Addy

♡ “dad, dad . . . you’re too big, please . . .” you moan into robby’s ear as he continues taking what’s his. no matter how many times he sneaks into your room at night, it’s always a struggle to take him. his large hands holds you against his chest, your chin perched on his shoulder.

♡ he lovingly rubs your back as his thrusts become a bit slower, “i’m sorry, sweetheart. just feel so good around me, can’t control myself.

♡ your eyes tear up at his word, “n-no, it’s okay, dad. i’m sorry for being mean.” you hiccup between your moans, becoming louder.

♡ “shhh, let dad take care of you. gotta be quiet, you don’t want your brother to wake up, right?”

♡ “no!” you whisper yell, holding onto dr. robby even tighter to quiet down the slapping of skin.

♡ “good girl.” he presses kisses on your shoulder.

♡ ever since frank moved back in to his dad’s place, he had to deal with an annoying banging sound almost every night. it comes from his sister’s bedroom but he is not allowed to go in there, considering there was a pink sign on your door that said, “NO BOYS ALLOWED, unless you’re daddy!”

♡ but he works at the hospital, while you’re hanging onto dad since he’s your only income. don’t you know that your dad and brother have to wake up early to save lives? so why should he have to deal with this? it’s affecting his performance!

♡ so, he gets up, not bothering to cover his boxers. this will be a quick scolding since dad treats you like a flower, something fragile.

♡ he’s about to turn the knob when he hears his dad’s. voice, “you don’t want your brother to wake up, right?” what is he doing in your room? what is he talking about?

♡ he opens the door to see you getting fucked by dad. your eyes are on him and he can hear you gasping, but frank puts a finger against his lips . . . shhh.

♡ you continue moaning and robby’s praising you, “yeah, you feel so good. such a good daughter for your daddy, huh? of course you are, made you myself.”

♡ frank’s cock hardens quickly at the praise, not sure which position he would rather be in. he palms his crotch through his boxers, desperately wanting to be touched. he makes eye contact with you as he takes his cock out, he definitely got robby’s genes. his hand is wrapped around it now, squeezing to prevent himself from cumming already.

♡ “ohh, you’re squeezing me real hard now, kid. feeling extra needy today, hm?”

♡ “hehe, yes, dad. i dunno why, just got even hornier all of a sudden.” you giggle as you continue to look at your brother.

♡ his shaky breaths are muffled from the bed shaking, his cock leaking pre cum onto the floor. he’s fucking his fist now, hand on the doorway to keep him stable.

♡ your eyes go down to his cock, his swollen red tip looking delicious. seeing it makes you drool, robby licks your chin before returning your spit back into your mouth with a sloppy kiss.

♡ frank spits onto his cock, imagining it being from you. he has to close his eyes and squeeze to stop himself again, hearing your wet cunt and robby’s groans makes him feel fuzzy.

♡ “hmm, such a messy girl.” robby murmurs. frank was looking down at his mess on the wooden floor at this point, pushing him to the edge.

♡ you watch as he cums onto the doorway, making your gummy walls pulse uncontrollably as you release on robby’s cock. “cumming, dad. oh my gosh, please don’t stop.”

♡ robby’s thrusts become faster as he rubs your sensitive bud, lovingly watching your face scrunch up as you try to ground yourself. “gonna make your old man cum like this, girl. should i do it inside of you, hm?”

♡ “yes, yes, pleaseeeee. want— need it so badly.” you babble as you look up at him and scan his hairy chest. you give your best performance, knowing that frank was still watching despite the cum dripping between his fingers.

♡ robby groans at your begging, “my little own porn star, can’t believe i raised such a slutty girl.” he admires your face as he cums deep inside of you.

♡ frank shuts the door softly, not bothering to clean the floor, before heading back into his room. he immediately takes off his boxers and cleans himself off with it, before putting on a new pair. he imagines you two cleaning each other up and cuddling in bed, maybe he should just go next door… three would be better than two!

a/n: getting grosser now ahhhhhh ! (⸝⸝⸝>﹏<⸝⸝⸝)

“oh, i know.” langdon coos, “biiigg stretch for me.”

he pushes in another inch every few minutes.

he had prepped you. held your favorite vibrator to your clit until you were shaking and rolling away.

he coated himself in lube.

but jesus christ.

langdon is simply a big guy. and he’s big everywhere.

“she’s sucking me in, baby. think you can take some more?”

“hnnn”

the experience just started and it’s already dizzying.

“you with me, baby?”

he cups your cheek, soothing his thumb over your cheekbone. it’s like being washed over by a wave. your muscles release a fraction.

“my girl. you’re with me.”

he smiles down at you and it’s impossible not to mirror.

he tucks some hair, messy from rubbing your head back and forth on the pillow, behind your ear.

your legs fall on their own, a tad farther down the mattress.

no more strain. your body is deciding;

oh. i want this. let me make it easier for us.

now, he fills you up effortlessly.

you moan and gasp into each others mouths, as if an incredible secret has just been unveiled.

“oh my god- frankie!”

if he bites his lip any more it’ll bleed.

you don’t really want your first time as a couple to be interrupted by bleeding; your thumb intervenes.

he chuckles appreciatively before kissing it.

“sorry, trying for this not to be over before it starts.”

“ill take the compliment.”

no telling how you two laid there.

after the overwhelm, you both just… soaked it in.

being so close to someone safe. a new hum ran through your body. you mentally planned what surface you wanted him to take you on next.

frank pets wherever he can reach.

after tracing your nipples, he booped each nipples. smiling at them all the while.

how dare he be this cute while inside you.

his index finger draws down down down.

in between your breasts. past your ribs, till a pleasant surprise.

contentment grew on his face.

“baby, look at that. i’m in your tummy”

“what?”

you’d been in a daze. eyes fixated on a thumbtack on the wall till all the colors and edges blended together.

you shift up on your elbows to share his view.

he guides your hand below your belly button.

“feel me here?”

“fuck. oh. yes, jesus - please-“

that was more than enough permission.

he had planned to have you slow and sensual.

real gentlemanly.

fuck that.

franks thrusting all 7 inches into you and you can’t get enough.

“auuhh! frankiiieeee,” you whine, “you’re so big. feels incredible.”

“yeah? this your speed?”

frank drops his mouth to your ear.

his breath makes your neck humid and your hair forms patterns flush against the skin.

“hard and fast? that’s what my girl likes?”

you could barely process his questions, let alone answer him.

he didn’t mind. it’s one more thing he found adorable about you.

aw, my girlfriend. getting fucked too good to communicate.

he slips an arm under your already arched back. bringing you to a place never explored before.

“haa!”

you grip his biceps.

“that’s right, pretty girl. let me hear about it.”

and hear about it he did. as well as your neighbors. oops.

“no one’s ever been this deep before,” you moaned out

“i know, baby, i know. doing such a good job for daddy.”

a tear escaped the corner on your eye.

franks back had become a canvas; your nails the utensils.

every scratch added fervor to how he was pounding your poor cunt.

“fuck, right there, frank. pleasepleaseplease-“

you tense up. body attempting to take a screenshot.

“beautiful.” he mutters under his breath.

he couldn’t take his eyes off you. as much as the pleasure tried to override his eyelids.

you’re too much of a view.

you just whimper in lieu of a verbal response, fingers grappling needily at frank’s forearm. robby sighs. he grabs your face and turns your head— “hey. look at me.”

When you finally meet Robby’s eye you’re pouting. You squirm under him as he fucks into you deep. “Frank doesn’t even care” you warble

“Yeah? You think so?” Robby chuckles and turns your head back to Frank, but this time pointedly at his crotch. There’s a clear bulge in his boxers. “Cause I think he just likes hearing you whine for him, honey.”

Your pout only intensifies. Dramatic tears sting your eyes. “But he’s ignoring me—ah! daddy—“ you’re interrupted when robby gives you a nice, hard thrust, “—tell him to stop!”

Robby chuckles and shakes his head in exasperation. “She’s bringing out the waterworks. Will you just hold her fucking hand, please?”

You barely let a beat pass before you’re crying out “Frankie!” again, now close to a sob

michael ' robby ' robinavitch

⭑.ᐟ sharing (ft. jack abbot)

⭑.ᐟ making you ride his thigh after a long work day

jack abbot

⭑.ᐟ fingering and overstim because you don't deserve to ride him yet

⭑.ᐟ waking you up and making you ride him when he gets home

frank langdon

⭑.ᐟ with his ring on

⭑.ᐟ eating you out before bed

dennis whitaker

⭑.ᐟ helping him out

It's now been a few weeks since you had your first time with Ilya, and it's been nothing short of wonderful. Intimate, slow, sweet sex whenever you want it. One evening, as you and Ilya were sitting in bed cuddling, he slowly turns to you. You feel his soft lips moving agaisnt yours in a warm kiss. Ilya's presses the half-smoked cigarette in his hand down into the ashtray beside the bed, and moves to cup your face. As the kiss deepens, your mind is elsewhere.

The first clear image that comes to your mind is nothing new to your filthy imagination. You decide to try something, something you've been planning on for a couple of days now; giving Ilya the ride of a lifetime. Although your sex skills have only just began to better, you muster up all the courage you have to do what usually was Ilya's job. You push him back into the sheets and climb up on top of him, straddling him.

The kiss, that now turned sloppy, finally breaks leaving a short string of saliva connecting both of you for a moment. "Hmm what is this любловь моя (my love)?" Says Ilya, his voice a low grumble laced with his growing arousal. "You have been getting...how you say, creative?" He adds. A soft giggle coming form you follows his words. His hands slide up to your hips, steading you over him. "Maybe I have." You reply. It comes out softer than intended, probably because you're not entirely sure of how to handle this situation, but you are too determined to bother about tone.

His eyebrows raise seductively at your words. "Okay. Tonight, is up to you baby." He whispers, slowly pulling your hips forward on his, letting you feel the growing tent in his boxers. This is all the confirmation you need to set the plan into motion. Your hands reach down to the hem of one of Ilya's hockey t-shirts which you are currently wearing. His eyes follow your hands and you hear his breath hitch as you pull it over your head, discarding it somewhere on the floor. You're left in just a simple pair of black lace panties.

Ilya's gaze glides over you body, completing one long, appreciative glance, after which his eyes meet your once more. "You are gorgeous." He says. You don't think you could ever get tired of hearing those words coming from him. The praise, enveloped in his rough Russian accent sends a shiver down your spine. You dip down to sloppily kiss him. His hands travel up your back, pulling you impossibly closer to his warm, muscly body . You move down to his neck, sucking gently at the sensitive pulse point beneath the hinge of his jaw.

Ilya groans at the feeling, slipping his hands into your underwear to squeeze your ass. By the time you finish your job, he'd seamlessly slipped off your underwear, as well as his. He looks up at you with those sex-drunk eyes which now seem to have a greyer hue than before. "You need help?" He asks, his own way of conveying his urgency. You take a long breath in, aligning yourself with him. "Ready?" You whisper, more to yourself than to him, yet you still receive a sharp nod in return.

You slowly sink down onto him, taking him slowly, inch by inch until he's fully inside you. You balance yourself with one hand on his chest, a trembling breath following Ilya's own noise of relief. "Fuck. You are so tight baby." He grits out form behind his clenched teeth. It's obvious that he's using all the power left inside of him not to fuck up into you.

After your body adjusts, you give your hips a slow, tentative roll. Holy shit you think, as you let out a soft moan against your own will. It's not your first time taking him, but having him this way, at this angle, feels completely new. "Good girl." He says to you. His hands, gripping your hips, start to push and pull you, setting a slow, but powerful pace. The hand you're leaning on him with trembles slightly, but this was your idea and you're the one in charge today. So, you take responsibility and start rocking over him, slightly faster than his own set pace.

Ilya groans under you, his eyes staring hungrily at the place where you're both connected. "Is beautiful view from here." He says past one of his own, deeper moans. All you can do in return is whimper and continue moving your hips. A few moments later, you find yourself bouncing, as well as rocking on him, hardly containing the high pitched moans and whimpers coming from your mouth. You're way too far gone, drowning in the feeling and the everlasting sounds Ilya is making beneath you.

Ilya's restraint seems to snap, as his hands resume pushing and pulling at your hips. His own hips bucking up to meet your motions sloppily. "Ilya...I'm so close!" You manage to state, the sentence pushed out hurriedly from behind you whimpers. Ilya makes an almost primal noise, fucking up into you harder than before. "Let go for me." Is the last thing you hear before everything is drowned out by the sound of your own pleasure crashing over you in an instant. Ilya continues moving, before finally pushing himself deep inside you. He shudders and moans under you as he fills you up.

Your body collapses over his, breathing heavily while you come down from an earth shattering orgasm. His big, warm hands move up your back in calming motions. "Good girl. Such a good girl for me." He says softly in your ear. His own breathing still uneven as you feel the warm huff against your ear. "You did so well." He adds. You lost track of how long you stayed close like that, but before you knew it, you were both cuddled up close and happy, falling asleep in each others arms.

Thanks for reading!! I want to say a huge thank you for all the support I've gotten on my other works, I didn't think people would like those so it really means a ton!

Like and re blog if you enjoyed 💗💗

It’s Saturday afternoon at the Curtis house —hot, slow, and noisy in that way only a greaser hangout could be. The TV hums from its corner, flickering light across the mismatched furniture and the haze of cigarette smoke drifting lazily in the air. The boys are piled around in a tangle of limbs and laughter: Two-Bit draped upside-down on the couch, Dally slouched in the armchair like he owns it, Steve sprawled on the floor near the coffee table, and Sodapop with his feet propped up on a chair he’s claimed as his throne.

Ponyboy sits in the corner, legs pulled up, pretending to read but not really reading, so the usual. He’s got a book open in his lap, but his mind isn’t anywhere near the pages. It’s across town.

It’s with you.

The prettiest girl in the whole of Tulsa, if anyone asked him. But no one ever does, because no one knows.

He’d seen you just last night —out by the old drive-in, hidden behind a row of parked cars where the screen glow painted your skin like moonlight. You’d been laughing, still in your cheer uniform, hair soft and styled perfectly even in the wind, smelling faintly of vanilla hairspray and gardenias. You’d given him a few sips of your milkshake with a grin and told him he looked too serious for his own good.

He’d smiled at that, big and dumb, and you’d told him he was handsome when he smiled, that it wasn’t fair how pretty his eyes were.

Now, sitting here, Pony feels the ghost of your lipstick on his jaw, and his chest aches a little with missing you already. He wants to see you again, but that means sneaking around, lying to the guys, and pretending to care about Mickey Mouse reruns so they don’t start asking questions.

Except Two-Bit, in his infinite chaos, snatches the remote and flips the channel — because even a guy like him can only watch so much cartoon nonsense. The TV flickers. Mickey Mouse disappears in a burst of static as Two-Bit flips through the channels.

“C’mon, Two,” Johnny groans. “Leave it on somethin’ normal for once.”

“Mickey is normal,” Two-Bit argues. “You just don’t appreciate fine television.”

He clicks again. The screen flashes white — then lands on something glittery and pastel and loud: girls in sparkly dresses, high hair, and bright smiles. The little banner at the bottom says ‘Oklahoma State Teen Beauty Pageant Finals.’

Dallas whistles low. “Well, hell, now this is somethin’ I can appreciate.”

Soda laughs. “This shit's gonna rot your brain, man.”

“Worth it.”

And through it all, Pony’s heart just stops.

Because there you are.

Standing onstage under glittering lights, smiling that perfect, rehearsed smile that still somehow looks real. Because you’re real. You’re you. The dress you’re wearing is baby pink, soft and sparkling under the spotlights, your sash glittering with your name. You’re holding a microphone, answering some question about community values or volunteer work or whatever they always ask at those things. But Pony doesn’t hear a word.

He’s frozen. His pulse is a drumbeat in his ears.

“Oh, damn,” Steve drawls from the chair, smirking at the TV. “Now that’s a girl.”

“Yeah, look at her,” Sodapop adds, low whistle under his breath. “She’s somethin’ else. You ever see a girl like that walkin’ down our side of town?”

Two-Bit elbows him. “Bet even you couldn’t charm a chick like that, huh, Soda?”

“Man, I’d sure try. She’s a knockout.”

Ponyboy feels something hot flare in his chest. He’s gripping the edge of his book so hard his knuckles go white. His jaw tightens.

Because they’re talking about you. About your laugh, your hair, your skin, the dress he knows you hate because it scratches your shoulders. They don’t know that same girl on TV calls him sweetheart in quiet parking lots, or runs her fingers through his hair when he’s reading aloud, or tells him she loves the way he smells like wind and tobacco and soap. They don’t know she kisses him like she’s got nothing to lose.

“Hey, hold up a sec!” Johnny chimes in, his brown puppy dog eyes wide. “Ain’t that the girl that always gets in the white convertible after school, Pony?”

Ponyboy freezes like a deer in headlights.

“uh... i dunno, maybe?”

Two-Bit leans forward. “Yes, she is! The one always parked by the Soc side of the school!”

Dally lets out a low whistle. “Now that’s a doll.”

“Yeah,” Two-Bit says, squinting at the screen. “That’s her. Man, she’s somethin’. Look at those legs—”

Ponyboy stiffens. “Hey!” he squeaks. “Cut it out, guys!”

Soda turns his head, eyebrows raised. “What’s eatin’ you, kid?”

“nuthin’. Just don’t talk about her like that.”

Dally laughs. “Oh, c’mon, Pony. You ain’t jealous, are ya?”

The room bursts out laughing. Even Johnny cracks a smile. Pony feels his pulse quicken. He is jealous — painfully, furiously jealous — because it’s not just that they’re talking about a pretty Soc girl. It’s you.

You, with your soft perfume and your perfectly curled hair, your laugh that sounds like music when you’re teasing him behind the school gym where no one can see. You, who sneak out of cheer practice just to meet him by the old water tower, the one place he swears no one will catch them.

You, his secret.

He’s supposed to keep it that way.

“It's not like she'd even look at us, Pone, no need to worry about any of us stealin' your little celebrity crush!”

He’s supposed to bite his tongue, pretend he doesn’t care, let them talk. But the words are slipping out before his brain catches up.

“Yeah, well, she does look at me and she kisses me too! how do you all like that, huh?”

Shit.

It’s dead silent.

For a split second, the only sound in the room is the TV announcer congratulating the winner. Then every head in the room snaps toward Ponyboy.

Soda’s jaw drops. Dally blinks. Two-Bit almost chokes on his Twinkie.

Johnny, eyes wide, whispers, “Wait… what?”

Steve squints. “You mean that Soc? The pageant queen on the screen right now?”

Pony’s brain short-circuits. “No- wai- I—I didn’t mean— I just—”

Too late.

“NO WAY!” Two-Bit howls, pointing at him. “YOU? YOU’RE DATING MISS PRISSY PINK DRESS?”

Soda practically jumps off the couch, grinning from ear to ear. “SO SHE’S WHO YOU’VE BEEN SNEAKIN’ OFF TO SEE! YOU LITTLE CASANOVA!”

“Oh, my God,” Steve laughs so hard he nearly falls over. “Ponyboy Curtis, you dog!”

Dallas is still staring at him, somewhere between disbelief and absolute amusement. “Kid, you’re tellin’ me you pulled a Soc cheerleader? Damn, maybe I’ve underestimated you.”

Pony’s face is scarlet. “Shut up, all of you!”

But that only makes them laugh harder.

Johnny’s still blinking, eyes darting between the TV and Pony. “I can’t believe it,” he mutters softly. “I thought you were just readin’ with her or somethin’.”

Soda slings an arm around Pony, ruffling his hair. “You sly little thing! Darry’s gonna love this—”

“Don’t you dare tell Darry,” Pony hisses, swatting his brother’s hand away.

“Tell me what?”

Every head swivels toward him.

The laughter dies immediately.

“Nuthin’! It's nuthin', Darry, I swear, don't listen to them!”

Soda, of course, cannot resist. “Pony’s got a girlfriend!” he sings, grinning wickedly. “A Soc girlfriend!”

Darry’s eyebrows shoot up. “A what?”

“Oh, c’mon, Darry,” Two-Bit adds, wiping tears from his eyes. “You should see her! She’s on TV right now! Pageant queen! Pony’s been keepin’ her all to himself.”

“Your baby brother’s been keepin’ secrets, Darrel— that one!” Dallas points at the TV, where your smiling face flashes again in slow motion as the announcer lists your titles.

Darry walks into the room, eyes narrowing. He glances at the TV, at you in your glittering dress, then at his little brother —flushed, squirming, mortified. He blinks, eyes flicking from the screen to Ponyboy. For a second, he looks genuinely stunned. “Her?”

Pony groans into his palms. “Oh my God, kill me now.”

“Ponyboy Michael Curtis,” he says slowly. “You wanna tell me how on earth you’re on a first-name basis with a girl like that?”

Two-Bit’s laughing so hard tears are in his eyes. “I can’t believe it, man. Outta all of us, the little bookworm gets the prom queen!”

Dally’s smirk is pure devil. “Guess we been underestimatin’ you, Curtis. Didn’t know you had it in you.”

Sodapop ruffles Pony’s hair, grinning like the proudest big brother alive. “Atta boy, kid! Can’t even be mad. I’m impressed. You always were a dark horse.”

“Stop it!”