Sundays Are Meant For Lazy Mornings And Trips To Tjmaxx. Normally You Wouldn’t Dream About Going To

emilia perez first loss 🙂‍↕️🙂‍↕️🙂‍↕️🙂‍↕️🙂‍↕️🍾🥂🥂🍾🍾🍾🍾🥂🥂🥂🥂

It's the same picture

So is Italian!reader a ballerina cappuccina or espressora senora

LMAO she can def be both. I think her espressora signora is something that’s more for Jack tho..

On my period right now and SUFFERING 😭😭😭 can’t stop thinking about carmy taking care of you on your first day and making you a steak for dinner 😭😭 and just keeping you warm ugh

No because Carmy will take care of you when you’re on your period; it’s canon idc. He’s the best caregiver ever.

He runs to the store after his shift at the restaurant and picks up anything you need, pads, tampons, ibuprofen, literally whatever you ask. He is not one of those guys that gets freaked out about buying period products—thank you Sugar for desensitizing him.

Carmy brings home a whole cut of steak in a little to go box to cook for you at the apartment. He does not like cooking after a long day a work, but for you? Oh, he will cook a whole five course meal if you asked.

Anyways, he finishes up the steak and brings it to the bedroom, along with one of those bed trays to sit it on. He also has a glass of water and two ibuprofen in hand for you.

If you want cuddles? He will give you all the cuddles in the world. If you want a tummy massage to help with the cramps? He’s ON it.

Oh, and also he 100% buys you a brown bear warmie that heats up in the microwave for your tummy. That way it’s like he’s always with you giving you a warm cuddle, even when he can’t be there.

Put Him on Speaker

summary : Jack gets home from a long night shift, exhausted and unreadable as always. When Robby calls for a quick update, you decide to test his patience—climbing into his lap and pushing until he breaks.

word count : 1,518

a/n : this is for the one anon in my inbox! a bit shorter than usual, expect something with more substance once finals are over next friday unless I procrastinate studying, then you'll get something sooner

content/warning: explicit sexual content, reader giving oral while jack is on the phone with robby, bratty teasing, silent/dom jack, power dynamics, spit/slick/throatplay mentions, phone call tension, implied punishment sex, language, 18+ only MDNI

It’s a few minutes past 7:00 a.m. when Jack finally walks through the door.

You don’t need to check the time—you know it by the rhythm. The precise click of the deadbolt, the hollow knock of his boot hitting hardwood, then the softer drag of the other. Not a limp. Not pain. Just the quiet, practiced gait of a man who’s used to carrying more than he should. He moves slower after shifts like this—like the night didn’t end, just rearranged itself and followed him home in silence.

You listen from the couch as the weight of him settles into the apartment. Keys hit the counter with a dull clatter. His backpack lands against the back of the kitchen chair, the sound muted but final. Then the crack and hiss of a beer bottle opening, followed by a long, scraped-out breath like it’s been sitting in his lungs since midnight.

You don’t get up.

You’re curled sideways in the corner of the couch, legs bare, the hem of one of his old Penguins shirts skimming the tops of your thighs. The blanket’s twisted somewhere near your feet. You’re scrolling absently through your phone, pretending not to track every move he makes with your breath.

You don’t look at him. “Rough night?”

Jack grunts. The kind that says everything and nothing. “Watched a kid try to clamp off an artery with a fucking Kelly.”

You wince, lips twitching. “Oof.”

“I earned this beer.”

You glance over your shoulder, eyes catching on the strain in his jaw. “It’s not even light out. You starting early with the day-drinking and trauma-dumping?”

He snorts, dragging the bottle to his mouth. “Only if you beg me for it.”

You tilt your head, faux-sweet. “Why are you grumpy? I waited up.”

That gets a flicker of softness in his eyes. “You always do.”

You stretch, slow and easy, your shirt riding up your thighs like it has a mind of its own. “I didn’t say I waited nicely.”

His gaze drops. Tracks the length of your legs like a man committing the lines to memory. “Should’ve known.”

You shift, tuck your legs beneath you, chin tipped with interest. “Was it the post-op guy from yesterday?”

Jack rolls his shoulder, still rubbing at the back of his neck like the shift’s clinging to him. “Yeah. McKay was ready to page IR, but Dana stopped her. Mohan flagged the labs hours ago—picked it up before it spiraled. Saved the guy a ton of unnecessary bullshit.”

You smile—just enough to be smug. “So you’re saying Dr. Mohan was right.”

He exhales hard through his nose. “I’m saying she wasn’t wrong.”

Jack crosses the room and drops onto the couch with the kind of full-bodied heaviness that only happens after an overnight in hell. His scrubs are creased, collar damp from scrubbing out, and he smells like antiseptic, cold metal, and the hollow sterility of trauma bay walls. There’s a settled tension in his body, like exhaustion and adrenaline are still playing tug-of-war under his skin.

He leans his head back. Closes his eyes.

The quiet stretches long enough to start sinking in—until his phone buzzes against the armrest.

Jack groans, already bracing. “If that’s Gloria, I swear to Christ—”

He glances at the screen. Jaw flexes. “Robby.”

You raise a brow. “Your work husband calling for pillow talk?”

“He’s covering days,” Jack mutters, already lifting the phone. “Wants to know if the patient made it through the night.”

“You’re off the clock,” you say, sliding easily into his lap. “Can’t it wait?”

He flicks a tired look at you. “Five minutes.”

“You said five minutes last time.”

“This time I mean it.”

You narrow your eyes. “You’re gonna regret that.”

He smirks, but it’s faint. Tired. “You always say that.”

Then he answers, voice shifting in an instant—cool, even, professional. Doctor mode.

“Yeah,” he says. His grip finds your hip as you settle in. “Vitals held. He coded once overnight, but charge caught it early.”

You roll your hips. Just enough to make sure he feels it.

His fingers tighten.

“I left instructions. Hourly monitoring,” he says, like nothing’s happening. Like you’re not already winding him up.

You press your lips to the side of his neck. “You’re really gonna do this whole call while pretending you’re not already hard for me?”

He doesn’t answer. Doesn’t need to. His grip answers for him.

“She’s covering now,” Jack adds, voice sharp, eyes fixed straight ahead.

You slide off his lap, slow and sweet, and kneel between his legs.

Jack’s eyes drop to you. His pupils darken.

He mouths: Don’t.

You mouth: You shouldn’t have answered.

You palm him through his scrubs—feel him twitch, thick and eager under your touch. When you tug the waistband down, he falls heavy into your hand, hot and hard and already leaking against your skin.

“No, I’m listening,” Jack says, but his voice hitches, subtle.

You stroke him once—just a tease. Then lean in and lick a slow line along the underside.

“BP held. No fever. No new complaints,” he grits, every word controlled. Distant. Like you’re not kneeling between his knees with spit on your chin and a grin in your eyes.

You hum around him as you take him into your mouth.

Jack’s voice stumbles. “Still stable. Same overnight.”

You suck slow, deep, obscene. Your hand works what your mouth can’t reach. You pop off with a wet sound and a smirk. “Put him on speaker.”

“No.”

“What, scared he’ll hear how good I make you feel?”

Jack doesn’t look at you. Doesn’t answer. Just grips the phone like it’s the only tether he’s got.

You take him deeper—messier, filthier. Your spit coats everything, dripping from your lips, your chin, your fingers curled tight around the base. He twitches on your tongue, every breath he takes more ragged than the last.

“No,” he says into the phone, voice thinning at the edges. “I’m fine. Just—tired.”

You gag around him on purpose, let it echo wet and obscene. Then pull back slowly, deliberately, looking up through your lashes, mouth shiny and wicked.

“Gonna come with him still listening?”

Jack's hand lifts, covering the phone’s speaker. “Shut the fuck up,” he whispers, barely audible, like it’s carved straight from the edge of control. “Keep going and I swear to God—”

But he never finishes the threat—because you don’t stop. You go harder, meaner, your mouth a mess, your hand slick and ruthless at the base. His cock twitches against your tongue, spit coating everything—your lips, your chin, your fingers. Your throat tightens around him, your jaw aching, but you don’t let up.

Jack’s other hand fists the cushion, knuckles bone-white. His chest is rising fast now, breath sharp and uneven, like he’s losing the fight he won’t admit he’s in. Like you're dragging him under, and he’s letting you.

“Yeah,” he bites out. “Just send the labs—I’ll deal with it later.”

He looks down at you, jaw tight, breath shallow, eyes dark with a fury that barely masks how hard he is for you.

“Robby—I’ve gotta call you back.”

“Everything alright?” Robby asks.

Jack’s voice drops an octave. “It will be.”

He hangs up.

Then he looks down at you.

And everything in his face is wrecked.

"You’re in so much fucking trouble.”

You moan around him, smug.

He thrusts once—deep, sudden, overwhelming. You choke, recover, and go harder.

You’re a mess—slurping, gagging, swallowing around him like it’s the only thing you’ve ever been good at. He’s pulsing now, hips twitching, mouth slack.

“Shit—baby—fuck—I’m gonna—”

You suck him deeper. Tighter. He breaks.

His whole body jerks forward. He comes down your throat with a raw, guttural groan. You swallow every last drop.

He breathes like he’s just come up for air, chest rising in sharp, broken pulls. You don’t stop—not until his thigh jerks beneath you and his hand clamps around your wrist, firm and final, forcing you to still.

You wipe your mouth with the back of your hand. Catch your breath.

Then you crawl back into his lap, smug as hell, lips swollen and slick, like you didn’t just make a mess of him on purpose.

Jack doesn’t speak. Just grabs your chin in one firm hand and drags you into a kiss—slow, punishing, laced with quiet vengeance.

Then, low in your ear, deadly calm: “If he calls back,” he growls, “I’m putting you on speaker. Let him hear how desperate you sound when you’re acting like a fucking brat.”

He shifts beneath you, hand sliding down to grip your waist tight, grounding himself.

“You think you’ve won,” he murmurs, voice dark and steady. “But you’re not even close to finished.”

He leans in, breath searing the shell of your ear. “Get up. Strip. Face down on the couch.”

Your breath stalls. Heart pounds. He hasn’t raised his voice once. Doesn’t need to.

“I let you have your little game,” he murmurs, all quiet. “Now it’s my turn.”

Companionship | pt. 14

Dr. Michael “Robby” Robinavitch x f!reader

Previous | Next

Summary: You two have a little getaway.

[ Series Masterlist ]

Note: This took a hot minute lol I kept rewriting the first bit even after the rest was written, and then my dog got a bad infection (he’s okay now). It’s been a time lol I hope you enjoy!

Thank you for all the comments, likes and reblogs last chapter💜

Word Count: 2.7k

Warnings: age gap, SMUT (MINORS DNI), p in v, oral (f! receiving), fingering, light dirty talk, pet names (honey, sweetheart, my love), foul language

not beta read

On the night of Michael’s birthday, he grew more reserved. Dinner came and went with you trying to coax him back out of his shell — and you hoped it was only his nerves about you meeting his friends afterwards. You were nervous enough for the both of you, but you began to worry he was having second thoughts.

In the car, he said, “I’m nearly twice your age now.”

You leaned back into the passenger seat with a long sigh. You both sat quietly for several moments, Michael staring out the window while you rubbed your thumb along your other palm. The age gap seemed to hold steady over your heads — even as you were falling in love. He was now closer to nineteen years older rather than eighteen, and would be until your birthday later in the year. It was clear the near two decades were weighing on him.

You reached over to grab his hand, “And so what? We’ve discussed this.”

Michael ran his other hand over his face, letting out a huff of air. “I don’t want to steal your youth.”

“Michael, you’re not stealing anything.” You told him, “This is a two way street. One I’m actively choosing.”

He didn’t say anything, just kept looking out at the parking lot. He squeezed your hand with a heavy sigh.

“Do you feel like I’m stealing something from you? I don’t know…I haven’t fully gotten my life together yet, I’m still waiting to get my certifications…I can’t always be there in a way someone older might be able to—”

His eyes were on you while he shook his head, “Not at all. That’s not…I want you as you are.”

You held his gaze and smiled, trying to convey the same sentiment, “That’s what I want, too.”

“I’m sorry. I knew this wasn’t going to be easy or normal. I don’t want to keep chasing you away, I just wasn’t expecting to feel this way today.”

“Well, I’d rather you tell me what's going on in your head rather than bury it.”

He nodded, “And what happens when I turn 50?”

“That’s five years away. It’s not like I’m immune to aging…I’ll age five years, too.” You said. “And I’d hope we’d have made a life together by that point. We can deal with how you feel about it together.”

“I like the sound of that.”

You smiled, and he leaned over to kiss you.

The drive to the bar was quiet, but nerves had invaded your belly at meeting people from Michael’s life. You had been able to learn how to handle the judgment from strangers, but it felt like a whole new ballgame with people in his life.

Jack was tough to read, and it felt like Dana had been an easier sell. Her husband, Benji, had been easy enough to talk to, and took some of the conversational weight off your shoulders. Perhaps since he also did not work in the hospital, or perhaps he took pity on you, either way, it was relieving.

When asked about it, you told them about school and graduating — but it made you feel too young. One could attend university at any time in their life, but all of them had finished closer to when you were born. You tried not to be uncomfortable about it.

“How did you guys meet?” Benji asked, sipping his beer.

Your eyes flickered up to Michael, trying to conceal your alarm. Why hadn’t you discussed it? Did he want to tell them the truth or—

“Coffee shop. Our orders got mixed up.” Michael supplied, the lie passing easily from his lips.

Though, you had met at a coffee shop, so it wasn’t a straight up lie.

You forced a smile looking back to Benji, “We ended up talking for a while and I gave him my number.” Again, not a total lie, but your cheeks burned.

Dana’s eyes moved back and forth between you, “You could’ve told me she was your girlfriend when she came in, Robinavitch. No need for all that secretive VIP crap.”

You watched Michael cringe slightly at the use of his full name.

“I wasn’t yet.” You interjected, smiling shyly. “It took awhile for us to figure that part out.”

The night continued after with less pressing questions and easier small talk. They each traded stupid stories about patients, or the weirdest thing they found swallowed or inserted on x-ray. With Benji there, it made you feel less out of the loop, and he waved them off.

“Don’t you guys work there enough to not talk about it after hours?” Benji asked.

“Never after hours.” said Jack with a shrug.

Michael rolled his eyes playfully, “Fine, fine — how’re the kids?”

Another hour and they were all departing. Dana pulled you into a quick hug, whispering, “You’re good for him.” in your ear. You had grinned wide, relief flooding your system as you thanked the woman. Everyone parted ways after, and Michael took your hand as you walked to his car.

“They all seem like good people. I hope they liked me.”

Michael kissed the side of your head, “Of course they did. You make it easy.”

Your eyes met his brown, “You think so?”

“I know so.”

Before opening the passenger side door, he turned you around. He was fidgety, his hand growing clammy while the other rubbed the back of his neck.

“You okay?” You asked tentatively, squeezing his hand.

He cleared his throat, “I can’t really even begin to tell you how much I enjoy our time together, how much I enjoy you. I’ve—this hasn’t been easy and we had a rough start, but I’m glad you’re in my life. I love you.”

Your breath caught and you stared at him wide-eyed. Your heart thudded hard against your ribs and you reminded yourself to breathe.

When your thoughts returned, you smiled at him, “I love you, too, Michael”

—

“You sure know how to play the long con.” You said, eyes still bleary from the early morning as trees raced by.

Michael looked over at you with an eyebrow raised, before looking back at the road.

“Murder me in a cabin in the woods?” You elaborated, “Peaceful, quiet. It’d be great if it wasn’t so cliche.”

Michael laughed loudly, shaking his head. “Does that have anything to do with the documentary you insisted on watching last night?”

You had barely been able to fall asleep until Michael had pulled you into his arms, making you feel safe and protected. You loved those documentaries, despite how dark they were, or how many lights you had to turn on to get through them.

You sipped your coffee, “Of course not.”

“I see far too much blood and guts on a daily basis; I’d never spoil the cabin like that.” He said, tone momentarily slipping into something serious. “Besides, I like you too much. Thought I’d keep you around.”

You laughed, “How romantic.”

“I’m plenty romantic!” He said with a smile, “Cabin in the woods, a fire, good wine, the works. I even remembered to snag your favorite rom-coms from your apartment last week.”

You hid your grin by glancing out the window at the world speeding by. “And to think, you did all that to take me fishing…”

“You said you wanted to learn!”

Laughing, you said, “No harm in trying something once.”

He reached over the center console to grab hold of your hand, “I’m glad we’re getting some time away. It’ll be nice to not worry about work for a bit…”

“Or studying.” You added, intertwining your fingers. “Thank you for bringing me, I’ve been looking forward to it.”

He smiled softly, and you thought about all the feelings swirling in your chest. All of them easily spelling out love. Even after confessing it to each other weeks ago, it still felt new and exciting. Like everything had finally clicked into place after dancing around it forever.

His cabin was miles off the highway, found after traveling several winding roads, a long driveway nestled between towering trees. The trees eventually gave way to the cabin, quaint but with plenty of character. A picnic bench sat to the right of the structure, where a set of stairs led into a screened in porch. A large built in firepit sat several feet away from it.

The back door opened onto the porch, which held an outdoor dining table and a few outdoor loungers. The land began to slope downward right where the porch started, free of trees that made the view of the mountains all the easier to take in. The forest picked back up again about a quarter of a mile down, where it seemed the land leveled out again. Jutting out just slightly from the cabin was a storage closet, holding some cushions for said loungers, an umbrella for the table, and some odds and ends.

You took a deep breath in, and leaned into Michael when you breathed out. It was quiet and serene, the silence only filled by birds and buzzing insects. You could only slightly see one of his neighbor’s houses through the trees, but otherwise, it was completely private.

“You sure do know how to pick ‘em.”

Michael looked at you and smiled, “Yeah, I do.”

—

After an unsuccessful fishing trip, a hike and a long soak in the clawfoot tub, you emerged in the kitchen to see what Michael was doing. Uncooked burgers sat on parchment paper on a sheet tray, while Michael was putting a bowl of pasta salad in the fridge.

You followed after him and sat on one of the loungers while Michael cooked the burgers. He was humming an old blues song while you took in the view of the retreating sun over the mountains.

Dinner was spent under the sky, with quiet banter and easy conversation — and you savored more than just the meal. Pittsburgh could be busy, messy and complicated, but stepping back in a secluded cabin, you knew you wouldn’t change a thing about your life.

Cleaning up dinner, you both settled on the couch, turning on one of the rom-coms he had brought — How to Lose a Guy in 10 Days — and you curled into his side.

By the time the credits were rolling, you found yourself in his lap, kissing up his neck while his hands explored your figure. Your heart sped up in your chest, moving your hands to his hair. You tried not to grind your hips into his, trying to be slow — but your mind grew hazy with lust.

“Mike.” You breathed against his lips, half a whine, half a plea.

Like he could read your mind, his hands were on your hips, pushing just enough to where you got the hint and stood up. Your lips never left his, even as he led you to the bedroom, hand in your hair.

Once on the bed, Michael removed your pants and trailed kisses up your inner thigh. Your face heated and you suppressed the urge to beg him to move faster. You never wanted to rush him, to be painfully young in wanting it all without the chance to savor it, but his hot breath on your skin and his teeth nipping at your flesh made you feral. You were already squirming before he even situated himself to your wet heat.

Discarding your panties, Michael left a wet kiss to your clit, and you jolted at the sensation. One of his hands traveled up your torso to grab hold of your breast, fingers twirling around the nipple, while his other was locked around your knee. His eyes flickered up to meet yours, and you took in a deep breath to steady yourself.

Your clit was throbbing, spurred on by the sensation on your nipple. He held your gaze as he licked a stripe from your entrance to your clit. You moaned, gripping the wrist that was at your breast and held onto him like it would keep you tethered.

His tongue was an expert, and always left you seeing stars — your orgasm never taking very long, especially not when his fingers rubbed at that spongy spot inside you. He sucked, licked and devoured everything you gave him like a man starved, and it thrilled you more to know he was enjoying it. Even when he was being slow or teasing, he never seemed to mind how long it took.

Michael’s fingers curled upwards, tongue tracing circles on your clit until the wave took you in. You cried out his name, fingers in the bed sheets while the heat barreled through your system. He had a habit of not stopping, even when you grew overstimulated, sometimes eagerly even trying to coax a second out of you.

This time, though, you pulled him up to kiss him hungrily. The taste of yourself on his tongue made your thoughts stutter, before bringing him closer.

Without warning, you flipped you both so Michael was on his back and he stared up wide-eyed at you. Your shirt was easily discarded.

He smirked, hands going to your hips while you undid his pants. Pulling off his shirt, he pulled you in for a quick kiss. He was straining against his boxers, hard and immediately at attention when you pulled back his boxers. You were quick with the condom before steadying yourself over him. You leaned down to place a delicate kiss to his lips.

You sunk down on him slowly, hissing as you adjusted to his size, hands on his chest. He groaned low in his throat and you pulsed at the sound, your hips meeting his.

“Yeah? Like hearing what you do to me, sweetheart?”

You grinned, nodding dumbly, pulling his hands from your hips up to your breasts. To be so full of him made your eyes water and you threw your head back to try to find your breath again.

“Feels so good.” You moaned, looking back into his eyes.

You moved up slowly, before grinding back down and trying to find a pace you liked. Michael stared up at you, eyes dark, meeting you halfway with thrusts of his own. Heat coiled low again, pooling throughout your abdomen.

Michael moved a hand to your clit to rub lazy circles, and it burned deliciously — overstimulation yielding to pleasure. You moaned, moving up just enough for him to brush against that spot inside you.

“You look so good like that, honey. Fuck, you ride my cock so well.”

Your pussy fluttered at the words, eyes screwing shut. You felt lost in the winding euphoria coiling tighter. Michael gripped your hip while keeping his thumb rubbing your clit, thrusting up into you as you grew tighter and tighter.

Michael choked out a moan, and you hummed a mewl as you approached your climax.

“Mike—Mike—“ you whined, “So close—don’t stop, please.”

“Gonna fill you up, my love, come on. Come on my cock, know you want to.” He ground out. “You look so pretty when you do.”

You moaned low when the coil snapped and the white-hot heat invaded your vision and took over your senses. It rushed throughout your body and a single tear escaped the corner of your eye.

Michael was relentless after that, even as you were whining from the overstimulation, he kept going. Chasing his own high, but he never let up on your clit.

You felt completely blindsided by your third orgasm, rolling off the waves of your second until you were fluttering around him again. Crying out and squirming, you met a few of his thrusts in a cock-drunk daze.

Pleasure contorted Michael's face until he was coming with you, a groan low in his throat. His thrusts grew sloppy until they slowed. He twitched and you felt the warmth of it inside you, blooming upwards.

Your hairline was wet with sweat, and you breathed heavily. You leaned down to lay on his chest, his cock still stuffed inside you, but it had pleasure still echoing in your system.

Moving your head to his shoulder, Michael kissed your forehead. One hand trailed light lines up and down your spine, while you kept your hands on his biceps trying to catch your breath.

“I don’t think I ever wanna leave.”

Michael chuckled lightly, and brought you in for a kiss.

[ Next ]

want to join any of my taglists? shoot me a message!

Companionship taglist: @queenslandlover-93 @clementine111002 @virgomillie @emily-b @kaygilles @lt-jakeseresin @imonmykneessir @kniselle @gabsgabsvaz @rosiepoise88 @calivia @holdonimwalkingmysnail @valhallavalkyrie9 @blahkateisdone @shadowhuntyi @fuckalrighty @elli3williams @yournerdmodziata @i-know-i-can @dickheadturner @dcgoddess @pittobsessed @glamorizethechaos @blueb33ry-cat @whatdoesntkillyoumakesyoustrange @burningpenguinwitch @evienorville @equallyshaw @heyysolsister @justrandomthougt @babygirlagenda @lauracantsleep @rogersbarnesxx @longlivecandice @misshoneypaper @moonshooter @catmomstyles3

Dr. Robby taglist: @cherriready @seeyalaterinnovator @my-soulmate-is-mycroft @bxxbxy @18lkpeters @flyinglama @hagarsays @mayabbot @anakingreys @happyfox43 @dark-twisted-and-mechanical-mind @sarah-the-bird-nerd @girl-obsessed-with-things

(50 tags have been reached with the combo of all three taglists, so unfortunately some of Dr. Robby & all of The Pitt taglist for this series will be added in a reblog right after this is posted - I’m sorry if this is an inconvenience!)

I’ve gotten a lot more comfortable with bigger age gaps since this started. Sometimes I forget I aged Michael down slightly lol

Robby’s Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Day up next!

THE GASP I GUSPED WITH THIS OMG

i think we need to make jack abbot the nastiest freak in the entire world

𝐣. 𝐚𝐛𝐛𝐨𝐭 – 𝐦𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐲 (𝐬𝐦𝐮𝐭; +𝟏𝟖) | this got out of hand. god forgive me. warnings are that this is all porn and no plot, very gross, language, dirty talk, lots of bodily fluids, squirting (!), pussy slapping, fingering (f receiving), oral sex (m + f receiving), 69, overstimulation, jack being the "nastiest freak in the entire world, very very mention of robby x reader (literally a sentence). minors dni!

“Now, what’s this here all about? S’pose to be watching a movie and you’re too busy soaking my favorite panties…”

Jack mumbles the accusation like he hasn’t been snogging at a spot just below your ear, and pressing at your clit for the past twenty minutes. No matter how sweet you whine or gentle you squirm, he’s got you trapped atop the mattress, hand between your legs while his other arm hooks around your shoulders to keep you still.

“Fuck the movie,” you groan out, finally finding the room to grind your hips into where his fingers have slipped past the waistband of your shorts and underwear. You aren’t allowed very long to sit in the warm pulse as it spreads, Jack rescinding the pressure the pinch lightly at you swelling pearl. “Ah.”

The man chuckles at your squeal, tongue flicking the shell of your ear before dragging down to lap at your neck. He sucks in a hiss after a few licks, not noticing the hand you're snaking to the thick bulge at the crotch of his sweatpants until you squeeze the girth and release a breathy moan.

He tilts his head so he can look you in the eyes as your hand drags up and down, gripping him. You both hold the stare, hot and unafraid, just as Jack’s tongue snakes back out of his mouth and licks a long swipe across your bottom lip. He doesn’t stop until your mouth is slick with his spit before his lids finally shut so he can focus on curling his tongue to rake against yours. Jack sucks, consuming you, bucking into your palm.

“Grab the towel, baby,” Jack huffs, barely pulling away to give the soft command. He kisses where your eyebrows pull together with an entertained smile, nodding his head to the edge of the mattress.

Swiveling your head, there it is. The towel, folded up tight and waiting patiently. You turn back to Jack with blinking eyes, who’s still grinning at you. A few thick beats of silence pass before you grin back, pecking his chin and reaching for the fabric.

It doesn’t take long for Jack to get you settled. All he lets you do is watch as he diligently spreads the towel and moves the pillows, shifting on his side and patting the bed when he’s finally satisfied. “C’mere, gorgeous.”

You fit against him easy, and he slides off your shorts with even less trouble.

“Fuck me,” you hear Jack mumble to himself, his hand returning to your center and finding that you’ve completely ruined the thin layer of material. “Jesus, look at all that.”

Head against the pillows, you stare and buzz with poorly-concealed anticipation. You’re aching with a muddied throb, clenching around nothing as Jack peels your pantnies from your slit with a measured exhale. He doesn’t even look to see when he throws the garment as you automatically shift and spread your legs. So much for them being his favorite...

“How much you think you got in you tonight?”

Jack’s question is followed by him spitting at his fingers, and the sight of him freezes you into silence. His chest and biceps puff proudly in the simple t-shirt he’s sporting, a vein stretches up his neck like lighting, and his eyes are determined yet overcast with a haze of fervor. You swallow at his build, peeking down to catch a glimpse of where his cock sits completely solid and visible through the groin of his sweats. 

You know better than to reach for it now, but it doesn’t make the desire any less compelling. Head flooding with the image of his tip angry and leaking, shaft twitching at it pulses out a load, an involuntary whimper forces itself out of you.

“What was that?” Jack asks you, stare twinkling with satisfaction when your delayed response is interrupted by a silent scream. He studies you, tongue peeking out of his mouth while he slides two fingers knuckle deep inside you.

Your chest heaves when he immediately curls until the pads of his fingers knock right across your g-spot. You gasp, already arching from the bed as Jack massages the location with heavy strokes, thumb angling to frame steady circles around your clit. He pairs all of this with a dipping of his head to suck where your nipples pebble through your tank.

Not one care in the world does he give to the wet patches he’s forming across your shirt. His teeth nip at your bust, and your chest hums with a dizzying thrum. His fingers continue to work you, your pussy strangling their thickness as Jack increases the speed with a grunt into your still-covered tits.

“Am I hittin’ that spot, baby? Did I find it?”

Fuck Jack because he already knows the answer to that question, but also Fuck, Jack because he keeps the pump of his fingers at a perfect tilt, his thumb hasn’t stopped its kneading of you either, and you’re damn near tears.

The electric feeling rooted just below your belly is blooming something profound. It sweeps across you, numbing out Jack’s groans and the squelches that sound every time he drives deeper inside you. You’ve oozed out a mess out along his fingers and palm, and you sniffle when a familiar urge starts its overtaking of you.

Jack drags his mouth back near yours, mumbling through the kisses he plants at the corner of your mouth.

“You’re almost there, aren’t you? Keep choking my fingers, just like that.” His demand barely reaches your ears, blood rushing past them and making you feel as if you’re under water.

Gasping in short breaths, you’re no longer able to control the volume of your moans, crying out a string of unintelligible words as your legs begin to shake with a new vigor You aren’t aware you’ve already started to surge, but Jack is well wise to each of the gushes that splash against his hand.

“Thaaat’s it,” Jack observes, biting his lip at your writhing and the blind clutch of his arm while you douse the towel beneath you. “That’s a girl. Keep going for me, alright? You got a few more in you, I know you do.”

Your gripping of the man does nothing to stop the pressure from rolling across you once again. The mewls you release are more slurred than the lasts, pussy pulsing as Jack orchestrates another round of impressive cascades of fluid from your hole. You whine and cry, tears dripping a layer of moisture across your cheeks before a wave of something different cruises over you.

There’s no leaking of liquid from you this time but rather a decorating of his fingers with a creamy mixture that makes Jack's mouth water.

“Christ, look at you,” the man breathes, completely captivated. “Make a man lose his mind with a pussy that leaks like that, baby.”

Jack waits until the meat of your lips stops clenching to drag his fingers out of your hole. He takes his sweet time removing them, making sure to mumble out something about how he isn't quite done with you just yet and you’re levitating.

He maneuvers, shuffling you to lean closer into his side. Your eyes crack open only just, still panting but reaching out for the fingers that had just hauled you across the world and back.

The breath that Jack inhales fills his lungs with a tight heat, staring with hooded lids when you open your mouth and engulf his middle finger. His jaw clenches at how your tongue swirls, cock straining almost painfully where it presses against your thigh.

“You gonna save some for me?”

Jack smirks at your slow nod, whispering out a quick good girl before licking a stripe up his palm. Your eyes stay met the entire time, working in tandem to clean his hand so close that your noses bump a few times. Moans tying together, neither of you stop until his skin only slightly gleams with the reminisce of you.

When his finger slides from your mouth, Jack tugs you in for a wet kiss.

“Sorry about your sheets,” you vocalize between kisses but you pout when he pulls away. He looks over you with squinted eyes, sighing as he returns to a lean on his elbow.

“...you’re joking, right?”

You don’t have enough energy to hide your smile, lips curling into a grin as you stretch your limp legs. You sag closer into Jack’s welcoming side, smile widening when you catch him rolling his eyes.

“Just for that, I should make you wash ‘em,” he deadpans, arm reaching back to fold behind his head. Somehow in your haze, he still looks a dream.

You give yourself a long moment to let your eyes dance across the entirety of him, head lulling away from his chest to get a better look at one spot in particular.

Jack manages to stay silent when you free his thick member from his sweatpants, though a long moan can’t help but seep out when you throw a leg over him and fold at the waist.

Maybe it's the twisting of your tongue around his tip, or the smell of your lingering mess that causes it. He decides it's definitely both plus the way you flip off the shirt he’d dirtied with his spit before bending once again. You fit in not more than two licks across of the veins on the underside of his cock and only pull one grunt from his chest before he tugs you backwards by the waist.

“Jack–”

You can feel his smirk as he drags you until you’re hovering over his face. 

“You’re my water, gorgeous… all my fuckin’ air,” he invokes, tongue reaching to kitten lick along your slit. Eyes rolling, Jack sinks you all the way onto his tongue, and groans at your taste. Swallowing whatever his sucking can gather, he partakes in the rare action of letting his eyes shut as he commences his devour of you.

Lips smacking messily, his sounds come out hoarse. They’re broken and nearing a desperation that rolls your stomach nicely. And despite how he’s reducing you back into a shaking mess, you still manage to circle a firm grip around his cock.

A weak thrust of Jack’s hips allows him to pump into your hand and his desired speed while still saving enough space in his head to flick over your clit at a furious pace. It’s when his tongue trades between dunking inside you and trailing back up to sweep at your still sensitive pearl that you flinch.

“Shit,” you declare shakily, hips rising just barely for a second to breathe. Jack just growls and circles his arms around your thighs without enough pressure to lower you back onto his mouth in record speed. “Ja-Jack, wait. I’m close–ah.”

“So am I, so don’t fuckin’ move again,” he grumbles with a slight strain. Sucking messily across your folds and inhaling you with a buried nose, he moves to plant his left foot against the mattress. Whining, you do as he says, remaining cemented to his mouth and slurping at his cock as best you can from when he has you.

You soon find that Jack wasn’t lying when he said he was close, as it only takes a few more short minutes of your sloppy, spit-slick sucking for him to detach from you with a loud groan that’s a mixture of several curses and your name.

“Yeah, right there.” There's a new wobble to his voice when you cup a hand under his balls to give them a gentle squeeze, cheeks hollowing with a little more pressure to really make him really feel it. “Right fucking there.”

You suck until you hear him hiss, pulling off with a pop and licking up the cum from his stomach that had missed your tongue. You end up warm with victory the way Jack has to take five seconds instead of three to catch his breath.

The warmth melts into a blistering heat when Jack regains his head, pulling you to sit up straight and properly ride his face. He helps with the grinding of your hips, one hand one your ass while the other plants onto your waist to guide you. Part of you worries that he isn’t getting enough oxygen with the way his pants have changed to heaves but you don’t dare pull away again.

Your palms find his chest as you approach another edge, mouth parted and voice mewling about how good his tongue feels when it pauses to jerk at your clit. Hips growing a mind of their own, the mattress starts a patterned squeak beneath the both of you as you desperately chase the crest of your peak.

Jack holds you as your vision goes white. You’re unable to breathe as another stream of your juices sloshes out, crashing against Jack’s mouth and face. He moans along with you, gladly swallowing down each drop that has the pleasure of finding his tongue.

With one last splash, you wrench yourself away from his lips and huff. Jack sniffs, not bothering to wipe his face before he kisses along the swell of your ass. Stubble scratching across your skin, he eyes your syrupy hole and grins to himself silently.

Three times is nothing to hang his head at, not with the way you were slurring out his name… even if he did miss Robby's record with you by two.

© 𝐬𝐮𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐡𝐨𝐞𝐯𝐚

need to be passed between jack and robby like a blunt at a party if i’m honest

tw: language, smut, threesome (mmf), dirty talk, bodily fluids (mentioned), f!reader, soft dom!rabbot, sub(ish)!reader, abbot and robby knowing each other really well, oral (m+ f receiving), riding, unprotected sex, creampie; please remember this is fiction <3 mdni/+18.

your attendings have had you like this forever, and you aren't sure how much longer you can take it.

jack sitting sturdy on robby's couch, cock out and stroking with one hand while the other wraps around your front to flick at your nipple. robby kneeling in front of you to bump his nose into your clit before sucking it with a spit-covered tongue.

and you–at the center, reclined against jack's middle, one of your legs thrown over robby's shoulders, and squirming every time either of them moans. lulling your head, you blink at the fat head of jack's cock and stick out your tongue.

jack grins for half a second, obliging you with a rub of the tip along your top lip before just barely lifting his hips to let you slip it further into your mouth. eyes soothing shut, you whimper at the salt that flashes across your tastebuds as your tongue snakes along the bottom of the his head.

the groan this pulls from jack catches the attention of robby, who grunts at the sight of abbot cock poking against the side of your cheek.

"keep sucking him just like that," robby commands in a soft gravel, pulling away but kind enough to not let you steep in the cold of missing him for too long. he kneels on the couch, leg bending to slip inside you at the perfect angle.

robby bottoms out with a punched breath, head back and throat bobbing as he swallows to keep his composure. he can't look at you or jack when he starts to fuck you, every hit of his middle against yours jerking your mouth back and forth onto jack's cock.

"son of a bitch, she's tight," robby rasps to no one yet it still makes jack smile through his latest shuddering moan as the men ease into a sweet pattern. jack, pushing his member across your tongue whenever robby's pulls backward. robby, plunging himself as deep as you'll let him as jack draw out his cock until the only thing you can suck at is his leaking tip.

a noise–a single, muffled word–sounds out of you and robby doesn't stop when he tilts his head to hear you better.

"what was that, sweetheart?"

"harder," jack answers for you through a bitten lip. "fuck her harder, mike."

"happy to oblige," declares, a suave tint to his voice as he takes a moment to blow out a quick breath.

with one palm on your side and the other clutching abbots thigh, robby quickens his pace. the three of you gasp and pant at every buck of his hips that starts to slam into yours at a new vigor.

you're staring to forget how to think about anything else except the two men filling you full, and it's every thing.

"yeeeah, give me that pussy, baby. let me fuck my cum into you so jack can fuck it deeper."

you're drooling through your moans all over jack's girth, choking with a few gags when his head grazes the back of your throat.

"that's right," robby wheezes out at your wet coughs. "gag on it, angel. he likes it messy, don't you, dr. abbot?"

"oh, you know it, dr. robby," jack rasps back, nudging his cock a few inches deeper until robby can see the buldge in your throat. he lets his cock pulse for a few short seconds before pulling back and patting your cheek as you gasp for air. "fuck yeah. attagirl."

robby's hips falter just a tad and he releases a short wail.

"mmm," he hums out, resuming his rhythm with a flushed face. "'m almost there. this pussy's too sweet for an old man like me..."

popping his cock from your mouth, abbot plants a hand under your chin and tilts your eyes his way.

"use those pretty words and tell him how much you want it, gorgeous. how much you need him to fill you up so you're nice and ready for me... and make sure to use his first name, too. he'll bust quicker."

a sound seeps out from the back of robby's throat, and he throws a side eye at jack's wink. the look melts into hooded-eyes and a dropped jaw when his drags his stare back to you.

"fuck, i want it," you sob out, lids fluttering a little at the feeling of robby's cock still driving inside you, touching somewhere warm and deep. "want it so bad, mikey, please–"

"oooh," robby groans, softening into a round of shaking along with and clenched eyes as he comes cause that's just not fair. his cock twitches over and over again, hunching to spill out his load on unsteady legs.

robby doesn't slide out of you until he knows he's present enough to help lower onto jack. the maneuvering happens with practiced simplicity.

jack parts spreads his thighs in a backwards lean, while you clench and stand. robby grabs your waist as you tilt against jack, who plants a kiss on your shoulder before lining his tip with your slit.

"jesus, you weren't kidding, rob," jack breathes out as you sink down.

"well, it'd be rude to joke about somebody as pretty as her, wouldn't it?" robby teases, eyes big and soft while he stares into you. he waits until jack's cock is all the way inside you before once again leaning onto the couch, this time on both knees.

you groan while robby settles himself, smushing you between both of their bodies. he guides one of your arms to hang around his thick neck, and you hiss as jack wastes no time thrusting up into you.

"use me to fuck him, sweetheart. hold my neck 'n bounce on it," robby mumbles, hand placing over the one abbot has on your hip.

"he's big," you slur to robby, arm bringing him impossibly closer. his cock slicks between to two of you, half hard and already throbbing again. "feels good."

jack's hips flinch at your words, and he shoves his cock deeper. you meet his thrusts with determined bounces, groaning at the sound of your ass slapping back against him.

he might be a inch or two shorter than robby, but jack's thickness has him rubbing at your walls with a force that make you sound as cock drunk as you feel. robby swallows most of them with a feverish kisses.

"don't forget to breathe, j," robby reminds against your mouth.

"fuck, 'm trying," jack wheezes out with a huff not one second later, causing robby to smile. "she's just so fuckin' warm, man."

using robby as leverage you and jack form an almost brutal pace. you clench around him at the perfect time, and jack has found a curve of his hips that drag his head against a spot that makes you hold robby tighter.

you're creaming out something devastating around jack, robby's load blending with the juices as well as you ride the man.

"wanna come," you plead, legs becoming so tired that you have to stop. the pause is swiftly ended by robby, who clasps you tight with certain arms.

he and jack work in tandem to drag you up and down jack's member, and your hands reach out to clutch both of them. the two catch eyes over your shoulder, and neither find the will to look away. robby groans quietly, the friction of your stomach enough to have his own cock rock solid and leaking once more.

"taking it like a damn champ, gorgeous," jack praises behind you, sweaty and panting. "take both of us so well. how 'bout i paint your insides just like mike did for being such a good girl, huh?"

seeing that you're teetering on the edge, robby reaches to grab his cock and glides the head across your clit. the sensation is more than enough to yank your orgasm from you, and you wail out with pulsing walls.

jack is following you soon after, clutching you with ragged breaths, pumping you well and full with rolling eyes and a myriad of profanities. his grip wraps around your waist, forcing you to unhook from robby's neck and roll completely into his front.

using the space, robby takes a quick hand to his cock. his eyebrows pinch and his chest jumps, abbot using your pussy to out milking the last of his cum out just as robby finishes again with a grunt.

he presses his head at where you and abbot meet, spurting out impressive ropes of thick cum. robby continues to smear his load, abbot adding to the action by using his finger to rub what robby doesn't catch into your swollen clit.

when you try and squirm, jack's hand moves up to rest against your throat. he pulls you back even further this time, pressing as far as he can into the couch and keeps you still with a gentle grip around your throat. robby watches the scene with heavy silence and dark eyes.

"now, where do you think you're going?"

jack's question hits low and hot against your ear.

"if he gets two... so do i, doll."

© 𝐬𝐮𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐡𝐨𝐞𝐯𝐚