The first time it happened, Pope didn't really know what to do.
You'd been sitting there beside him on the couch in his apartment, watching the NatGeo documentary with him one minute, and then the next, your teeth were latched onto his shoulder, gentle cobbing movements clenching and unclenching your jaws around his skin like a cat.
Pope stared at you like you had three heads. You didn't seem to notice.
"What the fuck are you doing?" Pope's voice was devoid of inflection as it usually was, but you knew him well enough to tell that he wasn't mad. His brow was furrowed, head tilted and eyes wide and sparkly in that confused puppy dog way he had about him that he always vehemently denied.
"Biting you," you supplied unhelpfully, voice muffled around the skin of his shoulder.
Pope stared. "It's more of a gnawing motion," he said. You hummed affirmatively, attention going back to the documentary.
Pope's eyes returned to the screen, but he wasn't paying attention anymore. He'd had few hookups that didn't involve the exchange of cash and even fewer long-term relationships, none of which had involved the age gap that the two of you had. To say he lacked the experience to understand this behavior was an understatement.
Was this just a thing people did? Was this your way of taking out some secret aggression or resentment toward him? Your body language seemed normal otherwise.
"Is it normal for your partner to bite you?"
Craig looked at Pope the same way he'd looked at you when you first bit him. "What?"
Renn, however, looked endeared, her eyes softened in a way they never had when Pope was anywhere in the vicinity. "More than you'd think, actually. They have to be really comfortable around you to do that shit, though. Didn't know you had that kind of game, Pope."
Craig levelled an unimpressed look at her, glancing back and forth between Renn and Pope like he was trying to figure out if he was being pranked. "How come no girl's ever taken a bite out of me then?"
Renn rolled her eyes. "Cause you've rarely talked to the same girl twice, and you go days without showering."
"Hey!"
Pope tuned out the rest of their bickering, mind stuck on Renn's words. He knew, logically, that you felt comfortable with him. You ate with him, slept near him, and didn't mind having your back turned to him when you did things, all signs that you trusted him not to do anything to you when your guard was down. Of course, there were the more intimate things as well, kissing him, coming to him when you've had a bad day, eating food that he prepared for you, giving him the key to your place, letting him take care of you when you were sick and vice versa.
But it made the tips of his ears warm to think that you'd reached some new level of comfort and intimacy that even one of his brothers hadn't heard of before.
The next time you and Pope hung out was at your house. It was craft night, something that Pope would never dare breathe a word about to anyone but you, not because he was embarrassed but because it was sacred. If he told one of his brothers about craft night and they said anything short of reverent on the subject, he would simply be forced to start breaking bones.
Pope was halfway through a massive Lego set that he kept safe at your apartment, and you were crocheting a pair of couple's scarves. It was the end of the night when you both were in bed and doing your post-craft debrief.
You were talking about a particular stitch that was giving you trouble when you suddenly felt a foreign sensation on your arm. You looked down absent-mindedly, words stuttering to a halt as you did a double take.
Your boyfriend was biting your arm.
It was quite possibly the gentlest bite in history, his teeth barely grazing you. You stared at him with wide eyes, but he honestly didn't seem to be paying you any attention. He kept moving his head this way and that, chomping down at various velocities like he was testing things. "Um, Andy…Are you biting me?"
"Yes."
"Why?"
"Because we're comfortable with each other," he mumbled distractedly. He was getting more into it, grinding his teeth soothingly against the skin of your shoulder. Every once in a while, you felt the heat of his tongue laving across the area, tasting you with no sexual intent, though you had to try very hard to reel in the heat that pooled between your legs at the action.
"Keep going," he eventually said. "You were talking about the stitching for the scarves."
Congratulations, you've become Andrew Cody's new oral fidget toy.
It gets out of control fairly quickly. Biting quickly becomes a sixth love language in your relationship, and it's not uncommon for you or Andrew to show up places with bite marks or very strange-looking hickeys. His brothers are extremely weirded out. They've never seen or heard of this behavior before, though they think it's quite on brand. Only Pope could manage to find a significant other who was almost as weird as he was.
A/N: This was absolute dog shit, but I can't sleep and can't get Pope Cody out of my head, so I figured I may as well crank out something quick and test out the new laptop. I usually don't like writing drabbles, they're too short for me and don't fit my writing style, but I think I'll keep writing them just to get back into the swing of things if nothing else.
Jack Abbot who feels like his heart is being ripped out of his chest when Reader brings her son into the ED with a broken arm
Reader’s son who has fallen hard off his skateboard on a tall ramp at the skate park and has landed on his arm all wrong shattering the bone
The boy is crying in severe pain and through it all has one demand he wants “his dad”
Jack Abbot who was placed as an acceptable emergency contact on his seven year old stepson’s information both in school and on his medical records in general
Jack Abbot who has been in the picture since his stepson was five years old.
Jack Abbot who dove right into dating single mom Reader not letting the fact that she has a five year old son with a dramatic and messy baby dad situation stop him from pursuing her
Reader who never anticipated the handsome emergency physician next door would ever take an interest in her
Jack Abbot who fell into an easy friendship with his pretty neighbor and her son that so effortlessly grew into something so much deeper
Jack Abbot who found his place in the life Reader has already formed around her son.
Jack Abbot who feels sick to his stomach at the sight of his “son” in a hospital gurney too pale and so exhausted from crying that he’s barely able to breathe
Jack Abbot who wants to forget conflict of interest and treat his stepson himself
Jack who has to be harshly reminded by Dr. Ellis that he’s not thinking clearly enough to provide medical treatment
Jack who is told to take off the doctor persona and be his stepson’s dad right now
Jack who runs a hand through the kid’s sweat damp hair saying anything and everything he can think of to soothe him. Mostly “Dad’s here, I’m right here. It’s going to be okay. Mom and I are here.”
Jack who has to soothe his terrified stepson as his poor arm is examined and who feels bile rise in his throat as ortho is called to consult
Jack who is relieved it’s dr. Garcia and not park the shark. He’s sure he can’t deal with the shark and his damn intense and cold beside attitude when it comes to Abbot’s kid.
Reader who is terrified when she hears the words “surgery to place pins”
Jack who is just as panicked. All medical knowledge leaves his head. All he can think is his “baby is hurt and scared” and needs surgery
Jack who has to put on a brave face and reassure the woman he loves and her child that it’ll all be okay
Jack who has to explain to his stepson that he’s just going to be given medicine to make him take a nap and that when he wakes up he will have a cast on his arm.
Jack who feels his heart breaking when he has to explain he can’t go with his stepson into the operating room even if the kid begs that he wants dad there so he won’t feel afraid.
Jack who has to pretend that he’s not sick to his stomach at the thought of his kid going under the knife
Jack who doesn’t even feel better at Garcia’s reassurance that she’s got this under control
Jack who won’t let go of Reader’s hand while they wait in the waiting area for the surgery to end.
Jack who reassures Reader that she did the right thing getting her son to the ED
Jack who practically knocks over the waiting room chair standing so quickly when Garcia comes out to explain the surgery was a success
Jack who parks himself in the little hospital room by Reader’s side not wanting to leave his stepson’s bedside
Reader and Jack who sleep on a lumpy little fold out cot in the pediatric hospital room
Jack who goes above and beyond helping the kid sip 7/up and broth post surgery
Jack who buys a huge stuffed animal in the gift shop downstairs for the kid
Jack who forces anyone and everyone he works with to sign the kid’s cast.
Jack who orders a pizza when the kid can finally tolerate real food
Jack who takes pto to stay at home with his stepson while the kid recovers
Jack Abbot who hides just how terrified he was and instead insists to his stepson that the kid was so brave and he’s so proud of him for being so grown up even if it was scary
Jack Abbot who loves that his stepson calls him “Dad” but he hopes that the kid never has to ask for his dad again because of any broken bones or emergency room visits
Jack much prefers being the doctor and not the panicked parent of the patient
But he realizes that’s the price of loving someone. It’s a price he’s willing to pay.
LIKEEE yes he will stalk you, yes it makes u giggle type shii
take this wherever you want
Ah yes my favorite type of reader<3 I also made her lowkey toxic and obsessive but it's okay she's just really loves him guys—
TW: skulls/bones including human (kinda dead dove? Andy gives her a human skull don't ask where it's from), cutting popes hair in his sleep, blood!! (Not specified about how it's drawn but it's inside of a container thingy), I know the tags sound a bit more intense compared to my usual posts but I swear it's cute guys 😞
⏔⏔⏔ ꒰ ᧔ෆ᧓ ꒱ ⏔⏔⏔
Mutually creepy reader! Who spent those 3 years patiently waiting for Andy to come home to her :( except that's a lie she wasn't fucking patient at all. She visited him ever chance she could which was usually 3-5 times a week. Always tracing little things like bunny ears on his head through the glass window as you listened to his voice through the dusty phone nailed to the wall. He never once mentioned the type of treatment he received in fear of a guard hearing him, but he always told you how grateful he was for your visits in hopes you never stop coming to save him for the measly 15 minutes that they'll allow you.
Mutually creepy reader! Who sends the sweetest letters to him in prison <3 pages beyond pages littered with hearts and kisses of that beautiful lipstick you always wore. The words usually consisting of how lonely your bed feels without him and how you've been sleeping surrounded by the clothes he left behind. Or how you've made a cardboard cutout of him that resides in your living room to scare off potential break ins. (At least that's what your excuse was but you genuinely just missed him so much!!) You even printed out tiny wallet sized photos of him that find home in ever pocket of your clothing. I mean c'mon guys it's not that creepy she just misses her man and she feels safer with him around even if he's on a flimsy piece of paper—
Mutually creepy reader! Who's absolutely jumping with joy the second he comes home. Peppering him in kisses and immediately biting at his neck to mark what's yours.
Mutually creepy reader! Who never really bothered interacting with Smurf, and to everyone's surprise Smurf didn't really try talking to you either in fear of Andrew doing something if she got too close. It was one of the very very few times that Smurf genuinely believed Andrew would go beyond murder to protect a girl that wasn't his mom. But! You still kinda took advantage of her super big house and before Andy went to prison you would help whip up dinner, just a few casual conversations between you and his mom to stay on her good side (mostly for her money and big ass pool, you still hated her for what she did to Andrew though)
Mutually creepy Andrew! Who's sooo sooo so happy to see you when he gets out of Folsom too :( he's a little scared to touch you at first but you help him ease up by holding just his pinkie instead of his whole hand. But after a day or too he's back in full swing— laying on top of you for a hefty nap after staying up for 2 days straight, openly groping your ass and not caring who sees, and most importantly lots and lots of kisses which usually set on the soft hair above your ear. Speaking of hair you cut off one of his curls and glued it to a drawing you made of him. (One of those silly stick figure drawings of you and him holding hands and the hair glued to his head). It hangs on your fridge :)
Mutually creepy Andrew! Who's trying his best for you. Trying his best to hold himself together after so much trauma the last 3 years without you. He starts trying to keep himself busy by building/crafting a bunch of shit. First of which was a necklace he saw a video about. A necklace holding a very tiney tiny vile of his blood, the chain of it holding the blood close to your heart right where it belongs.
Mutually creepy Andrew! Who knows how much you love collecting bones, bugs, minerals and all kinds of stuff to put on your shelves. He even learns how to do taxidermy to give you a little stuffed mouse to put bows on and stuff<3 but his favorite was probably cleaning up bones for you. Bleaching them and taking off all the nasty stuff to make sure it wouldn't stink up your apartment.
Mutually creepy Andrew! Who comes home with a big box with a bow on it, inside there was a very definite human skull. Not those silly plastic ones but a heavy and very much real one. And before you could pester him with an interrogation hes sucking on your neck and guiding you back to the bedroom.
Mutually creepy reader & Andrew who not only love the off putting demeanor or their home but they love how it keeps his family away. His brothers never come to pester him because they get so freaked out and he loves it so much :(
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A/N: this has been sitting in my drafts for over a month 😓
summary: you and titus grew up together, he's never been more than your best friend's annoying brother...but all that changes one night
content/warnings: dirty talk, unprotected sex, pet names, death, murder, human sacrifice, no age gap, mean titus, no use of y/n NSFW + MDNI! 18+ ONLY!
wc: 2.5k
notes: I love age gaps but I've been thinking of cocky, baby Titus for a minute. I also have a med school Jack Abbot piece I'm drafting, so idk what this says about me rn...this is short and hasn't been proofed
You have known Titus Danforth your entire life. Not by choice, of course. Your family was a part of The Council, just like the Danforths. So you spent most of your childhood ushered into rooms as rituals happened unbeknownst to you or the Danforth twins.
You and Ursula immediately became best friends as toddlers. But Titus...well...Titus was huffy. He didn't like sharing his toys or his sister. And you didn't want to play with boys away.
You spent every winter and summer break at the Danforth Lodge. It was the perfect place for kids to play, explore and flex their imagination.
Titus was just an annoyance for most of your life. Tailing around sulking after you and Ursula. But it was helpful to have a boy sometimes. Especially when you needed someone to play the baby when you were playing families. He was also a great bodyguard at teenage parties.
But Titus was just...there...Until your eighteenth year. You hadn't seen the Danforth twins since last summer, and now you were here for your initiation ritual. Your first hunt. To see if you had what it took to truly join The Council now that you were an adult.
You and the Danforth twins had turned eighteen that year, so you were all three taking part in the hunt. Years ago, The Council would have a hunt every time a member of the family turned eighteen. But it was risky to have people going missing multiple times a year. So now it was just one big hunt to mark the children entering adulthood.
You and Ursula are gossiping, admiring each other's hunting outfits. You've been training for the past 12 months for this. However, Ursula and Titus have been training their entire lives for this. Your eyes flick up when the door opens, and you see Titus enter. He's grown into his frame, and he gives you a cocky smirk.
You can feel your cheeks flush, but you ignore him immediately.
When the sound of the hunting horn goes off, the three of you scatter. You know Titus and Ursula will help each other; you're not stupid. But you don't do badly, yourself. You return to the house as the sun begins to rise, content with how you did. You captured your prey and brought them to the ritual space. Let The Council sacrifice them.
Your eyes flick up when the door opens, and there stands Titus Danforth, blood covering his face and splashing down his neck. His black shirt is unbuttoned at the top now. And you can see the light reflecting off his silver chain. You can feel a heat form between your legs for the first time when you look at Titus. The boy who pushed you off a swing when you were seven and pulled your pigtails all summer when you were nine.
He can see the blush on your face. And he just gives you his new cocky smirk. He was never cocky before. He was unsure of himself. Clearly, him coming into his looks has done wonders for his self-esteem. He throws a wink your way before leaving.
Titus Danforth is under your skin. And you can't act on it. You refuse to give him the satisfaction that summer of flirting with him. But you try to wear your sexiest bikinis around him when you spend time at the lake. You ask him to put SPF on your back in places you can't reach. This all backfires for you because his touch sends sparks right to your core. And Titus is unmoved by your skimpy swimwear or the touch of your soft skin.
Anyway, Titus always seems to have a new girl hanging off him at beach parties, at bonfires, at anything. You walk into the library one rainy afternoon to get a new book and find Titus pressing some pretty redhead up against the shelves. Your eyes go wide, and you can't help the gasp that falls from your lips. The noise stops Titus and the pretty girl he is tangled around. He pulls back, seeing you and gives you his now signature cocky smirk.
You scurried off and decided that you simply would not be putting up with this crush anymore. You head off to college and forget about Titus Danforth. Until you see him for Winter Break. He's even more handsome than you remember him in summer. How can knitwear be so erotic?
One evening, you're curled up by the fire in the library reading a book by candlelight when Titus walks in. His face is illuminated by the flames in the room and he looks like sin personified. When he walks towards you, your heart starts racing. And when he leans over you, you think you're about to pass out. His silver chain dangles in front of your face. You stretch up, parting your lips, but his lips don't brush yours. No, he leans past you to grab his cigar box.
You can't hide the embarrassed blush that colours your face and Titus can't hide the self-assured smirk that pulls on his lips. He knows what you thought was going to happen. He gives you a once-over and then leaves the room. You're ashamed, and you can't face the Danforths again.
In fact, it was enough to have you applying to study abroad programmes. So you had an excuse not to come to parties or hunts or anything where you would run into Titus Danforth.
When you finish your undergrad and your post-grad, you have no choice but to return home. The Council is uneasy that you haven't joined them in almost five years. And your parents make you aware of this. You are the heir. You have to be seen to be an active participant.
But you're older, you're wiser. Titus Danforth won't have any effect on you. You promise yourself. And Ursula has been begging you to stay the summer with them.
So you arrive for the Summer Solstice ritual with your bags and Ursula races over to meet you. She wraps her arms around you.
"I missed you so much. I can't believe you just disappeared off the face of the earth for five years!" she cries.
"But I'm here now. For the whole summer," you remind her.
When you enter the den where people are mingling before you enter the sacred space. You can feel eyes on you. You turn to find Titus watching you. He's dressed head to toe in black, that stupid silver chain reflecting the light and he's nursing a whiskey.
"He's in a bad mood," Ursula tells you when she notices where your gaze has gone. "His latest girlfriend dumped him! He's never been dumped before."
You smirk and nod your head. Well, he deserves to be knocked down a peg or two. You head down to the sacred space where the sacrifice has already been prepared. The Danforth twins' father is doing the sacrifice as always. It's been a while since you've seen one. You put on your cloak and mask and take your spot on Titus' left hand side. Ursula is on his right. You have known your spots since you were children, preparing for this unknowingly for years.
You stand and watch the proceedings. But when the seemingly drugged man lunges up from the stone altar, you jump, your hand reaching out to grab Titus'. Your hand grips onto his rough one. You both look at each other, eyes wide before dropping your touch before you can think too much about it.
You manage to avoid him for the rest of the night. You were embarrassing. You were a member of The Council, you shouldn't be jumping at a sacrifice.
"Thought I'd find you in here," you hear.
You turn and see Titus standing in the doorway of the library where you had hidden yourself from the festivities.
"Always bumping into you in here," he says as prowls towards you.
You don't know why but you find yourself stepping back until your back is pressed against the bookcases. Titus is standing in front of you now. You can see all his freckles on his still boyish face.
"What do you want?" you ask him, trying to hide the shake in your voice.
He smirks and shakes his head, "Nothing, little lamb. Just needed a book."
He reaches up above you, pressing himself closer to you. His lips ghost over your cheek as he does so. Teasing you, watching you with a self-satisfied smirk as your chest rises and falls in excitement.
"Good night," he tells you as he leaves you unable to move.
But two of you can play these games. And while your tiny bikinis didn't move him when you were teenagers. You have filled out with soft curves and you notice how Titus tilts his sunglasses down when he sees you walk down the pier at the lake in a bikini that leaves little to the imagination.
You play this cat and mouse game for weeks. Tiny bikinis, short skirts, Titus brushes against you in the hallways, fixing strands of hair. But neither of you is going to break first.
That is, until Ursula throws a party with her friends from business school. Titus hates these pomped up assholes. They think they have power and they're completely clueless about real power. He's holding a beer when he sees you and your stupid minidress dancing with one of those assholes. His eyes watch as the other man's hands drag up and down your sides until they find a home on the swell of your ass. If Titus had less self-restraint, he would have ripped this guy's head off.
But he's been working on his self-restraint. He really has. That's why he waits until the next day to hunt you down. It's not hard to find you. When Ursula isn't around, you're usually holed up reading in the library or reading on the pier at the lake. But with the party last night, he knows you'll be inside.
He watches you from the doorway as you read, curled up on the couch. You're only wearing an oversized t-shirt. Is that his? He puffs his chest out when he realises it is. He's always wanted you. But you've just seen him as a nuisance. And when you suddenly realised that he wasn't just your best friend's annoying brother, he wasn't going to give you that satisfaction.
No he was going to make you work for it. Unfortunately, you disappeared for five years. And now he was desperate.
When he pushes into the room, you sigh and put your book down.
"I'm not playing games with you, Ti," you snap, standing up.
He smirks and shakes his head, crowding you once again back to the bookshelves.
"Did you have fun last night?" he asks you, brushing your hair out of your face.
"Fuck off. You come to rub in my face you had a threesome or some shit?" you hit out.
"Oh is my little lamb jealous?" he asks. "I like your shirt, by the way."
His fingers pluck at the fabric and you go red when you realise it's his.
"That asshole didn't satisfy you? Or else you'd be wearing his clothes."
"Oh piss off, Titus!" you snarl, pushing at his chest.
He catches your wrists and stops you.
"The thing is, no one is ever gonna satisfy you. Cos you're made for me."
His tone makes you shiver and squeeze your legs together. Your eyes flick up to him and you gasp when you see they're practically black.
"You jealous, Ti?" you breathe.
You're the only person who calls him anything other than Titus. And he loves it.
He lets go of your hands so he can slide his hands down to your thighs and he hoists you up. You wrap your legs around his waist. You can feel how hard he already is.
"All that for me?" you coo, a bit cruelly now.
He buries his face in your neck, kissing at it. You gasp out when you feel him bit down, hard enough that you're sure he draws blood.
"You belong to me," he hisses then as pulls away to look at you. He grabs your hair and pulls your face to his.
You had imagined your first kiss with Titus Danforth for a while now. You never expected it to be sweet, no that wasn't his style. But you didn't expect it to be so violent. Your teeth are crash against each other, you can taste blood from the pulling at lips. And it all feels so fucking good.
You're pulling at his t-shirt, wanting to feel him. Feel him inside you now. He's grunting at how you roll your hips.
"Get yourself off on me, little lamb. Make that slutty pussy cum and then I'll fuck you," he demands as he pulls your shirt off.
He grunts when he sees you're not wearing a bra under the t-shirt. He ducks his need to suckle at your nipple as you do as he says. You're bucking you hips wildly against his belt buckle. Your nails dig into his freckled shoulders and you cum with a cry.
It's enough to have Titus popping off your tit and ripping your panties off you.
"So fuckin' wet for me, little lamb," he grunts as he undoes his jeans.
He's inside you within seconds, slamming into your weeping cunt, making books fall off the shelves. Your cries of pleasure fill his ears and spur him on more.
"Fuck!" he hisses. He can't get deep enough like this.
Without pulling out he all but slams the two of you onto the carpeted floor. He brings your knees up to your chest as he fucks you like a man possessed. And truly, you're not sure he's not.
His silver chain dangles in your face as he thrusts into you with an uneven rhythm.
He's chasing his high now. Desperate to cum in you. Fill you with his seed. He kisses sloppily down your neck and to your tits. He covers your skin with bites and hickies.
He dips his rough hand between you as he slams into you so hard you know he'll leave bruises. His fingers tease your clit and you're cumming crying out his name. He follows you over the edge, hips rolling in aborted thrusts as ropes of cum coat your walls.
Sex with Titus is addicting. You spend the rest of the summer sneaking off to fuck. When summer comes to an end, a part of you thinks that this is it. A summer fling.
But Titus asks you to stay. Drops down on one knee with a dramatic ruby ring. His mother's.
No one knows that you've spent every night in his bed for the summer. So when you meet for the Winter Solsitice and take your place on Titus' right side, Ursula pauses.
"Honey, wrong side," she tells you with a smile.
You shake your head and look at Titus, before moving your left hand to show the ruby ring on your finger.
warnings:fluff, female!reader, reader likes sterotypical women things.
Robby loves all the girly things about you.
Like how on a Sunday evening you’ll be sitting on the living room floor in front of the coffee table, digging through the bucket you keep all your nail polish in.
“Which one?” You ask, thrusting two small bottles at him.
He makes deliberate work of folding the newspaper (you love to joke that he’s single-handedly keeping the newspaper company in business), setting it next to him on the couch, and reaching for the bottles. He peers over his glasses, studying them intently.
“All be honest, Doll, I’m not really seeing a difference,” he says, just because he knows it drives you nuts.
You click your tongue with an eye roll. “There’s an obvious difference, Michael. Maybe you should get your prescription upped.”
You stretch to your knees to grab the polish back, but Robby lifts his arm out of your reach.
“Not so fast. I am choosing.”
Finally, after studying for several moments, he’ll hand you one of the bottles. “This one.”
Then he’ll watch you as you work, eyes tracking you as you skillfully drag the brush up and down each individual nail.
He loves joining you on shopping excursions, trailing you from store to store, up and down aisle after aisle. Hangers pile up on his finger, but not once will he complain. Encourages it even. You’ll spin toward him, holding up two of the same shirt. “Green or purple?”
“Why not both?” He’ll say.
And so on to the pile they’ll go.
Later, he’ll sit patiently outside the dressing room, giving his opinion on each piece you’d showcase.
And then when it came time to pay, he’d pull out his credit card without a word, swiping it before you could protest.
Robby loved the way you hated bugs with every piece of your being. Adored when you’d yell his name from across the house and he’d come running only to find you on top of the counters or in the far corner of the shower, cowering from a tiny insect. He couldn’t help laughing when you’re like that.
“Don’t fucking laugh at me!”
Robby’d kill the poor thing, grin still on his face. If he were in a particularly silly mood, he’d pick up the squashed spider or beetle between two fingers and bring it closer to your face, just to make you squeal.
Then, bug discarded, he’d lean in for a kiss, but you’d lean away.
“I’m never kissing you again,” you’d tell him petulantly.
“You don’t mean that.”
“No, I don’t,” you’d agree, appeasing him with a peck on his waiting lips.
Robby loved your collection of perfume. You had several bottles that lined the top of the dresser. All sorts of different sizes and shapes. Each season had a different scent: pumpkin spice for fall, peppermint for the winter, floral in the spring, fruity in the summer. You had special ones too, like the one you’d worn on the first date, or the day that Robby told you he loved you. You never wore them again, but every so often, Robby’d catch you with them pressed to your nose, savoring the memories.
He loved to be in your space, nose buried in your neck. On the occasion that you worked on a day he was off, he’d shift closer to your side of the bed in the mornings, pressing his face into your pillow, drowning himself in your scent.
When you’d mix smells, Robby found joy in trying to guess which two you’d picked.
And when one would get low, he'd make sure another bottle would be on the doorstep the very next morning.
And finally, Robby loved watching rom-coms with you. Loved the way your eyes got shiny with tears during the confessions. Adored that when you’d seen a particular movie enough times, you’d mouth along to the lines.
Once a week, the two would pile onto the couch, getting comfy underneath a shared blanket. His arm thrown around your shoulder, your hand toying with his hand in his lap.
You’d take turns picking a movie, and when it was your turn to choose, Robby could just about count on it being some cheesy love story. But he’d never complain.
Jack, on the other hand…
On the nights he didn’t work, he’d join, mostly to save himself from being lonely at home. “Oh man, another one?” He’d complain, plopping himself down in a chair, bowl of popcorn in his hand.
“Why are you here again?” You’d tease.
“Hey, man. Behave,” Robby would warn him, good-heartedly. “What the lady wants, she gets. I like her more than you.”
“Only because she’s prettier.”
Halfway through the movie, Robby’d start to get distracted, peppering kisses on your neck, making you giggle. Jack’d roll her eyes, easing himself to a stand.
“Alright, I’m leaving before you two start screwing right in front of me. You kids, have fun.”
Now alone, it wouldn’t be long before the movie was forgotten entirely.
"You're not jealous are you?" Robby teases. Seeing the look on her face after his hug with Noelle Hastings.
"Jealous of what? Your midlife crisis?" she scoffs.
"Jealous that it's not you," he murmurs by her ear, coming around to stand next to her by the nurses station.
"Everyone knows you come to me in between girlfriends, so, it's par for the course. Just not my time yet," she says. Making a very hurtful joke about herself feels like she just shot herself in the foot.
"Oh cmon, what are you talking about?" Robby chuckles. "Nobody knows that."
"So you admit it?" she glares at him. An awkward silence falls between them.
"Everybody knows that, Robby, except you," she says, turned to face him.
She puts down the iPad she was charting on. Walking to her next patient, Robby follows behind her pulling her back by her arm and into a hallway.
"Hey, wait, are we ok?" he asks, confused.
"We're always ok Robby until you decide it's time for your shiny new girlfriend," she yanks her arm back from him.
"Ok, so you are jealous," he scoffs, disgusted look on his face.
"Oh my God!" she hissed, her hands coming up to cover her face, "would you forget about the jealousy?" she motions to him.
"You're a terrible boyfri-" she stops herself, realizing she can't even insult him with that because they've never been anything serious.
She huffs at the futility of the situation and walks away without another word.
summary: you convince jack to do a trend for your tiktok. his innocent answer definitely doesn't match the question you told the camera.
tags: jack abbot x reader, implied?rabbot x reader, teasing
notes: this was based off that one specific tiktok where the girl asked her boss what he'd do if four hot firefighters came in at once and it cuts to him saying he'd take all four at the same time.....I needed to do this but with them. MY TAG LIST IS CLOSED BUT MY REQUESTS ARE OPEN, enjoy!
word count: 749
Your phone settled against your water bottle as you slowly backed up to show your full body and Jack behind you. Your lips twitched sporadically as you tried not to smile, knowing what was about to happen the moment you started talking. Jack waved unknowingly before crossing his arms in front of his chest; he was aware that your followers loved to go crazy over his biceps. But the more comments you got, the more people followed you, screw him for wanting to keep you happy and hear that excited squeal each time you reached a new goal.
"All right, everyone," you greeted after stopping at Jack's side. Your head tilted slightly. "We are back with another late-night video! I thought I'd hop on a fun little trend."
Jack seemed to stay calm. You'd already asked him the question earlier before a large trauma came in with you promising that the two of you would record an intro later on.
"So," you continued, "I asked my attending what he'd do if Dr. Robinavitch and I suddenly pulled up to his house on his day off and jumped in his bed."
For a split second, Jack just stood there while your words rang in his ears. But the moment he registered what you said, his eyes grew tenfold, the hazel hues now glossy with panic, face flushing with a bright red, and his body jerked as he turned to face you, arms falling defensively to his sides.
"You did not!" he accused. "Shut up—Tell them!" His finger jutted out towards the camera, and he scoffed loudly. "Tell them the truth about what you said."
Jack took a step towards your phone, eyes never leaving your giggle-wracked body. He leaned in close to where his face took up the entire screen.
"She's a little liar," he loudly whispered as though he were talking to your viewers. "That's not what she fucking said."
· · ─ ·✶· ─ · ·
You couldn't help but giggle as you put the two clips together before pushing play. The little intro sent you into another fit, your ribs already straining under the way your shoulders lifted and fell with laughs pushing through your teeth.
The next clip had you roaring and almost falling off the break room couch and onto the floor.
Jack, this time, was in full frame, his hands busy with typing on the computer to get a chart in. He looked contemplative, his readers on the bridge of his nose.
"Both at once?" he repeated the fake question you'd given him. His hands lifted off of the keyboard. "I think I'd have to take you two one at a time. I'd probably start with you first and go slow." He smirked to himself. "This is a teaching moment after all; I'd want you to be comfortable if you had any problems taking it all in at first. Of course, I'd have stretched you first; ask all the questions I need to understand how you tick. And then if you needed me in other places, I'd probably come with you first before moving onto Robby."
His chest was fully turned toward your camera, and you did your best to keep a straight face, nodding every so often to keep him going.
"Now with Robby, we know each other very well, so there'd really be no fooling around, no fumbling; we know how to get straight to the point. But like you, I'd make sure to slow down to really understand what he's needing and where he wants me. But with Robby it's always punchy. I never know what's going to happen when we all go in. And it's always where he's below me, needing my expertise, or it's me coming with him since he's on top, ya' know?"
Jack nodded to himself, clearly pleased with his answer of the question: what would you do if Dr. Robby and I came to you at the same time with a question.
"Don't know how long it'd take though to get through you two, but I'd make sure you both were satisfied."
The video ended there, and another flutter of giggles crawled up your throat when you locked eyes with the two attendings. On the other side of the break room, both Jack and Robby looked a bit embarrassed after what they just listened too, but their faces held an expression of amusement.
Robby turned his face towards Jack with a shit-eating grin stretching his lips wide. "So . . . you'd make sure we were both satisfied?"
Jack dragged a hand down his face. "Brother, I swear, that's not what she asked me first."
"Oh, please," you tutted. "Tell me that the next time you bring up Robby's name in bed."
The video ended up with over 4 million likes in the span of 24 hours and Jack sandwiched between you and Robby during their next day off.
♡ synopsis: you & robby agreed to a friends with benefits arrangement that included no strings attached, long-term plans, or an ounce of commitment from either of you. when the two month mark begins to near, robby brings things to an end with no argument from you. your lack of reaction & moving on immediately, however, causes an unfettered feeling of jealousy to rear its ugly head when he begins to want you back & all to himself.
♡ content: song fic, age-gap, jealous!robby, pining!jack, park is circling reader too, jesse flirts, unprotected p in v sex, creampie, spanking (sorta), reverse cowgirl, lotus flower position, dirty talk, robby has a praise & mommy kink
Settling your palm over the handle to the storm door, Robby speaks. "Before you go—"
You turn on your heel, and a pleasant ache radiates between your thighs which're taut with muscles you overexerted tonight from riding his ample, sweaty waist in bed. "Hm?" you respond with a quiet hum.
He scratches nervously at the back of his head. Dropping his gaze to mopped hardwood floors, Robby quickly crosses his arms. "We're nearing a couple months now with our arrangement."
"We are," you concur, curious as to the direction he's headed in.
Trailing your eyes along the generous swell of his stretch mark-laden belly—which you painted a slick trail along just a couple of hours ago with your fluttering cunt—you lick your lips at the sight and consider the prospect of sacrificing a few extra hours of sleep in exchange for another mind-bending orgasm.
Then again, Robby's been wanting to take things a bit slower the last few times you've been in bed together. A fact which is beginning to make you feel the least bit antsy for the favor of being fucked deep and hard into the mattress like he used to only a month ago.
Maybe it's too much on his back.
"And we agreed nothing long-term," he states.
Lifting your head, his brown eyes flit between yours.
"We did," you respond in agreement. Not that two months is really that to you, but you suppose everyone has their own metric by which they measure time by.
"Maybe tonight we, uh..." he sighs and scrubs a hand down his face; over the coarse brown and silver trimmings of his beard. "We quit while we're ahead."
You deflate. So much for another orgasm...
You're pretty sure you have fresh batteries in the junk drawer at home, though. A vibrator and Twitter porn will have to do just as well for tonight, you suppose.
"Alright!" you chirp with a gentle smile. "See you at work tomorrow, Robby."
Turning back to the door, you press the handle down with a swift click, leaving him standing alone at the threshold.
Watching as you toss your things into the passenger seat of your vehicle before climbing into the driver's side and peeling out of his driveway—some unfamiliar pop tune blaring from your radio as you rumble away—Robby finds himself at a loss for words.
When he pushes the front door closed, an unsatisfied feeling settles deep into his chest at just how well you took things. "Alright!"
That's it? That's all he gets?
No "Oh, are you sure?" Or "Did I do something wrong?" Not even a single tear shimmered in your fiery eyes in disappointment. Nope, just "Alright!"
Quietly grumbling to himself in discontentment, Robby pads back to the bedroom and slams the door shut before wrenching soiled sheets from the bed with a curse.
Where Robby would typically keep you close to his side like you're glued to it, he's instead kept you at arm's-length all day. Including when you were treating a case of anaphylactic shock together somewhere in the afternoon, during which he hardly glanced twice in your direction. It wasn't for a lack of wanting to, though—like a damn itch he needs to scratch—but Robby knows that if he does, it'll only lead to an open wound he won't have the first clue as to how to get closed again.
So as a distraction, he buries himself in work—as per his usual unhealthily avoidant coping mechanism—while the hours flit by and the sun begins to wane outside before finally dipping behind towering buildings, much like the hand of a clock, signaling that it's time to head home.
Your mouth waters at the scent of something meaty and delicious. "C'mon, Abbot," you whine. Hefting your backpack onto your shoulders, you turn to face him. "At least take it into the employee lounge so I'm not subjected to it."
Lips lined with silver stubble curve into a grin. "Maybe psychological torture was the point, kiddo."
Rolling your eyes sarcastically, you press your locker shut and study the logo on the side of the bag he's about to set inside his own. "Really? Applebee's? You know it's one of my favorites."
Swinging his head in your direction, he reaches into the oversized brown paper bag and produces a tempting container of Bavarian-style soft pretzels.
You take a step forward—your eyes now the size of saucers—and half think to reach greedily for it while chanting the mantra of gimme, gimme, gimme, but refrain.
Extending it toward you, Jack presses the to-go box to your chest. "Go on."
You keep your hands at your sides and swallow down pooling saliva. "No, I can't take your—"
"Got 'em for you," he explains. "Those," he grunts before diving deeper. "And this."
When a cheeseburger appears, you smile and squeal excitedly. "You're sure?"
He chuckles. "I am. Got myself a steak and a side of green beans. Figured you'd be starving by the time I got here."
Gently taking both containers, you clutch them to your chest with a grateful smile. "Thank you, Jack. You really didn't need to..." You throw a look over your shoulder—to your backpack which your wallet lies inside a zipped compartment of. "How much do I owe you?"
He blows a raspberry. "You know better than that. Just eat and enjoy."
Bounding onto your tiptoes, you press a quick kiss to his cheek before turning to head out. Sooner you get home, the sooner you can dig in.
Only once you're well out of sight does Robby round the corner of the wall he was previously hiding behind. "Dinner, huh?"
Closing his go bag securely away, Jack turns to Robby. "Just something quick and easy for her. It's only food, Mike."
Tucking his hands away into the soft pockets of his hoody, Robby shrugs. "No, it's fine. We're, uh..." he huffs a humorless laugh. "It's done. As of last night. Called things quits."
Jack raises a brow of surprise. Though, he can't really say he's shocked. He's been counting down the days, and this one came right on time.
He doesn't need to ask whose decision it was.
"She seemed okay to me. Didn't take it too hard, then?" he questions, folding his arms behind him—the paper bag knocking against his calves when he does so.
Robby nods with raised brows. "Yeah. No, she's been good today. Hasn't brought it up at all."
Somewhat to his chagrin...
Jack purses his lips and nods. "Good to hear."
And even better to know.
Slapping a hand over Robby's shoulder, Jack heads in the direction of the employee lounge so he can get to work on downing his own dinner before nightshift starts. "See you in the morning."
"Yeah," is Robby's simple one-word reply.
He frowns at the seemingly renewed pep in Abbot's step that's been missing since Robby took you into his bed.
He knew the vet was displeased when Robby made you his next person of interest—in terms of sexual partners—just two months ago, but he backed off and kept his distance out of respect, which the daytime attending appreciated. Now, however... It's dinner tonight and probably breakfast with a damn Tiffany necklace to accompany tomorrow.
Pinching the bridge of his nose in frustration, Robby considers venturing upstairs to see if Noelle is still around, but ultimately opts against it—refusing to acknowledge that it's because there's only one woman he wants coming home with him right now so he can get a straightforward physical release.
Whatever.
Time will do its thing like always, and he'll be onto the next one before long with you left far in the rearview.
Not that he's ever been much of a fan of the genre, but as Robby listens to the obnoxious sound of bombastic pop music drifting through your rolled-up car window, he grits his teeth.
Whatever happened to Heart, Pat Benatar, or Bonnie Tyler? Not this modern shit that sounds like a damn car accident. And first thing in the morning? Clearly no consideration for others and the prospect of giving them a damn splitting headache all before 7 o'clock. And of course you're singing along with a radiant smile.
Rolling his eyes toward the bruised purple sky, Robby groans a guttural growl of irritation before turning in the direction of the hospital on a booted heel.
"Morning, honey," Jack greets quietly, with a pleasant smile that causes his crow's feet to wrinkle charmingly around his eyes.
Gripping either end of your stethoscope, you turn to meet him. "Hey there."
When something crinkles behind him, your lips tilt into a smirk. "What might that be?"
He shrugs playfully. "Have no idea what you're talking about."
Leaning all your weight onto one foot, you attempt to glimpse whatever he's hiding by leaning heavily to the side, but your plans are foiled when he turns to shield it from your view.
"Oh, I definitely smell food again," you mumble before jumping in an attempt to round on him, but Jack's reflexes are faster when he presses his back to the lockers.
Throwing your head back in frustration, you moan and he chuckles in response. "You really want it?"
Dropping your chin, you bob your head. "Pleeease," you drawl while batting your lashes.
Jack removes one of his arms from behind his back and taps his cheek with an index finger, indicating the required payment. You sigh, but with a cheeky grin to accompany before you step forward and press a lingering kiss to weathered skin that smells sharply of minty aftershave.
A paper bag is then pressed to your belly which you don't waste a moment in tearing into.
"Breakfast burrito," Jack states as your hand wraps around the warm wrapper it's encased in.
Pulling it free, you get to work on peeling damp paper away from the provided meal. "Thank you," you say with quiet appreciation. "You really don't need to do things like this for me, though. I don't want you going out of your way, okay?"
He raises a shoulder. "I Doordashed something for myself a little bit ago. Thought why not, since I knew you were coming in."
Biting into scrambled egg and cheese, you chew thoughtfully for a moment. "This was sweet of you, Jack."
Reaching forward, he runs a calloused palm down your arm. "Don't mention it, kiddo." Clearing his throat, he slips his hands into the pockets of his cargo pants. "So, I heard that you and Ro—"
"Bring anything for your best friend?"
Jack clenches his jaw when Robby starts down the hall the two of you did have all to yourselves only a moment ago. "No. Sorry, brother. Tomorrow?"
Robby slides his arms around your shoulders, then tugs you back against his chest as you stare at Jack with wide eyes of confusion. "Gimme a bite, baby," Robby mutters.
"I got it for her," Jack deadpans displeasingly.
Robby snorts. "It's alright. We've shared way more than saliva."
Were Jack not already leaned against something solid, he'd be stumbling back in shocked response to his friend's distasteful candor. He's garnered quite the reputation around the hospital over the years, but has always remained anything but forthcoming when it comes to discussions of his female companions, even with him. So this is an unexpected change in character, to say the least.
Holding the burrito up above your shoulder while keeping your eyes on Jack with a regretful look painted across their irises, Robby dips his head and takes a hearty bite before leaning back and chewing. "'S good," he grunts before swallowing. "Thank you, sweetheart," he finishes with a peck atop your head. "Once you finish up, come find me. I want your help on this first case."
You nod. "Okay."
Robby's palm lingers against your hip momentarily before he reluctantly steps away, leaving you and Jack in each other's sole company again.
Stepping forward, Abbot crosses his arms defensively. "Did the two of you—"
You fervently shake your head before he can even finish that question. "No. Night before last he ended things. You're as taken aback as I am."
A frown tugs at his lips. "I thought it was just..." he swipes the heel of his palm awkwardly across his cheek. "Sex."
"It was," you confirm with a nod. "Just... Physical, carnal release." Your cheeks heat. "We both understood at the beginning and all the way through that it would never be anything more. I was happy with that arrangement."
"So you don't think he's having second thoughts? That that wasn't plain as day jealousy just now?"
You take another bite of your burrito, wanting to finish it before it gets cold. "I think he can have boundary issues... At times."
Jack bites back a laugh. "Oh, you think?"
You keep the story of him attempting to go through your locked phone one night when you accidentally fell asleep—instead of going straight home after the two of you got done fucking like you usually did—to yourself. Lucky for him, you'd been far too groggy and out of it to chew him out properly like you otherwise would've, had you been wide awake when it happened.
Or the night maybe a week and a half ago when he got all whiney when you demanded he either run out and pick up a box of condoms or have them delivered to the front door, otherwise you were going home.
He really tried his hand at making you out to be the one who was overreacting while you sat on the edge of the bed, repeatedly telling him go get them, go get them, go get them before he finally threw his hands up in a fit of curse words and stomped out of the bedroom and into the bathroom where—big surprise!—he just so happened to find a spare one in the medicine cabinet.
Whatever. It's in the past. The time for friends with benefits is over and you're onto other things. Or... Will be, anyway, when you have the time to figure something out.
Tinder is a rather unappetizing idea, but something about beggars and choosing...
You sigh. "I gotta get to work. But thank you for the food again. I really do appreciate it, Jack."
Cupping the back of your head, he presses an affectionate kiss to the bridge of your nose, earning him a bubbly giggle in response. "You're welcome, honey."
One night I was bored in bed
And stalked you on the internet
Stirring a crumbled granola bar into a cup of creamy yogurt, you swing your hips from side-to-side before licking the tip of the spoon clean.
It's feminine intuition
Park is just headed for the elevators when an attractive feminine form catches his attention from the corner of his eye. Turning back around, he plants himself in the threshold of the ED's employee lounge with crossed arms while an amused smirk crawls across thin lips.
'Cause I always had a vision of us standing like this
All pressed up in the bathroom line
Swallowing a bite of your stirred snack, you turn to the sink where a roll of paper towels rest, then promptly stumble back with a hand planted over your pounding heart when you see that you're being watched by a pair of unfamiliar eyes.
Yanking your headphones down to your neck, you set your food on the countertop and exhale a ragged breath. "God, you scared me."
A plucked brow merely twitches in response.
"Were you just... Standing there watching me?"
Leaning a muscular shoulder against the doorframe, Park trails his eyes from your tennis shoes that're adorned with floral blooms sprouting from the stitching to your pretty young face. "You always spend your breaks putting on performances like that?"
You blink dumbly. "I'm sorry, who are you?"
He snorts derisively, followed by extending a hand. "Dr. Brendon Park. Orthopedic surgeon," he states with emphasis.
"Uh huh," is your less than enthusiastic reply. "Y/N. Fourth year resident."
His grip is firm—bordering nearly on squeezing—but the contact is over just as soon as it began after one definitive shake is granted. "Might have to spend more time down here if the answer's yes."
Male chauvinist asshole.
You retrieve your yogurt again. "Nice to meet you."
Taking a step forward, you eye the narrowly allotted gap between him and the other side of the doorway, which isn't nearly enough room for you to squeeze through. When he turns, you eagerly step past—the crown of your shoulder brushing against his chest when you do so—before heading in the direction of the ambulance bay so you can finish eating in peace.
Brendon watches you go with eyes trained squarely on your ass.
If this were a cartoon, steam would be blowing from Robby's ears, but you'd never know it from the calm disposition he portrays when he greets the younger doctor. "Park."
He nods to your retreating form. "She single?"
An intrusive image of Brendon's head being shoved through one of the trauma bay's glass walls flits through Robby's mind unwelcomely. "Not sure," he lies. "Think she might've just gotten out of something, but I couldn't tell you a lot about it."
"Was it serious, do you know?" he inquires casually.
Robby grinds his teeth. "You know how the grapevine works—like playing a game of telephone, so take it with a grain of salt—but, yeah, I guess feelings were exchanged."
Even if they were apparently one-sided.
He hums in interest. "Don't always mind a chase. Seems like she might be worth one." Turning, he grants Robby a nod. "Thanks."
The senior attending keeps his mouth firmly shut, watching as Brendon finishes his walk to the elevators while thinking to himself that he has no idea what the hell he's asking for. A chase. He told himself the same damn thing only a couple months ago and look at the position it's put him in.
Once Park is out of sight, Robby goes after you—absolutely fucking fuming when he does.
"What was that about?" barks Robby, now advancing in your direction.
You only somewhat acknowledge him from the brick half-wall you're seated atop—otherwise occupied with mindlessly scrolling through social media while finishing your snack. "Huh?"
Crossing his arms in a humph, he levels you with a glare. "You could do with looking at me when I'm speaking to you."
Locking your mobile device, you lift your head and smile sweetly. "Sorry, Rob. What was what about?"
Somehow, the oblivious expression painted across your glowing features only serves to further light a fire under his ass. "The exchange between you and Park," he spits.
You shrug. "I was mixing up my yogurt. He was watching me."
He glowers from beneath heavy brows. "Watching you shake your ass for the whole of the ED to see, seemed to me."
Your sunny disposition is quickly overcast by a cover of dark, heavy clouds ready to break into a fit of lightening strikes if he keeps pressing the issue. "I didn't ask for an audience," you snip. "I was simply enjoying my music while taking a quick break."
He shakes his head, causing the chain of his gold necklace to glint against the overhead sun. "Well, going forward here at work you could try practicing a little self-respect. It'd go a long way."
Swinging your legs over the edge of the wall, you dig your nails into solid concrete. "Sounds to me like this is beginning to border on some sort of victim-blaming nonsense."
Robby chuckles incredulously. "Victim?" He leans forward onto the balls of his feet. "I'm sorry. Victim of what, exactly?"
"You, apparently," you scoff. "And whatever this conversation is turning into. Which, from your tone and the look on your face, seems to be an argument."
His hackles raise. "Is this you trying to get back at me because I cut things off?"
You choke back a laugh. "Excuse me?" you stare up at him with an open-mouthed smile, sure he can't be serious.
He sneers at your apparent inability to take the matter fucking serious. "Jack, then Park. Seems to me like you're making the rounds."
"First of all," you snap, causing Robby to take a small step back—he never did care for when you got a temper with him; typically preferring to fuck it out of you until you were a contentedly babbling mess coming around his cock with a smile. "I didn't even know who Park was until like two minutes ago when he introduced himself. And I can tell you with the utmost certainty—from that brief interaction alone—that he couldn't be any further from my type. Not that it's any of your business." Standing, you shove your phone into your pocket. "Secondly, Jack and I have always flirted. It's not exactly a well-kept secret."
He raises a brow. Bending at the knees to meet you at eye-level, Robby squints suspiciously. "You don't think that's the least bit cruel? Leading on a widower like that?"
You tuck your hands into your pockets to keep from slapping the smug look off his face. "We did it before you and I, and are clearly continuing the tradition after. It makes the day go by faster and the workday the least bit more bearable."
Which he should know, given the parade of women he's gone through around here.
Standing at full height again, Robby snorts in disbelief. "So it has nothing to do with the fact that he's my best friend?" he questions doubtfully.
You inhale a deep, calming breath. "As I just said, it's something we've done for years, Robby. Years." You quirk your head curiously to the side. "Is there something you'd like to say to me? Or can I enjoy the rest of my yogurt in peace and quiet—the whole reason I came out here to begin with?"
Hands planted firmly on his hips, Robby chews the inside of his cheek until the the metallic taste of blood pools on his tongue. With a roll of his eyes, he turns and heads back inside without another word.
Plopping back down, you scream quietly in the back of your throat before retrieving your now lukewarm snack. Frowning down at a honeybee who's now crawling across a melted chocolate chip, you shoo the creature away before tossing the cup into the trashcan behind you.
Steering clear of Robby for the remainder of your shift, you silently pray that tomorrow will be a brighter day.
Had you known he would behave this way, you never would've carried on with him in the first place. The last thing you want is for the ED to grow into a toxic workplace. Not that it's from a lack of you trying to keep the peace by being a normal, well-adjusted adult who's returned to treating Robby the way you always have—including when the two of you were screwing—but the fact seems to only be setting him off instead of putting him at-ease, as was your intention: that your work relationship remains unchanged, that is.
Absolutely beat by the end of the day, you manage to dip out early—just missing Abbot by ten minutes when he pulls in and you're already on your way home.
It pleases Robby, however, that the pair of you fail to have a chance to talk again tonight.
He wants a resident that he can dote on? He has plenty of them on nightshift. Hell, he can take any from dayshift that he wants if it'll get him to back the hell off of you once more.
Given how tired Robby is this evening, it's for the best, lest he fly into a fit of rage again when he sees Abbot wink at or give you another to-go container.
Sure, it's only been a couple of days, but lack of the utter relief he found daily between your legs and in your mouth—as well as the loss of being able to curl himself around you afterward while talking your damn ear off as he vented endlessly about work as his head rested between your soft breasts and you played with his hair, or when you would straddle his back in just one of his t-shirts while kneading the knots from it—has put him on-edge.
His hand can do in a pinch, but... It isn't soft and warm like you, nor does it quietly whimper as he comes undone in its arms.
Robby thought he wanted—like he always does—to get himself out sooner rather than later, but for the first time, he's regretting it.
At least with Janey, he didn't have to see her every day after he broke things off and shattered not just her heart, but Jake's as well.
A fact he still feels guilty about.
And Noelle... Well, she works on another floor, so contact between them is rare and fleeting. Maybe a nod in the hall or a quick "How are you?" is all he has to concern himself with every once in a blue moon.
But you? Everything that initially drew him in is now getting under his skin like a damn parasitic infection that he can't seem to rid himself of no matter how many measures he takes to do so.
Your easy-going nature and bubbly personality he found sweet. Perfect facets for a short-term fling. Your libido was a hell of a lot higher than his, but it only served to make him feel all the more desired. Now, however, with the rose-tinted glasses halfway removed, he sees that he wasn't quite as special as he first thought. He clearly could've been anyone, as it now turns out.
You just wanted something warm and hard to fill your... Needs.
He operates the way he does—dealing strictly in casual relationships—because it puts him in control. Of the coming and going, the how and why of when it ends... But this instance has thrown him fully off-kilter.
Because you just don't seem to care. In fact, in the ambulance bay, you were coming off as if it bothered you that he did.
Damn brat.
He has half a mind to pile on the work so high you can't even see the top. But that would surely earn him a one-way ticket to HR. Something he begrudgingly acknowledges he'd deserve for such assholish behavior.
With a sigh, he gathers his things, vowing to get his head screwed on straight before he blows his life to pieces all over a piece of ass.
He cringes on his way out for thinking of you like that.
Filing in alongside the afternoon rush, Noelle makes an appearance at the ED's hub, looking for none other than her past flame. She's well-aware that it's none of her concern, but if what she overheard upstairs a handful of days ago was indeed untrue, she'd like to have as much confirmed by the source before she goes correcting other people's ignorantly made statements.
Spotting the man in question standing tall at a computer cart, she heads in Robby's direction with quietly clicking heels.
"Heard from a little birdy that you've been seeing a resident." Crossing slender arms clad in a perfectly pressed suit jacket, she tilts her head to the side, sending silky black hair cascading over a shoulder. "Robby, please tell me that isn't true."
Keeping his eyes on the monitor in front of him, he snickers while the back of his neck warms. They've not spoken in weeks and this is what she presents him with as conversation material? "Alright, it isn't true."
She shakes her head with a disapproving look. "Really? Robby, I thought you were smarter than that."
Assuming a casual stance with hands tucked away into his pockets, he glances past her to where you sit charting but a handful of feet away. "It's not a big deal." Robby looks at Noelle again and shrugs. "It's over now anyway."
"May I ask whom?" she inquires politely.
He can't stop himself from looking at you again. Finally, you lift your head and he doesn't miss a beat. Sliding a hand down Noelle's arm, Robby barks an overly dramatic laugh. "You may, but I don't find myself obliged to answer."
When you greet him with a toothy smile, accompanied by two thumbs up and nod toward Noelle—as if you're encouraging him to make a fucking move—he drops the hand back down to his side with a feeling of defeat swelling up in his chest.
He'd like to carve it out with a scalpel.
Slowly turning her head out of curiosity, Noelle studies you with drawn brows. "Well, I suppose you don't have to now. She's certainly young enough." Returning her attentions to the chief of the ED, she folds her arms coolly behind her. "Are you aware that it's over?"
Now crossing his arms, Robby rocks back on his heels. "I'm sorry?"
Noelle grants him a knowing look. "You can hardly keep your eyes off of her."
Sarcastically rolling them, Robby locks the computer before heading to a patient room that lies behind where you presently sit. "S'cuse me."
Sighing to herself, Noelle debates momentarily before following behind. Stopping in front of the desk you occupy, she slides her forearms atop it and offers you her hand. "I don't think we've had the pleasure. Noelle Hastings."
Your mind whirring into a state of overdrive, you begin thinking of a way to be a good wingman for Robby, but after his actions from yesterday, you find him the least bit undeserving of such kind efforts. Wrapping your hand around hers, you give Noelle a firm shake. "Y/N," you quip with a happy smile.
Folding her manicured hands together, she leans forward. "I hope this doesn't come off as inappropriate... But out of a sense of morbid curiosity, I was wondering if you'd be opposed to sharing notes?"
"Notes?" you ask ignorantly.
"Well..." Noelle's lips tilt into a nearly imperceptible grin, like she's considering whether to go on with finishing her sentence. "Like his apparent inability to sleep without the TV on," she elaborates with a playfully scrunched nose. "Not that I experienced it but maybe twice since he's always so eager to usher you out the door once you're properly dressed. Heaven forbid he partake in a bit of pillow-talk," she says with a chuckle.
Eyes flitting to the room behind you, Noelle continues. "Sleeping with it on in the background was impossible for me." Her attentions return to you then. "He ever tell you why he does it? I mean, I have my theories, but..."
You slide now sweaty palms over the thighs of your scrub pants. Affable as you may be, gossip tends to make your stomach twist uncomfortably when it's presented. You don't enjoy lying, but she'll be none the wiser as to whether you're returning her honesty with the truth.
"I can't attest to it since I never stayed the night. Never could sleep in a bed that wasn't my own," you commentate with a laugh. "Vacations as a kid were a nightmare since hotels scared me."
The reality of it is, is that apart from the night with the phone incident, any other time you slept over was at Robby's behest. He'd stare up at you with these wide, pleading eyes while quietly whispering "please stay" as he clutched tenderly at your hand. Not wanting to hurt his feelings, you almost always agreed, despite it being against your mutually agreed to set of rules.
Once you were lain back in bed with the covers thrown over you, he'd scoop you into his arms and pull himself against the length of your body before burying his face between your breasts and closing his eyes.
Didn't take long after that for him to fall asleep.
She hums pensively. "Certainly is one for privacy, though, right? Couldn't believe how defensive he got the night I went looking in his medicine cabinet for a single bandage."
Is she positive you're both discussing the same man? From nearly week one Robby assured you that nothing was off-limits in his house. Hell, he actually encouraged you to make yourself at home during the handful of times you stopped by on the weekend for a quickie in-between running errands.
Never did take him up on such an offer, though. His space was his and yours was yours. Not that he ever came over.
Speaking of the medicine cabinet specifically, there had been an evening maybe three weeks ago when he told you to look in it while he was busy relieving himself in the toilet beside where you stood at the sink. When you popped it open, you weren't really sure what you were supposed to be looking for, until he nodded at a still packaged toothbrush. "Just incase," he'd remarked with a wink. "Figured you could put it next to mine in the cup there on the counter."
It didn't see much use in the end, though.
You don't know it, but Robby still hasn't tossed it.
Awkwardly clearing your throat, you swivel your mouse and the computer screen bleeds back to life. "I don't mean any offense, Noelle, because it's been nice talking to and meeting someone new, but I don't like to, um... Kiss and tell, for lack of a better term."
If Robby doesn't have as much respect for you, that's on him. You know your character.
"Oh." She leans back. "I'm sorry if I made you uncomfortable."
You wave your hands in a panic. "Oh, no, you didn't! I guess like anyone, Robby's a complicated man. I can agree on that account, at least."
She smiles. "That he is. Well," she says, now turning on her heel. "I'll let you get back to work then."
He was hurt initially when Noelle started in on disclosing his private behavior—worried it would lessen your opinion of him from wherever it currently stands at—but when you lied in order to shield him and the affection he tried to shower you with... It warmed his heart.
Robby had thought more of her than that. That she was more mature; seasoned when it came to concealing the details of an ex's private life like any middle-aged individual.
He was wrong.
Peeking at you from behind a patterned curtain, Robby's lips tug into a faint smile, appreciative of your discretion. And he hopes...protectiveness over what you had.
Admiring the swell of your backside and the outline of a pair of floral panties from where you're bent over trying to retrieve the Sharpie you dropped, Jesse stretches a rubber band between both of his index fingers before firing.
"Ow!" Clapping a hand over your ass cheek, you about-face and scowl at your offender. "You're such a pain in my ass, Jesse."
He grins. "Literally this time."
Were his glasses not resting on the bridge of his nose, Robby wouldn't have believed his eyes just now. So now it's not just one, or two, but three men that're vying for your fucking attention? Who's next, then? Shen? Mateo? Might as well just form a damn line at this point!
Crumpling a sheet of paper into a ball, you toss it at his head, but sorely miss when he rounds the end of the nurse's station with his head thrown back in a mocking laugh. You're just considering rifling through his desk drawer to steal a snack or a hard to obtain stationary item when your eyes meet with Robby's steely gaze.
With his lips drawn into a taught line and his nostrils flared, you shrink into yourself, like a child ashamed that she got caught with her hand in the cookie jar.
He shakes his head in disapproval before returning to the tablet propped up against his bent knee.
Throwing yourself down into a cushioned rolling chair, you switch on a computer to finish up your end of the day charting—far too aware of his nearby presence. Such a party-pooper.
Hopping onto your bed, you position the head of your plastic hairbrush above your mouth and belt the lyrics You're looking like an angel on the walls of Versailles as Olivia Rodrigo blares from the bluetooth speaker in the living room.
The most alive I've ever been, you cry while swinging your hips from one side to other, but kiss me and I might drop dead!
Falling onto the mattress, you bounce, then hang your head off the foot of it while kicking your legs excitedly in the air. Pisces and a Gemini, but I think we might go really nice together!
Robby can't sleep. No matter how much he tosses and turns, nor how many times he fluffs the pillow he's holding close to his chest which still smells of you—he'll do laundry this weekend, dammit; he has too much on his plate already to be worried about fucking sheets—rest refuses to find him.
Rolling onto his back, Robby stares up at a dark, lofty ceiling while stewing in anger aimed at none other than himself.
He wants to blame you—has tried to the last few days—but the fault lies solely with him as to his predicament of perpetual bachelorhood. Can he really blame any of the others for being so taken with you? He has been since you were but a doe-eyed med student, so he obviously understands the crushes they're all harboring, even if he wishes otherwise.
Maybe he's kidding himself by thinking the two of you ever had a chance at anything more, had he not broken things off.
When he presented you with the idea of quick, easy sex, you leapt at the opportunity, and it almost unsettled him how easily you went along with the typical set of rules he always keeps in place, so as to retain a healthy amount of metaphorical distance between himself and whoever his chosen sexual partner for the next month or two is.
Perhaps part of him had been secretly hoping you'd object—would complain about how you wanted to snuggle on the couch, hold hands while walking into work, and go on cute little dates to local diners. Instead, it seems he had finally met his match in the detachment department.
You were actually worse than him about it.
Robby wondered at one time if that was what made him pine for your attention before long: because you were trying to play hard to get, which only spurred him on all the more. But no, it's just your personality, apparently.
Makes for good doctoring, at least.
You're not entirely mercurial and free-flowing, though. Anytime he asked you to stay... You would. That was what made him fall, he thinks: the nights he spent curled around you, safe in your arms while he rested peacefully against your breast.
Before you, every night was an hour long battle—if not longer—in terms of getting to sleep. But with you? The sound of your softly thumping heart always sent him dozing off after only a matter of minutes.
He slept like a damn baby where you were concerned.
And there was the way you'd play with his hair when his head would be resting in your lap after a long day as he read aloud to you, or the stupid trivia gameshows the two of you would watch in bed, debating the answers to ridiculous questions before a buzzer proved you both wrong.
Being in your company was just...easy. It didn't give him anxiety about the future or instill him with fear of the unknown. For once, he was finally able to live in the moment.
And no, he didn't require the TV to be on while he slept next to you because being wrapped in your arms equaled a quiet head. You're quite the contradiction yourself, speaking of. A free spirit with a nurturing side.
Sighing, Robby yanks his phone off the nightstand and dials.
He lets it ring damn near a dozen times before finally ending the call—his head now swimming with visions of Park pounding away inside of you, or Jesse fondling your ass while your own intimate escapades become long forgotten as he's replaced with another younger model.
Blinking wet lashes, Robby sets his jaw and sniffles quietly. He supposes this is what he deserves: a taste of his own medicine for once.
Was only a matter of time before karma came knocking.
With the shower now heating up in the bathroom, you plunk down in the middle of your bed and begin scrolling through unread notifications. When you see a missed called from Robby, your heart lurches.
Uh oh, is something happening at the hospital? He didn't leave a message, so hopefully not.
Best call him back, though, to make sure.
"Hey!" you beam when he promptly answers "Sorry I missed your call earlier, I didn't hear it. What's up?"
Your shirt is eschewed and hanging off of one shoulder, your skin is covered in a thin sheen of sweat, and your chest is rapidly rising and falling in a clear effort to catch your breath.
Not to mention the mess of bedding found just behind you.
Is that a damn shower he hears running in the background?
Robby's ears perk up at the sound of a man's voice coming from a room away which immediately sets his blood to fucking boiling.
Turning to the side with an arched brow, your face screws into an expression of confusion.
What? Your little one-night stand already crying for you from the other room?
"Nothing," Robby hisses while you're still turned away. "It was an accident."
Staring at your mussed reflection on a now dark screen, you sigh then toss the device aside before pushing off the bed and padding into the bathroom to change whatever God-awful dad rock has come onto Spotify.
Whatever was the cause for Robby's attitude isn't your problem right now. Or ever, really. Your apartment is finally nice and clean, as are you about to be before long, and there's leftover Chinese food in the fridge.
For once, everything feels peaceful again.
Removing your sweat-stained t-shirt, you toss it into the laundry hamper before stepping beneath a cascade of steaming water.
"Good morning," you say warmly while greeting Robby with a sunny disposition.
He only hums in response, choosing to keep his eyes trained on the inside of his locker rather than bidding you the same pleasantry.
Wrapping your stethoscope around your neck, you pluck a ballpoint pen from the middle shelf and tuck it into your pocket.
"Looked like you got quite the workout last night," Robby grumbles quietly.
Clicking your locker shut, you chuckle. "Oh, yeah, the best cardio," you reply sardonically—deciding not to mention how you started squealing when a sticky cobweb got stuck to your face. "I'm gonna go check the board. Let me know if you need any help today!"
Watching as you walk away, it's all Robby can do not to flip the bird at the back of your head. How can you be so cocky about it? It isn't normal for someone to be this happy all the time.
Are you on something?
He never got that impression before, but supposes it makes sense.
Perhaps he should take a peek in your chart. Finding out that Langdon was hooked on benzos was bad enough. To discover that you had to get high in order to lie beneath him... He doesn't know whether he could tolerate the knowledge.
Not even lunch from a nearby sandwich shop managed to improve Robby's mood. He can't keep on with this headspace. It's not fair to you, the staff of the ED, or any patients who he could potentially end up taking his frustrations out on when someone inevitably refuses to listen to sage medical advice.
A glass door slides shut behind Robby, casting the exam room you're wrapping things up in in silence. "Can I at least ask who?" he asks gently, not wanting to intrude if he's not welcome to.
He understands that he isn't entitled to anything here, including answers if you choose not to give them. Your affairs are your affairs and they have nothing to do with him.
It's not right him acting otherwise.
It'll only lead to you feeling uneasy around him and that's the last thing he would ever want.
Your education comes first.
Glancing to him, you cup your hand beneath a sanitizer dispenser. "Who what?"
He studies you from beneath long lashes. "Last night. Who you were with when you called me back."
Uh... Why does he think there was someone in your apartment with you?
Wait.
Did he see something on camera? A chill crawls up your back. "I was alone. Why do you think otherwise?" you ask hesitantly.
His brows furrow. "I heard the shower. And another man's voice. C'mon, sweetheart, I might be old, but I'm not stupid. Not to mention the—the state you were in."
Rubbing the sanitizer into both your palms and along the backs of your hands, you take a step forward. "I was warming it up. I'd just gotten done cleaning my apartment right before you called. Well... I cleaned my apartment, then sort of ran around singing pop music and putting on my own personal concert with a hairbrush," you admit sheepishly. "As for the voice, it was some awful rock station Spotify picked out. God knows why."
He takes it back. He's both old and stupid.
"You were alone."
"Just me and Olivia Rodrigo," you confirm with a nod.
He raises a brow, to which you bat a hand in response. "Singer."
"Ah," Robby replies with a nod.
Submerging your hands in your shirt pockets, you cock your head to the side. "Why do you ask?"
Moment of truth.
Robby sighs. "I was jealous. I have been this whole week and I've been making you pay for it." He presses his lips into a thin smile. "I'm sorry."
You give him a once-over with a scrutinizing gaze. "So, are things going to return to normal now?" You lean your hip against the exam table. "Or are you going to pout when Abbot gives me a piece of gum?"
Robby considers for a moment while watching the hustle and bustle of the ED on the other side of the door. "Maybe I made a mistake."
Your brows knit closely together. "What do you mean?"
Studying the laces of his boots, he shrugs with a dismissive shake of his head. "Calling it off. Letting you go. Not asking for more." He lifts his chin. "All the above."
"Are you saying you want to continue hooking up?" You question with a cocked head.
You don't know how keen you are on that idea with how tiresome he's been the last handful of days—it'd be akin to rewarding bad behavior without an ounce of consequences being paid for it—but a warm body is admittedly a considerable improvement over a silicone toy.
Running a hand through his hair and down the back of his neck, Robby digs his fingertips into freckled skin. "No. I mean..." he sucks his teeth. "I'd want sexual intimacy, yes, but more than that. I want us to be together."
The last sentence was spoken so quickly and quietly that it was barely an octave above a whisper. Nevertheless, you heard him.
"Like a relationship?" you inquire with crossed arms.
He nods.
You've had him in bed—inside of you—but not even then did he looks so soft and small and vulnerable. Almost boyish with the way he's rocking back and forth from the balls of his feet to his heels. It's kind of cute, really.
So shy.
Coming to stand in front of him, you pull one of his hands toward you and wrap each of your own around it. "Okay."
Robby's head lifts so swiftly that something pops in the back of his neck. "Okay?" he repeats with a lilted tone of surprise.
"I have one rule, though. Or...an understanding, anyway, that needs to be agreed upon."
Cupping the side of your neck with a warm, heavy palm, Robby brushes his thumb along the underside of your jaw. "I'm all ears, sweetheart."
"You get one shot at this," you state point-blank. "And I don't mean we're not allowed to argue or have disagreements or lose our tempers on occasion. That's bound to happen; it's a normal part of any relationship. What I do mean is that if your commitment issues manifest a few weeks or months from now and you start thinking about running, that's it. I won't allow you to treat my life like a revolving door."
As if plenty of others aren't trying to pass through it, he muses. Sliding his palm down to the crown of your shoulder, he gives it a gentle squeeze. "So just like that you're mine?"
You nod and your stethoscope nearly slips off of you with the motion. "Yes."
His lips tug into a displeased frown. "So... I ask you to start sleeping with me and you do. I call it quits and you couldn't seem to care less. I come back groveling, and you hardly bat an eye before telling me okay to being together. I'm sorry, sweetheart, but it's hard to take this seriously when you seem to just go along with wherever the wind blows you."
You can feel the vein in the middle of your forehead swelling up to size. "Did you expect me to get down on my hands and knees while begging you not to leave me? You said it was over and that was that. I'm not pleading with someone to stick around who has no interest in it. I think more of myself than that."
Not to mention that he's way too old to be playing these sorts of head games...
He'll never admit it, but the pride you seem to have in yourself he finds the least bit threatening to his ego. But it's also a turn-on, if he's being completely honest with himself. "Just hard to feel like an exception when it's coming off like I could be anybody. Abbot, Park, Jesse. What makes me different?"
From the way he runs the ED with an iron fist, you'd never think him so insecure.
It makes you wanna pinch his cheeks. Or slap one.
"Like I said about Park, I don't like him. Period. As for Jesse... Yes, we've joked around every now and again, but I honestly think of him more as a brother. Whether he shares that sentiment is his own business."
"And Jack?" Robby presses.
Removing his hand from where it's slid down your arm, you splay his fingers apart and lightly squeeze his fourth one. "He still wears his ring." Lifting your head, you gaze into Robby's eyes. "They didn't... Fall out of love or go through a nasty divorce. She died while he was still in love with her," you explain with the utmost care. "I can't ever hope to compete with that. His ring would serve as a constant reminder of what I have to try and live up to: impossible standards I could never even attempt to meet."
He nearly asks you what if Abbot stopped wearing it, but supposes it's a moot point. For right now, he does. End of story.
Craning his head down to meet you halfway, you tilt your own back and smile when his lips brushes against yours. "My girl," Robby murmurs before closing the breathy gap between you with a kiss.
"You like that?" you ask breathlessly. Lifting your hips, you slide down the considerable length of him and he utters a quiet curse.
Slapping a hand against your ass cheek, Robby watches with appreciation as the plump skin ripples like water before digging his fingers into the meat of your hips again. "Told you it feels better without a condom."
You roll your eyes, but with him seated behind you, he's unable to see it. "Don't really feel much of a difference myself, but—"
"Fuck, feels so much better on my end," Robby moans.
Straightening, you begin bouncing on it with a repeated wet plap, plap, plap while toying with your pebbled nipples.
"Turn around, sweetheart," he mutters; his hands sliding up your stomach and brushing along the underside of your soft breasts. "So I can look at you."
Lifting off his hard cock, Robby fists himself in his hand as you spin around. Guiding his swollen, leaking tip back between your slick, fluttering walls, he moans pleasurably when your cunt swallows his girthy length again until the shaft disappears entirely.
You love the way he stretches you open so deliciously.
Wrapping an arm around his shoulders, you cup the back of his head in your other palm before pulling his face between your sweaty breasts. "C'mere, baby," you coo affectionately.
His dick stirs and you snicker softly. Leaning his head back, you flick the tip of your tongue across his lips. "You gonna come inside me? Huh?"
Robby blinks wide eyes of pleasant surprise. "You'll let me?"
You grin. "I want you to," you reply with a faux pout. "I'm not getting off it until you do." Crushing your lips to his, your tongues tangle together in a battle for dominance.
Rapidly rocking your hips until a familiar bang, bang, bang of the headboard can be heard, you break away, then reposition your lips next to his ear. "You're such a good boy."
He shudders, so you drag the lobe of his ear gently between your teeth. "Come for me, baby. Come for mama."
Slapping a hand over your ass and squeezing hard enough to leave a bruised print, Robby bends his knees before hammering away between your pulsating walls. "O-oh fuck," he stammers. "I'm s-so fuckin'—"
"That's it," you sigh encouragingly. "Y-you're almost there. A little more."
Biting down on your shoulder, he chokes back a muffled growl. His whole body seizes while his cock twitches and spurts inside of you in-between long, deep, filling thrusts.
"Good boy," you gasp happily. "Oh my God, that's such a good boy."
Pressing your lips to the crown of his head, you ride out your high—flexing your walls around his emptying cock as your own orgasm ascends to its pique, leaving you a mess of babbling, praiseful words as you cling to Robby, tracing your tongue along his naked, salty skin while you do.
Gazing up at Robby from where your chin is resting against the back of a hand you've planted atop his hairy chest, you smile when he does.
He's been doing so for the last almost half an hour while tracing lazy circles along your naked hip. "That good, huh?" you ask with a laugh.
He rolls his head from side to side. "Just happy," he rumbles.
You press a damp kiss to his stubbled cheek before toying with his necklace. "Can I ask you something?"
He smirk morphs into a contended grin. "Anything."
"Not to bring another person into bed with us, but... Noelle and I spoke the other day. I don't know if you were aware."
Bending an arm behind his head, he nods. "I was. Heard most of it."
Eavesdropper...
"Why were you so different with her? Or... With me?"
It's been eating at you, truthfully.
He chews his lip for a moment in thought. "It's not that she did or didn't do something. I mean, I had nothing against her being around. She just... She didn't make me laugh. I felt like when I was with her—and maybe this was just me—that I couldn't step out of my role as chief, even when I was here in my own home. I struggled to let my guard down or relax. There was this need to be in serious "adult mode" 24/7." He tilts his head to the side. "There wasn't any vulnerability."
You lift a brow. "Thought you preferred that?"
He sighs and readjusts the pillow tucked against the crook of his neck. "Thought I did too. 'Til you came along."
You curl your fingers into the coarse hair smattered across his chest. "Is it because you think more highly of her than me? So you felt a need to impress by being—as you say—serious? That because I'm younger, I'm just the fun squeeze toy to keep around?"
Finally he finds a crack in your perfect sunshine façade. He rocks his head from side to side. "No. Was just a difference in personality. We all have various faces we wear. With different people, during different occasions... With her, I was Michael Robinavitch, chief attending of PTMC's ED. With you, I can just be me."
Not that he's wholly sure who that is most days now, but he hopes at your side, he can finally start to figure it out.
Cupping his cheek, you press a kiss to his lips. "I know exactly who you are."
A curious brow curves upwards.
"Sweet boy," you simper.
He huffs a laugh.
Turning onto his side, Robby pulls you flush against his weighty belly. "I'll be whatever you want me to be, sweetheart."
Twining your fingers in his hair, you nod and bring him in for a kiss.
having a mixed fandom blog is kinda funny bc oh you thought you followed me for this one specific fandom? have fun when my brain fixates on a completely different genre of media<3
tags/warnings: age gap, established relationship, grumpy old man dean, implied smut, mentions of smut, mentions of sexual positions
notes: you’ll never convince me he didn’t know what fifth base was NEVER
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‘Who?’ Dean asked, his face already scrunched up with disdain.
‘Sabrina Carpenter,’ you explained, like you had every time you’d mentioned scrimping, saving and scrambling for tickets. You’d lucked out, scoring two not shabby seats in near the middle of the arena. Now you just needed someone to go with.
‘I’m supposed to know who that is?’ Dean asked, raising his eyebrow as he took a sip of his coffee.
‘You have to,’ you reasoned, knowing full well he didn’t listen to anything that post-dated 1979 and only scrolled social media over your shoulder in bed, ‘you know the short one? Blonde, wears those little leotards you pretend not to notice on my TikTok.’
‘Oh her,’ Dean said, his mind drifting a little too far back to last night when you’d been watching concert videos, excitedly awaiting your turn in the next week. When he noticed you eyeing him, he shifted, clearing his throat with an, ‘oh yeah.’
‘So you’ll come?’ you asked hopefully.
‘No,’ Dean said without thinking.
‘Oh, come on!’ you whined.
‘I don’t know any of the songs!’ Dean reasoned.
‘You know the espresso one,’ Sam commented from where he was making coffee over on the other side of the kitchen. Dean scowled at him as he left grinning.
Okay so he did know that one, but only because you insisted on putting it on in the Impala and he couldn’t say no to you. At least when it didn’t mean standing in a stadium surrounded by teenage girls. Or when it didn’t mean getting a smirk from Sam.
You paid Sam no attention. Any distraction could lose you the war and you were determined not to let it.
‘You know others,’ you insisted, ‘we listened to her new album in the car last week.’
‘That chick?’ Dean scoffed, ‘all she does is sing about shitty dudes.’
‘She sings about the complex realities of the heterosexual female predicament,’ you countered, leaning forward to put a hand on his, ‘unfortunately shitty boyfriends are just a substantial part of that.’
‘You calling me a shitty boyfriend?’ he challenged.
‘I don’t know,’ you said haughtily, ‘are you gonna come with me?’
Dean seemed to think about it for a minute offering you a smile which made one bloom on your face.
‘No.’
‘Dean!’ you whined.
‘Pout all you want princess,’ he shot, pushing back from the table as he started to tidy your discarded breakfast plates, ‘but unless those tickets come with a side of pie and zero screaming teenagers, I’m staying right here in the bunker.’
Then he leaned down, pressing a kiss to your nose as you scowled and watched him head to the sink. You watched him, trying to think of your next angle.
‘You know I’d it for you,’ you challenged, ‘if you wanted to see someone.’
‘Nice try, Zeppelin broke up,’ he called, swilling the plates in the sink with his back to you.
‘Metallica isn’t,’ you challenged.
‘Yeah, well, next time they’re in town you can prove it, and then we’ll go and see Selena Carpenter,’ he said, drying his hands on a towel as he turned around.
‘Sabrina,’ you challenged. Dean smirked and took another sip of coffee.
You knew then you needed an incentive. More than that, you needed a gimmick. And by God if the Miss Sabrina herself didn’t give you one. You stood, ambling your way over to him, your face glum as you stepped into his space, his arms wrapping around you on instinct.
‘You’re right,’ you sighed dramatically, ‘I suppose I can find someone else to take.’
‘Try Cas. Or Jack, he likes chick music,’ Dean teased.
‘I know, I know,’ you said, your hands gliding up his chest, ‘I just thought you might have fun. You know after…’
Dean paused, eyes narrowing at you as you offered another sigh. He knew he was in for it when you did that. That whatever words poured out of you with that pout and those puppy dog eyes that rivalled Sammy’s would make him do whatever it was you wanted. Even stand in a crowd of people twenty years younger than him, bad knee aching, and songs he didn’t know crooned at him by some spunky pop princess.
‘What’s after?’ he asked, cursing himself before the words left his lips.
‘Well, she has all these TikTok trends,’ you said. Dean rolled his eyes, ‘its why she’s so popular but the best one is the Juno position.’
Dean stayed unfathomably still, though his eyebrow raised slightly.
‘You were right, her songs are kinda about men but they’re kinda horny. One of them, Juno, talks about positions. She does a different one on stage every night,’ you said, watching as Dean’s mouth parted slightly. You pulled your phone from your back pocket, quickly pulling up an example as you explained, ‘girls go with their boyfriends and film a TikTok or whatever saying that they’ll do whatever position she picks that night...’
Dean paused, looking at you for a second before glancing down at the sequins and spray tan sparkling before him. Then he cleared his throat, pulled the phone from your fingers, and said, ‘so this stadium parking bookable online now or???’
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‘Well,’ Dean said, draping himself over you, lips chasing your jaw as you tried to catch your breath. You’d been at it for hours, Kansas City soon migrating into Nashville, Philly, Chicago, Minneapolis, and Boston (because he’d been such a good sport).
‘Can’t say I like the songs, but the girl knows her way around the bedroom.’
‘Excuse me, why’s she getting the credit? I put in the work,’ you giggled, teasing your hand up behind his neck, fingers running through the hair there, tugging which made him grunt as his lips brushed against yours.
‘Yeah, well my knee would like to argue different,’ he teased, ‘or do you wanna review the tape.’
‘Dean!’ you blushed, the idea he’d had that had sounded like a very good idea at the time now making you flush deep crimson. Dean grinned.
‘You know if we put that on your TikTok thing, I bet we’d get more likes than your little singer friend in the hour,’ Dean drawled.
‘Maybe,’ you said, your finger dancing along his cheek as you smiled, another idea popping into your head, ‘you know... everyone’s speculating when that she goes to Paris, she might-’
‘Sweetheart, unless you can find another me. Paris we’re skippin’.’
"fandom is dying," they whine as they stab artists and writers in the chest with discourse knives and harassment screws. "why isn't anyone making content for me to greedily consume for free as I make the experience worse for them and everyone around me?"
brendon park x sunshine!ERdoctor!reader as romance tropes
a/n: hello my lovely people! to celebrate my hitting 200 followers, i wanted to give you a little something :')
the next chapter isn't ready yet buuuut i do write random stuff about them in my notes app so i figured, why not work on it to make it into a post! and i've decided on them as their very obvious romance tropes. also, you get to know the two a little bit more. i know it's not the usual format but i hope you enjoy nonetheless <3
long ass author's note so if youre still reading wowie ty for letting me yap
cw: brendon and reader are already in an established relationship, pure fluff, small angst bec reader deals with self-doubt, use of em dash do not piss me off
wc: 1.1 words
she fell first, he fell harder
- the first time you saw brendon across the er, you knew you were done for. he was so tall, had this brooding thing going on, so confident in his own quiet way, so man. him on the other hand? did not even notice you. he's extremely straightforward and likes to work with the same attitude. he went down for a consult, headed directly to the room where he was needed, then returned back up.
- you knew there was no catching his eye at work. you thought about introducing yourself the next time he came down but decided against it. your meet-cute? a good old elevator ride. you lasted all of two seconds before blurting out a "hi," followed by telling him your name. to which he just replied with "park," not even sparing you a glance.
- after stepping out the elevator, you opened your phone, pulled up your groupchat, and sent i am so marrying that man.
- brendon, on the other hand, had an entirely different experience. he valued routine, he wanted everything to be uncomplicated. you messed up both of that. and that thought alone was enough to tire him out and force himself to not think about you.
- when he finally came to terms with his feelings (he despised that word), the man knew he was all in. you want him, sure. you have a crush on him, sure. but him? he would live inside your skin if he could. he would follow you around, doing nothing, and be okay with it if it meant being in your vicinity. to say he's obsessed is the understatement of the century. the man bought a ring after your first date, for fuck's sake.
grumpy x sunshine
- you wear your heart on your sleeve. you love loudly and unabashedly. there's not a day in the er when you did not find a single reason to laugh. while life has not exactly been kind to you, you still appreciate it. and brendon is... brendon.
- truthfully, he did not know he was merely surviving and letting life pass by until you. he thought being an orthopedic surgeon was all he ever needed. now, he spends his every day wanting to make you smile, to hold you close, to feel your breath against his cheek. while he has not changed his ways with other people, he has started looking forward to mundanity knowing you're there.
- one time, he had a day off and was looking forward to lazing around with you. a schedule conflict, a complication, and an emergency later, he had to scrub in. it is safe to say that brendon is never a pleasure to be around but especially so that day.
talks a lot x listens
- you're the type to say everything. you're sleepy? you voice it out. you're craving something? everyone around you knows. your eyes are itchy? consider that a headline.
- brendon cherishes everything you say, no matter how meaningless (never a word he'd use to describe what you talk about, by the way). as cliche as it may seem, he remembers everything. the man is smart as hell. remembering the things the love of his life says is nothing to him. he doesn't even have to make an effort, it just comes naturally.
- you're also the type to fill in the silence when things get too quiet. sometimes, your attempts are a hit. others, not so much. who can blame an awkward girl for trying? brendon thinks it's endearing and he would glare the hell out of anyone who snickers or reacts in a way he didn't like.
- one time you overheard someone in the staff room say that they should start a bet on how long before brendon gets tired of you. you take that to heart. of course you do. you don't bring it up to brendon, he notices youre upset anyway.
- when the both of you got home, he asked outright what's wrong, one you attempt to brush off. after forcing you to sit and staring you down, you asked him in the smallest voice he's ever heard, "will you tell me when you get tired of me?" he's appalled. brain already racking, trying to figure out where this is coming from. the use of when and not if is not lost on him.
- when he finally got you to explain, he spent the rest of the evening showing you how deeply you've rooted yourself in his soul that he genuinely cannot fathom life without you. and when you notice, days later, that you no longer see the man who suggested you were too much? brendon would just shrug you off.
bonus: my girl is mad at me i hope i die
- now this is less of a trope and more of a meme LMAO. still fitting for the two though.
- most people around you think that you're too sweet, too in love, too sheepish to express anger toward brendon. what they don't know is while you struggle with self-doubt and insecurity, you are aware of how you should be treated and what you deserve.
- so when he had a particularly rough shift and kept talking to you at home like how he would with an intern? you directly said to his face, "i don't like you right now." your eyes may have been filled with tears and your voice may have wavered a bit but you stood your ground, told him you're spending the night at trinity's, and left him standing there.
- the switch in brendon's mood was immediate. he felt like shit. he was mad at himself for hurting you, for being the reason you were crying. he's always known he was quick to anger and judgement. he's always had his walls up. he finally found someone worth taking them down for, but he fucked it up. he was so used to certain ways and he hated himself for going back to how he was before you.
- the both of you were not able to discuss what happened for a few days. not for his lack of trying—if anything, the man was annoyingly persistent and he had apologized over and over again. however, you were too hurt to even listen to him. you have a tendency to spiral. feeling as though you did not know brendon, even for just a few moments after he arrived home, terrified you.
- brendon knew of this so he let you be. that didn't stop him from feeling worse and worse though. he kept thinking he should have known better. he kept berating himself, how dare he ruin the only good thing in his life? simply put, he was pathetic.
- it took a long conversation and many tears shed (from you) before you were able to fully forgive him. brendon never ever let his sour mood enter your space again.
a/n: as always, thank you very much for reading! comments and reblogs are soooo appreciated <3 also! i should be caught up with updating my taglist. if you commented but haven't heard from me/don't see yourself here, please let me know!
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