'Pimpin ain't easy'

“Never have I ever fucked somebody that was family.” 

“Oooh bitch who!”  

Duckie rolls her eyes from her desk as her roommate and her obnoxiously loud friends play a drunken game of never have I ever. Even with her noise cancelling headphones, loud blaring music, and her favorite show in the background, they made their presence known in the room. Everywhere on campus was closed, and she definitely didn’t feel like making that drive home, just for one night. 

Their game started out pretty decent. Never have I ever skinny dipped, danced on top of a bar, but then after a few shots the real questions came out. Streaking, public sex in the park, and now they were dabbling in scenarios that most would consider gross and borderline illegal.

“My Uncle Damon.” Jaime was her roommate speaking. Duckie had to roll her eyes. Damon was Jaime’s step uncle through her aunt and not really her uncle. 

“Really Jaime!” The girls exasperate, “Everybody knows Damon isn't really your uncle. He's black.”

“So what?” Jaime shrugs, glancing at Duckie with a smirk as she leaned back on her hands. “He was hot either way.”

“So, it doesn’t count.” 

“And it's fucking gross if you're actually doing that with a family member.” Duckie says from her desk, phone in hand as she scrolled through multiple messages, frowning when she sees one from him.

xxx-xxx-xxxx : They can't make it bug, not if I come. Duckie: I want you there, so they can kiss my ass on not inviting you.

“Not if you didn't know.” Maddy, one of Jaime’s friends' quips, pulling her back into the conversation. These girls can’t be that dumb for dick.

Duckie sighs, tapping her pen against her notebook. "Especially if you didn’t know, how could you not.”

“So, you wouldn’t fuck your stepdad?” 

Back Home

“How'd you even find this game?” Duckie sat pressed against the corner of the couch, a vintage PlayStation controller vibrating in her hand as she played a game that was made specifically for another console. “Or get it to play on a PlayStation.”

“Cross platform play, just re-programmed it with a few buddies back in college before it was illegal.” The voice groaned and pushed themselves up. “When you asked me to help move back home, I didn't think you were gonna have this much shit.” 

“Oh, is the old man feeling achy,” She grins, then laughs when their hand lands on her thigh with a smack. “What, I was there for four years, Jack.”

Amused, Jack shakes his head and moves to take his prosthetic off, sighing in relief at the pop of the suction letting go of his stump. “Where is it gonna go Duckie,” He leans the metal made leg against the coffee table, other hand rubbing in gentle circles over the sore residual limb. 

“Ma left me the house,” Duckie wasn’t planning on leaving school a month before graduation, and especially not while in the last month of classes and finals before graduation and in the middle of her ‘paid’ internship at Brookstone Rehab. She had built a genuine connection with the patients, and coworkers, opening herself up to multiple opportunities to network with other like-minded professionals. She was ready to stay in the city, build a life for herself, and overcome her forbidden love, that is until her mom died, and her ‘stepfather’ was coming to pick her up for the funeral. “I don’t want to stay there, so I can move some stuff there.”

Jack looks at Duckie, watching her study the screen like it was another one of her anatomy test review papers, expertly maneuvering the controls to move her player through the obstacles. He understood why she didn’t want to stay there; it held too many memories. Some recent with just him and her mom, but even he couldn’t stay there, moving into his own place just a few miles down. “Yeah?” He moves a hand down to her exposed leg, fingers rubbing into her calf in gentle circles. “Where are you gonna go?” 

“I was hoping I could move here…...with you.” Pausing the game, Duckie looks his way with her lip pulled between her teeth. A look of nervousness etched across her features. “Just for a little bit until I get on my feet after graduation.”

Jack sighs and leans back against the couch. He wouldn’t mind the company, he enjoyed having Duckie around. He just knew how it would look to her family and friends that she was living with her mom’s ‘husband’, if he could even call himself that anymore. They weren’t married yet, so he couldn’t be considered a widow, still, he’s known her since she was seventeen, both of them practically family. In his eyes, she was all he got. “I guess I can clear out one of the bigger rooms for you, have it ready by the time you graduate.”

Duckie squeals and moves to press her body against his in a hug, nearly knocking the wind out of him as he laughed and patted her back, fighting the urge to slide it down lower, to the swell of flesh that peeked from under her shirt. 

“You gotta help though.” He reminds her.

“Of course, there's a certain way I want to set up the room.”

“Yeah, and how's that?”

Duckie was particular in the way she wanted her room to be set up; she needed more space to study and do hobbies than sleeping space. Her twin sized bed pressed into one corner of the room with the rest surrounded by her desk area, gaming lounge–which was just a couch in her room separating the three areas–A small chaise near the door. The room practically lived in after the first month. Jack noticed her room stayed messy with open textbooks, test review papers, index cards for cheat sheets, highlighters and pens.  She would be in the middle of the chaos in just a large night shirt and her glasses, hair pulled into a bonnet, surrounded by multiple opened snack bags, candy wrappers, and one too many energy drinks he would scold her for the next morning. Every night he saw her that way, getting cram sessions in with junk food and caffeine until she crashed in the morning just as he was coming from work. She would fall asleep in the middle of the floor, music still playing from late night sessions. 

This was Jack’s only time he could really see her. The sun was rising as he was just coming in, leaving his work stuff at the door. He would find her just like that, softly snoring. Jack would pick her up with ease-a habit he's done since she was a senior in high school– and carried her to bed. She would curl into his arms, mumbling something about the bones in the foot and ankle and their functions. Her body hit the sheets with a soft thud, instantly curling against the pillows. He pulled the sheets up to cover her, before making sure all of the lights were off and the blinds were closed. The cool air of the ac was blowing would make him shiver, but he didn’t mess with it, just carefully stepped over your school supplies to head down the hall to his own room. 

Duckie knew how she ended up in bed when she woke up a few hours later, it was obvious that it was Jack. Sometimes she did it on purpose just to feel the warmth radiating from his chest, or the scent of his coffee and leather cologne. Duckie had to admit she had her crush on what those would call her ‘stepfather’, if she could even call him that anymore. She hadn’t expected the last month of living with him to make it hard. Especially now as she took a shower and got dressed for the day to be greeted with Jack coming out of his room. Black shorts resting low on his hips, not a t-shirt in sight to show off the sleeper build of a dad bod he had. His prosthetic discarded for his arm crutches, lets her know he was home for the day.

“Look who decided to wake up,” Jack jokes, “Looks like I won’t be eating dinner alone again tonight.”

Duckie rolls her eyes. “Yeah, yeah.” She follows him downstairs to the kitchen. “Are you not working tonight?”

“Took some time off,” Jack stops by the fridge to pull out packs of chicken for tonight’s. “The therapist suggested it, to get used to the new fitting of my prosthetic.” It was an easy lie, but Duckie didn’t need to know that. “How’s the studying coming?”

“It’s coming.” Duckie slides onto one of the barstools. “Finals’ tomorrow, but it still feels like I don’t know the material.”

“What class?” Jack moves through the kitchen to prepare dinner for the two of them.

“Human Pathophysiology.” Duckie huffs. “The professor is a hard ass, so he wants exact, precise answers, and doesn't believe in multiple choice.”

“Go get your stuff.” Jack looks up at her.

“Huh?”

“Imma help you study, go get your stuff.”

The kitchen island became overrun with all of her study materials, snacks while he cooked and rattled off random definitions and scenarios for her to see where she was in terms of knowing and understanding the material. Jack leans over the counter as the chicken cooked on the stove behind him. In his hands he held her textbook book and color-coded notes.

“This is an easy class, bug.” Jack looks over his nose at her, “Mostly definitions and scenarios.”

“Says you,” Duckie huffs with crossed arms. This was the second time she was taking the class. “I failed this class the first time.”

“Most medical students who go into Ortho do.” Jack puts the book down. “Says Park the Shark.”

“He can kiss my ass.” Duckie rolls her eyes. “Brendan’s a fucking genius but doesn’t want to tutor.” 

“You called him Frankenstein on opioids." Jack reminds her of the time the two met for the first time. Duckie had torn her ACL trying to play basketball with some cousins. It landed her a trip to the E.R on his shift. Brendan had been his usual stoic self, brooding, and snipping at the interns when she made the comment. They became friends after he learned what she was in school for. 

Duckie smiles. “He was being mean to the interns.”

“That’s just Park.” Jack sniffs, turning to remove the chicken from the stove, and warm up the sides. “He would also call you dumb if he knew you were taking this class again.”

 “I don’t know whether I should be offended or not.” 

Jack shakes his head to the side, when he shrugged. “I mean if you study the material the way you study me in the shower, you could pass.” 

“Huh?” 

He smirks. The past month of living together, Duckie had been “accidently walking in the bathroom when he was getting out. Frozen in place, stuttering, with her hand on the door. Most women would immediately leave and close the door, but lately he noticed her lingering longer. He would catch her staring as he got dressed some nights before work, and to test that theory;  he would leave his bedroom door cracked, intentionally not wear a shirt, or even more now, continue his nude yoga, but making sure he was right in view of her bedroom window. It wasn’t like she wasn’t a little tease herself. Walking around the house in really short shorts, his t-shirts she stole from the laundry. When she ran out of her own hygiene products, she smelt like his. 

“If you can huh, you can hear,” Jack turns to look at her. His smile was teasing, knowing. “You don’t think I notice, but I do.”

“I-,I- don’t-”

“It’s okay.” Jack moves around the island towards her. Duckie sits up nervously, feeling the heat of him on her back, and his breath near her ear. His hands cage her in from behind, pulling the textbooks in front of her. “I know exactly what you are doing,”

“Yeah,” Duckie whispers.

“Mhm yeah,” Jack, against his better judgement kisses her shoulder. “I know exactly what you want.”

“What’s that?” Duckie shudders.

“For me to fuck you over this counter.” 

Duckie closes her eyes at the crude admission. She should feel a way considering the relationship they share, and the one he had with her mother. He wasn’t wrong though. Since she was eighteen and first seen him naked, she’s wanted him to shove his dick in her so deep she cried, till she squirted all over him. She wanted to be screaming his name. Yet.  one thing always stopped her. Her mother. Harsh to say now, but she was no longer here.

“Jack.”

“Yeah, bug?”  He grins.

“I want you to fuck me.” 

Jack does his signature smile and body shake, hand patting her book. “You pass this class, and walk across that stage, and I will.” 

Bet.

“Shit, we shouldn't be doing this.” Jack groans, grabbing her hips to still her. Duckie pouts, full lips finding the space beneath his ear and neck. 

“We shouldn't, or don't want to.” Duckie coos, hands slipping under the black shirt he wore. Her freshly done nails grazing over his lightly tanned skin makes him shiver.  She sat perched in his lap, legs on either side of his thick thighs until she pressed her crotch against his.  Duckie passed her class with flying colors, walking across that stage Sum Cum Laude, and high honors. Despite her family not showing up, Jack and his co-workers did, surprising her with flowers, gifts, and words of encouragement for her future. Still, it wasn’t what she wanted. With graduation long done, and everyone out of the house after her surprised dinner, she pressed herself against Jack with hurried kisses just as the door closed behind the last person to leave. She was eager for the present she waited weeks for. Jack was too but he wasn’t gonna tell her that. 

“Your family is gonn-”

“Fuck them.” She mouths along his jaw and rocking her hips against him for friction. “They didn't show up to watch me graduate; they barely helped with moms funeral and they sure as hell didn't like her when she was here.”

Jack couldn't argue, not when her emotions were high, and she was grinding her clothed center against his crotch. His hand travels up her back to grip the nape of her neck, forcing her to look at him. “There's no going back.”

“Who said I want to?”

Jack chuckles and pulls her into a kiss, slow, steady, taking in the moment to let her adjust to the sudden dominance. Duckie wraps her arms around his neck, pressing herself closer until they are chest to chest. His other hand rubs up her side, squeezing gently when she nips at his lip. 

Duckie pulls her dress off without breaking the kiss, moans leaving her lips as he rubbed his hands back down her thighs, squeezing to ground himself in the reality that this was happening. Her lips were wet, soft, slotting against his in a hungry kiss he's waited way too long for. Jack was hungry for her, sucking on her full lips with a groan. Her breasts fit perfectly in his hands, massaging the soft flesh until she whines for more. 

“What you want, baby.” Jack hums, kissing down her neck. His thumb and forefinger pinched the dark areola until they peaked. He licked and sucked small Hickie's into her neck.

Duckie guides one his hands to her core where he feels the wet patch forming. 

“All this for me?” The pads of his fingers circle gently over her clit through the lace material of her panties. 

 “Yes, please,” She nods breathlessly, “touch me.”

“Good girl,” He coos, slipping his hand through the waistband, down to her slick mound. His fingers were thick, warm rubbing in back-and-forth motions to gather her slick. “So wet and needy for me.” Jack adds another finger, slipping further down to tease her entrance. Her mouth parting at the intrusion. She was tight, but the slip came the more he continued to thrust his fingers inside her. Duckie rocks her hips against his hand hoping to reach that spot only to cry when he pulls them out. “Open” He commands.

“Jack-” His fingers and the taste of her shoved in her mouth cuts her off. Duckie closes her lips around them. Big brown eyes locked onto his as she sucked slowly, somehow loving the taste of herself mixed with him. 

“Nasty girl,” Jack pulls his fingers out, no longer able to wait, nor wanting to. His dick was straining against his pants, throbbing with need as he pulled off his shirt. “Take em off.”

Jack watches her stand up and pull off the thin fabric tossing it to the side with his own discarded clothes. He pulled her back on his lap before she could see the size of him, but she did feel him in the crack of her ass. His mouth on hers just as quick as he rolled his pelvis against her core. His tip was swollen, nudging at her entrance. 

“What? No foreplay?” Duckie grumbles in the kiss. “Or the erectile dysfunction showing.?” 

Smack.

His hand cracked on her ass with a yelp and jerk, making his dick notch at the entrance with a whine. “I’mma eat that pussy later.” Jack doesn’t look at her, pressing up into her with a firm grip on her hips until he is slipping inside her with joined sounds of pleasure. “I just need to feel you.”

Duckie grabs his neck, nearly pouting as he bullied his thick dick inside of her. The walls of her pussy tightening around him like a flesh light, but it was better. Her juices helped him pump into her with little resistance. Jack could see it bulging in her tummy, making him harder than before. He pressed a hand on her stomach to feel himself pumping up into her. “Jack,” Duckie whines, hunching over him. She needed him to move faster. The pace was teasing, drawing out sounds that were strangled. 

Jack slides his hands down her thighs, relaxing back into the couch, with a smug grin on his face as he patted her thigh. “Go head mama, take what you need.” 

Duckie bounced in his lap with loud moans, nails digging into his shoulders with his own gripping her hips to guide her pace, so he didn’t come so fast.

“Fuck, just like that baby.” Jack leans forward to lick over the purpling hickey he left on her neck. Her pussy squeezed every time she rose to the tip, slamming down with a cry of pleasure. “Just like that.”

“Jack,” She sighs, feeling the muscles in her legs shake from going so long.

“I know mama,” Jack coos, pushing himself up so he could lay her back on the couch, residual pressed on the cushion with his other foot planted firmly on the floor. His large hands push back her thighs to expose her glistening pearl to him. “Daddys' got you.”

Synchronized moans fill the room as he sinks back into her pussy, dick slick with her juices. The backs of her thighs rest against his shoulders as he presses forward to rest his hand by her head. “S’deep.” Duckie whines. 

“Yeah?” He kisses her leg with a breathy laugh, pumping his hips relentlessly until her body rocked. “You asked for it.”

The sensation was too much, his was dick hard and swelling inside, her gliding in and out slowly until the tip pressed against her sensitive bundle of nerves that made her buck up into him, his mouth kissing along her calf and hands squeezing the flesh of her thighs mixed with the smacking of his pelvis into hers. One leg lowers around his back, bringing him closer. Duckie dug her nails into the backs of his shoulders. She was folded in half with a burn in her thigh, but it was welcomed just to feel his mouth on hers again. 

Duckie lowered her other leg around his back, locking her ankles to bear his weight on top of her. 

“fuck” Jack inhales, groaning at the way her velvet walls clench and squeeze around him. He stills for a moment. “Gotta pull out Duckie.” He needed to before he came too quick, before he took it too far. 

“I'm on birth control.” She licked the shell of his ear, doing it again and pulling the lobe between her teeth when he shivers.  

Jack huffs, rolling his hips in a steady rhythm, “gonna be the death of me I swear.” 

“You love it.” Duckie nips at his neck, grinding up to meet him. “S’big.”

Jack hugs her close, rolling over until they lay face to face, legs tangled together to hold each other close. The sting from his hand on her asst makes her hiss. Dark areolas pebbled against his rough fingers, tweaking them with every thrust. “I'm not all the way in baby.” 

“Fuck, you're lying.” She grips his curls at the nape of his neck, chasing his mouth for another kiss. He obliges with wet lips, letting her control the kiss for a moment. 

“Would never lie to my pretty girl.” He grunts, pumping up into her. 

Duckie shakes her head, pulling back just to see that he was indeed only halfway in, the thickest part of him brushing against her clit gently. She whines “quit playing and pull it all in.”

“That's what you want?” Jack grabs her hips in a tight grip. “Want me to fuck you raw?” He presses, mocking her expressions when she feels that stretch. It burned beautifully. Duckie’s mouth agape, hands pressed against his chest. “Uh-uh,” he leans into her space, face buried in her neck. 

“T’much.” Duckie pants.

“You can take it,” he coos, pressing deeper until he bottoms out. Jack stilled so she could get used to the intrusion. He sighs, closing his eyes to savor the heat, squeezing around him, almost pushing him out. The smack of his hand on her left ass cheek makes her pout. “Be a good girl and take it.”

“Then fucking move, or is the old man tapping out.” Duckie breaths.

Jack chuckles. “I'll show you who’s tapping out.” He pulls out, entranced at the mess she left on his dick. For a moment. 

Jack barely gave her a moment to breathe when he moved back on his knee and stump, flipping her on her stomach. Duckie pushed up on her hands and knees, looking back at him. His erection coated and at full attention. Her mouth parts, making him smirk. “Atta girl.” He grabs her hips and thrusts into her without warning.

“Daddy!” Duckie almost topples forward without his grip on her. His pace was relentless, curving to find her sweet spot every single time. Pelvis to ass, the sound ricocheted off the walls of the living room back to them, muffling her cries. Duckies' fists clenched the couch cushions, meeting him thrust for thrust. 

“Yeah baby?” He frees a hand to rub her back. The sounds she made were music to his ears. Skin flushed red, he leans over her back, rubbing his hands under her to find her clit. “You feel me in my pussy?”

“Mhm,” Duckie throws her head back against his shoulder, bracing a hand on the arm of the couch for stability. “Yes daddy.”

“Good girl.” He kisses her cheek, keeping his mouth pressed against her sweat slicked skin. “Wanna cum with my pretty baby.” 

“Please,” Duckie whimpers, legs buckling from the overstimulation of him rubbing circles in her swollen clit and pumping into his hips. Skin to skin he grabbed her throat to turn her head and kiss her

It was all too much for Duckie, eyes rolling back from the intense bucking of his hips, arms barely hanging on. Her body supported by his firm hold on her. Her pussy squeezed around him, making him groan into her mouth. That familiar tingle in her belly traveled to her core, coiling in her stomach until she came with a loud cry.

“There's my messy girl,” Jack grinned. He paints her walls white with his come not long after, lazily pumping and rubbing her clit through the aftershocks of her intense orgasm.

“Jack,” She whines, falling flat against the cushions. He followed, positioning himself on his side and rolling her into his arms. His arm wound around her back and cradled her close. Duckie’s head lolled back and her eyes closed but he was still fucking into her, even if she was overly sensitive. 

“I know, baby.” Jack kisses her chin, “Daddy’s almost done, you got one more.”

His thumb and forefinger rub fast circles on her clit in time with him long stroking into her. The intimate position made it easier for him to hold and kiss her until she was creaming on his dick. Her body shook from the second orgasm of the night, nearly squirting all over him. Jack would vow to make her do that next time.

Jack pressed kisses all over her face, chin and neck, stopping his movements, but still staying buried inside of her until she came down from her high. Duckie’s eyes were glossy, wet with tears when she finally opened them to look at her.

By the time the two of you broke apart, work was forgotten and he was since honked at by whomever was behind him after the light changed. You looked up, naturally, toward the traffic. With just the quick flit of your gaze, you recognized Jack’s truck. The slight squeal of the tires made you sigh internally, but you were already saying goodbye to the man you just hugged.

Jack pulled into the parking spot next to where you had parked, while you were beginning to open the door to your car, and dumped your purse. The coffee stayed—you weren’t giving up your caffeine in the midst of your boyfriend’s jealousy.

“Need a snack?” You asked casually, your lips parting for a sip.

Jack rounded the long bed of his truck, “I was thinking coffee.”

“You hate coffee jitters,” you countered.

Liar.

Jack squinted at you, stepping into the space of your open car door. You eventually sat while he barred you in. Jack hunched forward, one hand on the roof of the vehicle and the other on the ajar door.

“Who was that?” Jack drummed his fingers along the hollow-sounding metal.

“No one important to worry about,” you sucked your teeth at him. “I wouldn’t meet with my other boyfriend in such a public place, you know.”

“Not funny,” Jack screwed his mouth to the side.

“He was thanking me for helping him and his wife along with their newborn recently after she recovered from an emergency C-section,” you rolled your eyes, dropping your coffee cup into the nearest cup holder. “You never have to worry.”

“I know,” Jack shrugged, feigning dismissivness. You were his one certainty he somehow regularly felt unsure about; he was afraid to lose you. Sometimes he went about it all wrong. “I think I’m a bit of a dumbass.”

“Just a teeny bit?” You pressed your tongue to your teeth, doing a terrible job suppressing your smirk.

“Yeah,” Jack ended up smiling and dipped down, silently requesting an apologetic kiss. “We’re talking microscopic levels of dumbassery.”

You caved easily as you always did and brought a soft hand up to his bristled cheek. You didn’t hesitate to press a sugary sweet kiss to his lips. You thumbed away any gloss you left behind, but you admittedly enjoyed marking your man in small ways as much as showed possessiveness.

“I gotta go,” you hummed against his lips. “I’m gonna be late.”

“Now I see why you leave so early. I didn’t know I was dating the local heroine,” Jack smiled and began to back away.

“Ha, ha. That is rich coming from Captain America,” you rolled your eyes in amusement and reached for the car door. “Watch your good leg. See you later.”

“She always gets one last shot in before she goes for the kill,” Jack clutched his chest in mock pain.

"honey," he sighs. you press a kiss to his mouth, cutting him off. he grunts and pulls away, "we gotta talk about some of these charges." you bite his bottom lip softly.

you pull his readers from his face, and toss them on the table. "sammy," you tease. you press a kiss to his neck, run the tip of your tongue over his pulse point. "i was very lonely today," you taunt him. "all alone," you sigh. "left to my own devices." you stare in his big hazel eyes, taking his hand and pressing it to torso. "my hands cant do what yours do."

"baby," he turns away. "we gotta talk about your spending." sammy is trying to fight off his lust, but god you are fucking perfect. why must you make it so difficult?

"tomorrow," you say definitively. you press your lips to his again. your tongues get tangled in each others mouth. where sammy starts, and you end is lost, with the sex in the air.

he pulls away, "you always do this baby." he sighs, "we actually have to talk about this."

your hands go to unbutton his work shirt. "it's not my fault." you smile at him, attraction drawn on your face. "you look so sexy when you're stressed and working." your hands have flown through all of the buttons on his top. you take in his appearance. his wife beater under his button up, has some random stain on it. you'll take it to the cleaners tomorrow.

"you can't keep doing this, every time you wanna get your way honey."

you chuckle. "i don't need to fuck you to get my way sammy." you place your hands under his wife beater. your finger pads soak up the warm flesh of his round stomach. "you let me get my way, regardless."

sammy's hard on is pressing to the inside of your thigh. "i've spoiled you." he relents. his hips buck upward.

"and i thank you for it everyday," your hips grind against his pelvic bone. "i hope it's not falling on deaf ears."

"wouldn't hurt to hear you say it a few more times." his hands find your ass, moving your hips to his liking.

you kiss behind his ear, "thank you sammy." he sighs, rutting into you. the clothed barrier between you two means nothing to his desperation. you pull your hands from his stomach and to his broad shoulders, looking him in his eyes, as you grind against him. "thank you, sammy." his pupils are dilated, and his hair is a mess. you pull him in for a messy kiss, telling him once more, "thank you sammy."

your chest and his chest are pressed up to each other. sammy frees one of his hands to the nape of your neck. he pulls away from your entangled kiss. his lips find your neck. "pretty girl, driving me fucking crazy." he sucks on the skin. "sex on legs, my baby." you can feel the bruise forming already. it's too hot for turtlenecks, too sweaty for caked on concealer. not that it would matter, sammy wants you to show off his work. "gonna make me cum in my pants. ruin my fucking suit." he utters into your neck.

"i'll fix it up for you."

you feel sammy's hips spasm against yours. he pulls your forehead to his, biting your bottom lip. his damp suit bottoms, pressing to yours. "you're trouble."

"im your trouble." you smile, before going back in for a kiss. "are we gonna sit here in your cum or are you gonna take me upstairs to properly fuck me?" you raise your eyebrow.

sammy places his hands around your midsection, pulling himself up out the chair. you wrap your legs around his torso, and lace your hands around his neck. you pepper kisses on his face, and he begins stalking up the stairs.

"trouble, trouble, trouble," sammy utters to himself. "don't got myself a girl, got myself some trouble." he smiles to himself, soaking in your sex and affection, carefully moving to the bedroom.

"c'mon, honey. let's do this so we can get to the good stuff…" was the… joke, partnered with a loud enough sigh to rip you out of the mood a little. robby doesn't pay the words any mind–because they were just supposed to be some funny thing he kind of meant but not really–settling onto his stomach between your thighs. when the routine changes, when you silently urge to go straight from suckling on his cock to him sliding himself inside, robby doesn't say much about it. he takes it as a sign you're just as excited to get to it as he is…

VERSUS

jack's brain is malfunctioning in three different ways the first time you shake that pretty head and tell him, "he doesn't have to." he doesn't have to… like it's some kind of chore to taste you until you're shaking. a talk ensues. one where you're in his lap on his bed, his prosthetic off, and hands cascading themselves all over you while you try to make it make sense for him. when you're done, he lets you decide, promising that he will be fine with whatever you choose; and also that option one–giving jack the chance to prove to you that it is absolutely, undoubtedly an act he is dying to perform–will be worth your while. you aren't sure what you expected from the man, but reality soared far above the restrictions of your mending imagination.

the only time jack slinks his mouth from you is to remind you to take "deep breaths, doc," 'cause all you're sucking in fast gasps of air and smashing your thighs at his ears, poor thing. in fact, jack, himself, is breathing deeper than you… inhaling with his nose buried into the hair on your mound while slurping against your clit with slippery, famished laps. when robby used to eat you out, you didn't sweat. not like this. you suspect it's the way jack is dragging it all out, losing himself the way you keep falling apart as much as you are. by the end of it, you're swollen and sensitive and feel a good kind of buzzy. jack hums something satisfied at how bad of a mess you made and the little noises still spilling from your mouth, snogging his way across all the spit and juice. the dessert after dessert.

now, four times is good. four times looks good on you, doc. tastes even better. though he can't help but wonder what you'd sound like during number five.