, Jack.”
“What do you want, baby?” Jack murmured in your ear, his voice all rough edges.
“I want - fuck - I want more. More, please.” You cry, blood boiling in your veins, grinding and rocking against Jack.
You feel warm lips on the back of your shoulder, Robby’s moustache hairs scratching at your skin. He crowded you from behind, standing on his knees on the bed, heat radiating off of him. You could feel his erection on your ass.
“How much more you want, baby?” He asked, licking a stripe up the side of your neck, his hands coming up to cup your breasts from behind.
You clench around Jack, hips stuttering and slowing, brain malfunctioning for a moment. You were a mess, blushing, panting, and squirming on Jack’s lap, desperately wanting the pleasure you knew he would give you. That they could give you.
You turned your head, breaking your eye contact with Jack to stare into Robby’s dark eyes, stormy with desire.
“I want it all.” You whispered, loud enough for both of them to hear.
You leaned back against Robby as he continued to lick and kiss at your neck, hips starting up their rhythm against Jack’s again.
“Fuck.”
“God, baby.”
They both exhaled at the same time, Jack’s grip on your hips tightening, Robby’s squeezing at your breasts.
“Gotta get you nice and ready then baby.” Robby groaned against your neck, hands leaving your chest, instead pushing you to lay down against Jack. Jack’s arms come up and snake around your back, pulling you in against his chest.
He pulls you into another deep kiss, using this new angle to thrust up into you, finding your earlier rhythm before Robby intervened. You sigh into the feeling, pleasure smoldering hot and deep, tangling your tongue with Jack’s.
Robby’s hands run down your back to your asscheeks, spreading you open wide and putting you on display. You feel your face flush, knowing that he was watching your pussy weep around Jack’s cock. You inhale sharply when you feel his fingers slip between your cheeks, sliding down to your wet core, rubbing against where you and Jack met.
“Relax, baby.” You heard Robby murmur, placing an open-mouthed kiss on your ass cheek as he slips his thick finger in alongside Jack’s cock.
Your grip on Jack’s neck tightened at this, your hips rocking steadily, your breathy moans punching out rhythmically. Robby worked you open, stretching you even further as he slowly added fingers, matching Jack’s thrusts into you. You had somewhat lost coherency, muttering a mixture of curses and their names, chanting them as a new orgasm started to swell, your core muscles spasming.
“You look so pretty right now, baby girl.” Jack moaned, one of his hands coming to rest at the base of your skull. “Being so good for us. Your pussy is squeezing me so tight - y’gonna come for me? Gonna cum on my cock? On Robby’s fingers?”
You nodded, eyelids feeling heavy, gaze locked onto Jack’s. His cheeks were red, eyes blown and dark, low groans rolling steadily out of him. He rocked your hips faster, thrusting harder, making your toes curl.
“Good girl. Do it then.” He growled, threading his fingers in your hair and pulling at the base of it harshly.
You rut your hips a few more times desperately, lips crashing against Jack’s, Robby’s fingers stretching and rubbing at you making the pleasure reach a fever pitch, your climax slamming into you, washing over you in waves. You let out a high, keening moan, hips jerking against Jack’s as he fucks you slowly through the aftershocks of your shattering orgasm. Robby withdrew his fingers carefully, swearing low and gritty.
“How you doing, baby?” Jack whispered against your ear, pressing a kiss to your lower jaw, his hand warm and comforting on the back of your neck, hips stilled for the moment. “Still with us?”
You let out a wet laugh, closing your eyes briefly, heartbeat still thudding in your ears. “Yeah, I’m still with you.”
“Good.” Jack smiled up at you. “Still want more?”
“Yeah.” You breathed, opening your eyes and meeting Jack’s. “Yeah. I want both of you, please. All of you.”
Robby groaned from behind you, his large frame leaning over to crowd you in Jack’s lap. He kisses at the corner of your lip, waiting to catch your lips fully, kissing you deeply once he does.
“You can tell me to stop at any time, okay?” Robby said against your lips, his eyebrows raised and staring at you expectantly.
“Y-yeah. Okay.” You agreed, nodding your head. Robby gave you one last kiss before leaning back again, stroking his cock in his large hand.
Jack’s hand on your hip squeezed, pulling you off of him slightly, sitting you up further on your knees to give Robby easier access to you. You felt Robby slap his cock against your ass a few times, his length tapping against you making you jump in Jack’s lap.
Jack’s hand on the back of your neck squeezed, your pulse thundering under his touch.
“Remember what I said before, pretty? Eyes on me. Relax.” Jack said, nodding at you, pinning you in your spot with his gaze, thumb running against your jaw.
You nod back at him, your grip around his neck tightening when you feel Robby press his fat tip against your pussy, lodged right against where Jack’s cock disappears inside of you. You let out a shaky exhale, Robby’s hand coming to your lower back to push you further against Jack. You relaxed your lower muscles as best you could, feeling the head of Robby’s dick stretch your opening, sliding inside of you, alongside Jack.
The feeling makes you gasp, eyes flying open wide, eyebrows furrowed. “Oh, oh that’s-” You start, cut off by your own breath catching in your chest. Your fingernails bite into the flesh of Jack’s shoulder, caught off guard with just how fucking full you already felt.
“You’re doing so good, sweetheart.” Jack breathed against your lips, eyes boring into yours. “Taking us so good.”
You breathe as if to say something, your words dying in your chest when you feel Robby thrust shallowly, pushing himself a little further inside of you.
They were each well-endowed in their own right, thick, long and able to hit spots that made your toes curl. Together, they were devastating. You were being stretched and worked open in a way you never had before, and it was taking your breath away.
“Fuck, Red. If I thought you were tight before.” Robby wheezed a laugh from behind you, rocking his hips back and forth carefully, working his way in deeper and deeper.
It went on like this, Robby working to split you open on both his and Jack’s cock, your breaths becoming steadily gaspier and wetter, Jack and Robby both praising you and telling you just how good you looked being this full.
When Robby finally bottoms out, his own pelvis resting against your ass, Jack’s pelvis pressed up against your cunt, you feel like you’ve lost your entire goddamn mind. You’re moaning and gasping, the pleasure and stretch of both of them setting you alight, tears gathering in the corners of your eyes.
Jack follows your mouth with his, kissing and biting at your lips, his own chest heaving underneath you. You feel Robby at your back, leaning over you and kissing along your shoulders, groans ripping out of him with each minute shift of your hips.
“How you doing, Cherry-Baby?” Robby asks, mouthing along the back of your neck.
“I-I fuck. I-” You stutter, pussy clamping around their cocks, eyelids fluttering. “So fucking full.”
You shift your hips experimentally, eyes nearly rolling back in your head at the feeling. At the knowledge that you had both men at your mercy, that they were both fucking you, at the ache and burn and pleasure of the stretch of taking them at the same time.
“Yean? We’ll fill you up. Fuck you so good pretty little thing.” Robby breathed into your ear, dragging his hips back slowly and pressing forward, punching the air out of all three of you. At Robby’s words, you let out a moan, your eyelids drooping.
“Is that what you want, pretty girl?” Jack rasps, holding your face to his, his own hips rocking up slowly. “Want us to fill you up?”
You nod desperately, slamming your lips against Jack’s, rocking your own hips as best you could against the two of them. It was messy, your pussy absolutely drooling as they thrust into you, their cocks driving deep and setting a punishing rhythm.
“Fuck, baby.” Robby groaned, leaning back up to his full height, one hand pressing on your lower back, the other gripping your hip to pull you against him. “I don’t think I’m gonna last that long with you like this.”
Jack’s grip around your back didn’t let up, his arm like an iron vice holding you to him, his own hips rutting up against yours.
Your orgasm starts to build quickly, their hips slapping against yours, the wet squelch of your pussy taking them over and over. You feel it start in your fingertips this time, a blinding flash that crackles through your nervous system like lightning.
“Y-yeah, yes god - I want it, please, please, please, I’m-” You nearly babble, muscles tightening, pussy clenching rhythmically around their cocks, tears gathering on your lashline.
“Yeah baby girl, give it to me. To us. Come on.” Jack encouraged you, his own voice wrecked.
Your eyes snap shut, heartbeat thundering out of control as your climax shocks you like lightning, your nerves flaring alight, white spots nearly appearing in your vision. You sob out a moan, eyes screwed shut tight, your pussy fluttering and gushing wet around their cocks.
“Jesus Christ.” Robby groans from behind you, his grip on you tightening as they fuck you through your third orgasm in this bed alone. “Taking us so fucking good, Red. Taking this dick so good. Gonna make me cum.”
You nodded blearily, turning your head towards Robby, seeking his mouth out with yours. You kiss him sloppily, moaning his name.
“Fill me up please.” You breathed against Robby’s lips, eyes sliding over to Jack’s.
Jack groaned underneath you at this, his own hips knocking into yours messily, his breaths coming fast and tight, mouthing at your jaw. You can tell they’re both close, their eyes wild, grips tight and chests heaving with exertion. The combination of their grunts and groans makes your pussy flutter, exhaustedly around them.
Robby’s hips slam into your harder, a few curses falling out of his mouth, praising you, calling you a good, gorgeous, filthy little thing, before he stutters to a stop behind you, groaning deep and low as he came.
Jack’s hips still canted against yours desperately, his breaths leaving him in harsh gasps, mouth dropped open as he fucked you harder, hips gripped desperately in his hands.
“Fucking perfect baby girl.” Jack growled low, his thrusts faltering, thrusting deep a few more times before bottoming out and cumming deep inside of you with a low groan.
You dropped your head against Jack’s shoulder, taking a few deep, wet breaths as you all collectively came down from your highs. You can feel his heartbeat, strong and fast under your cheek as you close your eyes for a moment. Your own pulse is still thundering in your ears, your limbs feeling heavy and leftover shocks still racing along underneath your skin.
Robby gives you a warm kiss on your shoulderblade, a shiver running down your back at the soft touch. You can feel the curve of his smile on your skin, hands shifting along your back to pull out of you, a deep sigh slipping out of you at the loss of him. He falls backwards somewhere on the bed, out of your sightline.
You’ve practically gone liquid on Jack’s lap, nuzzling your nose into his neck, eyelids heavy and brain feeling fuzzy.
“You hiding?” Jack whispered in your ear, hand back on the side of your face, tucking you closer into his side.
You shake your head, tilting your head back to look at him. You had a lazy smile pulling at your lips, a blissful look on your face. Your face was flushed, hair mussed, and while your eyes were sleepy, there was a wicked sparkle in them.
“Looking a little loopy, baby.” Jack murmured, kissing at the corner of your lips.
“Feelin’ a little loopy, baby.” You responded on a sigh, giving him a syrupy sweet smile. He laughed, giving you a soft peck on the lips, reaching down and lifting your hips to slip his softened member out of you.
You whine at the shift and at the loss of him, the fullness that had entirely consumed you, your overstimulated pussy clenching and pulsing around nothing. You can feel heat creep up your neck at the wetness you feel, the combination of you, Robby and Jack all leaking down your legs.
Jack rolls you both on your side, tucking you close against his chest and tangling your legs together.
“You did so good, baby. Took it so well.” He whispered in your ear, peppering you with slow, heated kisses on your jaw. “Fucking perfect for us.”
You smiled again and stretched out, settling against Jack and sighing in content. You feel Robby shift on the bed, getting up and walking out of the room, leaving you and Jack in silence for a moment.
“Was that okay? Are you okay?” Jack asked, his fingers playing with a strand of your hair.
“It was more than okay.” You responded, tilting your face towards him to catch his lips in a kiss. “It was perfect.”
“Good.” He smiled, fingers tracing patterns on the side of your face, slipping along your nose, eyes and lips.
Robby padded back into the room, a pair of grey sweats slung low over his hips. He had a few glasses of water, and a wet washcloth in hand, coming to sit on your side of the bed, placing the glasses down on the bedside table.
“How are you doing, pretty girl?” He asked, a soft smile on his face.
“I’m really good.” You smiled at him, suddenly feeling oddly shy for reasons you could not fathom after what just happened. You turned to him, Jack spooning you from behind, one of his biceps acting as your pillow.
“Good.” Robby’s smile widened, leaning low and giving you a slow, deep kiss.
He took the warm washcloth in hand and ran it delicately across your chest, washing away the spit and sweat from your skin, chuckling as you shift and sigh contentedly under his care. When he dips the washcloth low, cleaning your overstimulated core, you let out a nearly pitiful whimper, the friction zinging at your raw nerves.
“I know baby, I’m sorry.” Robby gave you an apologetic look. “You just made a fucking mess.” He said with a chuckle, surveying his bedroom. There were clothes thrown everywhere, the pillows and blankets a mess, and two people already occupying his bed.
You rolled your eyes as he grabbed your hand, sitting you up in bed. He handed you one of the glasses of water on the bedside table, watching you take a few sips, your entire being dripping with exhaustion.
“You know that’s kind of both of your faults.” You laughed, head tilted at Robby, a sparkle in your eye.
Jack hummed from behind you, running a hand along your leg and up your side. Robby shook his head, taking the glass back from you and setting it back down.
“C’mon baby, lie down.” Robby urged, Jack pulling you back to spoon you, your head resting on his bicep again. Robby shuffled you further into Jack’s embrace as he lay down next to you, once again crowding you between the two of them.
He reached to the foot of the bed, grabbing a blanket off the corner of the frame and pulled it over the three of you, settling into a spot beside you, tangling his legs with yours and Jack’s and cuddling in close.
“Sleep first, then we’ll clean you up. Properly.” Robby sighed, arm settling around your waist, leaning back into his pillows.
“Mmm,” You hum, feeling entirely agreeable to this plan.
“Go to sleep, sweetheart.” Jack hums from behind you, his voice the last thing you hear before your eyes fall shut.
And what if I said that was really hard to keep track of that many limbs in a sex scene
Inch one was just pressure. His hands stroked your hair out of your face, stubble rough against your ear as he whispered "You gonna be a good girl for me? You gonna take all my cock in this pretty pussy?"
What a tease inch two was. He held his postition there for a beat while he kissed your lips and then rocked his cock back out. Then back in. His girth alone was a lot but you had six more inches to take.
Inch three started to feel good, his sheer size stretching at your sensitive walls. Instinctively you clenched and Jack felt it. "Fuck, so tight. Keep them legs wide for me baby." He grunted as his hand came down to the inside of your thigh, softly keeping them apart.
Oh but inch four had you gasping. Only half way and you moaned into his ear, praising him. "Oh so good Jack-fuck."
Tingles in your lower tummy is what inch five gave you as he slowly dragged his cock through your folds. That familiar build up starting right at the pitt of your stomach, your pussy pulsing for more.
"Jack!" Inch six had your toes curling, your lungs gulping the air that you both shared.
Inch seven and you were biting into his neck, his weathered skin salty but still soft on your tongue. Gifting him your hums of pleasure, you sucked a generous love mark in your place.
And finally - inch eight. You were seeing stars, your pulse vibrating through your body as you opened your eyes again. Your fingers fisted at the back of his head tugging at his curls, your body relaxing into him.
"Fuck, I think I'm right in your tummy ain't I darlin'?"
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tags: Jack Abbot x Reader, smut, P w the ghost of a P, unprotected piv, handcuffs (practically forgotten about, whoops), thigh riding, spanking, degradation, praise, denial, mean!dom Jack, and then soft!dom Jack, this got away from me oh boy
It was Jack, initially, that had brought up the idea of handcuffs.
You were game to try most things with Jack, happy to test out new and exciting things with your lover. You wouldn’t lie though, you were a bit disappointed at the idea of not being able to touch him whenever you wanted. You liked to touch, to taste. Savour every feeling and sound that ground its way out.
After he fucked you through your mattress with your wrists pinned above your head, huffing promises of I’ll take care of you, I’ll make it so good, you’re such a good pretty little thing, you realized you were rather willing to try it out.
For whatever reservations you had, the idea of being completely restrained made a thrill run up your spine, nerves already on red alert. Quite frankly, whenever Jack did anything you were game, each interaction leaving you a blushing mess. At this point it was starting to get embarrassing.
This probably isn’t what he had intended.
“Fuck- if you don’t let me out of these fuckin-” Jack practically snarled, his voice low and gravelly.
His shoulders pitched forward a bit, his entire frame leaning towards you and away from the chair he’s currently cuffed to. You sat in front of him, on your soft bed, watching with your head tilted as he seemingly tried to break out of them.
You had suggested going to a sex shop and finding a fluffy pair there, but no, Jack Abbot, in all of his dangerous hobbies, magically had a real pair laying around somewhere.
Bet he regrets that now.
You had distracted him - played dirty if you will. You had sat him down in the chair in the corner of your room and promised to make him feel good. You did, taking him slow and deep into your mouth, his hands fisting in your hair and watching as you sucked his cock.
Maybe part of the reason you were able to take him by surprise the way you did was because he didn’t think you had it in you. Up to this point, you’d been more than soft and pliant with him. If you were to get in trouble, it was often your sharp tongue.
Somehow, someway, you had distracted him enough to cuff his hands behind his back, the handcuffs themselves looping through the arm of the chair.
“Baby” Jack muttered, pulling you out of your reverie. “You’re killing me here. Let me out.”
Drawing a deep breath, you smile tentatively at him and shake your head disjointedly, your own heartbeat thudding in your ears.
“Not yet,” You nearly whisper, your voice filled with air. Staring at him through your lashes, you continue your movements, rocking your fingers in and out of yourself at an achingly slow pace, your core already on fire.
Jack breathes low and slow, eyes locked on you, as his chest and arms flexed as he pulled against his restraints.
You let your eyelids flutter shut, your other hand coming up to your breast and kneading it in your hand softly eliciting your own muted gasp. You can tell that his gaze dropped back to your hands - watching you roam over your own body - from the swear he lets out, the telltale clink of his cuffs shuffling with each movement he makes.
You’d been working yourself over since getting him cuffed, hands roaming over your soft skin and supple curves under his intense, lust-blown gaze.
Fingers just barely brushing a spot inside you that made you gasp, your eyes pop open again, breath hitching in your throat at the view in front of you. Jack’s expression was wrecked his mouth open in a soft pant, eyes locked on your core as he watched you slowly fuck yourself open on your fingers.
“Oh fuck,” Jack groaned low, eyes flicking up meet yours before before focusing on your dripping cunt again, watching it greedily swallow your fingers. You felt like your blood was nearly boiling. “Did that feel good, pretty girl?”
Nodding shakily, you push your fingers in as deep as you can again, trying and failing spectacularly to reach that same spot inside you, mewling in disappointment when you fail.
“Want to feel good baby? Is that it?” He asked, voice now lethal in its intensity. Nodding again, you start to move your fingers a bit quicker, driving them into yourself with more force and making your toes curl in the process.
“Use your thumb. Across your clit. Come on.” He commanded, his erection was painfully neglected, hard and long, the head of his dick shiny with precum and your spit. You’re sure that had to be bordering on painful and thought absentmindedly that you were gonna have to take care of that later.
Nerve endings on fire, your entire body strung tight and begging for release already, you swipe your thumb over your clit, the jolt of pleasure making your legs jump in place. Gasping, you do it again, still trying to drive your fingers deeper, deeper still, trying to hit your g-spot again.
“Not enough, baby?” Jack groaned quietly, his own chest heaving with the effort to take in breath.
Jesus. When did it get this hot? Your own lungs on fire, you drew in another tight breath, feeling like you were drowning, the air muggy and tense and hot. So so fucking hot.
“Not the same as your fingers Jack.” You respond breathily. “Not big enough.”
“Baby - oh fuck - let me out and I’ll reach all the spots you can’t, yeah?” He husks, his voice dripping syrupy sweet like honey. Pulse rushing in your own ears, you nod tentatively, withdrawing your fingers, the slick that covered your cunt and thighs glistening on your own fingers.
Standing up unsteadily, you take the few steps towards him on shaky legs, feeling his white-hot gaze resting on your entirely naked form. Placing your hands on his shoulders delicately, your slick staining your fingers, you lower yourself into his lap.
“You gonna play nice if I let you out?” You ask breathily, speaking against Jack’s lips as you lean in to kiss him. He meets your lips in a clash of teeth and desperation, licking, biting and kissing you.
“Oh, like you have?” Jack asks with a strained laugh, moving to leave hot, open-mouthed kisses against your neck as you shuffle in his lap, rolling your hips until you are rocking your slit back and forth against his cock. Jack’s laugh dies with a groan that rumbles from deep in his chest.
“Oh I think I’m playing very nice right now,” You respond with an airy laugh, your breath catching when the head of his dick rubs up against your clit. You reach down with your hand and pump him a few times, squeezing the head of his cock just to get a reaction.
The breath that wheezes out of him sounds like it was ripped from somewhere deep and dark. Jack stared at you, his gaze dark and hungry. His next sentence leaves him in a near growl.
“Will you please take the fucking cuffs off baby.”
He leans forward, crowding you on his lap with his broad chest, causing you to tighten your grip around his shoulders. His arms are bulging at his sides, the muscles straining against his restraints behind him. You don’t get the opportunity to respond before he kisses you breathless, all tongue, and heat and wetness. Jack licks into your mouth, lips moving against yours, his freckled chest pressed up against yours, brushing against your nipples and driving you nearly mad.
When you pull back for air, Jack continues his ministrations on your jaw, leaving hot wet kisses across your skin, leading down your neck, laving you in his attention.
You exhale a shaky laugh, your hand reaching from his shoulder to the dresser beside you, shaky fingers reaching for the silver key. Jack doesn’t let up his assault on your skin, licking and kissing his way back up your neck to stop to nibble your ear.
“Since you asked me so nicely.” You smiled cheekily in response, your breaths still heaving in your chest.
With the key in hand, you shifted on his lap to lean past Jack’s broad frame, straddling one thigh instead of his whole lap. Fuck, he was big. With the change in your position, you were able to innocently brush your naked core against the strong muscle of his thigh. The friction on your clit made your breath catch, your reach faltering for a moment before reaching around to the silver cuffs around Jack’s wrists, who had gone entirely still underneath you. His hands were fisted, his knuckles starting to turn white.
The moment before you turn the key in the lock of his right hand, you feel a bubble of … fear? Anticipation? You weren’t sure why, but you could feel nerves zipping along your skin at the thought of what Jack would do once he had his hands free.
“Thank you, baby.” He coos, his voice scraping rough and low in your ear.
You decided you wanted to find out. You turned the key, a small click sounding it’s release the only sound other than your combined heavy breaths.
Before you can move, breathe, or even think to unlock his left hand, Jack’s hands surge from behind him, anchoring themselves on your hips and pulling you down harshly until your core once again rests against his muscled thigh, the pressure unbearable, but not enough at the same time. You can feel the cool metal of the handcuffs dangling at your side, goosebumps rising on your skin in response.
You suck in a surprised breath, eyes widening as you meet Jack’s gaze, your hands now back on his shoulders. Gone was the controlled, desperate desire you saw, instead replaced by a ferocity and a mean curl to the smirk on his lips.
“I don’t think you were very nice at all.” Jack rasps out, his brows pulled low over his eyes. “I think you were being fuckin mean.”
You open your mouth to respond, but your quick retort dies on your lips as Jack rocks you back and forth across his thick thigh, grinding your pussy against the muscle. You can feel how wet you are, your slick spreading across his freckled thigh, your core clenching emptily and cheeks warming at the feeling. Desire burned low and thick in your belly.
“And now, I think it’s my turn.”
Jack squeezes your hips once, tenses the muscle under you, and grinds your core harder against his leg, picking up the pace as you feel your pussy clench and drip all over him, your clit buzzing with the friction.
“J-Jack-” You start, your face warm and lids low over your eyes as you meet his burning gaze.
“What? Think I didn’t notice you grinding your pretty pussy against me earlier? Like I’m not gonna do it again until you wanna cum all over my thigh?”
The breath goes out of you at this, your pussy clenching against the hard muscle of his thick leg. His erection sat neglected, his own pleasure abandoned to put his focus entirely on you.
“I felt that.” Jack smirked at you, before returning to his earlier assault on your neck.
The kisses were rougher this time, licking and biting across your skin, sucking bruises into your collarbone and upper chest, wherever he could reach from his current position. The bites are sharp, his breath rough against your skin, spit-slicked and hot.
You hold the back of Jack’s head, fingers tangling through the salt and pepper strands at the nape of his neck. Your mouth is open in a soft ‘o’, your breath hitching as heat continues to build in your core. The heat of the moment, the idea of you grinding against his thigh wantonly, makes the beginnings of your climax start to lick at your spine.
Jack leaned back from you for a moment, staring you down with an arched eyebrow in mock disapproval as his hands continued to work you over his lap, the cool chain of the cuffs sliding against your soft skin.
“You’re making such a fucking mess baby.” he chuckled, gravelly and low. “I can feel how warm you are, your pussy is fucking drooling all over me. So dirty, baby. I should make you clean it up.”
You give a hummed moan in response, grinding your hips back and forth desperately, in time with his hands. You lift your gaze to his, the hazy feeling of your orgasm buzzing deep in your bones. You can feel it growing, burning hot and low, desperate for release.
“What?” He cooed mockingly, his gaze dark with lust. “You close pretty girl? You gonna cum just like this?”
“Mhmm,” You nod quickly, your eyes starting to droop, head tilting back as you feel the waves of pleasure starting to rise.
“Too bad.” Jack said flippantly from below you, his iron grip on your hips stopping you in your place. Your eyes pop open from above, snapping your gaze down to him in confusion as he stares up at you with one brow raised. You feel your pussy pulse a few times, the pleasure that was starting to boil now fading away, instead simmering deep.
“Wha?” You ask disorientedly, your hips trying to buck against him a few times, useless against the strength of his grip.
“I said too bad.” Jack said, his tone dark and playful.
Your brows furrow low over your eyes, mouth turning down in a frown as you meet his gaze again. You were close and you wanted it so badly. You wanted him to give it to you.
“But Jack-”
“Don’t whine.” He cut you off shortly, a frown crinkling his brow. “You lock me up, torture me, and then want me to make you cum in my lap? Fat chance baby.”
At this, your frown deepens, and you scoff slightly. You push on his shoulders as if to get out of his lap, worked up enough that you intended to now finish this yourself if you had to. Jack did not let up on his grip at all, and feeling you try to get out of his lap, he scoffs himself, dragging you towards him so that you’re now chest to chest in the chair.
“And where do you think you’re going?” He asks incredulously.
“To take care of myself if you won’t.” You answer petulantly, pushing at his shoulders once again, trying and failing to get up from his lap, your pussy still pulsing from your ruined orgasm.
Jack swore underneath his breath, shaking his head disbelievingly at you.
“You are such a brat sometimes.”
Opening your mouth to protest this, Jack swept you into one of his arms, shifting forward in the chair, before essentially tackling you to the floor. You dropped onto your bottom, while he fell a little more gracefully overtop of you with an uncoordinated humph.
“Hey!” You protested to, well, all of it.
Jack shifted onto his knees in front of you, climbing over top of you quickly and caged you in with his arms. He dropped his hips low, grinding up against your core again, your legs coming to rest quickly around his hips, yours grinding against him in tandem.
“Impatient, dirty, little brat. Can’t believe you’d use my own gear on me.” He rasped in your ear, your own lips turning to kiss his neck, tasting the sweat and salt on his skin for a moment before he pulled back from you, the weight of him leaving your chest. “And on top of it all, you were mean.”
You lean up to protest, following him as he withdraws from overtop of you. You were desperate for a kiss, a touch, something from him, but are met with his right hand, free of the cuffs, pushing you to lay back down. You looked up at him, resting on your elbows, as he stares you down from between your legs, your kiss-swollen lips, soft, slick skin and glassy, open eyes.
You feel your cheeks darken as he stares down at your center, dark and weeping and empty. Jack skates his hand down from your chest, resting on your mound solidly, thumb brushing through your soft curls and barely brushing where you need him most. He was finally gonna take care of you.
You take in a soft breath in, anticipating his touch, when instead you are met with a slap to your inner thigh, inches away from your core, making you clench.
You yelp at the touch, skin stinging where it had landed. Your breath catches on the next inhale as Jack slaps your other thigh in the exact same spot, your pussy clenching again, legs drawing together but stopped by Jack’s broad shoulders. The sensitive skin of your inner thighs is burning with the hits, the fire burning in your belly growing hotter.
“Fuck. You liked that.” Jack rasped brokenly from above you, still staring at your weeping sex.
Two more sharp slaps are delivered, one on each thigh, this time, much closer to your pussy. You nearly sit straight up this time, gasping as each hit lands, your skin burning, stinging and pulsing with red hot desire. Your mouth is open in a pant, staring at him, chest heaving.
Jack looks up at you for a second, giving you a wolfish grin, before landing his next slap directly on your pussy. A bright stinging pain pulses across your core, a broken moan leaving your lips, the pain and pleasure of it making you clench around nothing.
Jack swore under his breath again, his voice low and growly as he watched you react, his gaze now directly on your face, intense, dark, and nearly feral with lust.
Jack delivered two more spanks on your pussy in quick succession, the pain and pleasure burning brighter with each slap. You keen high at this, breaking off in a half-moan half-sob, your voice filled with air.
“Jack,” you cry, hips shifting beneath him, squirming under his rough touch.
Jack leaned down for a moment and gave a soft kiss to your lower belly, running his fingers lightly along your weeping slit, still pulsing from the last slap he gave it.
“You are without a doubt, the prettiest thing I have ever seen.” Jack groaned against your skin, kissing down your belly, until he placed one soft, wet and slow kiss against your clit. You moan openly at this, your mouth falling open at the same time as your legs.
You’re hot all over, desire wrapped around your entire being, wanting desperately for Jack to give you more, to quench this fire that was burning you alive.
Jack lifted his face away from you once more, looking up at you from between your thighs. You can see your slick on his chin already, having barely paid attention to your core yet. It would probably embarrass you, if you weren’t so turned on you thought you might die.
“So,” slap, “fucking,” slap, “pretty.” slap.
Three quick spanks are delivered to your sensitive core, emphasizing each of his words, the heavy stinging making tears jump into your eyes, your knees attempting to close as Jack holds you open to him. You might actually be crying at this point, your breath heaving, blood at a near boiling point.
You choke out some sort of needy sob that Jack practically coos in response to, shifting his weight to one arm and answering your cry with returning his soft wet mouth to your abused core.
“You gonna be nice now?” He asked huskily, eyebrows still raised cockily as he met your teary gaze. You nodded hurriedly, desperate for relief, desperate for him to do something more, something nice, something to you.
“Good,” He hummed with a smile before kissing you.
Jack practically makes out with your pussy - giving soft kisses and licks, replacing the sharp pain with a warm pleasure. You’re hyperventilating at this point, your breaths coming in little gasps, occasionally moaning out his name. You watch as he closes his eyes, kisses and licks and sucks at your clit softly, wetly, and moans into you.
The fire from earlier, one that had been stoked and building slowly since you had clasped the cuffs behind his backs begins to lick at your belly again. You reached out one hand to clasp the hair at the back of his head, leaning on one elbow, and pulled at the roots of his silver strands.
Jack moans into you at this, now using his tongue to fuck into you rhythmically, your hips now rocking against his face. You feel your orgasm once again approaching, building into something deeper, hotter and more relentless than before.
“Oh.” You say quietly, mouth still hanging open, brows furrowed. “Oh, baby, please-” You start to say, your request getting lost somewhere along the way when Jack’s eyes met yours. They burned brightly from where he was settled, trapping you in the intensity of his gaze.
He barely pulled away from your core before grumbling low, his lips moving against yours. “Yeah. Yeah, go ahead.”
Jack dove back into his task, his attention increased tenfold, mouth moving messily and greedily across your cunt as your thoughts began to unravel. He sucks at your clit, eyes still locked on yours, pupils blown wide with lust as you roll your hips against his face. Your eyes nearly roll back in your head when he finally pushes two thick fingers deep inside of you, rocking them in time with your hips.
The heat, the soft kiss of his lips, his fingers hitting deep and the feeling of him groaning against your weeping sex was all too much - the pleasure building until you could feel it buzzing and zipping along your nerves finally crashed into you.
Your orgasm hit you like a train, taking your breath away entirely as it finally washed over you, your toes curling with the intensity. You choked out a sob of Jack’s name, your grip tightening in his hair as your core pulsed with each wave, clenching tight around his two fingers. Jack continued to kiss and lick at you, his fingers pushing deep as it rocked through you, subsiding slowly.
When your grip finally slackens in his hair, he withdraws his fingers and slows his mouth on your core, his kisses now trailing up your belly and your chest, stopping to lave his tongue repeatedly across both of your nipples, a satisfied sigh leaving your lips at this.
He has you caged in his arms again, elbows braced on the floor next to your head, the weight of his body pressing down warm and comforting against you. You wrap your legs around his waist immediately, his thick, heavy, cock rubbing against your core, making Jack hiss as he kisses his way up to you.
His kisses deepen as they trail up your neck, before he reaches your mouth and captures you in a searing kiss. You can feel your slick on his face, salty and musky as he pushes his tongue in your mouth and claims you with his.
When Jack finally pulls back slowly, you open your eyes blearily, blinking up at him and chasing his lips with your own.
“You okay?” He whispered against your lips, giving you a few softer, deeper kisses. His pupils were still blown with lust, but you could see the concern in his gaze, the worry that maybe he had taken things too far.
You let out a soft laugh, the sound breathy and high.
“Yeah baby, I’m good.” You wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled him down for another deep, hot kiss. “I’m more than good.”
“Mmm,” Jack hummed low, leaning down to kiss your neck. “Good. My good girl.” He said, his hips grinding against yours, his cock jumping at the feeling of your wet, weeping core. Your breath catches in your chest at his motions, brows pulled high, your kiss-swollen lips parting on a pant.
“Baby please, I want you.” You whisper against his lips, rocking your hips with his. “I want you to fuck me. I want to make you feel good.” You release your grip on his neck, instead reaching between you two and wrapping your hand around his angry, weeping cock, and notch it at your entrance.
Jack’s mouth drops open in a groan above you, his hips rocking forward slowly as he sinks himself into your core. His head dropped into the crook of your neck as he rocked his hips shallowly. He was big, long and thick, and had to work himself inside you slowly, for both your sakes.
As he finally seats himself inside you, your breath punches out of you in a wheeze, the feeling of him hitting deep and hot in your belly. The pleasure that had crashed into you at near lightspeed earlier begins to rumble once again as you stretch and squeeze around his dick.
“Sweetheart,” He pants against your skin, kissing your collarbone. “You feel fucking perfect.”
Your hands are wrapped around his shoulders once again, reaching up to tug at the back of his hair, pulling his face towards you as he starts to rock his hips back and forth against yours, dragging deep and hot inside of you.
Your mouths collide in a flurry, each kiss desperate and full of desire as Jack’s hips find their rhythm, your own hips rising to meet his thrusts. Jack pants against your mouth, licking at your lips as rising moans escape you, his cock hitting deep and hard against your g-spot.
“Fuck baby,” You gasp, eyes flying open, meeting his immediately. “Fuck right there, right there-” You repeat breathily as his hips snap against yours, your fingernails digging into his freckled shoulder. Jack breathes a laugh that breaks off into a moan into your mouth, rocking back and forth against you with mounting desperation.
“Yeah?” Jack asks, his voice wrecked and raw, rising on one of his hands, leaning away from your torso a tad before grabbing the back of your neck with his other hand.
“Right there?” He asks, making you stare down at where he thrust into you, your pussy wet and practically sucking his cock in as his hips pistoned back and forth. Your eyes really do roll back in your head at this, your second orgasm of the night approaching with an intensity that was making your eyes water anew.
“So fucking good baby,” he rasped, staring you down with an intense gaze, his pupils blown. “Feel so fucking good, taking it so fucking good. Gonna cum deep inside this pretty pussy.”
“Jack, jack, jack, yes, please, please-” You start nearly chanting as the pleasure reaches a fever pitch once again, your climax ripping hard and blinding through you at his words.
You moan low and chokingly, pussy spasming around his cock hard as pleasure licks at you like fire, the waves of it rolling hard and fast. Jack swallows up your moans with his own mouth as he fucked you through your orgasm, your pussy pulsing repeatedly.
“Fuck, fuck, that’s it.” Jack groaned, his hips slamming into yours, the rhythm starting to falter as his own orgasm approached.
You bit your lip as you looked up at him through your glassy eyes, his brow drawn low over intense eyes, his mouth dropped open against yours and letting out growling, raspy pants as his hips pump a few more times before slamming into you for a final time, letting out a gasping low moan as he came deep inside of you.
Your foreheads knock against each other clumsily as you both come down from your respective highs, breaths panting into each other's mouths. You close your eyes and lay your head back on the floor, lips stretching into a lazy smile, a giddy laugh bubbling out of you, still a little breathless.
“What’s so funny, sweetheart?” Jack asked, leaning down and kissing at the corners of your smile. His low voice was curious, his own smile present in his tone.
“You tackled me.” You giggled, eyes popping open and meeting Jack’s soft gaze. “And then you fucked me on the floor. When we have a perfectly good bed right there.” You laughed again, hands now playing with his hair, running your fingers through their soft curls.
“Hmm.” Jack chuckled back, tilting his head as he looked down at you. “I couldn’t wait.” He said with a shrug, his own smile breaking out, leaning forward to give you a deep, slow kiss, each laugh that bubbled out of you swallowed whole.
He gave you a few more deep kisses, pulling out of you slowly as he did so, your core aching at his loss. He turned you both on your sides, laying beside you on the carpeted floor, your legs tangling together.
“I can’t believe you tricked me. You’re a wicked woman.” He whispered to you.
“Speaking of which,” he continued, holding his left arm in front of you, the handcuffs dangling from his wrist. “Do you know where the key might be?”
You laugh harder at this, your hand slapping to your mouth as a disbelieving, wild giggle bubbled up out of you.
“Oh my god. I have no idea.”
“I figured. Either we find it, or I have to call one of my SWAT buddies for their keys, and I’m not doing that.”
Omg second post in one day? Someone contain her (or don't & say nice things and I'll write faster js)
18+ content only!
0.8K
tags: smut, Jack Abbot x Reader, oral (m! receiving), sweet talk, toys, this is really short
When Jack had found your vibrator charging next to your nightstand, you predictably had a good evening. A great evening.
When Jack saw you walking funny the next day, he promised to use it on you more often. After that, it became a familiar part of your sex lives.
When he found your dildo however, things played out a little differently.
You were lying in bed, reading, and asked Jack to find your hand lotion in your bedside drawer. Instead, when he turned back around, he was holding your petal pink, sparkly dildo.
“You buy this before me or to replace me?” Jack asked, eyebrows raising at you, turning to where you were currently lying in bed.
Seeing what he was holding, you huffed a laugh, your cheeks flaming hot. You covered your face with your book for a moment, forgetting your recent purchase.
"My friend was ordering from some shop online, at it was cheaper if we split shipping." You smiled, rolling your eyes.
"Oh, split shipping? Well, of course." He said mockingly, considering the pretty pink object in his hands. "I'll buy you whatever you want. You hiding this? You shy?"
“Neither,” You said, dropping your book beside you and meeting your boyfriend's mischievous gaze. “I bought it for when you’re busy.”
You swiped to try to grab the offensive thing away from him, but he pulled his hand high, holding it out of your reach. At your response, Jack’s amused look shifted, eyes darkening, a challenging smile on his lips.
“Oh for when I’m busy?” He asked mockingly, leaning into your space. “When am I too busy for this pussy, huh?”
You felt your pulse spike at this, rugging sluggish and warm through your veins. You cock your eyebrow at him in your own challenge.
“You work long hours. I can get bored.” You said, with a shrug.
“Ah.” Jack said cooly, wrapping his hand around your wrist and dragging you closer. “We can’t have that, can we?”
“Poor baby,” Jack cooed in mock sympathy, kissing below your ear, soft and slow. “Can’t wait for me to get home? Gotta do it all yourself?”
You feel your face warm again, a little embarrassed, but smiling anyways. You wrap your arms around Jack’s shoulders as he leaned over you, hands planted in the pillows beside your head.
“A girls’ gotta do what a girl’s gotta do.” You laugh, the sound high and breathy.
“Mmm, I can only imagine.” Jack murmured against your skin, nosing along your jawline and up towards your mouth. “Wanna show me, baby?”
“Jack!” You squealed with a laugh, hiding your face in the crook of his neck. You were definitely feeling embarrassed now.
“What, I can watch you cum on my cock but not this sparkly one?” Jack asked you, pressing light kisses along your hairline as you hid from him, a smile in his voice. The action was so soft, so sweet, clashing against his dirty words, his request. It made heat pool low in your belly.
Jack pulled you into a deep kiss, his tongue skating along your bottom lip before plunging in your mouth, pulling every thought directly out of your brain. When you broke apart for air, lips already swollen from his kisses, you laugh again, airily.
“Yeah, okay.”
“Fuck you look good like this.” Jack ground out from above you, his jaw slack.
You hummed happily from where you knelt on the floor in front of him, sucking at the tip of his dick while you worked the rest of him with your palm, shakily. You took a few experimental rocks of your hips, feeling the sparkly dildo rubbing deep against your womb.
Jack had painstakingly prepped you, stretching you out on his fingers and spreading your slick all over your weeping sex. When he had finally pressed the silicone dick inside of you, he let out a filthy moan watching it disappear into your cunt.
With a wicked smile, Jack had stuck the suction cup base of your dildo to the floor and sat you atop it, guiding your hips with his hands for a bit before asking if he could fuck your mouth.
Jack looked glorious from here, his pants shucked down just far enough, shirt bunched up on his tummy. His silver curls were slightly askew from him running his hands through it repeatedly, hazel eyes locked on your face while you worked him over.
“That feel good, baby?” Jack asked, his hand on your jaw, tilting your gaze up to his.
You moan and nod as best you can, swirling your tongue along the underside of his cock, pumping up and down his shaft. Your hips rock faster, the fake member thrusting in and out of you, the plastic balls rubbing against your clit. You could feel the fire starting to burn in your blood, humming along your bones.
“Yeah, I bet it does.” Jack rasped out a laugh, moving to fist his hand in the back of your hair, thrusting his hips into your warm, waiting mouth.
“Once you cum on your toy, you can get up here and do it again on the real thing.”
Omg second post in one day? Someone contain her (or don't & say nice things and I'll write faster js)
18+ content only!
0.8K
tags: smut, Jack Abbot x Reader, oral (m! receiving), sweet talk, toys, this is really short
When Jack had found your vibrator charging next to your nightstand, you predictably had a good evening. A great evening.
When Jack saw you walking funny the next day, he promised to use it on you more often. After that, it became a familiar part of your sex lives.
When he found your dildo however, things played out a little differently.
You were lying in bed, reading, and asked Jack to find your hand lotion in your bedside drawer. Instead, when he turned back around, he was holding your petal pink, sparkly dildo.
“You buy this before me or to replace me?” Jack asked, eyebrows raising at you, turning to where you were currently lying in bed.
Seeing what he was holding, you huffed a laugh, your cheeks flaming hot. You covered your face with your book for a moment, forgetting your recent purchase.
"My friend was ordering from some shop online, and it was cheaper if we split shipping." You smiled, rolling your eyes.
"Oh, split shipping? Well, of course." He said mockingly, considering the pretty pink object in his hands. "You know I'll buy you whatever you want. You hiding this? Or are you shy?"
“Neither,” You said, dropping your book beside you and meeting your boyfriend's mischievous gaze. “I bought it for when you’re busy.”
You swiped to try to grab the offensive thing away from him, but he pulled his hand high, holding it out of your reach. At your response, Jack’s amused look shifted, eyes darkening, a challenging smile on his lips.
“Oh for when I’m busy?” He asked mockingly, leaning into your space. “When am I too busy for this pussy, huh?”
You felt your pulse spike at this, running sluggish and warm through your veins. You cock your eyebrow at him in your own challenge.
“You work long hours. I can get bored.” You said, with a shrug.
“Ah.” Jack said cooly, wrapping his hand around your wrist and dragging you closer. “We can’t have that, can we?”
“Poor baby,” Jack cooed in mock sympathy, kissing below your ear, soft and slow. “Can’t wait for me to get home? Gotta do it all yourself?”
You feel your face warm again, a little embarrassed, but smiling anyways. You wrap your arms around Jack’s shoulders as he leaned over you, hands planted in the pillows beside your head.
“A girls’ gotta do what a girl’s gotta do.” You laugh, the sound high and breathy.
“Mmm, I can only imagine.” Jack murmured against your skin, nosing along your jawline and up towards your mouth. “Wanna show me, baby?”
“Jack!” You squealed with a laugh, hiding your face in the crook of his neck. You were definitely feeling embarrassed now.
“What, I can watch you cum on my cock but not this sparkly one?” Jack asked you, pressing light kisses along your hairline as you hid from him, a smile in his voice. The action was so soft, so sweet, clashing against his dirty words, his request. It made heat pool low in your belly.
Jack pulled you into a deep kiss, his tongue skating along your bottom lip before plunging in your mouth, pulling every thought directly out of your brain. When you broke apart for air, lips already swollen from his kisses, you laugh again, airily.
“Yeah, okay.”
“Fuck you look good like this.” Jack ground out from above you, his jaw slack.
You hummed happily from where you knelt on the floor in front of him, sucking at the tip of his dick while you worked the rest of him with your palm, shakily. You took a few experimental rocks of your hips, feeling the sparkly dildo rubbing deep against your womb.
Jack had painstakingly prepped you, stretching you out on his fingers and spreading your slick all over your weeping sex. When he had finally pressed the silicone dick inside of you, he let out a filthy moan watching it disappear into your cunt.
With a wicked smile, Jack had stuck the suction cup base of your dildo to the floor and sat you atop it, guiding your hips with his hands for a bit before asking if he could fuck your mouth.
Jack looked glorious from here, his pants shucked down just far enough, shirt bunched up on his tummy. His silver curls were slightly askew from him running his hands through it repeatedly, hazel eyes locked on your face while you worked him over.
“That feel good, baby?” Jack asked, his hand on your jaw, tilting your gaze up to his.
You moan and nod as best you can, swirling your tongue along the underside of his cock, pumping up and down his shaft. Your hips rock faster, the fake member thrusting in and out of you, the plastic balls rubbing against your clit. You could feel the fire starting to burn in your blood, humming along your bones.
“Yeah, I bet it does.” Jack rasped out a laugh, moving to fist his hand in the back of your hair, thrusting his hips into your warm, waiting mouth.
“Once you cum on your toy, you can get up here and do it again on the real thing.”
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Let's all pretend these people hang out outside of work, it is just as unbelievable as what happens in this bar bathroom ok.
18+ content only!
7.0K
tags: sexual content, Jack Abbot x Reader, Dr. Robby x Reader, Rabbot x Reader, P with some Plot actually, 3-way-group-vibe-thing-going-on, praise, dirty talk, oral (f! receiving), fingering, alcohol consumption, everyone is a little ooc imo, including reader but it's okay just roll with it
There was no good explanation as to how, or why you were where you were.
You had told your roommate you were going out with some friends, you told your friends you would be out with your roommate. In truth, you were out on your own tonight, looking for something or someone that caught your interest.
And okay, yes, maybe it wasn’t the best idea to be out on your own, dropped off in an Uber in one of the busy downtown areas of Pittsburg, but to be fair, everyone in your life had your location. They all just believed you were with someone else.
You wanted to go out, dance, feel completely free for a night. You had always been embarrassed of flirting in front of your friends, finding it awkward and palm-sweat inducing. Something about it just felt wrong - whispering promising words to a stranger in front of the people who know you best. It was like kissing someone in front of your grandma. You weren’t gonna get wasted. You were gonna be safe, and smart. You just wanted to go out for a night and feel a little anonymous, a little wild, a little free.
You walked down the street for a short while before finding a nightclub that was thumping a hit from the 80s, the exterior simple brick, lights pulsing from inside in time to the beat. You peeked in and saw it looked the right amount of crowded, and didn’t look too fancy. Perfect.
You stopped at the door to show your ID to the bouncer and received a blurry stamp on the back of your right hand. You opened the large door in front of you, the music now loud enough for the bass to thump in your chest as you slipped inside, the shifting lights sliding across your skin. You took a deep breath, adjusted your cherry-red dress a bit, and headed towards the bar.
You weren’t going to get drunk, but you were gonna need a drink.
You wove your way through the groups of people around the edges of the dance floor to get to the bar, tucked towards the back of the venue. Bumping shoulders a few times, you finally squeak in next to a young woman leaning on her elbow tops on the bartop.
She was waving at the bartenders enthusiastically, trying to get their attention.
“Hellooo, my friend and I have been waiting here forever!” She gestured between the two of you after finally grabbing their attention. You see him roll his eyes a bit, and gesture that he would be over in a minute.
You turn to her with a smile and raise your eyebrows. She’s beautiful, with sleek dark hair that has been pulled back sharply from her face, her cheeks reddened with what you assumed was already a slight buzz, her eyes sparkly and green.
“Friends already?” You ask.
“He’s not my biggest fan,” she says with a huffed laugh. “I figured I’d have a better chance of calling him over if you were in the picture.”
You laugh and nod, leaning up against the bar beside her, waiting for the bartender to come back. You fiddle with the rings on your hand, twirling them around your fingers as you wait.
“I’m Trinity by the way.” She offers her hand to you, when you give her your name. She gives you an appreciative once over before turning back to the bar. “You out for a girls' night, or a hot date, Red?”
“Oh, I’m not actually here with anyone.” You respond a bit sheepishly, realising how foolish that must sound to her. “I wanted to go out on my own tonight.”
“Oh.” She said, her voice taking on a knowing tone. Her eyes flicking back to you. “Oh, you’re out hunting.” She says with a laugh, a cheeky smile growing on her face.
You laugh in response, a blush starting to burn at your cheeks. You shrug a bit, turning to her, conspiratorially. “Yeah, I guess I am.”
“And what exactly are you hunting for?” She asks, leaning a bit closer to hear you over the music.
“Good music, good dancing, and maybe for a guy to fuck me through his headboard.” You answer honestly, watching as the bartender finally turned to walk in your direction. Might as well drop the coy act.
“Oh I can help with that.” She laughed again, turning her attention to the bartender as he stopped in front of the pair of you.
“We need 2 tequila shots, and I need drinks for the table. And for us.” she said to the man, matter-of-fact.
As he turned to start grabbing glasses, laying them out on the bartop in front of you, Trinity turned back to you.
“And you need a wingwoman.”
A few other people from her group came to carry drinks, people she called Mel and Huckleberry(..?), taking the array of drinks back to the group that was apparently tucked away on the wall opposite to the bar. You had downed the shot of tequila at Trinity’s demand, and now, 20 minutes later, you’re on the dance floor with your new friends, Trinity, and her coworkers Cassie and ‘Crash’. You both practically had to shout for you to get her actual name, Victoria.
You had your own drink, a vodka cranberry, tucked close to your chest while you swayed your hips back and forth to the music, laughing and feeling looser than you had in a long time. You felt free.
By the time Whitaker and King had come back with their whiskeys, both Robby and Jack had regretted allowing Santos to talk them into ordering another before marching off to the bar.
“Uh, she sends her apologies and demands that nobody go anywhere.” Whitaker said with a slight grimace, passing out the glasses.
When she had convinced them all to go out that night, she failed to mention that at 10PM sharp, this bar turned into a club. Of course she would forget to mention something like that. It was Santos’ fault that they were sitting here in a club, with both attendings on a rare night off, at the same time.
“Where is Santos, anyways?” Robby asked, passing one of the tumblers of whiskey over to Jack and keeping one for himself. He planned on nursing this for the rest of this headache-inducing night, as he was sure Jack wanted to do the same.
“Oh, dancing with McKay, Javadi and her friend she found at the bar.” Mel said with a smile, gesturing over her shoulder as she slipped into the booth across from them, sitting down next to Whitaker. “Said she was on a mission or something.”
“A mission?” Jack asked from Robby’s side, his brows rising in suspicion. Whatever mission Trinity Santos had found on a Friday night in a club couldn’t be good.
They all scanned the crowd until they saw the group of you, McKay and Javadi dancing together to the beat of the early 2000s’ song, and Trinity holding the hand of a new, beautiful woman.
Your hips were swaying along to the beat of the song, spun around so that your back faced Trinity. You have a bright smile on your face, singing passionately to McKay and Javadi while dancing against Santos. You were wearing a short, tight, cherry-red dress, with flimsy little spaghetti straps holding up the scandalous neckline. It hugged your body perfectly, your curves on display as you shook your hips back and forth tantalizingly, nearly hypnotizing the older men sitting in the booth across the bar.
As they each scanned you over appreciatively, they missed Santos looking over in time to catch them ogling you. A knowing, wicked smile spread across her face before she spun you around on the dancefloor, your head tilted back with a laugh.
“There!” Mel said happily, “That’s her friend. She’s been calling her Red.”
Interesting.
You had halfway finished your drink, the faintest of a buzz in your veins as you sang along to the end of one of your favourite songs, the music flowing through you as you moved your body to the beat.
When the beat picked up into something new that you didn’t really recognize, Trinity pulled you closer, shouting over the bass of the new song.
“I need a breather, and this song sucks. Come on!” She stated, grabbing your wrist and pulling you deeper into the dance floor for a moment, Victoria and McKay watching you go with a shrug, spinning to the music as you disappeared behind Trinity.
You popped out on the other side of the crowd to a row of tables and booths, Trinity waving to a group of 3 sitting in the corner, two of whom you recognized from earlier, the other one… wow. You stumble on your feet slightly as you approach them, their attention pulled to the pair of you.
Everyone, this is Red!” Trinity loudly introduces you, sliding in beside the two you recognize from before, leaving you standing at the head of the table.
“That’s not my name,” You say with an amused lilt to your voice, smiling at the strangers sitting around the table in front of you in a hello.
“Red, this is Mel, Huckleberry,-”
“Also not my name, it’s Dennis.” The younger man from before cuts in at this, waving at you from his spot. Trinity continues on as if she wasn’t interrupted, sweeping her hands across the table, to point at the very attractive older man sitting and staring up at you.
“That’s Dr. Robby, Dr. Abbot must have wandered off somewhere.” she said flippantly, stealing a sip out of the glass in Dennis’ hand.
“Washroom.” The man said, his voice low and rumbling in his chest.
Dr. Robby was broad, you could tell he was tall when he stood at his full height. His dark hair and beard were streaked with silver, a pair of soft brown eyes all adding to his rogue-ish handsomeness. He turned his gaze on you, the crinkles at the edges of his eyes deepening as his gaze sweeps down your frame.
“Hi, Red.”
“Sit, Red! Drink, be merry!” Trinity looks back at you, her eyebrow arched and staring at you with a knowing look, gesturing to Robby’s side of the booth. She’s such a shit.
You give Robby a sheepish smile, sliding into the booth beside him, Robby adjusting on the vinyl seats beside you to pull out his phone and text Jack.
She’s sitting in your spot.
Who? Santos?
No. Her friend. The one in red.
Interesting.
Trinity was quizzing you about your life, interrogating you on the basics and how you haven’t met before, even though Pittsburg was huge. Robby feels his dark eyebrows raise at this, turning to look at you sitting beside him.
“You don’t know eachother?” He asked, somewhat incredulously.
He had figured you were an old friend, someone Santos had a reunion with at the bar and decided to spend her night catching up with, or had texted to meet up with you and help cause trouble.
“Nope,” Trinity popped the ‘p’ in her word. “Met her at the bar waiting for the asshole bartender’s attention.”
“Why is he an asshole by the way?” You ask, interjecting quickly.
“He saw me making out with my current situationship, and when I realized he was watching, I asked whether it was because he was getting off to it or if he was a homophobe. He hasn’t been interested in taking my drink orders since.”
“I wonder why.” Dennis responds below his breath, taking a sip from the beer bottle in his hand. Trinity smacked his shoulder and gave him a pointed look.
“Sorry, who did we meet and why are they a homophobe?” A gruff, raspy voice asks from your left. Trinity’s wicked little smile grew as she turned to the new arrival.
He was intimidatingly handsome, with soft, silvery curls atop his head, sparkly hazel eyes staring at you. He had a soft smirk pulling at his lips as his thick, freckled arms crossed his chest, nearly popping out of the black t-shirt he was wearing.
“The bartender. He didn’t like it when I kissed Yo.” Trinity responded flippantly, eyes flicking between you two.
“None of us like it when you do that.” The man standing next to you quipped back quickly.
“Potato, tomato. I felt his vibes and they were judgmental.”
“That’s not the saying, Trin.” Dennis juts in from beside her.
“Potato, tomato, Huckleberry.” Trinity shot back, overenunciating, sass dripping from her every word.
“And who might you be?” The handsome stranger asked, slipping into the booth beside you, his arm settling along the back of the bench seat behind you as he settled in.
“Red! Red, this is Dr. Abbot.” Trinity cut in, watching you squirm between the two men you shared your side of the table with.
“Jack.” He cuts in, offering you his hand. “Call me Jack.”
“Hi Jack,” You offered back, giving him your name. It’s accompanied by a shyer smile than you would have liked.
“Hi, sweetheart.” Dr. Abbot, Jack, responded with a wink.
While Trinity, Dennis and Mel looked cozy on their side of the table, things were downright cramped on yours. The men sitting on either side of you crowd you in the booth, close enough that you can feel the heat radiating off of both of them. The thick, spicy scent of their combined colognes wash over you, nearly short-circuiting your brain for a moment. You’re so cramped in here, you were surprised you weren’t forced to sit on one of their laps.
The thought makes your cheeks blaze, fiddling with the drink in front of you, unaware of the two sets of eyes currently watching you. Your eyes flick up at Trinity pleadingly for a moment, answered by that same conspiratorial smile on her face.
Trinity snorts from across the table, turning to argue with the two beside her, ignoring your current plight that she most definitely had a hand in creating.
You take a sip of your drink to buy yourself a moment, feeling both of their gazes on your face, burning both sides equally.
“So, you’re doctors?” You ask as casually as you can, eyes flitting between the two men as you lean back in your spot, the black vinyl of the seat cool against your burning skin, a small relief under the crushing weight of their attention.
“Well, we are,” Robby starts with a chuckle. “The others are too, to varying degrees. Santos- Trinity convinced us all to come out for a night off for some ‘team bonding’.”
“And how’s that going?” You ask with a smile, turning to Robby in the booth slightly. “You both look like you’re ready to cut and run for the door as soon as she turns her back.”
“I was contemplating it.” Robby replied, rubbing his large hand across his beard, scratching at the bristles lightly.
“And now?” You ask, innocently, flicking your gaze back and forth between the two men sandwiching you in the booth.
“I’m feeling less inclined to run.” He responded, a glint in his eye.
An anxious laugh builds up in your chest, biting your lip before it bubbles right out of you. You weren’t sure what you were expecting tonight, but you were certain it wasn’t this.
“So, is this your normal MO? Go out on the town, meet an insane woman at the bar and integrate yourself into the group of her coworkers slowly? Won’t your friends worry about you, think you’ve been kidnapped or something?” Robby asked you, taking a sip of the drink in his hand.
“Oh, no, actually.” You said, with a surprised laugh. “I’m uhm here by myself actually.” You said, once again feeling a bit sheepish.
You knew the men sitting on either side of you were older than you, and you were all of a sudden worried you’d come off young and naive. The more you said it out loud, the less it sounded like the totally reasonable decision you’d felt it was.
You’re not sure why, but you already don’t like the idea of disappointing them. You wanted them to like you, not just the ridiculously attractive older men, but the others in the group. They seemed fun, and kind in their own ways.
“Alone, hmm?” Jack hums thoughtfully from your side, swirling the tumbler of amber liquid languidly. “What would you want to be alone for?”
You turn to look at him, but instead, he is looking at Robby, exchanging a glance overtop of your head. You’re not sure what the look means, but you chew your lip a bit at the question.
“Not the safest to be wandering around at night, Red.” Robby said lowly, leaning towards you a bit.
“Then thank goodness Trinity found me.” You responded quickly, heat rolling over you in… embarrassment? Anxiety? Something else? You’re not quite sure yourself.
“Yeah, thank goodness.” Jack responded, shifting a bit closer to you on the bench.
You took another sip of your drink nervously, shifting in your seat.
She came here alone?
I guess. Doesn’t seem the safest to me.
It isn’t. We’ll make sure she gets home safe.
Oh? We’re gonna take her home, are we?
Can always do it myself, Robby. I’ll make sure she’s good and taken care of.
No. Fuck. We’ll get her home.
Trinity had ordered another round after Cassie and Victoria returned to the table, pulling up chairs to the open side of the booth. You were nursing your third drink of the night, unsure if the light, pleasant buzz you were feeling was from the alcohol of the laughter that surrounded you. It was getting later in the night, the bass of the music thumping through the club causing you all to lean in closer, pulling tighter to hear each other’s words. You had relaxed into the evening, plied by the good conversation and light buzz you were floating on.
Cassie, Mel and Victoria had just made their leave for the night, promising to get your number from Trinity, who had demanded you put yours in her phone shortly after you arrived at the table.
Now, it was just Trinity, Dennis, Jack, Robby, and you.
Even though a few members of the group had left, Jack didn’t shuffle into an open seat, instead leaning closer as he told stories, his fingers occasionally brushing the bare skin of your shoulder from where it hung casually behind you as you laughed. Each touch felt like fire.
More than once, you’d felt Robby’s thick thigh rub up against yours, somehow interrupting your train of thought through the denim of both of your jeans.
They were funny, witty and sharp, making jokes and telling stories overtop of each other. At one point, Dennis tries to tell you about Trinity dropping a scalpel, before she cuts him off and threatens to mention his affinity for doing laundry while on shift, before Robby cuts them all off from talking about work.
“You’re gonna make her think we’re idiots.” Robby huffed a laugh, sipping on his whiskey and shaking his head. “She’s never gonna show at the Pitt if she needs help now.”
“Well, not to hurt any of your feelings, but I hope I don’t run into any of you at work.” You huff a laugh of your own, your cheeks flushed, and your smile coming easily.
“Oh you wound me, sweetheart.” Jack feigned hurt from beside you, tipping the last of his drink back and nudging your side.
“You’re emergency room physicians. I would happily spend the rest of my life avoiding your workplace and everything you get up to there.” You laugh, taking another sip of your drink, the alcohol humming low and pleasant in your bones.
You make eye contact with Trinity across the table, that same conspiratorial smile she’d been giving you all night returning tenfold as she watched you squirm between her two attendings. She turned to Dennis and started talking to him quickly, their own conversation absorbing them immediately.
“Pretty little thing like you would sure brighten the place up.” Jack hummed, leaning into you a bit further, his voice low and gravelly. You feel your breath catch a little at this, turning to gaze up at him, your eyes blinking wide.
“I like the sound of that.” Robby replied, his own voice low and much closer than you realized earlier.
You let out a shaky breath, blinking quickly and leaned back in your seat to try to catch a moment to compose yourself, when your back bumps up against Jack’s arm, accidentally leaning further into him. Robby had shuffled himself closer, the length of his thick thigh pressing against yours, his broad shoulder bumping into you.
You take another sip of your drink, as you feel a heat creep up your neck. You’re not used to having one man’s attention on you like this, let alone two, let alone men that looked like that.
You’re brought out of your momentary reverie by Trinity picking up her drink and slamming the rest of the liquid down.
“Well, my drink’s done and it’s getting late. Huckleberry and I are headed home, he has to be up early to feed the chickens.” She says with an affectionate pat to Dennis’ shoulder and a mock shake to her head.
“We don’t have chickens.” Dennis clarifies, looking tiredly between the three of you from across the booth as he stands up.
“Dr. Robby, Dr. Abbot, I’m sure you’ll help Red get home safe?” She smiled, saccharinely sweet, an evil glint in her emerald eyes.
“You don’t have t-” You start, flicking your gaze back and forth between the two men you were currently smushed into a booth with.
“Yeah, we’ll get her home.” Robby said confidently, cutting off what was sure to be nervous stammering.
“Great!” Trinity smiled brightly, leaning across the booth table and giving you a quick peck on your cheek. “Text me tomorrow. I like you Red, don’t ghost me.”
You laugh and nod your head in agreement, already fine with the nickname. You waved at Dennis as he said his goodbyes, leaving the three of you in a weighted silence, made heavier by the booming music.
“She’s really nice.” You say, trying to break some of the unidentified tension that lingered in the booth.
Robby snorts from beside you. “Hmm, no. She was nice to you, but that’s not the Santos I know.”
“Oh, well then it’s good I made it into her good graces. I’m glad she adopted me actually,” You laugh, running your fingertip around the rim of your glass delicately. “You’ve all been very nice. I’m glad I came out tonight.”
“Now that you mention it,” Jack starts, turning his attention to you fully, staring you down with his intense gaze. “Why on earth are you out by yourself? Not to sound like an old man, but you’re young and beautiful, alone on a Friday night. That doesn’t track, sweetheart.”
Your smile falters a bit, a bit too affected by the hint of disapproval in his voice, too affected by him calling you beautiful.
“I’m normally pretty shy. I tend to stick close to my friends when we go out, and I don’t know,” You trail off, biting your lower lip between your teeth lightly as you think. “I just wanted to go out and… feel a little more free. Have a little more fun. Let loose a little.” You responded finally, staring at your hands.
Jack and Robby once again share what feels like a meaningful glance between the two of them over your head as you continue to fiddle with your glass. You can feel your heartbeat pounding in your chest, your body hot all over. God, without the others in the booth to contribute to the conversation, you felt like you might suffocate under their attention.
Jack hums at this response, his fingers once again dragging lightly along your exposed skin along your shoulder. You’re left in silence for a moment, your words, their implications hanging in the air in front of the three of you.
Robby let out a hum, rumbling low in his chest.
“Well, did you?” Robby asked from your side.
“Did I what?” You responded, confused, looking at him.
“Let loose. Have fun.” Robby answered, leaning into your space a little further. You don’t shrink away - there’s nowhere to go, not with Jack on your other side, nearly shoved against your side.
“Uhm, yes.” You answer, blinking a few times, caught off-guard by it. “I think so.”
“If you have to think about it, I don’t think you achieved your goal, sweetheart.” Robby said, a chuckle low on his breath, the promise of… something in his tone. You swept your gaze to meet his nervously, his eyes trained dark and intent on your face.
“Any way we could help, Red?” Jack asked, his voice low and rasping in your ear.
Your eyes sweep over to his face, expecting to meet his hazel eyes, but instead find him staring at your lips, a charming, cocky grin pulling at the corner of his mouth.
His fingers skated along your shoulder purposefully now, drawing lazy, burning patterns into your skin, his own thigh pressed tight against yours. You were pinned between them, nearly overwhelmed by their presence in the booth.
You clench your thighs tighter together, a deep, burning desire burning low in your gut. You bite your lip again, worrying the soft flesh between your teeth as your gaze flickers back and forth between the two older, gorgeous men, and decide for the second time tonight to be bold.
“This could work.” You murmured, abandoning your glass on the table to put a hand tentatively on Robby’s thigh, leaning further into Jack’s side.
Jack drops his arm onto your shoulders fully and tugs you closer purposefully. You feel Robby’s large hand land on top of yours, flipping over your hand and running his fingers along your pulse point. They trail a path of burning fire in their wake.
“Yeah?” Jack asked, the grin spreading across his lips now. You nod, a smile of your own tugging at your lips as you look up at him through your lashes.
“Finish your drink, baby.” Robby leaned in, whispering in your ear. “Then we can take you home.”
You feel a giddy, nervous smile pull at your cheeks as you pick up your glass, consider it for a moment, and downed the rest of the liquid in it in one go. You could barely feel the bitter bite of the alcohol over the heat already pouring through your veins.
“Good girl.” Jack murmured from your left, the words adding to the fire in your blood, your core clenching at the praise.
Jack slides over and stands from the booth, the sudden loss of his body heat letting you take in what you felt was your first full breath since sitting down. He offers you his hand once standing, that same cocky curl to his smile.
You take a quick breath and reach for his hand, standing up and out of the booth as Robby follows close behind, standing behind you and dwarfing you with his size. You knew it.
Jack doesn’t let go of your hand, his hungry gaze roving over you for a moment before making eye contact with Robby behind you. You feel Robby’s large, warm hand come to rest at the small of your back, his touch electrifying.
You look up at Robby, his frame towering over you, breath hitching as you realize just how big he is. As Jack turns to lead you through the crowd of people, Robby smiles down at you wolfishly, offering his own wink at you, his hand gently pushing at your back as you wind through people.
With each step you take towards the door, you feel your nerves ratchet up, both excited and nervous for whatever was to come.
While you were feeling brave tonight, you were only human. As you approached the exit, you realized you desperately wanted a moment alone to freshen up, check yourself over and give yourself a pep talk for what you were about to do. For what you were hoping they were going to do to you.
“Do you mind if I go to the washroom quickly before we leave?” You ask, the words rushing out of you, practically having to shout to be heard over the pop song blaring over the speakers.
Jack looks back at you, taking in your slightly wide eyes amusedly, before letting go of your hand and gesturing to the washrooms down a small hallway, stopping at the mouth of it, Robby coming to stand beside him.
Shimmying slightly as you pulled the scrap of fabric that was passing as your skirt over your ass, you gave Jack and Robby a dazzling smile and promised to be right back.
The look they shared after watching you saunter away from them, your ass shaking seemingly purposefully with each step, led to where you are right now.
You’d maybe taken a bit too long. Perhaps a suspicious amount of time in the single stalled washroom, fixing up your makeup, your hair, and trying not to freak out with what was being offered to you on two very hot, very silver platters.
In fact, you have no idea how much time has passed before you hear a knock at the door, just barely audible over the thumping of the music outside. You freeze in the middle of your muttered speech to yourself.
“Sweetheart? You alive in there?” You hear a voice ask through the wood, a mix of curiosity and humour in his voice.
You feel your cheeks flush, all of a sudden self-conscious for how long you’d been preening, and, well, panicking.
You turn from the mirror quickly, throwing your perfume back in your purse after having just reapplied it, and scrambled for the door. When you throw it open with a sheepish smile, you nearly freeze in your spot, the music immediately swelling into the space and contributing to the nearly suffocating feeling in your chest.
Both Jack and Robby were leaning in the doorway, once again, blocking you in with their overwhelming presence. Jack had that cocky smile on his face again, his head tilted as he looked you over appreciatively. Robby on the other hand, had his arms across his chest, scratching at his beard and staring at you with dark eyes.
“Thought maybe you were gonna run away, but you were just in here making yourself all pretty for us, weren’t you?” Robby asked, that same wolfish smile you’d caught a glimpse of reappearing on his face.
“You’re gorgeous, baby.” He murmured, taking a step into the washroom, his hulking frame once again crowding yours.
He walked you backwards until your back hit a cool brick wall behind you, both hands coming up to cradle the sides of your face, saving you from smacking your head into the brick behind you and pulling you into a breath-stealing kiss.
Robby groans at the contact of your soft, plush lips, mouth moving feverishly against yours, his large frame pressing into you, your nerves alight and head dizzy. With Robby’s tongue licking possessively into your mouth, you barely realize the door has been closed, the music immediately lowering to a steady thumping, nearly matching the pace of your heart.
You gasp into the kiss, melting into Robby’s large frame as you throw your arms around his neck, pulling him towards you, your mouths meeting desperately.
“Hey, quit hogging her.” Jack rasps, his voice low and dragging on something raw.
You’d almost forgotten that there was another person here while Robby was kissing you like this. Robby pulled back from your lips with a satisfied smile, giving you one more languid kiss before he spun the two of you around so that you were standing in the middle of the cramped space, Robby now leaning on the wall.
Robby took one of your hands in his, giving it a soft kiss, and spun you around in a lazy circle in front of him, grabbing your hips and dragging you back against his broad chest.
His lips kiss at the side of your neck, stopping to lick and nibble at the pulse point. Stubble scratches your skin softly, and you let out a dreamy sigh at the feeling, heat rising in your core at the warm, pleasant feeling of his lips on your skin.
“She likes it when you do that, Robby.” Jack said quietly, hazel eyes sweeping across your face. “She gets a starry look in her eyes with your mouth on her.”
You feel your face flush under Jack’s scrutiny, his observations bordering on clinical as he watches your chest heave and eyes glaze over at Robby’s touch.
Robby chuckled, continuing his languid assault on your neck, taking his time as he mapped out your flesh with his tongue. You feel your breath hitch when one of his large palms skates up the side of your torso, reaching up and squeezing at both of your breasts through your dress.
You lift your hazy gaze to Jack, seeing that he was seemingly content to stand and watch you for now.
Robby’s hands were palming your tits more roughly now, his kisses on your neck gaining heat, licking up the side of your neck sloppily, the whiskers of his beard scraping your soft skin. He grabbed the neckline of your dress and pulled down, the spaghetti straps falling down your shoulders easily, your tits spilling out the top with a gasp.
“Driving us crazy with this dress, Red.” Robby exhaled from behind you, a hand running across your chest and fingers at your nipples roughly, your own arms coming up to grasp his to anchor yourself.
“Glad you like it.” You breathed a laugh, leaning back against Robby’s broad chest, staring at Jack, a soft challenge in your eyes.
In response, Robby returns his hand to your hips, rolling his hips into yours, his erection already straining at the denim he was wearing. Your skirt was short enough that you could feel the roughness of the fabric practically rubbing at your panties, making you let out a weak sigh.
“Oh I like it,” Jack murmured in affirmation across from you, standing from his current spot, taking a few steps towards you, and stopping a few inches away. “You look fucking sinful in it.”
You gave a shy smile in response, looking through your eyelashes at Jack and pushing your chest towards him. He let out a scoffing laugh and closed the distance between you, crowding you and effectively sandwiching you between the two men, grabbing your hand and guiding it to the rapidly growing tent in his jeans.
Robby’s slow, methodical kisses had grown more passionate, licking, sucking and biting at your neck, sure to leave bruises in the morning. He continued to rock his hips against yours, one large hand anchoring your hips exactly where he wanted them, the other holding your tit in his hand, pinching and pulling at your nipple.
You were panting now, Robby’s hands on your body, Jack’s intense focus on you and their overwhelming presence nearly short-circuiting you.
They’d barely touched you yet, but you were hot all over, pussy surely drooling in your skimpy underwear, a pulsing already in your veins. Your mouth was open in a soft ‘o’, your exhales coming in breathy pants as Jack leaned down to kiss you.
His mouth slotted over yours hungrily, tongue licking at your mouth and eating up the soft sounds you were making. He lifted one hand to tangle in your hair messily, dragging you deeper into the kiss, Robby’s heavy breaths and touch a steady buzz low in your veins.
His other hand reached up to your breast, massaging it for a moment before pinching and rolling your nipples between his fingers, as he licks up the wanton mewls you were letting out now. When he finally pulls back from you, his eyes are dark, and his lips shiny with spit.
“You’re fucking perfect, baby.” Jack mumbled against your lips, kissing you again deeply, hot and wet and promising.
His hand leaves your breast to skate down your tummy, his fingers quickly finding the hem of your dress, and accidentally brushes your molten hot core roughly, causing you to jump. The dress is a lot shorter than he thought.
Jack lets out a curse below his breath, his head shaking as he kisses you furiously. When his fingers started rubbing back and forth along your clothed sex, you let out a mewling whine, leaning further into Robby.
“Lift your leg up, pretty girl.” Robby said gruffly from behind you, his mouth leaving your neck with a wet pop. “Open up for us.”
His large hand on your hip moving to lift your thigh, placing your foot on the lid of the closed toilet seat, giving Jack much easier access to you.
He skated his finger along the seam of your clothed cunt a few more times before pulling your underwear to the side and running his fingers along your bare sex, lighting your nerve endings on fire.
“She’s fucking wet, man.” Jack said, his chest nearly pressed up against yours, crowding your space and pressing you further into Robby, further into the hard-on currently pressed against your ass.
You bucked your hips forward in response, pushing yourself closer to Jack, his fingers spreading your slick across your cunt and sinking two fingers in, knuckle deep without warning. The unexpected intrusion makes you keen, a high, wanting sound leaving you as you clench around him. Jack pumped his thick digits a few times experimentally, taking the breath right out of you with each crook of his fingers.
“Fuck sweetheart, you’re practically soaking my hand.” Jack growled, dropping to his knees on the grimy tiled bathroom floor, hooking his arm around your raised thigh and dragging your pussy to his mouth.
There’s no preamble to it as he licks up and down your slit a few times, pressing firm and spreading his tongue to your center before focusing his attention on your clit, sucking loudly. You leaned your head back against Robby’s shoulder, eyes scrunched shut and mouth open in a pant, fire licking at your bones as Jack kisses you, pumping his fingers in deep.
Robby chuckled, the sound reverberating in your chest, his hands kneading at your chest languidly, your hands gripping his forearms with an iron grip of your own.
“God you look good getting your pussy eaten.” Robby groaned, low in your ear. “So soft, so pretty. Such a good girl.”
Your eyes pop open as you moan at this, staring at the ceiling unseeingly. The words go directly to your core, your cunt fluttering around Jack’s fingers with the praise, his lips pressing soft, wet kisses to your most intimate parts.
“Fuck she liked that.” Jack rasped from below, his voice sounding wrecked. “Her pussy’s clenching around my fingers right now.”
“You like being called a good girl?” Robby asked you, his voice low and intense next to your ear.
One of his hands grasped your chin, turning your face towards his, dark brown eyes meeting your own bleary eyes. You nod at him, mouth open, a fire starting to build in your belly, stoked by their actions, their words, their intensity.
“Yeah you do,” Robby groaned, rutting his hips against your ass, moving in time with the rhythm you were chasing with your own hips. “Want you to show me how good you look cumming in his mouth, baby. Be good for us, yeah?”
“F-fuck, Robby- Jack-” You cry, your hand flying to the back of Jack’s head, fingers winding into the silver curls at the nape of his neck. “I’m close, I’m gonna-” You whined, grinding your hips desperately in time with his kisses and fingers. Jack moans against your pussy at this, latching his lips around your clit and sucking, fingers curling deep and fast.
“Come on, baby. Cum for us.”
The heat burning in your veins, their closeness, them - everything rushed into a peak at once, the pleasure snapping and ricocheting through your body.
You let out a low moan, closing your eyes as your orgasm pulses through you in waves, clenching rhythmically around Jack’s fingers and rutting your hips against his face. Jack fucks you through it, letting out a moan of his own as you cum on his expert hands and tongue. He only slows his assault on your sex when you start to shift away from his fingers, overstimulated and hot.
“That was by far the hottest thing I’ve ever seen.” Robby breathed, leaning down and capturing you in another searing kiss, his own hips having slowed their rhythm. You can still feel his thick erection grinding at your ass.
Robby captures you in a kiss that is all teeth, passion and panting mouths, groaning into your mouth as you lean into him fully, going pliant after the orgasm they’d just pulled out of you.
Jack chuckled, replacing your underwear giving your now clothed sex a kiss. You jolt at the feeling, letting out a shaky laugh as he moved your leg off the toilet seat, wiping at his face with the back of his forearm as he rose from his position on the floor.
Jack rises to his full height, giving you that same cocky smirk, amusement glinting dark in his eyes. He leans in and gives you a slow, deep kiss, tangling his tongue with yours, massaging and soothing.
You feel Robby’s hands rise from your waist, pulling the top of your dress and covering you up, skating the spaghetti straps over your shoulder as Jack kisses you blind.
When you pull back for air, Jack’s thumb reaches up to caress your swollen, spit-slicked bottom lip. Giving you a considering once-over, staring at your bruise flesh and heaving chest.
"You're gonna want to wear Robby's jacket home sweetheart." Jack breathed, diving back in to kiss you again.
@onanistblood i promise More is coming, this just came out first !!!
and What If i said i was counting down the minutes at work so that I can finish my rabbot fic …. what if i said that it’s nearly 5K and we haven’t even gotten spicy yet …. 👀👀👀
tags: Jack Abbot x Reader, smut, P w the ghost of a P, unprotected piv, handcuffs (practically forgotten about, whoops), thigh riding, spanking, degradation, praise, denial, mean!dom Jack, and then soft!dom Jack, this got away from me oh boy
It was Jack, initially, that had brought up the idea of handcuffs.
You were game to try most things with Jack, happy to test out new and exciting things with your lover. You wouldn’t lie though, you were a bit disappointed at the idea of not being able to touch him whenever you wanted. You liked to touch, to taste. Savour every feeling and sound that ground its way out.
After he fucked you through your mattress with your wrists pinned above your head, huffing promises of I’ll take care of you, I’ll make it so good, you’re such a good pretty little thing, you realized you were rather willing to try it out.
For whatever reservations you had, the idea of being completely restrained made a thrill run up your spine, nerves already on red alert. Quite frankly, whenever Jack did anything you were game, each interaction leaving you a blushing mess. At this point it was starting to get embarrassing.
This probably isn’t what he had intended.
“Fuck- if you don’t let me out of these fuckin-” Jack practically snarled, his voice low and gravelly.
His shoulders pitched forward a bit, his entire frame leaning towards you and away from the chair he’s currently cuffed to. You sat in front of him, on your soft bed, watching with your head tilted as he seemingly tried to break out of them.
You had suggested going to a sex shop and finding a fluffy pair there, but no, Jack Abbot, in all of his dangerous hobbies, magically had a real pair laying around somewhere.
Bet he regrets that now.
You had distracted him - played dirty if you will. You had sat him down in the chair in the corner of your room and promised to make him feel good. You did, taking him slow and deep into your mouth, his hands fisting in your hair and watching as you sucked his cock.
Maybe part of the reason you were able to take him by surprise the way you did was because he didn’t think you had it in you. Up to this point, you’d been more than soft and pliant with him. If you were to get in trouble, it was often your sharp tongue.
Somehow, someway, you had distracted him enough to cuff his hands behind his back, the handcuffs themselves looping through the arm of the chair.
“Baby” Jack muttered, pulling you out of your reverie. “You’re killing me here. Let me out.”
Drawing a deep breath, you smile tentatively at him and shake your head disjointedly, your own heartbeat thudding in your ears.
“Not yet,” You nearly whisper, your voice filled with air. Staring at him through your lashes, you continue your movements, rocking your fingers in and out of yourself at an achingly slow pace, your core already on fire.
Jack breathes low and slow, eyes locked on you, as his chest and arms flexed as he pulled against his restraints.
You let your eyelids flutter shut, your other hand coming up to your breast and kneading it in your hand softly eliciting your own muted gasp. You can tell that his gaze dropped back to your hands - watching you roam over your own body - from the swear he lets out, the telltale clink of his cuffs shuffling with each movement he makes.
You’d been working yourself over since getting him cuffed, hands roaming over your soft skin and supple curves under his intense, lust-blown gaze.
Fingers just barely brushing a spot inside you that made you gasp, your eyes pop open again, breath hitching in your throat at the view in front of you. Jack’s expression was wrecked his mouth open in a soft pant, eyes locked on your core as he watched you slowly fuck yourself open on your fingers.
“Oh fuck,” Jack groaned low, eyes flicking up meet yours before before focusing on your dripping cunt again, watching it greedily swallow your fingers. You felt like your blood was nearly boiling. “Did that feel good, pretty girl?”
Nodding shakily, you push your fingers in as deep as you can again, trying and failing spectacularly to reach that same spot inside you, mewling in disappointment when you fail.
“Want to feel good baby? Is that it?” He asked, voice now lethal in its intensity. Nodding again, you start to move your fingers a bit quicker, driving them into yourself with more force and making your toes curl in the process.
“Use your thumb. Across your clit. Come on.” He commanded, his erection was painfully neglected, hard and long, the head of his dick shiny with precum and your spit. You’re sure that had to be bordering on painful and thought absentmindedly that you were gonna have to take care of that later.
Nerve endings on fire, your entire body strung tight and begging for release already, you swipe your thumb over your clit, the jolt of pleasure making your legs jump in place. Gasping, you do it again, still trying to drive your fingers deeper, deeper still, trying to hit your g-spot again.
“Not enough, baby?” Jack groaned quietly, his own chest heaving with the effort to take in breath.
Jesus. When did it get this hot? Your own lungs on fire, you drew in another tight breath, feeling like you were drowning, the air muggy and tense and hot. So so fucking hot.
“Not the same as your fingers Jack.” You respond breathily. “Not big enough.”
“Baby - oh fuck - let me out and I’ll reach all the spots you can’t, yeah?” He husks, his voice dripping syrupy sweet like honey. Pulse rushing in your own ears, you nod tentatively, withdrawing your fingers, the slick that covered your cunt and thighs glistening on your own fingers.
Standing up unsteadily, you take the few steps towards him on shaky legs, feeling his white-hot gaze resting on your entirely naked form. Placing your hands on his shoulders delicately, your slick staining your fingers, you lower yourself into his lap.
“You gonna play nice if I let you out?” You ask breathily, speaking against Jack’s lips as you lean in to kiss him. He meets your lips in a clash of teeth and desperation, licking, biting and kissing you.
“Oh, like you have?” Jack asks with a strained laugh, moving to leave hot, open-mouthed kisses against your neck as you shuffle in his lap, rolling your hips until you are rocking your slit back and forth against his cock. Jack’s laugh dies with a groan that rumbles from deep in his chest.
“Oh I think I’m playing very nice right now,” You respond with an airy laugh, your breath catching when the head of his dick rubs up against your clit. You reach down with your hand and pump him a few times, squeezing the head of his cock just to get a reaction.
The breath that wheezes out of him sounds like it was ripped from somewhere deep and dark. Jack stared at you, his gaze dark and hungry. His next sentence leaves him in a near growl.
“Will you please take the fucking cuffs off baby.”
He leans forward, crowding you on his lap with his broad chest, causing you to tighten your grip around his shoulders. His arms are bulging at his sides, the muscles straining against his restraints behind him. You don’t get the opportunity to respond before he kisses you breathless, all tongue, and heat and wetness. Jack licks into your mouth, lips moving against yours, his freckled chest pressed up against yours, brushing against your nipples and driving you nearly mad.
When you pull back for air, Jack continues his ministrations on your jaw, leaving hot wet kisses across your skin, leading down your neck, laving you in his attention.
You exhale a shaky laugh, your hand reaching from his shoulder to the dresser beside you, shaky fingers reaching for the silver key. Jack doesn’t let up his assault on your skin, licking and kissing his way back up your neck to stop to nibble your ear.
“Since you asked me so nicely.” You smiled cheekily in response, your breaths still heaving in your chest.
With the key in hand, you shifted on his lap to lean past Jack’s broad frame, straddling one thigh instead of his whole lap. Fuck, he was big. With the change in your position, you were able to innocently brush your naked core against the strong muscle of his thigh. The friction on your clit made your breath catch, your reach faltering for a moment before reaching around to the silver cuffs around Jack’s wrists, who had gone entirely still underneath you. His hands were fisted, his knuckles starting to turn white.
The moment before you turn the key in the lock of his right hand, you feel a bubble of … fear? Anticipation? You weren’t sure why, but you could feel nerves zipping along your skin at the thought of what Jack would do once he had his hands free.
“Thank you, baby.” He coos, his voice scraping rough and low in your ear.
You decided you wanted to find out. You turned the key, a small click sounding it’s release the only sound other than your combined heavy breaths.
Before you can move, breathe, or even think to unlock his left hand, Jack’s hands surge from behind him, anchoring themselves on your hips and pulling you down harshly until your core once again rests against his muscled thigh, the pressure unbearable, but not enough at the same time. You can feel the cool metal of the handcuffs dangling at your side, goosebumps rising on your skin in response.
You suck in a surprised breath, eyes widening as you meet Jack’s gaze, your hands now back on his shoulders. Gone was the controlled, desperate desire you saw, instead replaced by a ferocity and a mean curl to the smirk on his lips.
“I don’t think you were very nice at all.” Jack rasps out, his brows pulled low over his eyes. “I think you were being fuckin mean.”
You open your mouth to respond, but your quick retort dies on your lips as Jack rocks you back and forth across his thick thigh, grinding your pussy against the muscle. You can feel how wet you are, your slick spreading across his freckled thigh, your core clenching emptily and cheeks warming at the feeling. Desire burned low and thick in your belly.
“And now, I think it’s my turn.”
Jack squeezes your hips once, tenses the muscle under you, and grinds your core harder against his leg, picking up the pace as you feel your pussy clench and drip all over him, your clit buzzing with the friction.
“J-Jack-” You start, your face warm and lids low over your eyes as you meet his burning gaze.
“What? Think I didn’t notice you grinding your pretty pussy against me earlier? Like I’m not gonna do it again until you wanna cum all over my thigh?”
The breath goes out of you at this, your pussy clenching against the hard muscle of his thick leg. His erection sat neglected, his own pleasure abandoned to put his focus entirely on you.
“I felt that.” Jack smirked at you, before returning to his earlier assault on your neck.
The kisses were rougher this time, licking and biting across your skin, sucking bruises into your collarbone and upper chest, wherever he could reach from his current position. The bites are sharp, his breath rough against your skin, spit-slicked and hot.
You hold the back of Jack’s head, fingers tangling through the salt and pepper strands at the nape of his neck. Your mouth is open in a soft ‘o’, your breath hitching as heat continues to build in your core. The heat of the moment, the idea of you grinding against his thigh wantonly, makes the beginnings of your climax start to lick at your spine.
Jack leaned back from you for a moment, staring you down with an arched eyebrow in mock disapproval as his hands continued to work you over his lap, the cool chain of the cuffs sliding against your soft skin.
“You’re making such a fucking mess baby.” he chuckled, gravelly and low. “I can feel how warm you are, your pussy is fucking drooling all over me. So dirty, baby. I should make you clean it up.”
You give a hummed moan in response, grinding your hips back and forth desperately, in time with his hands. You lift your gaze to his, the hazy feeling of your orgasm buzzing deep in your bones. You can feel it growing, burning hot and low, desperate for release.
“What?” He cooed mockingly, his gaze dark with lust. “You close pretty girl? You gonna cum just like this?”
“Mhmm,” You nod quickly, your eyes starting to droop, head tilting back as you feel the waves of pleasure starting to rise.
“Too bad.” Jack said flippantly from below you, his iron grip on your hips stopping you in your place. Your eyes pop open from above, snapping your gaze down to him in confusion as he stares up at you with one brow raised. You feel your pussy pulse a few times, the pleasure that was starting to boil now fading away, instead simmering deep.
“Wha?” You ask disorientedly, your hips trying to buck against him a few times, useless against the strength of his grip.
“I said too bad.” Jack said, his tone dark and playful.
Your brows furrow low over your eyes, mouth turning down in a frown as you meet his gaze again. You were close and you wanted it so badly. You wanted him to give it to you.
“But Jack-”
“Don’t whine.” He cut you off shortly, a frown crinkling his brow. “You lock me up, torture me, and then want me to make you cum in my lap? Fat chance baby.”
At this, your frown deepens, and you scoff slightly. You push on his shoulders as if to get out of his lap, worked up enough that you intended to now finish this yourself if you had to. Jack did not let up on his grip at all, and feeling you try to get out of his lap, he scoffs himself, dragging you towards him so that you’re now chest to chest in the chair.
“And where do you think you’re going?” He asks incredulously.
“To take care of myself if you won’t.” You answer petulantly, pushing at his shoulders once again, trying and failing to get up from his lap, your pussy still pulsing from your ruined orgasm.
Jack swore underneath his breath, shaking his head disbelievingly at you.
“You are such a brat sometimes.”
Opening your mouth to protest this, Jack swept you into one of his arms, shifting forward in the chair, before essentially tackling you to the floor. You dropped onto your bottom, while he fell a little more gracefully overtop of you with an uncoordinated humph.
“Hey!” You protested to, well, all of it.
Jack shifted onto his knees in front of you, climbing over top of you quickly and caged you in with his arms. He dropped his hips low, grinding up against your core again, your legs coming to rest quickly around his hips, yours grinding against him in tandem.
“Impatient, dirty, little brat. Can’t believe you’d use my own gear on me.” He rasped in your ear, your own lips turning to kiss his neck, tasting the sweat and salt on his skin for a moment before he pulled back from you, the weight of him leaving your chest. “And on top of it all, you were mean.”
You lean up to protest, following him as he withdraws from overtop of you. You were desperate for a kiss, a touch, something from him, but are met with his right hand, free of the cuffs, pushing you to lay back down. You looked up at him, resting on your elbows, as he stares you down from between your legs, your kiss-swollen lips, soft, slick skin and glassy, open eyes.
You feel your cheeks darken as he stares down at your center, dark and weeping and empty. Jack skates his hand down from your chest, resting on your mound solidly, thumb brushing through your soft curls and barely brushing where you need him most. He was finally gonna take care of you.
You take in a soft breath in, anticipating his touch, when instead you are met with a slap to your inner thigh, inches away from your core, making you clench.
You yelp at the touch, skin stinging where it had landed. Your breath catches on the next inhale as Jack slaps your other thigh in the exact same spot, your pussy clenching again, legs drawing together but stopped by Jack’s broad shoulders. The sensitive skin of your inner thighs is burning with the hits, the fire burning in your belly growing hotter.
“Fuck. You liked that.” Jack rasped brokenly from above you, still staring at your weeping sex.
Two more sharp slaps are delivered, one on each thigh, this time, much closer to your pussy. You nearly sit straight up this time, gasping as each hit lands, your skin burning, stinging and pulsing with red hot desire. Your mouth is open in a pant, staring at him, chest heaving.
Jack looks up at you for a second, giving you a wolfish grin, before landing his next slap directly on your pussy. A bright stinging pain pulses across your core, a broken moan leaving your lips, the pain and pleasure of it making you clench around nothing.
Jack swore under his breath again, his voice low and growly as he watched you react, his gaze now directly on your face, intense, dark, and nearly feral with lust.
Jack delivered two more spanks on your pussy in quick succession, the pain and pleasure burning brighter with each slap. You keen high at this, breaking off in a half-moan half-sob, your voice filled with air.
“Jack,” you cry, hips shifting beneath him, squirming under his rough touch.
Jack leaned down for a moment and gave a soft kiss to your lower belly, running his fingers lightly along your weeping slit, still pulsing from the last slap he gave it.
“You are without a doubt, the prettiest thing I have ever seen.” Jack groaned against your skin, kissing down your belly, until he placed one soft, wet and slow kiss against your clit. You moan openly at this, your mouth falling open at the same time as your legs.
You’re hot all over, desire wrapped around your entire being, wanting desperately for Jack to give you more, to quench this fire that was burning you alive.
Jack lifted his face away from you once more, looking up at you from between your thighs. You can see your slick on his chin already, having barely paid attention to your core yet. It would probably embarrass you, if you weren’t so turned on you thought you might die.
“So,” slap, “fucking,” slap, “pretty.” slap.
Three quick spanks are delivered to your sensitive core, emphasizing each of his words, the heavy stinging making tears jump into your eyes, your knees attempting to close as Jack holds you open to him. You might actually be crying at this point, your breath heaving, blood at a near boiling point.
You choke out some sort of needy sob that Jack practically coos in response to, shifting his weight to one arm and answering your cry with returning his soft wet mouth to your abused core.
“You gonna be nice now?” He asked huskily, eyebrows still raised cockily as he met your teary gaze. You nodded hurriedly, desperate for relief, desperate for him to do something more, something nice, something to you.
“Good,” He hummed with a smile before kissing you.
Jack practically makes out with your pussy - giving soft kisses and licks, replacing the sharp pain with a warm pleasure. You’re hyperventilating at this point, your breaths coming in little gasps, occasionally moaning out his name. You watch as he closes his eyes, kisses and licks and sucks at your clit softly, wetly, and moans into you.
The fire from earlier, one that had been stoked and building slowly since you had clasped the cuffs behind his backs begins to lick at your belly again. You reached out one hand to clasp the hair at the back of his head, leaning on one elbow, and pulled at the roots of his silver strands.
Jack moans into you at this, now using his tongue to fuck into you rhythmically, your hips now rocking against his face. You feel your orgasm once again approaching, building into something deeper, hotter and more relentless than before.
“Oh.” You say quietly, mouth still hanging open, brows furrowed. “Oh, baby, please-” You start to say, your request getting lost somewhere along the way when Jack’s eyes met yours. They burned brightly from where he was settled, trapping you in the intensity of his gaze.
He barely pulled away from your core before grumbling low, his lips moving against yours. “Yeah. Yeah, go ahead.”
Jack dove back into his task, his attention increased tenfold, mouth moving messily and greedily across your cunt as your thoughts began to unravel. He sucks at your clit, eyes still locked on yours, pupils blown wide with lust as you roll your hips against his face. Your eyes nearly roll back in your head when he finally pushes two thick fingers deep inside of you, rocking them in time with your hips.
The heat, the soft kiss of his lips, his fingers hitting deep and the feeling of him groaning against your weeping sex was all too much - the pleasure building until you could feel it buzzing and zipping along your nerves finally crashed into you.
Your orgasm hit you like a train, taking your breath away entirely as it finally washed over you, your toes curling with the intensity. You choked out a sob of Jack’s name, your grip tightening in his hair as your core pulsed with each wave, clenching tight around his two fingers. Jack continued to kiss and lick at you, his fingers pushing deep as it rocked through you, subsiding slowly.
When your grip finally slackens in his hair, he withdraws his fingers and slows his mouth on your core, his kisses now trailing up your belly and your chest, stopping to lave his tongue repeatedly across both of your nipples, a satisfied sigh leaving your lips at this.
He has you caged in his arms again, elbows braced on the floor next to your head, the weight of his body pressing down warm and comforting against you. You wrap your legs around his waist immediately, his thick, heavy, cock rubbing against your core, making Jack hiss as he kisses his way up to you.
His kisses deepen as they trail up your neck, before he reaches your mouth and captures you in a searing kiss. You can feel your slick on his face, salty and musky as he pushes his tongue in your mouth and claims you with his.
When Jack finally pulls back slowly, you open your eyes blearily, blinking up at him and chasing his lips with your own.
“You okay?” He whispered against your lips, giving you a few softer, deeper kisses. His pupils were still blown with lust, but you could see the concern in his gaze, the worry that maybe he had taken things too far.
You let out a soft laugh, the sound breathy and high.
“Yeah baby, I’m good.” You wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled him down for another deep, hot kiss. “I’m more than good.”
“Mmm,” Jack hummed low, leaning down to kiss your neck. “Good. My good girl.” He said, his hips grinding against yours, his cock jumping at the feeling of your wet, weeping core. Your breath catches in your chest at his motions, brows pulled high, your kiss-swollen lips parting on a pant.
“Baby please, I want you.” You whisper against his lips, rocking your hips with his. “I want you to fuck me. I want to make you feel good.” You release your grip on his neck, instead reaching between you two and wrapping your hand around his angry, weeping cock, and notch it at your entrance.
Jack’s mouth drops open in a groan above you, his hips rocking forward slowly as he sinks himself into your core. His head dropped into the crook of your neck as he rocked his hips shallowly. He was big, long and thick, and had to work himself inside you slowly, for both your sakes.
As he finally seats himself inside you, your breath punches out of you in a wheeze, the feeling of him hitting deep and hot in your belly. The pleasure that had crashed into you at near lightspeed earlier begins to rumble once again as you stretch and squeeze around his dick.
“Sweetheart,” He pants against your skin, kissing your collarbone. “You feel fucking perfect.”
Your hands are wrapped around his shoulders once again, reaching up to tug at the back of his hair, pulling his face towards you as he starts to rock his hips back and forth against yours, dragging deep and hot inside of you.
Your mouths collide in a flurry, each kiss desperate and full of desire as Jack’s hips find their rhythm, your own hips rising to meet his thrusts. Jack pants against your mouth, licking at your lips as rising moans escape you, his cock hitting deep and hard against your g-spot.
“Fuck baby,” You gasp, eyes flying open, meeting his immediately. “Fuck right there, right there-” You repeat breathily as his hips snap against yours, your fingernails digging into his freckled shoulder. Jack breathes a laugh that breaks off into a moan into your mouth, rocking back and forth against you with mounting desperation.
“Yeah?” Jack asks, his voice wrecked and raw, rising on one of his hands, leaning away from your torso a tad before grabbing the back of your neck with his other hand.
“Right there?” He asks, making you stare down at where he thrust into you, your pussy wet and practically sucking his cock in as his hips pistoned back and forth. Your eyes really do roll back in your head at this, your second orgasm of the night approaching with an intensity that was making your eyes water anew.
“So fucking good baby,” he rasped, staring you down with an intense gaze, his pupils blown. “Feel so fucking good, taking it so fucking good. Gonna cum deep inside this pretty pussy.”
“Jack, jack, jack, yes, please, please-” You start nearly chanting as the pleasure reaches a fever pitch once again, your climax ripping hard and blinding through you at his words.
You moan low and chokingly, pussy spasming around his cock hard as pleasure licks at you like fire, the waves of it rolling hard and fast. Jack swallows up your moans with his own mouth as he fucked you through your orgasm, your pussy pulsing repeatedly.
“Fuck, fuck, that’s it.” Jack groaned, his hips slamming into yours, the rhythm starting to falter as his own orgasm approached.
You bit your lip as you looked up at him through your glassy eyes, his brow drawn low over intense eyes, his mouth dropped open against yours and letting out growling, raspy pants as his hips pump a few more times before slamming into you for a final time, letting out a gasping low moan as he came deep inside of you.
Your foreheads knock against each other clumsily as you both come down from your respective highs, breaths panting into each other's mouths. You close your eyes and lay your head back on the floor, lips stretching into a lazy smile, a giddy laugh bubbling out of you, still a little breathless.
“What’s so funny, sweetheart?” Jack asked, leaning down and kissing at the corners of your smile. His low voice was curious, his own smile present in his tone.
“You tackled me.” You giggled, eyes popping open and meeting Jack’s soft gaze. “And then you fucked me on the floor. When we have a perfectly good bed right there.” You laughed again, hands now playing with his hair, running your fingers through their soft curls.
“Hmm.” Jack chuckled back, tilting his head as he looked down at you. “I couldn’t wait.” He said with a shrug, his own smile breaking out, leaning forward to give you a deep, slow kiss, each laugh that bubbled out of you swallowed whole.
He gave you a few more deep kisses, pulling out of you slowly as he did so, your core aching at his loss. He turned you both on your sides, laying beside you on the carpeted floor, your legs tangling together.
“I can’t believe you tricked me. You’re a wicked woman.” He whispered to you.
“Speaking of which,” he continued, holding his left arm in front of you, the handcuffs dangling from his wrist. “Do you know where the key might be?”
You laugh harder at this, your hand slapping to your mouth as a disbelieving, wild giggle bubbled up out of you.
“Oh my god. I have no idea.”
“I figured. Either we find it, or I have to call one of my SWAT buddies for their keys, and I’m not doing that.”
18+ content only!
1.1K
tags: Jack Abbot x Reader, age gap, smut, PWP, unprotected sex in uhm both spots
You had always thought that older men would be a bit slower in the bedroom.
Softer, sweeter, more vanilla. That maybe you’d have fewer fucks, or even help from a little blue pill if required. You didn’t mind - you knew it came with the territory. You liked older men. You liked your older man, and were happy with whatever you would get.
You weren’t expecting this.
You were on your knees on his bed, your face pushed into the pillows as you practically sob into them. Jack’s strong hands moved you as he pleased, one hand gripping your hip, the other pushing down between your shoulder blades and holding you against the mattress. The pillows did little to quiet you as Jack worked his cock in and out of you, slow and harsh.
You had lost your presence of mind somewhere around the second orgasm, pulled out of you with his mouth and fingers. You practically lost your grip on reality when he asked if he could fuck you in your ass.
“Fuuuck baby you’re tight.” Jack growled from above you, sawing his dick back and forth faster, finding out just how much you could take.
“You look fucking good like this.” He ground out, his large hand landing on your ass cheek with a loud crack. “So pretty I could take a picture.”
You gasped as his hand collided with you, lifting your head from the pillows as much as you could and craning your neck to look at him. You gaped up at him, breathy whines leaving you in time with his thrusts.
You knew Jack was well endowed, but he felt huge right now. He had spent time prepping you, stretching your tight hole slowly, murmuring sweet words against your hip the whole time. The first few minutes were uncomfortable, but had morphed into something hot, deep and aching in you.
“Yeah, that’s my girl,” Jack breathed as you made eye contact with him, a string of saliva connecting from your mouth to the bedsheets below.
You must look a mess right now, eyes glassy, hair in snarls, fucked dumb. Your mouth was open in a soft ‘o’, your breaths punching out as Jack’s hips collided with yours. You could feel that familiar fire building in your belly again, licking up your spine.
“Jaaack,” You whined, pushing back against his hips as best you could while being pressed into the mattress. You wanted more.
“What is it baby?” Jack chuckled, pressing hot, wet, open-mouthed kisses along your spine. Electricity followed their path, zipping across your skin and lighting your nerves on fire.
“What do you need?” Jack purred, leaning overtop of you, breathing into your ear and peppering kisses along your cheek.
With the position shift, Jack’s hips grind up against yours, bullying his cock deeper inside you. You gasped at the feeling, your hips rocketing away and back - not sure if you were running from the pleasure or chasing it.
“More.” You whimpered, pitifully.
You tried to seek out his lips with your own, but Jack drew back at your request, his hand releasing its hold on your upper back. You nearly choke at his absence after being nearly swallowed whole by his presence. Your hands scramble at the sheets to push your upper body up, to chase him wherever he’s decided to run off to.
This action is met with a hard crack to your ass, the flesh stinging where his hit lands. Jack pulls out of you slowly and carefully, a sharp hiss leaving him as he does it. The warm, full feeling you were growing obsessed with now replaced by an aching emptiness.
Before you can protest, Jack flips you over, laying you out on your back. Your chest heaves as you stare up at him, his silver curls mussed, cheeks red and eyes dark with lust.
“Calm down baby,” Jack muttered, re-situating himself between your legs, staring down at your weeping sex. “Just giving you what you asked for.”
He slaps his dick against your neglected pussy a few times, groaning when it makes you gasp and twitch. He uses your slick to pump himself a few times, staring at your gaping holes.
“So wet for me,” He whispers, his voice like gravel. You shiver when you feel his thumb run down the seam of your pussy lightly. “Think she’s jealous?”
Before you can even think of what to say, Jack is sliding back into your tight hole, your pussy pulsing above it, empty and wanting. Your heavy lids slide shut as he pushes forward, bottoming out as his hips meet yours. You take a shaky breath as you try to re-acquaint yourself with the feeling. WIth how big he is.
Your eyes fly open as Jack’s thumb slides along your slit again lightly, as he starts to rock his hips back and forth again.
You prop yourself up on your elbows to get a better look at him. He towers over you, his broad freckled chest covered in a sheen of sweat, left arming circling around your thigh and helping him rock you against him. His right fingers slowly run up and down your pussy, spreading your wetness anew. His brows are furrowed, pupils blown with lust as his gaze sweeps over you - your kiss-swollen lips, soft eyes, and tits bouncing softly.
“Need more, pretty girl?” He asked breathlessly, his hips snapping at a steady pace.
You nodded dumbly, hands gripping at the sheets at your side, eyes locked to his. You could feel fire lapping at your core, lightning at your nerves. You have a fleeting thought that he might actually fuck you dumb.
“Mm greedy,” He let out a laugh, hand abandoning your pussy to push on your chest, encouraging you to lay down flat again.
“My pretty, greedy girl.” He ground out, hand returning to your pussy once again.
This time, instead of soft pets, he slips two thick fingers inside of you, hooking up and pressing deep against something sensitive. He matches the punishing rhythm of his hips, working them in and out of you.
You let out a wet, strangled gasp when he does this, the feeling of fullness increasing tenfold. Your pussy is a mess, sucking his fingers in greedily, sloppy and loud with his movements.
“Oh fuck Jack- fuck,” You wailed, eyes rolling into the back of your head.
“Yeah,” He breathed out, staring down at your weeping pussy, stuffed full with his fingers, your ass stuffed full with his cock. So full of him. “She missed me.”
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i love the mandalorian cause its just side characters going “a mandalorian? I hear they’re the greatest warriors in the galaxy!” and then five minutes later you see din djarin get a grade three concussion
