so when you settle in robby’s lap, and start trailing your fingers over his eyebrows, down the slope of his nose, he settles back and allows it.
it’s only when your fingers start trailing down his chest, squeezing firmly at the muscle of his stomach and carding through the hair on his chest, that he starts to get a little tense.
fuck—he knows you’re not trying to rile him up, that you’re just touching him for the fun of it, but he’s already hard. cock pressing pathetically up against the front of his shorts, a small gasp slipping from his lips when you accidentally shift your hips.
you tilt your head, concern seeping into your tone. “robby? you okay?” and he tries to answer, really, but all that comes out is a whimper. his hands find your hips, his own hips jerking up, settling against you more firmly so he can grind up against you.
one, two, three—
and robby is cumming, tucking his head into your shoulder, shuddering against you as it wracks through him. you’re still touching him, holding him, and he squeezes his eyes shut, breathing shaky.
Doctor Robby coaxing you through taking your t shots.
Your neighbor is a lot better at it, being an ER doctor- and you both live alone. He’d heard you crying through the thin ass walls months ago, knocked on your door gently begging to help him help you so he could go the fuck to sleep. You were young- maybe early twenties, reminded him too much of his pittlings and crying because you were too scared of needles to give yourself your own t shot.
So of course, he expresses his occupation and expertise in giving shots, gently adjusts you on the bathroom floor and holds your thigh between his thick fingers like it’s no big deal. It’s mesmerizing, you’ve never been touched so gently by anybody like this. He’s older, he smells like musk and old books- and Robby’s voice is so gentle when he speaks to you. It’s not condescending somehow, it’s.. patient.
The routine starts from there, once a month. You knock on the doctor’s door when you can hear his TV through the walls, playing all night and keeping you both company. You bring over dinner, he administers your t shot and then you go back to your respective apartments. Of course, your routine is also jerking off viciously to the idea of Doctor Robby putting those calloused hands all over you, not just the soft hairy squish of your thigh where he administers shots.
It’s bad one night, when he’s gently administering the shot. “You’re comin’ along well, kid. A lot hairier, n’ you eat like a wild animal. ‘S good, you’re growing into a man- gotta keep up with your body,” Robby praised, patting your thigh where he’d pricked you while you jump in place. Those dark brown eyes glance over at you for a moment, nervous that he’d scared you. Little did he know, every single touch and glance made your little cock throb with need.
“Woah- easy, kid. ‘S just one prick, I got you remember? Just like every time,” the man’s voice rumbles through your ears, your muscles flexing involuntarily under his fingers as you feel your cheeks burn. You laugh it off, elbowing him and skittering off to your own room to slam your poor swollen pussy with the dildo you had as you imagined the old bastard talking you through it.
Robby’s bigger, only a couple inches bigger than you at 6’1. But you know he’s got a five incher, maybe a little thick at the base but otherwise painfully average. God- probably with grey hairs littering his bush, just like his beard. Every thrust had you whimpering into your pillow, imagining that he’d lived long enough to know how to show you a good time anyways.
Plus- those fingers could probably fill you up all on their own. Thick, hairy and probably perfect against your throbbing cock, pinching gently as he’d coax you through another orgasm.
“Fuck- easy, kid. Gotta cum at least twice before I fuck you, I can’t keep up with kids like you otherwise. Come on- good job, good job,” you could almost hear Robby murmuring in your ear, nearly taste the sweat against his throat as you came for a third time that night.
Poor little you, his perfect patient. It wouldn’t be long till you figured out Robby had been jerking off to the way your thighs had becoming thicker, hairier every time under his hands. The way your facial hair had started to grow in, the way your voice had dropped. He’d done that- he’d helped permanently mark you, and now you weren’t just a boy-
You were his boy. Robby came to the thought of that at least three times a month, when he was able to actually get it up anymore. It was pathetic, to listen to you whimper through the wall and pretend it was him you were moaning about- but an old man has his hobbies, right?
Imagine an a/b/o au the omegas are the dominant sex, like they’re the ones that walk the alphas like a dog (picturing pathetic Robby)
aye aye cap'n (afab!reader)
alpha!dr robby x omega!reader
*****
Today's scent patches do not want to budge. They've been on for almost twelve hours now and desperately need to come off. You grimace as they peel away from your skin, releasing your scent into the bedroom air.
Not ten seconds later do you hear a thud and footsteps climbing up your stairs then down the hall to your bedroom. Robby was out of work today for the start of his cycle leave. You on the other hand still had another day before clocking out since it wasn't your cycle that needed to be dealt with.
Your alpha approaches from behind slowly, tentatively. He's dressed in a t-shirt and a pair of gray boxers, where an obvious tent greets you. Dully, you note that the tent had not been there when you walked through the door ten minutes ago. Robby leans down, his nose brushing your gland. His eyes are saucers, looking at you through the mirror.
"You smell like preheat," Robby's hands hover, shaking just inches away from your soft waist.
You sniff the used patches in your hands. The do not smell like preheat. In fact, the only thing you're smelling is rut, thick and heady as it assaults your senses.
"I think you are in rut and maybe a bit delusional."
"So mean..." Robby whines when his fingers accidentally brush your hips, "Can I?"
You sigh playfully, but nod. Robby pounces, gripping your hips and grinding his cock into your ass. The movement knocks you forward, and you have to grip the edge of the vanity to not hit your head on the mirror.
"Jesus!"
"Sorry!" He drapes his body over yours, relentlessly thrusting his hips against you. "Didn't realize how— how much I needed this."
Robby kisses your gland, right over the faded bite mark. He licks it, groaning softly as he does. You blindly reach back, shoving your hand through the neck hole of his shirt so you can dig your fingers into the gland where your own bite mark sits.
As soon as your fingers make contact, you hear a gasp and feel the stutter of Robby's hips as his fingers tighten their grip. "Ah— shit! Thank you, thank you, th— thank you," he rambles.
You peer at Robby though the window, see how his glasses slip down his face, ignored entirely in his bliss. You smile, even if your neglected clit throbs. You always love to see your alpha let loose.
"Baby, did you pop a knot?" Robby whines behind you. You reach back to grab the bulge in his boxers and he gasps. The dark spot on the fabric grows as more cum leaks out of his cock. "Aw, Robby, that's so cute!"
The alpha grumbles, "It's not cute." He manages to get himself upright again and helps you up, though Robby pointedly avoids your gaze.
"Of course not," you coo. "Now, should we get you cleaned up? I still need a shower..."
Robby's hips jerk, thrusting his clothed knot into your hand again. He lets out a whiny moan, eyes squeezed in bliss.
temperature is a touchy subject in your relationship. at least to you. the problem with inserting yourself into an established relationship between two old guys is that they’ve pretty much ironed out all their kinks by now. they’ve had the arguments, made the compromises, and moved forward. but now its your turn.
they keep their apartment, in jack’s words “reasonably cool” but in your words, “like a fucking freezer”. they both radiate heat like a motherfucker though, so luckily you’re able to use them as your own personal heaters. curling up to them like a cat on the couch, shoving your cold feet between their legs as you’re trying to fall asleep, molding yourself to one of their backs as they're standing against the counter in the kitchen.
but some situations don’t have such easy solutions. at least you think.
they have you naked, spread out on their shared bed. you’re on your back, your head cradled in jack’s lap, your hand wrapped around his hard cock, lazily stroking as you two watch robby undress. jack still has his boxers on, waistband pulled underneath his balls to give you just enough room to play with him.
but, robby strips himself bare where he stands at the foot of the bed. reaching behind himself to pull his long sleeve over his head, revealing the soft pudge of his stomach and the salt and pepper hair that litters from his collarbone all the way down to his waistband. you can tell he feels two sets of eyes on himself with the blush that spreads from the apples of his cheeks down the column of his neck. that's probably why he yanks down his boxers and sweatpants all in one go.
"he'd make a terrible stripper, don't you think, sweetheart?" jack jokes above you, his warm, calloused fingers rubbing circles against your shoulder. you giggle, looking up at him and the way his eyes rake over the miles and miles of skin robby just exposed to the both of you.
"as if you'd be any better, jackie." robby snarks back, but there's no heat in his voice.
you should be looking at robby's thick cock, how it bobs between his legs under its own weight. but instead, you're caught looking at the way they look at each other. so much love and affection and heat shared between their gazes.
you startle when you feel the bed shift and look down to robby knee walking up the mattress to settle between your spread legs. his big bear hands brush up your thighs, gently spreading your legs further to accommodate his wide frame. the stretch in your thighs zips right up to your cunt, causing a moan to slip past your lips that are trailing kisses along the base of jack's hard cock.
jack and robby talk amongst themselves as you squirm and shiver against the sheets. both of their hands ghost over your skin, jack's hands leaving goose bumps against your arms and robby's hands caressing your thighs and grazing your clit, causing your hips to jerk against the bed.
you should be lost in their words and their touches, but unfortunately, all you can think about is how the chill in the air nips at your skin. their big, worn hands usually bring you comfort and warmth, but their touches are light and teasing, only intensifying your shivers.
you could say something, you should say something, but you don't. the nasty little part of your brain that always tells you you'll only ruin things ringing loud and clear. robby and jack have been together for so long, their touches always sure and practiced with each other. you wanted that ease with them, but since joining them you've always felt awkward and a little out of place as you learned them and as they learned you.
you just wanted things to be easy with them, you didn't want to ruin the mood the three of you were building right now. but then robby leaned up, trailing his lips against the soft roll of your stomach, his beard tickling your stomach. you again jerked against the bed, a gasp leaving your lips and vibrating against jack's cock. you shiver in their holds, jack's rough hands groping your breast and robby trailing kisses down to your mound.
"hey, robby?", jack muses, voice a drawl above you.
robby's lips barely left your skin, murmuring a little "hmm?" against your curves.
jack's hand still where it had been groping your tit, instead trailing down to span against the softness of your stomach. he can feel you shiver and twitch underneath his hand. "i think our baby is cold," his voice is sure and knowing and cuts you right down to your core.
robby chuckles against your skin before pulling back to look up at you, a little smirk ghosting his lips, "is that why you're shivering, honey?", before meeting jack's gaze, "and here i thought we were just that good."
they're both laughing, which you take as a good sign, but robbys getting up from the bed, leaving you and walking across the bedroom. it makes your stomach drop. you try to sit up, reaching for jack's hand that's still on your stomach, effectively holding you down on the bed.
jack loosens his hold on you though, allowing you to sit up on your elbows. "hey, hey, no, i'm good! you don't have to..." you trail off, watching robby pick up the shirt he had been wearing moments prior that he had unceremoniously flung across the room. one of jack's hands slides across your shoulder coming to rest against the back of your neck. he gives you a gentle push when robby returns back to the bed, one knee on the foot of the bed as he gathers the shirt in his hands, presenting the neck hole to you.
"you didn't have to you," you murmur more to yourself as you allow him to slip the opening over you head, now surrounded by robby's deep, woodsy scent as he helps you get your arms in each sleeve.
jack hasn't moved, still leaned up against the pillows, cock resting half hard against his thigh. "yeah, sorry, princess but we actually want you to enjoy yourself tonight. i could tell you were preoccupied with the temperature, like usual." he teases.
"well, i'm not the one who keeps this place like a meat locker." you grumble, bunching up the too long sleeves into your fists. robby's fingers come to rest under your chin, "that better, baby?"
you break under his gaze and his words, a blush spreading across your face and heat returning to your cunt. "yeah," you agree as he brings your lips together for a kiss. he gropes at your waist underneath the shirt for a moment before pulling away.
he uses his grip to spin you around on your knees, tilting your waist until you fall forward onto your elbows. a shocked gasp leaves your lips at the sudden change before a moan falls from them as robby's hand smacks against one of your raised ass cheeks, "now, get back up there and give jack a kiss," he commands.
tom mason + former student reader who was a nursing major but kept taking history classes because of how passionate and friendly and cute the professor was. ends a few credits shy of a minor and never gets the nerve to tell him anything besides how great of a professor he is. you worked as a nurse for a year or two before everything happened, but you're pretty glad you didn't change your major because being in the 'medic' category means you get to spend a lot of time with the people in charge, including your former history professor. obviously things are so different now and you should be ashamed that these are the things you think about during a full blown alien apocalypse—how cute tom still is and how sometimes you're the only one paying attention to one of his historical anecdotes and how his hair is messy and how he lugs around military grade guns like it's nothing and is incredibly protective over everyone, his kids and the civilians and even you. maybe you still call him professor and admit that it's weird to say tom and how you were still reading historical novels before all of this happened and he can't stop thinking about that and about you. maybe he rescues you from a dangerous situation once or twice or you two end up pressed against each other with his hand covering your mouth while you wait for the creatures to pass by, staring at his eyes while you tremble under his grip. just maybe it starts teetering into inappropriate territory...
Med student Robby not only whines when he finishes… he’s twitching so hard you’re almost concerned
MED STUDENT!ROBBY MASTERLIST
he doesn't hear you ask if he's alright. he can't think or breathe or remember is own name. all the man can do is tremble so hard that the bed shakes along with him and spurt rope after rope against your walls.
a messy ring of cream gathers at the base of his cock, his hands digging into your hips as he snaps his waist upwards, burying his cock into you with unintelligible whines.
"fu... oh, god–ngh–yeah. fuckin' milk me."
robby groans out the desperate demand, quivering with thick gasps. smushing his nose into the side of your face to inhale while his tongue dances to lick at your jaw. he's sweaty and panting, reaching back to grab at your ass like it belongs to him with nails digging into the flesh as he fills you.
his mind is long gone. lost in a haze of needing to fuck himself stupid and using your hole to do it. floating in a place where only you and he exist, robby doesn't return until you're tapping the side of his face.
when he blinks, his vision is only halfway focused. just barely able to see that you're saying something to him, and, still, he can only hear he blood rushing through his ears. robby watches you, heaving and disoriented like he's been drinking, forehead damp and shining.
he takes almost too long to come back to the senses you stole with your clenching entrance and–as he puts it–stupidly gorgeous face.
janainaart
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prguitarman
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theartofmadeline
