I Think Since Abbot Works Nights He Gets Majority Of The GenZ Nurses So He Starts Picking Up On Some

if he looks at me like that i am asking what we are because like...

I Start My Mornings With Folgers and Hot, Steamy Sex

Summary: Dr. Robby doesn't get to share many mornings with you, so when the day comes that he's finally able to spend just a little bit more time in your embrace, he doesn't pass on the opportunity to make it memorable.

Pairing: Michael "Dr. Robby" Robinavitch x FEM!Reader

Warnings: SOMNOPHILIA, Smut

A/N: HEYWASSUPYOUGUYSYES, I am back from my nearly year long hiatus with something from a fandom I have never posted about before, but that's okay! I'm a dirty liar and a cheat, so I'm sorry for not updating the Laszlo Kreizler series I had in the works. I'm bad at continuity. Anyway, I hope you guys like this one! Yay!

Mornings spent with Michael Robinavitch have always been painfully short, fleeting moments that spill from the gaps between your grasping fingers like rushing sand, so you treasure the times when everything seems to stop for just an hour or two and you can hold each other while the sun begins to rise. This morning is one of those intensely special times.

It’s around four in the morning–only now the sun is still slumbering soundly just beneath the shimmering horizon millions of miles away–when Robby snakes his arms further around your middle and squeezes ever so slightly. You unconsciously moan in response, the deep recesses of your brain faintly aware of the comforting action as you melt deeper into his velvet touch. His nose is pressed against the back of your neck, inhaling your vanilla-sweet scent with every easy breath, while his large, sculptural hands cup the heavy mounds of your breasts, gently kneading. 

The emergency room attending could stay in this protective bubble forever, completely blocking out the frenetic, ever-speeding pace of the world outside as he keeps one of the people he truly cares about anymore locked in his embrace forevermore. The glimmering lights of lampposts and stretching skyscrapers would wipe across his vision in great streaks, like the measured strokes of a master’s paintbrush across a twilight canvas. Robby is content to have that be his future; these rare instances being wholly untainted by the horrors of the known universe and only meant for your shared enjoyment. Then, he could finally find peace.

Unfortunately, that's not quite in the cards for him just yet. Life has its hands wrapped firmly around the deck, dispersing fate indiscriminately. Dr. Robby has this, though. He has just a few hours with you before he’s inevitably pulled into his grueling work and forced to clear its waters for the next twelve hours. Because of this, Michael Robinavitch is eagerly determined to make the best of the time he has with you. Robby figures he'll start this day off on a good, memorable note.

With that, Robby commences with his plan. As an attending who's participated in countless, intense surgeries, he's startlingly deft with his hands. His grip around your breasts tighten, causing the skin to spill over his palms before Robby lightens up and allows the tip of his calloused finger to graze the pebbled surface of your nipple. Robby’s touch is feather-light, for now, he doesn't want to rush through this like a crazed bull released from its pen. 

Ever so slowly, he circles your nipple with his forefinger, tentatively forcing the skin to contract and become a stiff, little peak beneath his hand. Now, Robby’s able to delicately grip the peak with his forefinger and thumb and roll it between the two, slightly squeezing with every other turn. The effects of his work are already taking place as you moan again, unknowingly bucking your plush hips into his, awakening Robby’s cock to full attention. Robby forces back a pleased groan of his own as he feels the soft mounds of your ass tenderly grip his aching dick in a warm hug. You're too tempting, most of the time. 

Robby isn't distracted from his goal, however. No, he just shifts his attention on your breasts to the other hand while another travels down the curved planes of your body, rustling your sleep shirt and shorts. Your stomach is smooth under Robby’s hand, radiating a soothing heat that he could get lost in for hours. On some days, he comes back from work and immediately draws you into bed just so he can rest his weathered face against your tummy. There, he’ll press light kisses and reminisce on how lucky he is to have a partner like you. At this moment, though, Robby is only using your stomach as a roadmap to somewhere far more important. 

Robby’s searching hand stops just above the puckered hem of your elastic, light blue sleep-shorts, curious as ever. As if it had a mind of its own, Robby’s hand begins to toy with the top of your satin shorts, mindlessly playing with the band while his other hand continues to work one of your stiffening nipples. Finally, your brain switches gears and your toasty body moves of its own accord, rocking into Robby’s firm silhouette. 

Robby unashamedly moans, now, his rough throat giving way to breathy gasps as your ass cradles his hard dick in a near-perfect way. He can already feel sticky, hot precum leaking from his tip, no doubt staining the front of his boxer-briefs with a damp puddle. Every sense is electrified, begging for Robby to amp up the sensations tenfold, but he can't let that happen just yet, this is still about you. 

So, Robby’s hand continues its adventure north, down the front of your shorts, and lightly skimming the silky lace of your panties as it reaches the apex of your pubic mound. Robby can feel the intense heat emanating from your core, nearly burning up his hand with its fire. The emergency room doctor can feel his head go dizzy as he fantasizes about how hot you'll be wrapped around his weeping cock. Still, he presses onward. 

With Robby’s hand now firmly seated above your sex, the man whose whole body surrounds you presses warm, wet kisses to your neck as his middle finger inches forward to grab the edge of your panties and pull them off to the side. Now, your sticky cunt lays exposed to the cold air around it, and even in your sleep, you shudder from the chill. Slowly, Robby’s middle and ring finger search through your folds, grabbing the glossy slick that's there, before finding the rosy bud at the top of your cunt. 

Covered in your wetness, Robby uses his fingers to rub slow, tight circles around your now-buzzing clit, delighting in the sounds you're making as his forearm muscles strain from the awkward position. You shift, opening your legs further as your sleepy brain struggles to process the new sensation probing at its walls. 

Even though Robby’s pace is sluggish, he can still hear the quiet, squishy slap of his fingers against your throbbing cunt loud and clear. Robby knows how wet you can get–what exactly can happen if all of your delicate buttons are pushed in the correct way and order, and tonight, he hopes to have you writhing beneath his touch while your sex unleashes tidal waves of arousal on his dick. In the times Robby has managed such a feat in the past, his ego would skyrocket to preposterous levels, allowing him to walk with a certain bravado he isn't keen to most days. Robby figures that he’ll like to start today off like that, even if it'll draw attention from others.

As the good doctor fantasizes about making you squirt, his rugged hand absentmindedly speeds up its pace, pushing against your clit just that much harder. It's not a painful amount of pressure, but just enough to make your entire body buck with pleasure, nearly pulling you out of your unconscious state. 

Too soon, Dr. Robby thinks. With this, he slows to a screeching halt as he can practically feel the electric currents of arousal flowing from your body to his, exciting his cock further. Robby guesses it would be fine to move on from this phase of his plan, even if every molecule buzzing around in his body is telling him otherwise. All of his barbaric senses are screaming for him to make you cum right then and there, to force multiple orgasms from you before you're even awake, but Robby wants this to be a somewhat relaxed morning, all things considered.

So, Dr. Robby stops his ministrations. Instead, he brings his hand to the edge of his mouth and takes in your heady flavor. When Robby is in a situation like this, something nestled deep within him, a primal urge, takes over his mind and he becomes something wholly unlike his usual self. He can't quite explain it, but you're the only person who's ever brought this side of him out, before. Robby isn't necessarily complaining, either. No, he just moans around his fingers before eagerly unearthing himself from the nest he’s built around his body, you included, trying carefully to not wake you just yet. 

As he finally finds himself free, Robby climbs down the length of your now-prone figure and sheaths himself between your silky legs, adjusting once more to allow his arms to come around the bottoms of your thighs so his hands can rest just below your navel. Once there, Robby slides your sleep shorts and underwear to the side, breathing in your sticky scent, all the while. With your cunt now fully exposed to the outside air, Robby can see it glisten in the low light of your shared room, still drooling from before. 

Robby waits a beat, stilling as he watches your resting form rise and fall with each breath that leaves you, and he finds himself utterly in love with the person caught beneath his eager body. Dr. Robby is incredibly lucky to have someone like you.

It’s with that thought that Robby finally delves into your weeping folds with a parted mouth, his tongue zeroing in on your clit the moment he makes contact with your cunt. You and Robby share a wanton moan as you wake up from your sleepy reverie, your hips moving of their own accord while Robby desperately tries to pin them down once again. 

With a hazy fog still trapped in your throat, you call out to the man nestled firmly between your legs, “Mhm, Michael, what are you–what are you doing?” 

Robby hums before pulling away from your sex, slick dripping from his bearded chin, “Starting the day off strong, don’t you think?” Robby’s voice is deep and rich, now, his vocal chords inactive until recently. 

You laugh before choking back a strained moan when Robby reassumes his work, “If this is how we’re starting the day, I can’t wait to see how it ends.” 

Dr. Robby laughs, too, the vibrations ricocheting against your clit and sending shockwaves directly to the base of your spine. You thread your hands into Robby’s thinning hair, pulling ever so slightly when he sucks your clit into his lips and licks. You don’t know it yet, but your orgasm is closer than you can register, especially considering what happened before Robby positioned himself beneath your quivering sex. Your mind is too caught up processing how enthusiastically he’s eating you out, as well as the way Robby’s hips seem to hitch against the mattress with every swirl of his tongue. You don’t even catch when one of his hands slips from the resting point above your pubic bone to travel beneath your legs and station itself just to the side of your parted lips. 

When your mind finally does catch up is exactly the moment Robby begins to ease a finger into your cunt and carefully curl inwards, in a sort of beckoning motion. You groan loudly, impatiently welcoming the intrusion with a strong clench of your legs while Robby presses his free hand into the base of your stomach. 

His tongue, his finger, and his other hand all create this perfect symphony of pleasure that has you shaking beneath Robby’s touch. If you were in your right mind, you might have possibly felt Robby’s smirk against your cunt, but you’re currently preoccupied. 

Still, when Robby introduces another finger, deliciously stretching your wanton hole to a comfortable degree, you can’t help the thrashing your body does, completely overwhelmed with sensations. Before you know it, your orgasm is at the door and knocking to be let in, which you gladly allow. 

A burst of electricity simmers beneath the surface of your skin as your cunt spasms, your hold on Robby’s hair tightening that much more as he continues to lap at you like a starved man. Liquid gushes from your core, absolutely coating the lower-half of Robby’s face, the beginnings of his neck, and his hand while wild slurping noises can be heard just below your shaking body. 

He’s barely letting up, so it’s not long until you’re buzzing from overstimulation and begging your partner to ease off of you. Dr. Robby relents, struggling to hold himself back from tasting even more of you as your orgasm washes past your senses. 

Once the rush of sound filters through your ears, you tug on Robby’s sleep shirt to bring him to eye-level with you. Robby crawls back up your body, arms supporting his weight on either side of your head. 

“So, how was that?” Robby asks, a wide smile painting his features. 

You giggle, leaning in for a kiss and only slightly grimacing at the feel of your juices on Robby’s face.

“Is amazing an okay descriptor?” You answer his question with a question of your own, to which Robby chokes back a laugh. 

“That’s great. Don’t change it,” he says, leaning down to peck your cheeks and neck. 

The morning isn’t quite over, yet, as you feel the hard length of Robby’s dick pressing against your most sensitive spot. As Robby spares a kiss to your cheek, you take a minute to worm your hand down your bodies so you can firmly grasp his cock and squeeze. 

Robby moans, quickly getting the hint as he’s reminded of his own pressing matters that need to be attended to soon. Your partner pushes himself off of your body so he can lean back on his haunches and yank his pajama pants down, just enough to free his glorious dick. 

The sun is starting to peek through the curtains, now, so you’re able to see the faint outline of his cock, long and thick, proudly shoot out from the base of his pelvic bone. Robby takes it in his hand and cautions a gentle swipe over the leaking head, moaning again as you attempt to take your shorts off, as well. 

Robby snaps out of his daydreaming and helps the offending garment off of your legs, your lower half perfectly bare for him. You open your legs further, to which Robby eagerly positions himself between them before resting his dick against your stomach. You’ll never get used to his size, you think, with his dick being much bigger than anyone you’ve been with previously. 

Robby smiles, his question heavy in the air, “Are you ready?” 

You nod, eventually voicing an affirmative when he doesn’t continue. Satisfied, Robby takes his cock in his hands once more and leans back to line it up with your entrance. What a way to start the morning.

I BEG YOUR FINEST PARDON???

now, just how necessary was this shot? (very. the answer is very.)

Listen I saw the username, saw what this is about, and YES LORD I WAS STARVED FOR A CARMY FIC

spring cleaning

Reader x Carmy Berzatto (The Bear FX)

Rating: Explicit (1.8k)

Tags: Plus Size Reader, Smut, Porn with a little plot, TW Weight Talk, Body Worshipping, Oral Sex (F Receiving), P in V Sex, Use of "Good Girl" and "Good Boy", Both Carmy and Reader have a Praise Kink

You were standing in front of the mirror, eyebrows furrowed, turning this way and that, the skirt of your dress swishing around you.

You heard the lock click and the low thud of Carmy's shoes as he left them by the door.

"Hey."

"In the bedroom," you called back, still frowning.

He walked inside and let himself fall on the bed.

"Long day?" you asked.

"Mhmm," he shifted so that he was able to see you while lying on his side. He noticed the piles of clothes at your feet. "You've been busy too."

"Spring cleaning," you explained with a smile. "That's keep, sell, donate, and throw away," you pointed at the piles. You exchanged a glance with him in the reflection. "What do we think?"

"You look nice," he said, his eyes tracing your figure. "Never seen you wear it before."

"It was in the back of the closet, I forgot it existed," you admitted. "Okay, we're keeping you."

You took the dress off and put it on top of the keep pile, then grabbed a black turtleneck you hadn't touched since mid-December. You put it on and winced, pulling a little on the hem to cover your belly and not quite succeeding.

"We're throwing you away," you said decisively.

"No..."

It was a quiet, pitiful sound and it made you turn towards Carmy with a confused face.

"You look good in it," he explained.

"I think you were looking at my ass and can't be trusted," you teased.

"I wasn't!" he said, then his eyes darted to the edge of your panties, snug against your ass. "Okay, I was. But you still look good in it."

You hummed in disbelief.

It was a sensitive subject. You had put on a little weight and any tight piece of clothing was just a sore reminder of it.

"I'll just get a new one," you deflected, not wanting to get into it now that Carmy was paying you compliments. He didn't even know you were insecure about this but he had probably, almost definitely, noticed you had put on weight. "It's practically see-through now."

That bit wasn't a lie. The knit fabric stretched out over your chest and under bright lights it showed very clearly whatever bra you were wearing underneath.

"You look good in it," Carmy insisted.

"Carm..." you sighed.

He got up from the bed and stood behind you, his arms rounding your waist.

"You look good in it," he repeated, his eyes intense, his breath tickling your cheek. You shivered. His hands went under the hem of the sweater, touching your belly, ghosting under your bra... "So beautiful," he buried his nose in your hair, exhaling hard, squeezing your breasts, bringing you close. You felt his cock, hard against your ass, searching for some friction.

"Fuck..." you sighed, carding your fingers through his curls.

Before you knew what was happening he was carrying you to bed with ease, making you giggle as he lowered you on the pillows a little clumsily.

He knelt between your legs, leaving kisses on the inside of your thighs, the outside of your hips,  right underneath your bellybutton where the elastic of your panties had left a faint imprint - all places you were insecure about. All the while, his fingers were tracing gentle lines up your torso, underneath the turtleneck, pressing over your skin with want. He was worshipping your body, careful not to leave a single inch untouched. You bit your lip, overwhelmed, his touch left you electrified.

"Carmy," you called, caressing the side of his face, he looked half consumed with hunger for you and something else - something soft and sad. "Everything okay?"

He nodded. "I just- I don't know how to show you so you'll believe me. But I like you and I want you and you drive me crazy and- I don't know..." Carmy buried his face in the crook of your thigh, his exhale tickling you. "I think that, uh, that you're not feeling great about it right now but I love your body. So much. So fucking much. All of it."

His thumbs traced your sides, drawing pictures over your stretch lines, sending shivers up and down your body. You kept caressing his face. You wanted to cry and you wanted to fuck him and you wanted to kiss him sweetly...

"Thank you," you whispered.

He moved slowly to kiss you - passionate, thorough. "Want me to make you feel good?"

"Please," you smiled. "Turtleneck stays on?" you asked. You hadn't seen him become so unhinged over a piece of clothing since the red bow bra incident of Valentine's Day.

"Mmm," he hesitated, studying your body as he went downwards. He kissed the swell of your breasts over the stretched out fabric, breathing heavily, and moving down, down, down... "Just for a bit."

He started mouthing over your underwear, his breath hot on you, patches of arousal and saliva wet on your panties.

"Fuck," you moaned, massaging his scalp, writhing with pleasure.

"Mhmm?" he arched his eyebrows. 'Is it good?' he seemed to ask.

"Yeah," you whined and tugged at the elastic of your underwear, urging him to get it off. He dragged it down your legs, barely breaking contact, the kisses to your pussy felt heightened now that there was no fabric between you two. "Fuck. Carm."

He took your legs and hitched them up his shoulders, opening you wide for him to devour. His tongue traced wide, long lines on your pussy. When he finally started sucking your clit, you were already on the precipice, back arching off the bed.

"Oh, my God!" you moaned, tugging hard on his curls.

"So fucking hot," he mumbled on your skin, calloused hands caressing your thighs as they clenched against the sides of his face.

You giggled, flushed with arousal.

"Let me ride you?" you offered. You hadn't dared to in a while but you knew he liked it. A lot.

"Fuck, baby..." was all Carmy could say before flipping you over so that you were hovering above him. He removed his shirt as you rushed to unbutton his jeans, hands trembling a little from your orgasm. Carmy stopped you before you could drag his jeans all the way down to his thighs, reaching down to retrieve a condom from his pocket.

"D'you have one inside every single pair of jeans or-?" you teased, mouth watering slightly at the sight of Carmy pumping his cock and putting the condom on.

"Fuck off," he replied lightly, urging you to get closer and straddle his hips. "Like to be prepared."

"I do like that about you," you said sweetly. You leaned over, kissing him as you guided his cock inside you.

"Jesus," Carmy swore under his breath, a low growl trapped in the back of his throat as you lowered yourself on him.

You sat on his hips, hesitant at first, but then he pressed on the flesh of your thighs, urging you to put your full weight on him.

"That's it," he hummed in approval. "Good girl."

You beamed at his praise and bounced on his cock once, getting a groan from him.

"You've been very good to me tonight. Made me feel so loved, so beautiful..." you said in turn, enjoying the bashful look on his face.

"Yeah?"

"Yeah," you went up and down again and noticed Carmy's eyes following the movement of your breasts. He had said that he wanted you already but there was something truly thrilling about feeling it - feel his cock twitch inside you as you got rid of the sweater and let your bra slide down your shoulders.

"Holy shit," Carmy stared at you open-mouthed.

His hands grabbed at your ass, your hips, greedily, the tendons of his hands flexing. It was a vicious cycle - the way he looked at you in awe, the sweet nothings that fell from his lips and made you ride him harder...

"Always so good to me," you slurred. "Such a good boyf-"

The last syllable of 'boyfriend' was drowned with a gasp, the upward stroke of his cock leaving you breathless. You looked down and found Carmy flushed down to his chest, eyes wide.

"Oh... You like that?" you asked gently.

"I think I do..." he huffed out a laugh, incredulous.

"We can have fun with that," you smiled wide, rolling your hips. He knew your weaknesses and you loved finding out his. "You've used 'good girl' against me."

"Shit," he squeezed his eyes shut, probably counting the times he had teased you to the edge of your orgasm and back with those two words. "Okay."

"Yeah?"

He nodded. "Yeah," he looked at you with dark eyes. "Take whatever you need. Wreck me."

You built a rhythm, low moans leaving Carmy's lips as you rode him.

"Good boy," you said it softly, like you were trying it on and seeing what effect it had on him.

"Fuck!" he growled, thrusting up, breaking your rhythm, making you see stars.

"Mhmm," you felt a warm pool inside your belly.

"'m so fucking close, baby. Help me a little," he managed, guiding your right hand to your pussy, wordlessly asking you to touch yourself.

You did, traced swirls on your clit as you saw him almost lose control - because of you. He was panting and sweating, leaving handprints on your thighs because he wanted you that much. The realization made you shiver and pulse around him.

"Carm..." you called softly, so close to your release it hurt. You caressed his chest, the lines of ink on it. "So perfect inside me, my good boy..."

"Pleeease," he whimpered.

And you fell apart, moaning and shivering, the sight of you coming on his cock was enough to break him. He dragged you down and kissed you with desperation.

"Baby, baby, baby," he sighed. His hands roamed and squeezed all over your body.

"You okay?" you asked, moving strands of sweaty hair out of his face.

He nodded but you weren't completely convinced.

"If you didn't like me calling you that we don't need to do it again," you reassured him. "Thought it would be fun but-"

"No. Don't-" he struggled with his words. "I liked it. Fuck, I loved it. I just feel a little guilty that- Well, I was trying to make you forget that you were upset and- I feel like it became about me at some point?"

"Hey," you cupped his face. "It's okay. Haven't felt this good about myself in months," you said honestly.

"Yeah?"

"Yeah."

You felt like you were glowing, beautiful and satisfied. It wasn't a permanent fix but seeing Carmy lose control like that for you had been a calming balm to a wound you had ignored for a long time.

"Thank you," you said against his lips and then kissed him slow and deep.

You fell asleep at some point, warm, entangled, and perfectly content.

JAVIER PEÑA???? ON HIS KNEES?

“Now,” he murmurs, voice honeyed and dangerous, “you’re gonna watch me tear this pussy up.”

Your pussy sings.

Blocked and Begging | Javier Peña x F!Reader | ~3.1k wc | Explicit. Minors DNI.

Summary: You block Javier and he shows up at your doorstep.

Tags: angst, smut, fwb dynamic, drunk!javi, fuckboy!javi, modern!au i guess, pussy eating, fingering, unprotected p in v sex, creampie!, pussy pronouns, half-assed beta'd, untranslated spanish, no use of y/n, reader is afab and able-bodied, reader is a woman of color yet everyone is encouraged to read, no physical descriptions, sorry for any stray typos/grammatical mistakes, if i missed any other tags pls let me know okay, thanks!

A/N: i blame this anon i got for this, tbh. so thank you for doing all the heavy lifting, 'nonnie. much appreciated. there's not much i can say except i hate javier peña so much the only way to fix it is to fuck him! also @almostempty 's fuckboy joel def inspired javi's characterization in this so thank you for blessing us with that weds mwah love u! okay guys as always let me know what you think and thanks for reading 🖤

The first call came in at 2:12 AM. An unknown number, but you knew. 

You silenced it. Then again, 2:14. 2:17. 2:23. Again. Again. Again. Until the screen was so flooded with missed calls and increasingly misspelled messages, it looked like he was trying to break into your world through sheer persistence.

Baby Answer the phone I fucked up Please

Fuck him. He hasn’t been around or texted back in days, and now all of a sudden he’s blowing your phone up like you’re the one who disappeared. 

You wouldn’t have minded the silence, really, it was to be expected from a man like Javier. However, one of your friends had seen him out last night—messy, drunk, as affectionate as he is with you with some girl—practically fucking her on the dance floor.

When the video came in, you stared and stared until the knot in your throat wrung angry, jealous tears from your eyes. You blocked his number right then and there, throwing your phone across the couch, telling yourself you didn’t care.

You shouldn’t care. You aren’t together. You both made that clear. It’s supposed to be casual.

But it doesn’t feel casual, not with your stomach in knots and your heart twisting up and damn it, it’s really your fault for fooling yourself into thinking this is more than what it is.

You finally answer the phone at 3:06 AM. Your voice is like ice. “What?”

He sounds drunk. Words slurred, voice raspy like he’s been smoking, or yelling… or both. “I fucked up. I know, I know—Just let me come over. Let me see you—”

“Why? So you can lie to my face instead of over the phone?”

“I didn’t fuck her, baby, believe me. I couldn’t stop thinking about you.”

You hang up.

He can take that sweet-talking, liquor-soaked bullshit and feed it to someone else.

However, twenty minutes later, there’s insistent knocking at your front door. Like he knows you’re waiting.

You exhale hard, palms dragging over your face, and stomp to the door. When you look through the peephole, there he is—his drunk ass swaying slightly on your porch, one hand braced against the frame to keep him steady, the other casually on his hip.

It pisses you off, yet you still open the door. “Leave.”

He does the opposite, stepping inside as if you aren’t in the middle of a fucking argument, shutting the door behind him. Javier Peña never needs an invitation to make a mess.

“You have some fucking nerve—” You push at his chest, but he catches your wrists. 

“I know,” The smell of whiskey emitting from him has your nose wrinkling.

“No, you don’t.” You yank your wrists from his hold, trying to be preemptive by putting some distance between you both.

Being close to him is dangerous as hell, especially when you’re angry and hurt and jealous. “You ghost me for days and now you show up like some stray looking for scraps? What—did she not let you spend the night? Got bored fucking her and remembered I’m always dumb enough to answer?”

All your overthinking spills from your lips, grinding your teeth at the thought of him being with someone else before showing up here.

His face twists. “It wasn’t like that.”

“Bullshit.”

“I didn’t sleep with her—”

“Oh, fuck you, Javier. Don’t insult me. I saw you with your hand up her dress!”

He tuts under his breath, shaking his head like you’re the irrational one here and you hate how that makes you feel. “That doesn’t mean I fucked her.”

“Whatever. I shouldn’t care who you stick your dick in. We’re not together, right? So go ahead. Have your fun. Just don’t show up at my place acting like you give a shit about me when you can’t even be bothered to fucking call.”

“I do give a shit.”

He steps forward and you move back, spine stiff, feet landing near the edge of the dining room, t-shirt barely brushing the tops of your thighs. You’re aware of how exposed you are and how his eyes flick downward, just for a second. Your whole body betrays you when he looks at you like this.

“I’m sure you do.” You sass and his jaw twitches. 

“You want me on my fucking knees, crawling to you to show you that I’m being serious? Because I will.”

“Estás borracho, Javi. No seas ridículo.” Men are so nonsensical when it comes to trying to prove their innocence. 

You just stare as he kneels, his shoulders going slack, hands on the floor. His gaze never leaves yours as he crawls the short distance across your living room rug to where you are.

You say his name, half-warning, half-beg, swallowing roughly, your ass grazing against the edge of the dining room table.

He reaches you, reverently sliding his hands up your calves until his thumbs brush the backs of your knees. His breath is warm against the tops of your thighs as he presses his face to your stomach, kissing you through the cotton of the shirt, inhaling your scent.

“I’ve missed you.” His fingers disappear beneath the tee, calloused palms grazing the skin of your stomach before they trail past your ribs, cupping your breasts, squeezing softly. 

You both let out sighs of pleasure, his thumbs grazing your nipples until they peak for him. 

“You’re just saying that so you can fuck me.” As if you’re not going to let him.

Javi squeezes your tits roughly, making your back arch. “I mean it. Was dealing with some shit and got reckless…” He continues to knead your breasts, making you feel disoriented. “Don’t wanna fuck someone else when I have you…” He sounds truthful, but you don’t know if that’s because he means it or because he’s touching you like this and saying all the right things. “I wasn’t thinkin’, perdóname baby.”

One hand leaves your chest to drag down, knuckles brushing your belly as he hooks a finger under the waistband of your sleep shorts, toying with them.

He looks up at you with those stupid, brown glossy eyes. “Let me make it up to you.” 

Your hands grip the edge of the table and your whole body screams yes even as your mouth tries to say no.

You never learn.

“Okay.”

His breath is hot and shaky as he lifts the hem of your shirt, exposing your torso. You rid yourself of it, the cooler air nipping at your heated skin, his palm still on your tit while the other grips your hip. 

You gasp when his mustache scrapes against your skin, coarse and ticklish, making you shiver so hard your knees almost buckle.

His tongue draws lazy circles around your belly button, slow and sensual, dragging heat lower with every wet swirl. You want to stay angry—you try—but it’s so hard.

Then his fingers slowly hook onto the waistband of your shorts again, tugging slightly like he’s asking permission without speaking. He glances up at you, and when you don’t stop him, he tugs them down your thighs and lets them pool around your ankles.

You step out of them, entirely naked now.

Javi’s strong hands slide under your thighs and lift you onto the table. The wood is cool beneath you but his hands are hot. He spreads your legs obscenely, exposing you fully. The air kisses your folds and you twitch, cunt glistening only slightly due to your anger-thinned arousal.

He knows exactly what to do about it, starting by letting his fingers stroke through the coarse hairs at your mound, his pointer and middle fingers matching the V of your cunt, massaging your sensitive flesh and making you mewl, hips hovering off the table.

He starts slow.

A kiss to your outer lips then a long, dragging lick right up the seam of your pussy, tongue splitting your folds, collecting every bit of heat you haven’t admitted you’re building.

“Look at her,” he groans, lips brushing your pulsing clit. “Fuck, baby. She’s so sweet.” His voice drops a bit. “You think I’d want anyone else when this is mine?”

His tongue darts out again, flattening along your labia, slow and wet. You hiss through your teeth, falling flat on your back, unable to keep straight.

He does it again and again, not quite giving you what you want, but he’s only doing this to savor the blissful taste of your syrupy arousal building on his taste buds.

“Still mad at me?” he murmurs into your cunt, getting even more drunk between your legs.

You open your mouth to snap at him, to remind him why you’re pissed—but then his pouty lips wrap around your clit and he sucks, gentle but insistent, and your head tilts back with a helpless moan you can’t swallow.

“Jesus—Javi—”

“Let me hear you. Let me make it better.”

Your fingers find his thick and soft hair, tugging hard. He groans against you, lips humming at your clit, tongue circling and flicking with a skill that makes your thighs shake.

Wetness floods you, you can feel yourself opening, melting, helpless under the pressure of his talented mouth.

“Pussy tastes so fucking good,” he growls, voice muffled against your now soaking cunt. “Eres perfecta. I’d never find better.”

His hands grip your thighs, groping the supple skin, holding you in place as he sucks and slurps at your pussy. Messy, wet sounds fill the space.

You grit your teeth, trying to hold onto your anger. To remember how jealous you’d felt when you saw that video. How humiliated you were. How tired you are of being strung along by a man who only seems to remember how much he wants you after he’s already hurt you. How he knows exactly how to play you.

But God… his mouth. His cock. They’re too fucking good and outweight all the shitty things he puts you through. 

He eases two thick fingers inside your pussy and you cry out loudly, eyes rolling to the back of your head.

Your walls clench around them instantly, pulsing with need as his fingers curl deep, finding that spot that makes your vision dot.

“Ohhh fuck, Javier—”

“Take ‘em so well, baby” he purrs, pumping into you slow and deep, his lips still making out with your clit between every sentence. “Let me have her. Let me love her. She deserves it. You deserve it.”

The squelch of his digits pumping into your soaked cunt is drowned out by the ringing in your ears and the hot wave of euphoria that seizes your whole body. Your skin tingles, toes curl, as your pussy clenches down hard, orgasming and fluttering around his fingers in messy, wet spasms. 

Javi comes up from between your legs, mustache wet and lips glistening. He reaches your breasts and palms them with greedy hands, squeezing them together as his tongue laves at one peak, then the other.

The attention to your chest has a needy, cracked whimper slipping from you and it makes him smirk against your skin.

He then hovers above you. You can feel the heat radiating off his body, despite him being fully clothed, the scent of sex and sweat and his cologne wrapped around you like a drug. He leans in for a kiss.

But you turn your head, letting his lips land on your cheek instead—a silent rejection that makes him growl low in his throat.

His hand—the same hand that was just buried knuckle-deep inside your pussy—grips your jaw tight, fingers slick as he forces you to look at him.

“Dame un beso,” he orders roughly.

You don’t get the chance to obey or protest.

He crashes his mouth against yours, lips hot and hungry, tongue sliding past your teeth in an instant. The taste is potent—his favorite whiskey and your own pussy, mixed and heavy on his tongue.

You whimper into him, your arms pinned between your bodies, lips held captive and bruised under the weight of his kiss.

Your hips swivel when you hear the clatter of his belt then feel the rasp of denim sliding down low enough to release himself.

He drags the head of his cock up your aching seam, circling your puffy clit with it. Javi taps it teasingly against your tender nub, smearing your own wetness, making you jolt.

Breaking the kiss, a thin trail of saliva bridges your lips to his. He keeps the grip on your jaw tight, blunt fingernails digging into the skin, making you wince slightly. His nose brushes yours, eyes locked, the rest of the world melting away.

And without a word, he pushes in.

Slow.

Thick.

Deep.

You can’t speak. Your mouth falls open, but no sound comes out. You just feel it—every inch of him forcing your walls to stretch until his balls kiss your ass and you’re stuffed to the brim with him.

“Mierda,” he groans, eyes fluttering. “You always look so fuckin’ pretty with this dick inside you.”

His thumb brushes your bottom lip, eyes softening for just a moment. Then he leans in and kisses you again—this time tender, sweet, like he’s trying to say something he can’t put into words.

“Now,” he murmurs, voice honeyed and dangerous, “you’re gonna watch me tear this pussy up.”

You barely register his grip shifting—the hand on your jaw moving to the back of your neck, pulling you upright, making sure your eyes are trained down to where you’re joined. Where his dick is slowly dragging out of you, glossy and thick, before he slams back in with a sound that punches all the air from your lungs.

“So fucking good for me, even when you’re pissed off at me. But you don’t really hate me, do you baby?”

Your whole body jolts against the table, your answer coming in the form of a gasp.

He fucks you slow at first, making sure you feel every devastating inch, the drag of his cock pulling against your walls, your cunt already dripping down his shaft.

Your pussy sings.

He sets a brutal rhythm, fucking into you hard and deep, making the table creak beneath you. Each time he drives in, your slick gushes around him, creamy and filthy, soaking the hairs at the base of his cock.

“Look at her,” he growls, keeping your neck craned so you can’t look away. “Look at how wet you are. You see that? That’s how bad you want me.”

You whimper, fingers digging into his arms for balance.

“Creamin’ on my cock like this—fuck, baby. This is why I come back. You’re why I come back.”

He slams into you again, making the whole table jerk forward.

“This pussy’s perfect. So warm. So tight. You were made for me, huh?”

You nod—frantic, trembling—tears in your eyes from how full you feel, from how right it feels.

“You gonna let me fuck you stupid?” he rasps. “Gonna let me ruin you?”

“Javi—”

“Say it. Tell me she’s mine. That you’re mine.”

“She’s yours,” you whimper, biting your lip, trying to hold on. “I’m yours.”

“Good girl,” he purrs, slamming into you so deep it makes you see double.

After a few more strokes, he lays you flat on the table, his hands gripping your hips with bruising intensity. He drags you toward him until your ass is right at the edge, your body completely at his mercy.

There’s no teasing this time. Just the relentless pace of his cock plunging into your pussy, the wet slap of skin on skin while he fucks this second orgasm out of you.

You're already so sensitive, your walls quivering, stretched to the limit and still greedy for more. He hits that pleasurable spot inside you over and over again, and you can’t help the helpless cries that tear from your throat.

He leans into it. Grinds deeper. Fucks harder.

“One more, shit, Let me feel you. I know you fuckin’ want it.” He pants, watching your face twist up, your body arching. 

The pressure builds fast and then you’re coming again, a white-hot burst that sets your skin aflame, jaw open in a silent moan as your cunt squeezes around him, sticky and pulsing.

He curses low and filthy in Spanish as he follows, slamming deep one last time and holding there, cock twitching inside you as his own orgasm overtakes him. His seed floods you in hot, lazy waves, filling you so full you can feel it leaking out around him even while he’s still inside.

Javi slumps forward with a ragged exhale, arms bracketing your body on either side. He doesn’t collapse, but he’s close.

His lips find yours again, slower this time, gentler—just the soft slide of his mouth against yours, the afterglow humming between you like static. Your fingers drift into his hair without thinking, stroking through the curly strands, feeling like you’re floating.

His brown eyes are soft when he opens them, catching the dim light of the room like warm honey. He looks beautiful like this—flushed, vulnerable, skin damp, chest still rising and falling against yours.

“Stay,” you whisper, your voice hoarse and raw from all the moaning and crying he’d coaxed out of you.

There’s a pause. He studies your face, his expression unreadable, answer delayed momentarily.

“No puedo,” he says at last, his bluntness almost cruel. “Gotta be up in a few hours.”

And just like that, the warmth in your chest snuffs out. Cold creeps in, sharp and fast, and you lay there stunned as the post-coital haze clears. Your jaw tightens. Your hand drops from his hair. He feels the shift in you instantly, watches the light drain from your eyes as he pulls away.

He tucks himself back in his jeans, does his belt with maddening casualness.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” You snap, sitting up so fast it makes your head spin. You reach for your shirt and yank it on.

“You’re really gonna leave after this? After that?”

He shrugs, not looking the least bit apologetic. “Promised Pops I’d help him with the fence. You know how it is.”

You slide off the table with a grunt, snatching your shorts up from the floor and stepping into them. Your legs still tremble from the good fuck you just received, thighs squeezing together to keep his cum inside you. You try your best to ignore it. “All this just so you could get some pussy,” you spit. “Get the fuck out.”

He rolls his eyes, unfazed. “No seas así. Unblock me so I can call you tomorrow.”

He steps close again like it’s nothing, wraps a hand around your waist and tugs you in. You stiffen against him, glare up into his face, trying—desperately—to see through him. But you can’t. And that makes you want to scream.

“You really gonna call?” you ask, voice quiet but sharp, already hating how pathetic it sounds.

“Yes.”

You roll your tongue over your teeth, the taste of him still clinging to your mouth, your skin still tingling from his touch. You should know better. You do know better.

And yet—you believe him anyway.

i have a tag list for my works here, so if you're interested— pls check it out 🖤

@auteurdelabre . @miss-oranje-disco-dancer . @pepperstories . @greenwitchfromthewoods . @maiamore . @pedrohoe04 . @natalieispunk . @thewisesalmon . @bitchesuntitled . @puddles221b . @swankyorange . @bbyanarchist . @thottiewinemom . @heyhihello-4771 . @persephone-girl . @danaehldy . @sunflowerfive . @libre-sol . @harriedandharassed . @untamedheart81 . @moel-jiller . @honeyedmiller . @alexxavicry . @oldenoughtoknowbettersstuff . @almodovarispunk . @southernbe . @readingiskeepingmegoing . @pedrito-is-punk7 . @clubsoft . @la-vie-est-une-fleur29 . @lover-of-books-and-tea . @mysterious-moonstruck-musings . @almostfoxglove . @thundermartini . @pigeonmama . @piercethevic03 . @marisemonteiroo . @picketniffler . @getitoutofmymindwrites . @mandaloriankait . @bunniboo0015 . @kirsteng42 . @ivuravix . @joelmillerisapunk . @theestorm . @pasc4lfuzz . @manuymesut . @angiewatson .

jack abbot knocking cigarettes from your hand because there’s no way he’s watching you kill your lungs like that. jack abbot making you talk to him, kid when you slip out of the room after a hard loss because there were too many times that he didn’t, and it’s still fucking with him. jack abbot bringing you tea instead of coffee because otherwise your hands will start shaking around 2 AM. jack abbot having to be held back by shen when a patient in chairs keeps talking to you like they have no sense. jack abbot dragging you up to the roof and not leaving until you eat the half of the burrito he paid $10 dollars extra to have brought to him directly because all he’s seen you nibble on was some hershey kisses ellis left for you two nights ago. watching the sun come up before walking you to your car, and not breathing deep enough until you text him home. jack abbot seeing himself in your willingness to bend if it could save the patient and hesitance to accept deserved praise, and doing everything he can to hone that shit. build you up and keep you there, regardless if it looks like he’s picking favorites. you’re good. great, and the gust of fresh air that keeps blowing him back from the edge…

Study of Drapery (1900) by Alphonse Mucha

wet.

Pairing: Jack Abbot x Female!Reader

Summary: Not so innocently texting your boyfriend during his shift.

Warnings: 18+ MDNI, smut, Jack Abbot being Jack Abbot, short little blurb

You were tired, exhausted and looking forward to just crawling into bed and melting into sleep because it’s been a long fucking shift. But you needed to text Jack first. Just- just a little something for him to think about until he gets home in the morning and you have some time to kill while you wait for your pizza.

[You]: Hi baby

[Jack]: Hi

[Jack]: What’s wrong?

[You]: Nothing. Just miss you.

[You]: Are you busy?

[Jack]: Yes.

[Jack]: But I always have time for you.

You can see the three dots indicating Jack is typing some more but you’re faster. You already planned this. Immediately you send him a picture- the picture you took right before texting him. Clad in his old army shirt, only his old army shirt but you’ll let him figure that out in a bit. The dots stop. You smile victoriously for a moment when they reappear.

[Jack]: That’s not what I meant when I said I always have time for you.

[Jack]: Fuck

[Jack]: What do you have on under?

You knew your boyfriend well enough that he can’t leave it alone. The thrill of seeing you when he’s supposed to be focusing at work. He will absolutely be thinking about it until he gets home in the morning, he won’t be able to last 10 hours without you. And to respond to his question, you send the other picture you took. On your front, back arched just a little so he can get a clear view of your ass that has nothing on it- bare and needing him.

[Jack]: Robby almost saw that

[You]: Do you think he’d like it?

[You]: Or this maybe?

Your next picture was sent. Laying on his side of the bed, shirt pushed up so he can get a clear view of your chest- how you’re grabbing your breast and how you definitely don’t have any underwear on. He needed to excuse himself, needed to find an empty on call room because he’s fucking half hard at this point and the only thing that’s calming him down is cumming into his own hand so he can focus on work- then as soon as he gets home he’ll fuck you into the mattress as punishment for distracting him. Maybe he’ll let you cum. He hasn’t decided yet. Jack locks himself in the viewing room, leaning against the door and trying to unbuckle his belt but you send him another fucking picture and- oh. No. No- not a picture, a video. He’s sure he had a stroke because you’re whining his name and pushing your fingers inside yourself and- ‘Fuck- Jack. I need you so bad right now baby.’ He can’t stand it. He calls you.

“Baby?” You answer, whining into the phone the way you know he likes. How you sound so pathetic and desperate for him. Like you can’t do this without him. Breathing a bit heavier, you ask him to help you.

“Fuck- you know you can’t do this to me at work honey.” He grits out, licking his palm and sighing in relief once his hand is finally wrapped around his cock- tipping his head back to rest against the door from the feeling. He’s already leaking at the tip and trying to think about how you’d be on your knee for him right now. Like last week, yanking him into the supply room because you couldn’t handle it anymore- dropping to your knees and ignoring the way he said someone could walk in on your both but- you made quick work of him.

“But I need you Jack-” You sigh into the phone, sounding so desperate and sweet in his ear and he can hear you shuffling around and moaning- the little gasp that you make because you know he likes it when he slides his cock or his fingers inside you and it just involuntarily happens. He can picture your spread out on the bed, phone on speaker next to you so you can use both hands- shirt pushed up over your breasts so you can palm and play with your nipples like you need, maybe licking your fingers to get them wet before your toy with your clit. Fuck or maybe you’ve been playing with yourself for hours already and just need him to help you cum. Jack thinks about all the possibilities while stroking his cock to the sounds of your moans and whines and-

“Fuck baby, you need me? How wet are you? Tell me.” He needed to hear it- hear how wet you’ve been just thinking about him. He starts stroking faster and bites his lip to hold in his moans. Fuck maybe he can get you to FaceTime him so he can watch you and see it and-

“Jack- baby I’m so fucking wet,” you don’t give him a moment to respond, your tone has changed and- “wet like my fucking laundry that you didn’t put in the dryer.” Dial tone. That’s all he heard. And somewhere he can hear you cackling to yourself because he’s breathing hard and his cock is still in his hand and- fuck. He was so fucking close- trying to call you back but it goes to voicemail. You weren’t three fingers deep like he thought- you were on the couch, still in his shirt but also his sweats and devouring the pizza you ordered along with his super fancy beer that he doesn’t drink often. You unmute the TV, settling back against the couch and smiling to yourself when your phone keeps ringing.

[Jack]: Answer me.

[Jack]: Now.

[Jack]: Baby I’m sorry please…

[Jack]: Wait until I fucking get home.

[Jack]: Send me another picture so I can cum at least.

When he gets home he better rewash your fucking laundry, dry it, and fold it. But not until after he shoves his tongue inside you and makes up for it. One final text pulls you from your plotting and-

[Jack]: I came.

Of course he fucking did.