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frank loves watching mel's pale pussy blossom into a beautifully blushed jewel. fascinated by how quickly her light skin flushes and swells up under his touch. he dips between her fat pussy lips, separating her slit and opening her up, discovering the warm and wet heaven between her supple thighs. hot blood rushes into her clit, growing red and swollen, undeniably peaking out from under her hood. he runs a finger over her delicate nature, spreading her clear arousal and covering her puffy pussy, making her glisten.
all her bubbling emotions that she has to keep in check at work, even moreso at home, muffling all of her tears in a pillow if she does cry, careful not to be too loud. it balls up in her chest, constricts her lungs, tensing every nerve. robby lets her get it out.
beating at his chest with her fists, futile, screaming how she hates him, she hates him for doing this to her, for making her this, for ever fucking touching her. calling him a pervert, an asshole, a piece of shit. trying to hurt him any way she can. she's sure he lets her because he thinks he deserves it. he does deserve it. she shouldn't have to remind herself of that.
he takes it, her red-faced toddler tantrum, and he's so calm, and it makes it a fucking humiliation ritual. she's so impossibly young, next to him. childish, immature. she shouldn't fucking be here. you're the one that should be saying no to me, she whispers finally as she slumps, face first into his warmth, hiccuping. you're the one that should— should be saying no. you know I won't. you know it. I fu— mm, I fucking hate you, robinavitch. m'gonna tell everyone about you.
I know, bunny, I know, is his reply, crooned softly, arms coming up to wrap her in him. she hates that stupid pet name almost as much as she loves it. you can tell anyone you want to, victoria. you know that. this is all up to you, kiddo.
you know it's not! she would shove away from him if she could find the strength, but it's drained from her now, leaving her weak, twitchy, unwilling to pull away from his embrace. you know it's not, you know I'm not gonna do that. I shouldn't have to be the one that knows better. you should fucking know better. this is your fault.
his breath comes out in a woosh, a heavy sigh, a hand rubbing circles over her back. my smart girl. huh? smartest little girl in the world. he pulls away just enough to slide down to his aching knees with a grunt, big hands coming up to rest on her hips, his brown eyes ever-earnest. but you're dumb for me, aren't you? he whispers, and she should fucking hit him.
poor thing. he kisses at her stomach through her clothes, makes her shiver, and it's embarrassing how easily her body reacts to him. how much she always wants it. maybe if he's a pervert, she's one, too. you like it, though, don't you? being daddy's dumb bunny? getting to cmere to my arms, my bed, throw your little tantrum til you're all tuckered out, let me kiss it better?
his chuckle is low, condescending, and she's... she's trying to hate it, she's really trying. she's starting to fuzz over already, a heartbeat between her legs, beating for him. he's nuzzling against her clothed pussy and making her whimper, hands threading through his short brown hair, trying to find a place to tether.
if she's gonna be stupid enough to keep letting this happen to her, maybe she should just let it feel fucking good.
there you go, little one, ohh, it's okay, he murmurs, reaching up to ease her shorts and panties down, helping her kick them off. his big hands slide back up her bare legs and she gasps, goosebumps erupting on her skin, shuddering at his touch. he grins, places a soft kiss over her mound, teasing and light.
please, she whimpers, and usually she fights back for so much longer. stays a brat until he fucks it out of her, fights him on this every step of the way. but she's tired. it seeps into her bones, makes her eyes glaze with tears. please, daddy, I wa—wanna feel good. m'sorry. m'sorry.
his eyes soften, hands rubbing gently at her thighs, making her feel weak-kneed and wanting. okay, bunny, shh, sh. gonna make you feel so good, sweetheart. daddy's gonna make it all better.
he nuzzles back into the space between her legs, and the sear of a hot, wet tongue parting her folds is bliss. she's never this sensitive when she touches herself, never feels anywhere close to the way he makes her feel. every inch of her alight, warm, buzzing with pleasure and need.
he works her over, lapping and suckling at her puffy clit til she's hiccuping cries, fucking his tongue inside her fluttering, dripping hole. he buries himself in her, groaning against her slick, nose grinding against her clit. nnnghh, daddy, please, she sobs, bucks her hips against his face, knowing he loves it. loves when she takes, fucking herself on his face, panting at the perfect, wet heat of his eager mouth.
it embarrassingly doesn't take her long to cum at all, soaking his beard, feeling the scratch of it on her inner thighs as he plunges his tongue back inside of her, licking at her walls for his own pleasure, drinking down her release. she's dizzy when he pulls away, loosens his grip on her enough that she slides to the floor. he's quick to tug her into his familiar lap, sliding a hand under her shirt, petting softly at her stomach. feeling her skin.
yeah, aww, there y'are. daddy kissed it all better, huh? s'that so nice? shh, shh, don't gotta think anymore, bunny. none of that. daddy's dumb little girl.
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michael robinavitch x victoria javadi, 1.8k words, explicit
read on ao3
“No.”
“Yes, Victoria,” Robby’s eyes narrow. “You need a break.”
“No, I don’t,” she whines like a spoiled child. “I’m fine.” She feels herself crossing some imagery line, rolling her eyes at her chief attending and pouting until she gets her way.
Robby can’t stand her attitude, swooping forward and grabbing her tiny wrist, pinning it against her chest. He’s angry, searching her pretty face for a glimmer of obedience, “You don’t get to do that.”
Victoria swallows her pride, looking up at him with her big brown doe eyes, terrified and slightly turned on. His large hand feels like a chain, burning her skin and keeping her still.
“You need to do as you're told,” he whispers, his hot breath staining her face.
Victoria isn’t that easy. A life of achieving the highest expectations, she needs a challenge. Bravely asking, “And if I don't?”
robby who's been sitting in a shitty motel room for hours, legs bouncing and stilling, bouncing and stilling, sitting on the edge of the queen bed with an ugly comforter. robby who's been fidgeting with a bottle of pills for the past hour, knowing it's enough, it would be enough. the air conditioner hums, white noise in the otherwise silent room.
robby who knows no one is coming to save him. no one is coming to take the pills from his hands or coddle him or kiss it better, and it's been decades since he's deserved anything like that. robby who knows he's alone, and feels it in every inch of his body, in his marrow, rotting his bones from the inside out. robby who doesn't want to die. he just wants his mom.
rotating the bottle in his hands, over and over, toying with it, with his life. willing his phone to ring, but it never does. jack texts him, sometimes, dennis, even rarer. call me if it gets dark. puts all the pressure on him, huh? to reach out? to lift his phone that feels heavier than it should, limbs frail, hands shaking? to find the contact and press call, knowing that in the seconds it'll take him to do so, he'll succumb to cowardice and not call at all?
it's the closest he's come to resenting jack, truly, wholly resenting him. because fuck him for that, fuck him for not calling. fuck him for offering instead of forcing. fuck him for letting him leave that goddamn hospital. fuck him for ever wrapping robby in a hug if he was just going to let go.
robby crumples in on himself, and he wants his mom, and he always wants his mom, because fuck his dad. he doesn't care if his dad wants him or not. he wants his mom to want him, to want him again. the fuzzy edges of her wanted him, once. she used to pet the back of his head after he had a nightmare, slow and steady, soothing him. his own hand raises to mirror it now, petting the back of his head, sniffling something wet and embarrasing, whimpering like a wounded animal. he wants his mom.
and it's a humiliation ritual, to struggle this hard, to be fucking bad at killing himself. it makes sense, really. he's failed at so many things, so many times, it's in his nature. his legs bounce again, his free hand clutching the bottle of pills, willing himself to just fucking do it.
robby doesn't want to die. call me if it gets dark.
and he fucking hates him for it, hates him for it, and he's dropping the pills and rummaging for his phone, breathing shaky with tears burning in his eyes as he stabs the contact, stabs the call. jack doesn't get a word out.
please just tell me not to do it. tell me you don't want me to do it. tell me you couldn't handle it if I did it. tell me you can't fucking live without me, jack. tell me you couldn't survive a goddamn day without me here. even if you're fucking lying. even if you're lying to me. please. jack, please. tell me not to do it.
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robby grabs at dennis’ bony hips, ramming himself into his hot, sticky cunt. he’s disgusting, indulging in his interns pathetic need to please. sweat trickles down robby’s temples, seeping into his crows feet and collecting in his thick beard. mucus drips from his nose into his greying mustache, licking his lips and tasting his saltiness.
he lowers himself, his hairy chest chafing against the boy’s smooth back, asking slyly, “who does this cunt belong to?”
“you,” dennis wails.
“say my name.”
“michael,” he whines. “ah- it’s- ah- michael’s cunt.”
“yeah, it is. only here for me to use,” robby hisses into dennis’ greasy blond hair. he bullets his hips, allowing his heavy balls to slap against the kid’s pale ass. “m’close. i’m gonna cum. paint your insides, give you my babies.”
dennis screams into the cheap motel sheets between his teeth, arching his back, opening up his puffy cunt.
“is that what you want- huh? you want my babies, denny?”
“m’please,” his voice muffled by the thin mattress, soaked in his tears.
robby tightens his grasp, bruising dennis’ thin skin, leaving red handprints in the curves of his tender flesh. he heaves, sputtering, “m’gonna cum in you. fill you up.”
dennis’ thighs tremble, his whole body aching from the abuse. he whimpers, “need it, sir.” he clenches around his cock, whining, “please- oh god.”
robby’s lower back spasms, shaking and grunting, reminding them both of how old he is. thick strands of cum pour out of him each time he reels his hips back, using the young boy’s cunt to milk himself.
dennis sobs when he feels a new heat burst inside of him, mumbling “m’thank you, sir, thank you- need your cum in me. mhm-mmmore, more, more. ah- th-thank you.”
the white fluid collects in the folds of dennis’ pink pussy, leaving him swollen and irritated as robby snaps forward again. keeping his cock pushed deep inside of him, growling, “i can give you more. you want more, denny?”
they collapse on the bed together, robby trapping dennis under the weight of his big belly. “m’gonna stay here all night. leave you nice and full. plugging you up with nowhere for my cum to go.”
dennis releases an embarrassingly high-pitched moan, “unghhh- please.” he buries his beet red face in the scratchy covers, constricted under his strong boss. his slim body burns, writhing from the dull pressure pushed up inside his cunt lasting all night long.
mentos doing karaoke. mentos drunk as fuck together. mentos giggling as they get into an uber and it takes them back to trinity’s apartment. mentos stripping down to their underwear and climbing into trinity’s bed together bc they’re both too drunk and tired to care.
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like i’m sorryyyy but you can’t tell me santos didn’t take mel home with her idc idc they got a lyft or whatever back to trinity’s apartment and then they scissored until they fell asleep in her bed
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