iris 🌠

amaze, amaze, amaze!

[entallica]

‧₊˚❀༉‧₊˚. IRIS

—- eighteen. she/her. bisexual. the pitt. fluff enthusiast. <brave> writer & yapper. team cap!! nursing student <3 grace rocky save stars.

MASTERLISTS ‧₊˚❀༉‧₊˚.

THE PITT | PROJECT HAIL MARY | MARVEL

—- reqs: open!

⤷ rules & guidelines

[inmyvampireempire]

I love tumblr because somehow I can end up being mutuals with a celebrity (someone that wrote a fic that I loved)

[maelancoli]

trinity santos is a study in fandom misogyny because they gave her all the characteristics fandoms usually salivate for in men, being gruff, quippy and misunderstood with a tragic backstory but a heart of gold beneath it all. they put all this into her AND let her be a lesbian. she's everything you could ever want in a character but she's not a man so half the fandom either hates her or constantly mischaracterizes her as petty, callous and aggressive while doing mental gymnastics to baby the male characters around her

[entallica]

Trinity santos they could NEVER make me hate you.

[di1fluvr]

it's better when you do it | m. robinavitch

med student!Michael 'Robby' Robinavitch x reader

summary: another night of lackluster sex with your boyfriend leads you to Robby's door. who else would you confide in about your lack of pleasure than your closest friend. he's sure he can show you a thing or two.

tags/desc: 18+ MDNI, fem!reader, AFAB!reader, implied med student!reader but it doesn't really matter to the plot, young!robby, med student!robby, sleazy!robby, college/med school AU, to close to be 'just friends' trope, smut, cheating— do not read if it makes u uncomfortable!!, dubcon (robby convinces her its ok to sleep with him), unprotected piv (no hat not cat yall!), fingering, oral (f!recieving), light hair pulling, petnames/name calling (baby, sweetheart, dirty girl, slut, etc), pussy pronouns (she, her), super vague 90s references (was not born in the 90s so i wouldnt know LMAO), slightly proofread

wordcount: 5.7k (literally wtf)

a/n: 13 google doc pages later and here we are. i feel like the end is kinda rushed but fuck it we ball + peep the new profile theme 😛| requests are open—!! reblogs are a writers best friend

“Yeah baby— I’m so close!”

The old wood of the twin bed creaked and bumped into concrete walls. Soft thuds echoing off the walls, mixing with the feverish grunts of your boyfriend. Plaid sheets messily sprawled around your body, undone from being pushed aside in an effort to peel your clothes off. 

It’s an unsightly scene, at least in your eyes. Your chest pushed into the mattress, his sweaty hands gripping on to the plush skin of your hips, pulling your bottom half up and bending you in half. Weakly pushing and pulling his cock in and out of your somewhat interested hole. The feeling of his sloppy rhythm against your ass. Like a fish flailing on dry land. A pace that only he could enjoy.

Boring. Yawning. Sloppy.

The three words that stuck to your brain throughout the entirety of 15 minutes. You were glad your face was pushed into the pillow and partially covered by your hair. Or else your boyfriend would see the flat expression that you couldn’t manage to cover up. Playing off your ‘pleasure’ with fake high pitched moans. It’s good enough to fool him, make him feel like he’s really doing something. 

“Oh gosh I’m gonna—!” He chokes on his words as his hips come to a halt. Forcing you deeper into the pillow and mattress as his hips stutter. Dumping another sad, sad load into the condom.

A deep sigh left your lips, as you rolled over on to your back. Your boyfriend pulled out and sat on his heels, panting like a dog. A stark difference in who really got to feel it tonight. 

This is how the routine went on. You enter his dorm room, while his roommate is gone for the evening. Laze around on the cramped bed, converse about your days, then go straight into the act. You grew to— you had to grow to get used to it. Did you enjoy it, like it? Like is a very strong word. Of course, you cherished every moment with your boyfriend. But after the ill-fated honeymoon phase passed, a deep pit had started to form in your stomach. One that screamed concerns from its very depths. 

But you aren’t shallow, never will be. You know there is more to a relationship than sex. He got you flowers on every date. Held doors open for you. You liked the way his fingertips felt when they ran over your scalp. You can learn to enjoy mediocre sex. Maybe he just had to be trained a little more. 

Who were you kidding? Why should you have to train your own boyfriend on how to make you feel good?

“So uh— did you finish too baby?” You cringed at the question. Sweet, simple Derrek. Too lost in his own pleasure that he couldn’t tell, in the last few weeks, you had not been able to finish with him at all. Forcing you to take the burden of saving his ego by lying to him everytime. 

“Yeah, yeah I did. Thank you, honey.” Forcing a soft smile on to your lips as you give his arm a soft pat. 

And on with the routine; exchanging a few kisses, pulling clothes back on, and getting ready to slip out the door. 

“I’ll see you tomorrow, yeah baby?” He asked, holding the door open. The dim light of the dorm hall contrasted with the bright, warm light of his dorm room.

“Yeah. Yeah, maybe. I might have to study extra tomorrow night for my microbiology exam on Friday. But, I’ll call your line.”

“Please don’t tell me you’re studying with Robby— You know I don’t like that guy.”

You turn your body to start walking away. Really to hide the massive eyeroll. “How many times have I told you not to worry about Robby?”

You finally slip away from the dorm. Hearing the heavy, wooden door shut behind you as you trail down the hallway, a deep weight lifts off your shoulders. Finally dropping the act that came with every intimate night. The act of pretending that you didn’t want to shake him and scream to finally make you finish. To listen to your needs for a change. Throw in a spank in or something. Call you anything but your name.

You float out of the building, walking through dark courtyards with students lingering around walking to the library or back to their own dorm. Not much is on your mind as you aimlessly stroll. Thinking about what to eat in your little stash of snacks. If it’s time to do laundry. If you’d have to let your fingers slip into your panties to feel some kind of release. Mundane. That’s all it felt like after evenings with your boyfriend. Not magical, blissful, or euphoric.

It’s not long until you are on the floor of your dorm room. Passing by closed doors, old flyers start to peel off the walls. As you approach your door, reaching into your bag for your keys, your eyes drift to the final door at the very end of the hall.

Resident Assistant | Michael Robinavitch 

Do Not Knock After 9 PM! - robby

Your lips curled up from its original thin line. You knew Robby would make an exception this one time. It’s only 9:07 anyway. He always knew how to lift your spirits.

Fleeting past 3 doors, standing in front of Robby’s. Knuckles rapping against cool wood. A muffled groan on the other side, followed by subtle padding of footsteps leading up to the door.

“How many times do I have to tell you people… Read the sign—” As the door opens, Robby rubbing the tiredness from his eyes. Stopped in his slight annoyance from your surprise visit. Leaning against the door as he softens.

“Well good evening to you too, Robert. Am I interrupting your 9 PM bedtime? ” you ask with a fake pout.

“Never sweetheart.”

The mere presence of you is enough to turn Robby’s evening indifference into something sweeter. Reciprocating your smile with a slanted smirk of his own. Jerking his head backwards, motioning for you to come in. l told you to stop calling me Robert, slipping from his lips as a mumble. 

Slipping your shoes off and dropping your bag by the door. Your body finds its new home in Robby’s bed. Falling back into the mattress, that is somehow more comfortable than yours, humming at the easing feeling on your back. And Robby is quick to flop right next to you. Lean arm folding under his head, giving him room to slide right next to you. Pressing your sides against each other. Your head rests on his arm as a cushion as you lean into his body.

According to other people (anyone that isn’t you and Robby), this is not how two friends hang out. Friends don’t cuddle, which you weren’t cuddling anyways. It’s for body heat, and dorm beds are tiny; there's only so much space to go around. 

Ok, maybe the both of you cuddle. Just a little bit. Locking arms, tangling legs, occasionally falling asleep in that position after long nights of studying. It’s for bonding! It’s hard to make meaningful friendships in med school. Everyone either is too busy to hang out, or lives too high up on a self-proclaimed pedestal. And that’s why Robby is your closest friend. Best friends even, that occasionally cuddle, sleep in each other's bed, and give the off handed kiss on the cheek. Completely platonic. Anyone who thought you were more was overthinking it. Especially your boyfriend, who was not too happy when you would catch you sitting too close for his comfort. 

“Friends don’t call each other honey and sweetheart!” Derrek would say.

Yes they totally can. 

“What happened to your night out with your boyfriend? What’s his name, Connor? Brian?” Feigning interest in his eyes.

“It’s Derrek, don’t be a dick Robby. And it ended a little earlier than I thought. So why not pay a visit to my second favorite guy?”

“You must have the wrong room because Freddie Prinze Junior isn’t in here.” You roll your eyes and bite back an annoyed smile. With the uneventful time you had with your boyfriend, you were not in the mood for more jokes. Rolling your body over to let yourself out.

Robby whines, grabbing at your forearm to pull you back in. Pulling you back to the position you were previously in; cradled into his side as you rest on his tricep.

“Heyyy, I’m joking. You know I have all the time for you. What’s on your mind?” He said while nudging your side with his hip.

With a huff, you sit up and press your back against the cool wall, pulling your knees to your chest. Shaking your head, searing denial into your brain. Robby was not the right person to talk to about your bedroom troubles. As much as you want to.

“It’s nothing. Just didn’t feel like going back to my dorm.” But Robby knew you better than that. He egged you on, pushing and prodding you to tell him more. What did you really have to hide from him? He told you everything and as did you. Even though he loved to tease and poke fun at you, he never tried to judge you.

Biting on the inside of your cheek, you look at him cautiously. “If I tell you this, you cannot tell it to anyone else. Like at all.”

“Oh, so I can’t tell Freddie Prinze Junior?”

You smack his arm. “I’m being serious Robby!”

“Ok, ok fine— What’s the matter?” Robby moves himself up, just like you did. Back against the wall and knees slightly bent. Taking a hand to hook under your bent knee and pulling your legs to drape over his lap.

You groan and lean your head against the wall. Squeezing your eyes shut as embarrassment began to creep up your face. As open as you are with Robby, admitting anything about your sex life with your boyfriend was hard. Maybe it’s because you were trying to be serious with Derrek. And vowed to not give Robby any ammunition in order to make him get along with your boyfriend. But the dull sex was weighing on you. You had no one else to vent to about it. 

“For the past few weeks, maybe a month… Derrek has not been able to…” your hands roll in motion. “Finish the job. My job, per say.”

Robby’s eyebrows scrunch, that smart doctor brain of his took a few seconds to catch your drift. His lips turned into that sickening smirk that you knew all too well. He was not going to let you live this down. 

“You’ve been letting that bonehead have sex with you and not let you finish?” He taunts the idea in the form of a deep laugh. You wanted to give him another swat on the arm for laughing. But, you knew better because you knew he was right to laugh. To develop an inside joke with you for later down the line with this new information. Something that will cause him to give you a knowing look anytime he is in the same vicinity as Derrek. A very, I know something you don’t know I know, look. One that came with a shit eating grin.

“It’s not that he’s not letting me finish, I just don’t think he really knows that I’m not finishing…”

Robby dips his head down to level his eyes with yours, eyes that have been avoiding his ever since the conversation started. 

“Are you telling him that you finished?” You nod sheepishly. He stifles a giggle behind his lips, shaking his head to shake away how much knowing your own boyfriend can’t satisfy you is elating him. 

Robby always knew that Derrek was not going to be good enough for you. You were a med student, top of your class during your undergrad. And he was just some guy. So uninteresting in Robby’s eyes, he didn’t know his major or care to remember his name. Robby can do a way better job, but he never really admits that to himself. Usually too busy with his roster full of other girls pawing their way to the top to even consider why he thought he would be a better choice for you. 

“So what— his dick too small? Or he’s a minute man?” Robby asks, another nudge with his elbow, egging you on for more. He is one of the nosiest men you know. But that’s because it was so easy to get the words flowing from you. So trusting of Robby you have no fear in telling him every detail.

“He lasts as long as he can! He kind of sounds cringey? When we have sex. I don’t know, hearing him grunt was not as hot as I thought it would be. He sounds like a pig. But any time we have sex, it’s just that. Not that exciting or freaky… It’s so vanilla.”

And there came the flood gates. Weeks of sexual frustration coming out in the form of broken words. Airing out everything to Robby. From how vanilla sex had been feeling, to how your boyfriend refuses to acknowledge foreplay as an important part of sex.

Just as Robby hypothesized; Derrek is fucking boring. He knew that from the very beginning. Hence, why he knew nothing about him, and didn’t care to know anything about him. And with this new information, he wanted to laugh harder than he should. Tease and rub it in your face that he knew all along that this guy was not right for you. To ditch him, find someone more in tune with your needs and intelligence. 

But Robby is a good friend, he wasn’t going to rub it in your face. At least not tonight, maybe tomorrow after a lecture. It hurt just seeing his best friend not get treated the way she deserves. He brings a comforting hand to your knee, rubbing his thumb over the fabric of your jeans.

“I just don’t know what to do! I don’t want to have to teach him how to have good sex. And it feels like it’s been so long since I’ve had good sex that I don’t even know what good sex looks like!” You whine. 

“What exactly are you missing?”

It felt shameful to admit, shallow. Admitting that you felt entitled to something more than a kiss and fuck.

“Well he doesn’t… he doesn’t do any of the things I want to do…” It’s too late to look sheepish in front of Robby. You were so willing to tell him about your bedroom troubles. He motioned you to keep going, more detail. Robby never liked vague details.

“He’s never eaten me out… or ever really does it the way I like too.” You get quieter with each word, shrinking into yourself. What a humiliation ritual, admitting to yourself and your friend how unsatisfied you have become in your relationship.

“And how exactly do you like it?” he pried, really interrogating you this evening.

“Like, toss me around or something! Pull my hair, I don't care!” Begging and pleading to the room. And Robby heard you loud and clear. 

“Poor girl, you really do have it the worst don’t you?” he said with a taunting frown.

“God, why did I even come to talk to you? What would you know…” 

A deep chuckle erupts from his throat again. Relishing how easy it is for Robby to push your buttons. You enjoy it though, enjoy that Robby doesn’t try to put up a nice guy act. He can meet you at your level and try to bait you into giving it back to him. 

“I’ll have you know I am a very generous person in bed. Always make sure the girl I’m with gets a chance to meet the finish line too.”

You narrow your eyes, mind whirling around how hard you found it to believe in his own words. Robby has always had a reputation of trying to sleep with any pretty thing that walked on two legs. You even had the misfortune of walking in on him and his fling of the week once or twice. He was known to sleep around. So, your mind wanted to fill in the blanks by thinking he was selfish in bed. Who can blame him? Robby was handsome and knew how to use his words well. As much as you want to be Michael Robinavitch’s number one hater, you heard the subtle whispers of girls talking about what he could actually do in bed. You refused to believe it, you know the real Robby.

“Really? Michael Robinavitch, the man that can’t seem to commit to one person for more than a month, has enough care in his heart to treat a girl right in bed?”

“Yeah, I’m wounded that you don’t believe me.”

“Because you’re full of shit.”

“Nope. If I was your boyfriend, you’d be creaming around my cock every night.” The way he said it so casually. Like it was just another passing thought in his mind. Talking to you like it would have no effect on you. It did have an effect on you, a big one. Widening your eyes in bewilderment, how could he just say that to you? Out of the blue?

You were put into fawn mode. Fingers freezing in an invisible grip, heat rising up your neck and flooding into the plush skin of your cheeks. Warm air catches in your throat, fighting with the urge to say anything back to him. The words are lost on you, he got you right under his thumb. Trapping you in a corner where you simply can’t move on from what he said. His forwardness and confidence gave your heart a little skip. As close as the two of you were, the topic of sex was never a hot one. Maybe a jab about being up too late because of sex. But this was new territory for you. 

“Yeah right… Ha ha very funny.” At this time of night, you weren’t really in a joking mood. Especially jokes at the expense of your own pleasure, which you had been seeking out for so long. 

“I’m not joking. If you’d let me, I’d show you a good time.” Robby’s hand that was once a comfort on your knee, slowly slid down to your thigh. His fingertips felt more of your warmth as they slipped to find comfort between your thighs. He managed to stay a respectful distance from your core, but close enough to make you aware of Robby’s growing intentions. Hooking his hold around your thigh, giving you a firm squeeze on your thigh. Your body instinctively pressed your thighs together.

“Stop Robby that tickles. Your room is so fucking dirty, you really need to clean it…” You were quick to try and change the subject. 

Robby was leaning in closer, eyes connecting with yours once again. His warm breath fanned against your face. A part of you was screaming inside to pull away, this is turning into a weird direction. You have a somewhat, semi-serious boyfriend. You pride yourself on loyalty. But that little devil on your shoulder was more convincing. Just hear him out. See what he has to offer. He’s your best friend, why wouldn’t he be telling you the truth? 

“You know I wouldn't lie to you sweetheart. Cross my heart.” His voice dropped to that boyish tone he would use to sway your opinion. A cute smile and a little sparkle in his eyes. Like a god damn puppy that was begging you to take them home. 

And before you could think further, his free hand reaches for yours, intertwining fingers. His large hand envelops yours as he pulls it to his lips. Goosebumps spread over your skin as warm lips press against soft skin. Traveling from the top of your hand, to the bottom of your wrist. A tender type of kiss you weren’t completely used to, especially from Robby. It powered down your defenses, tense shoulders relaxing. You were deprived of this kind of sweet intimacy, weakened by a need for more than the standard. Your eyes followed his movements, kissing your skin and petting at your thigh. Robby started leaning in closer, maneuvering his body to wedge himself between your thighs. Lips traveling up your arm, skipping to your neck. It sparked the long lost warmth in between your thighs that you haven’t properly felt in a long time. 

“Robby… we— I shouldn’t…” You stifle a mewl as he nips at the skin of your neck. “This isn’t right… ‘m with Derrek.” But your body betrayed your words. Softening underneath him as he slowly kissed up to your burning cheek. 

“I won’t tell, I know you won’t… just wanna show you what feeling good really feels like. It’s for science. ‘S that ok baby?” His voice is ringing in your head. Squeezing your eyes shut to try and rationalize it. “It’s not really cheating.”

For science, please. It’s so wrong, so so so so wrong. You crossed the line of cheating when he kissed your hand. Derrek has been nothing but good to you.But you’re buzzing with excitement. A slick forming in your panties that you were sure if Robby found, he wouldn’t let you live it down.

Robby hovered his lips above yours, a sliver of space between you. The slightest movement will close the gap, seal the deal of your betrayal. The logical side of your brain is telling you to stop and shake your head. Run away to your dorm and act like none of this ever happened. 

“Talk to me sweetheart. Do you want me to make you feel good?”

“Yes Robby… please…” 

Who gives a fuck, you’re a girl with needs. And Robby is offering to help you meet those needs. 

With no time to waste, Robby’s lips seal onto yours. Licking himself into your mouth, teeth scraping together as his tongue swipes over yours. The lingering taste of coffee and toothpaste trickling onto your tongue. It was delicious, more than you should like. Tasting Robby’s day on his tongue. Nervous hands reaching up to Robby’s stomach, feeling his body through the boundary of a loose cotton t-shirt he used for sleeping. You can feel Robby smiling into your kisses, amused how you were so in tune with him already. He pulled away briefly, making you whine softly as he pulled the shirt from over his head. 

You have seen Robby shirtless countless of other times. This setting should be nothing new, but it was daunting on your mind. His knees perched between your legs, forcing you to stay spread open for him. A growing bulge in Robby’s sweatpants rutted against the fabric. Physical proof he wanted this just as much. You didn’t know you wanted it too, more so you felt your body pulling you in Robby’s direction. Taking you further and further away from Derrek. 

Robby brought his lips back to yours, licking at the seam, pushing his tongue past your lips to take its place against your tongue. Your mind growing a fog you don’t realize he plucked the button of your jeans, pulling the garment down past your knees and over your ankles. An unforgiving wet spot forming on your cotton panties. The cute white ones with pink lace on the waistband. 

“It’s like you knew this was going to happen didn’t you? Wearing cute panties for me.” He teased, tickling his fingertips on your navel. Threatening to go lower and lower. 

“It’s not for you Robby.”

“Yeah, but I bet I appreciate it more than he does, right?”

Your silence was a good enough answer for him. Looping his fingers under the hem of fabric and pulling it down slowly. Robby watches intently as it glides against your smooth skin. Like nothing, the panties disappear behind him, into the void with your jeans. Robby lets a deep, content sigh escape his lips. Sitting back on his heels as he takes in the sight of your drooling pussy.  Priding himself on how easily he made you a dripping mess. His hand caresses the nook of your thigh, traveling up to feel the warmth above your pussy. Robby pressed his thumb against your aching clit. A firm press, before beginning slow circles. Using your slick as a lubricant to easily glide the pad of his thumb around your clit. 

The muscles of your legs tighten and shake all at the same time. It's as if he was using your clit as a joystick, stirring your body to be at his mercy. With a swift motion, Robby’s free hand pokes two fingers at the slit of your cunt. You gasp, finally moving your eyes to watch as he slides the long digits between your folds. Silent squelching as his thick fingers rub against velvety walls. Struggling to hold in a moan, pathetic whines fails you. 

“Does that feel good baby? When I rub your clit and finger your soaking pussy.” It was vulgar the way he was describing it to you. Forcing you to picture it every way you can. You want to shake your head no, just to prove him wrong and remind yourself your boyfriend will always have your heart. But you’re not a liar. It felt good, amazing even. The most you’ve felt in a very long time. 

“I think she’s enjoying it very much.” Robby answers for you. Easing the pace on your pussy, curling his fingers up against that particular spot with each thrust of his hand. “Pussy is practically crying for me. I think she wants more… What about you honey… Do you want more?”

Never in the months that you have been dating Derrek, had he ever asked if you wanted more. Watching as Robby toys with your heat, you nod your head slowly. Eyes never moving from his movements to not miss what he does to you for a beat. His smile widens, perking his cheeks up. Robby is eating up seeing you unraveling for him in a way he thought he would never have the pleasure of seeing one day. 

He dips his head down, a quick swipe of his tongue up against your slit. Collecting your wetness on his tongue. You groaned and rolled your head back. Robby filled the gap between your clit and finger-stuffed slit by sucking his lips against the free space. Overloading your senses, feeling all of Robby against your pussy. Using everything he could possibly have, with the exception of his dick. He tasted the tart fluid in his mouth, humming into your flesh with satisfaction. Not too sweet, but not sour at all. The right taste that spurred him on to eat more of you. Robby gave his thumb a rest, replacing it with this mouth. Sucking on the bud and rolling his tongue against it. 

It felt like hours he had been ravishing at your sex, dizzying your head and eliciting mindless moans and cries from you. Music to his ears, sounds that he knew your boyfriend never heard genuinely. It will be etched in his brain for the rest of his waking life. Shaking knees coming to a halt when Robby finally pulls away, wiping your arousal away from his chin with the back of his hand. It was over too soon for you. He got you so close to the brink, why was he pulling away now. Bringing yourself to your elbows, huffing as he pauses.

It was rewiring his brain, staring at your soaked cunt. He remembered how it pulsed around his fingers during each movement. He swooped in to save you from Derrek at the right time.

“That good, huh baby? We can go two ways; I keep sucking on your sweet girl and make you cum on just my tongue, or make you cream around my cock. Just like how I promised.” he proposed, leaning himself back in to loom over you. His hands started at your thighs, pushing up to your stomach, slipping under the top you had left on.

Any reasonable girl that loved their boyfriend would realize how wrong this was and stop it. You should have stopped it a long time ago. You were a broken record in your own head; screaming at yourself to finish this and go back to Derrek. Admit defeat and learn to love the sex you had. It’s a shame, everyone has their vices, and this was becoming yours. 

“Don’t break your promise to me now, Robby.” 

He smiles smugly, tugging his sweatpants away and letting them fall off the bed. No boxers, nothing to give you a moment to adjust the sight of him. Long cock bobbing in the air, rosy tip that had the smallest drip of precum. What a whore, of course he doesn’t wear underwear to bed. Robby was consistent in proving your own prophecies wrong. He was much more well endowed than Derrek had been. You pull your top over your head, reaching around to unclip and slip your bra away from your body. In all your naked glory, Robby celebrated in his head. Plush curves and supple skin, how could your boyfriend fail in giving your body the best is deserved?

Robby pumps his cock a few times, inching closer to line himself up with your slit. When his tip finally prodded your folds, it made a sickeningly wet sound. Coating his tip in all of your built up sin. He reveled in the feeling of your pussy on his cock. Rolling his head back as he sunk deeper and deeper. Hips pressing into yours, the most skin contact the two of you have ever made outside of cuddling. The depths that his cock was able to reach pulled out a noise you didn’t know you could make. Raw and hungry, mewling as he stretched you out to a new size. You braced yourself by grabbing on to his forearm. Pressing your eyes shut to see the white stars in your vision. 

Robby started to roll his hips into yours, pulling his cock out half way then burying himself back to the hilt. His well tamed bush tickles your skin. He grabbed under your thighs, splitting you out and open. A deep stretch in your hip joint as he gave himself a better angle to thrust into.

“Fuck! Fuck fuck fuck… Robby!” you try to keep your cries hushed, not wanting to rudely wake up anyone else on the form floor. 

The lustful sounds of skin slapping on skin as he deepens his stroke and quickens his pace. It echoed in your ears and pushed away any thought of your boyfriend. Large hand grabbing at your chin, squishing cheeks to get a good grip to guide your face up from the bed. 

“Open your eyes baby, you wanted this, why aren’t you watching?” A comforting stroke of his thumb as your eyes obediently open. 

Looking down to watch, the base of his cock disappears inside your pussy as he drags himself out and pushes back in. It was intoxicating, forcing yourself with the realization that this is what you were asking for. Begging the universe to give you one night of good sex. You held yourself up, eyes flicking from his face to your weeping cunt. It mirrored Robby, who was savoring the way you bit on your lip to stifle every little noise that came out of you. 

“Say it..” He managed to say between his own grunts and moans.

“S-Say what…”

“That I’m better.”

Smug mother fucker. He can’t just enjoy the moment and let you feel good. He has to keep rubbing it in that you’re willingly cheating on your boyfriend with your best friend. His thumb presses down on your clit, quick to make smooth circles around the needy bud again. Like pressing a button to get the words to come out of you. The sensations that brewed in your core were more than you were used to handling.

“Shit! Robby… you’re better!” 

He leans in close, the hand that was holding your face grabbing a fistfull of hair and giving it a taut tug. The mild pain on your scalp went straight to your core, walls squeezing down around him. A dark chuckle erupting from his throat.

“Better at what, dirty girl?”

He was stirring the pot with his words, berating and shaming you. You liked— loved it. Making you get off on your unfaithfulness. Another tug with his hand, the pressure of his thumb on your clit getting harder.

“You’re better at fucking me! You’re so much better Robby.”

“That’s my girl.” He praised. 

That long lost knot inside you grew tighter and tighter. Toes curling as he thrusted into you like he was on a mission. As that knot snaps, you finally come around his cock, that deep loss of dissatisfaction is no more. It’s fireworks in your core, writhing in his hold as he fuck you through your orgasm. He kisses your bare shoulders and necks, whispering praises into your ears as he chases his own high. 

“Such a good girl… Being a slut for me and letting me show you how good you can feel…”

His grip on your hair and thigh tighten, the edges of his fingernails sure to leave a mark later down the line. Rutting his hips into yours as his thrusts become uneven. Robby catches his release. Spurts of warm liquid flood your insides, painting your walls with his load. You couldn’t have cared less that he didn’t use a condom. It was worth it to experience the cloud you were floating on called bliss. Derrek is finally an afterthought. The shortlasting euphoria was worth it. Even though, when you lie awake tonight, you’ll remember what you have done.

Robby pulled himself away, a trail of your juices mixed together and coating his cock. A dripple of cum starting to leak from your slit. Catching his breath, he slides himself next to you, running his arm under your neck to pull you in close. A soft kiss on your forehead. For how wrong he was for making you cheat, he still made you feel good about it in some ways. Knowing he would be ready to comfort you in any way you’d ask when you eventually dump your boyfriend.

“So… what did we learn today?” he asks.

“It’s way better when you do it.”

a/n pt2: hello taglist i have not used in a long time LMAO

taglist: @kaylapfarr @xoxabs88xox @ilocuras24 @thisisjustmyface @cathrinexxxv @thisisjustmyface @starwberry11 @cosmosnkaz @tamzyn-xx @killora1708 @teenwolfbitches28 @midnitewaves @67-angelofthelordme-67  join my taglist!

[entallica]

Never thought about med student!robby until now & BOY DO I LOVE IT 😚😚

[entallica]

LOOK AFTER YOU

Dr. Micheal "Robby" Robinavitch x fem!wife!reader

Synopsis: Robby hates to see his wife feel bad about herself. (comfort & fluff) based on this request

Content: reader & robby are married, no use of y/n, pet names (sweetheart, beautiful, sweet girl, baby), soft Robby!!!, insecurity, brief mention of body image (body type not specified), robby is the best at comforting his lovely lady

WC: ~1.5k

A/N: I love soft robby & I need him to hold me immediately.

the pitt masterlist

Now Playing: Look after you - The Fray

──────────────────────

You could feel your chest tighten as you navigated your way through the bustling emergency department of the Pitt.

The accumulation of moisture in your eyes began to blur your vision as your throat tightened in compensation for not letting your tears fall just yet, trying to avoid the eyes of concerned coworkers throughout the long hallway.

You swung open the door that led to an empty stairwell, immediately taking a seat on one of the steps and letting your head fall into your hands, finally allowing your tears to pour freely and loosen the pressure in your throat.

Though your shift was merely halfway done, you felt as though you had been in the throes of the Pitt's typical chaos for far too long.

It was only a matter of time before someone came looking for you.

You knew that.

But you just couldn't stand to be surrounded by your coworkers anymore.

Not when it felt like every move you made took up too much space and every laugh you let out used too much air.

In the hallway of the ED, Robby seemed to notice your absence almost immediately.

"Hey Langdon, you seen my wife anywhere?" He asked Frank, who was rushing around, seemingly in the middle of something.

"No, sorry man, she came through here a little while ago though." He said, immediately splitting off to whatever important task was awaiting him.

Robby sighed and ran a hand through his hair before Mel spoke up from where she was sitting and completing charts, "I think I saw her go over there." She pointed a finger towards the end of the hallway with a soft smile.

Robby knew that your choice of isolation could only mean one thing, "Shit, okay. Thanks, King." He said with a sigh, rushing in your direction.

The door swung open in a clamor behind you, causing your head to immediately whip around to the sound, disregarding your own current state.

"Jesus, Robby. You scared me." You said, placing a hand on your chest in an attempt to control your startled heartbeat.

"Sorry, sweetheart. Just wanted to make sure you were in here." He sighed, finally allowing his body to loosen up as he took a seat next to you on the step.

It was only then that you remembered the tears staining your cheeks, so you turned your face away from your worried husband in embarrassment.

"Hey, no, don't do that." He said, placing a hand under your chin and turning your face towards his, "What's goin' on, beautiful?"

You felt your face heat up at his words, though you were unable to form your own due to your ever-growing unease.

"It's nothing." You said bashfully, letting your eyes wander anywhere but his own.

"It's definitely not nothing." He replied sternly.

You knew that you couldn't hide from Robby for long. You never could. He always found a way to soothe you even in your worst diffidence.

And so you told him everything.

You rambled on about how you felt like your scrubs didn't fit right and how every word you said felt misplaced. You told him about the way everyone's glance seemed to follow you around all day, and how your brain felt like a conglomeration of every negative word ever muttered in your general direction.

Your voice broke with sobs between nearly every word and all Robby did was listen with his eyebrows furrowed together, lightly nodding at every new discomfort you described.

Eventually, you took a long, shaky breath and finished with, "So today just really sucked."

To you, he looked sad about how upset you were, as any loving husband would be.

But to Robby, he felt the pang of his heart breaking into a million pieces as he listened to you speak so negatively about yourself.

He didn't understand how such a beautiful, smart woman could ever feel so unwelcome in a place that would not be half of what it was without her.

And worst of all, he didn't know how to put it into words to make you change your mind.

But in true Micheal Robinavitch fashion, he did his best.

Before he managed to say anything, he firmly wrapped his arms around your torso and pulled you into him.

Your face found its place buried in his neck, while his arms wrapped tightly around you and for the first time all day, everything seemed to quiet.

Neither of you spoke for a long period of time.

He sat there with his arms caged protectively around you, as your salty tears slowly dried on your cheeks, but not before leaving a few damp spots on the sweater Robby wore over his scrubs.

As you sat in his arms, you allowed your mind to drift from your woes. You took deep breaths into Robby’s neck, smelling his cologne and feeling his hands spread across your back.

Once you gained your composure, you lightly pulled away from Robby to look at his face.

“I'm so sorry, my sweet girl.” He said slowly, tucking a piece of hair behind your ear.

There were very few people who had the privilege to witness Robby taking time to slow down. Between his job keeping him on his toes and his driven personality, he seemed to never take a breath.

However, whenever he was with you, he seemed to find time to let the rigidity go.

"It's okay. I just wish I could y'know... be invisible sometimes."

His lips pulled into a frown as he nodded in understanding.

Taking your hands in his own, he let out a sigh and looked down at his fingers wrapped around your own. "I just want you to know that I love you, okay?"

"I know."

"And I always will." He looked back into your eyes.

"I know."

He nodded and leaned in to press a firm kiss against your forehead.

“You never have to hide from me, sweetheart.”

Then another kiss to your cheek.

“You’re so beautiful.”

Then your other cheek.

“And I’m so lucky that you’re my gorgeous girl.”

And finally, your lips.

For the first time since you left the house that morning, you felt covered.

Not hidden, not secret.

But secure.

It didn't matter whether you were already drowning or not, because Robby would always be there to build a roof below the rain and hold you through the storm.

His mouth melded to yours, warm and fervent, as you breathed him in and allowed him to occupy all of the space in your lungs.

You didn't pull away until you felt him take a shaky breath against your lips. As you opened your eyes to see him, you noticed the slight shift in his demeanor.

"Are you okay?" You questioned in concern.

"I'm so fucking proud of you, baby." He stated without a second thought, his gruff voice gently breaking in admiration.

You let out a quiet "Oh?" at the explanation... or lack thereof.

Then he lent back into you.

And you let it all wash away onto his lips.

Though the storm was insistent, Robby was your home and you knew he always would be.

No matter how often you felt that your beams were unstable, he would always be there; sturdy, devoted, and yours.

When you pulled away again, you rested your forehead against his and he let out a deep breath he didn’t know he was holding.

You could hear the commotion coming from inside the ED, but you both chose to ignore it for one moment longer.

“I know you don’t feel like it, but you are so beautiful. And so worthy. Of everything.” He said, his forehead still pressed against your own.

“Thank you, baby.” You responded.

“I mean it, okay?”

“Okay.” You gave in.

It was then that a bang on the doorway broke the two of you apart.

“Hey uh, Dr. Robby now would be a great time to get in here.” Said a panicked Whitaker, peeking in through the cracked door in caution of interrupting.

Robby groaned and stroked a hand through his beard, “Yeah, yeah, alright.”

Once Whitaker closed the door, he leaned in to press another kiss to your lips.

“Don’t you ever feel like you need to hide from me. No matter what it is.” He said sternly.

“Okay.” You said and he gave a firm nod, before standing up and reaching his hand out to you.

Once he pulled you up, he went to open the door.

“Wait!” You said before he turned the handle.

He raised an eyebrow in confusion but it quickly faded as you wrapped your arms around him one more time, breathing him in.

He let his hand fall into your hair, cradling your head against his chest.

“Are you ready?” He said, referring to the rest of the shift that awaited you outside of the stairwell.

“I think so.” You said into his chest, and he placed a kiss on your head as he pulled away and opened the door.

[robbyscoffee]

this is literally the cutest thing, and i absolutely adore the fray. such a sweet treat to read, m literally kicking my feet 🫂

my favorite parts below the cut! ♡

You rambled on about how you felt like your scrubs didn't fit right and how every word you said felt misplaced. You told him about the way everyone's glance seemed to follow you around all day, and how your brain felt like a conglomeration of every negative word ever muttered in your general direction.

He didn't understand how such a beautiful, smart woman could ever feel so unwelcome in a place that would not be half of what it was without her.

No matter how often you felt that your beams were unstable, he would always be there; sturdy, devoted, and yours.

[entallica]

AHH TYSM LOVELY 💕 I loveeee the fray as well, they have some of the best inspo songs ever 😚

[entallica]

LOOK AFTER YOU

Dr. Micheal "Robby" Robinavitch x fem!wife!reader

Synopsis: Robby hates to see his wife feel bad about herself. (comfort & fluff) based on this request

Content: reader & robby are married, no use of y/n, pet names (sweetheart, beautiful, sweet girl, baby), soft Robby!!!, insecurity, brief mention of body image (body type not specified), robby is the best at comforting his lovely lady

WC: ~1.5k

A/N: I love soft robby & I need him to hold me immediately.

the pitt masterlist

Now Playing: Look after you - The Fray

──────────────────────

You could feel your chest tighten as you navigated your way through the bustling emergency department of the Pitt.

The accumulation of moisture in your eyes began to blur your vision as your throat tightened in compensation for not letting your tears fall just yet, trying to avoid the eyes of concerned coworkers throughout the long hallway.

You swung open the door that led to an empty stairwell, immediately taking a seat on one of the steps and letting your head fall into your hands, finally allowing your tears to pour freely and loosen the pressure in your throat.

Though your shift was merely halfway done, you felt as though you had been in the throes of the Pitt's typical chaos for far too long.

It was only a matter of time before someone came looking for you.

You knew that.

But you just couldn't stand to be surrounded by your coworkers anymore.

Not when it felt like every move you made took up too much space and every laugh you let out used too much air.

In the hallway of the ED, Robby seemed to notice your absence almost immediately.

"Hey Langdon, you seen my wife anywhere?" He asked Frank, who was rushing around, seemingly in the middle of something.

"No, sorry man, she came through here a little while ago though." He said, immediately splitting off to whatever important task was awaiting him.

Robby sighed and ran a hand through his hair before Mel spoke up from where she was sitting and completing charts, "I think I saw her go over there." She pointed a finger towards the end of the hallway with a soft smile.

Robby knew that your choice of isolation could only mean one thing, "Shit, okay. Thanks, King." He said with a sigh, rushing in your direction.

The door swung open in a clamor behind you, causing your head to immediately whip around to the sound, disregarding your own current state.

"Jesus, Robby. You scared me." You said, placing a hand on your chest in an attempt to control your startled heartbeat.

"Sorry, sweetheart. Just wanted to make sure you were in here." He sighed, finally allowing his body to loosen up as he took a seat next to you on the step.

It was only then that you remembered the tears staining your cheeks, so you turned your face away from your worried husband in embarrassment.

"Hey, no, don't do that." He said, placing a hand under your chin and turning your face towards his, "What's goin' on, beautiful?"

You felt your face heat up at his words, though you were unable to form your own due to your ever-growing unease.

"It's nothing." You said bashfully, letting your eyes wander anywhere but his own.

"It's definitely not nothing." He replied sternly.

You knew that you couldn't hide from Robby for long. You never could. He always found a way to soothe you even in your worst diffidence.

And so you told him everything.

You rambled on about how you felt like your scrubs didn't fit right and how every word you said felt misplaced. You told him about the way everyone's glance seemed to follow you around all day, and how your brain felt like a conglomeration of every negative word ever muttered in your general direction.

Your voice broke with sobs between nearly every word and all Robby did was listen with his eyebrows furrowed together, lightly nodding at every new discomfort you described.

Eventually, you took a long, shaky breath and finished with, "So today just really sucked."

To you, he looked sad about how upset you were, as any loving husband would be.

But to Robby, he felt the pang of his heart breaking into a million pieces as he listened to you speak so negatively about yourself.

He didn't understand how such a beautiful, smart woman could ever feel so unwelcome in a place that would not be half of what it was without her.

And worst of all, he didn't know how to put it into words to make you change your mind.

But in true Micheal Robinavitch fashion, he did his best.

Before he managed to say anything, he firmly wrapped his arms around your torso and pulled you into him.

Your face found its place buried in his neck, while his arms wrapped tightly around you and for the first time all day, everything seemed to quiet.

Neither of you spoke for a long period of time.

He sat there with his arms caged protectively around you, as your salty tears slowly dried on your cheeks, but not before leaving a few damp spots on the sweater Robby wore over his scrubs.

As you sat in his arms, you allowed your mind to drift from your woes. You took deep breaths into Robby’s neck, smelling his cologne and feeling his hands spread across your back.

Once you gained your composure, you lightly pulled away from Robby to look at his face.

“I'm so sorry, my sweet girl.” He said slowly, tucking a piece of hair behind your ear.

There were very few people who had the privilege to witness Robby taking time to slow down. Between his job keeping him on his toes and his driven personality, he seemed to never take a breath.

However, whenever he was with you, he seemed to find time to let the rigidity go.

"It's okay. I just wish I could y'know... be invisible sometimes."

His lips pulled into a frown as he nodded in understanding.

Taking your hands in his own, he let out a sigh and looked down at his fingers wrapped around your own. "I just want you to know that I love you, okay?"

"I know."

"And I always will." He looked back into your eyes.

"I know."

He nodded and leaned in to press a firm kiss against your forehead.

“You never have to hide from me, sweetheart.”

Then another kiss to your cheek.

“You’re so beautiful.”

Then your other cheek.

“And I’m so lucky that you’re my gorgeous girl.”

And finally, your lips.

For the first time since you left the house that morning, you felt covered.

Not hidden, not secret.

But secure.

It didn't matter whether you were already drowning or not, because Robby would always be there to build a roof below the rain and hold you through the storm.

His mouth melded to yours, warm and fervent, as you breathed him in and allowed him to occupy all of the space in your lungs.

You didn't pull away until you felt him take a shaky breath against your lips. As you opened your eyes to see him, you noticed the slight shift in his demeanor.

"Are you okay?" You questioned in concern.

"I'm so fucking proud of you, baby." He stated without a second thought, his gruff voice gently breaking in admiration.

You let out a quiet "Oh?" at the explanation... or lack thereof.

Then he lent back into you.

And you let it all wash away onto his lips.

Though the storm was insistent, Robby was your home and you knew he always would be.

No matter how often you felt that your beams were unstable, he would always be there; sturdy, devoted, and yours.

When you pulled away again, you rested your forehead against his and he let out a deep breath he didn’t know he was holding.

You could hear the commotion coming from inside the ED, but you both chose to ignore it for one moment longer.

“I know you don’t feel like it, but you are so beautiful. And so worthy. Of everything.” He said, his forehead still pressed against your own.

“Thank you, baby.” You responded.

“I mean it, okay?”

“Okay.” You gave in.

It was then that a bang on the doorway broke the two of you apart.

“Hey uh, Dr. Robby now would be a great time to get in here.” Said a panicked Whitaker, peeking in through the cracked door in caution of interrupting.

Robby groaned and stroked a hand through his beard, “Yeah, yeah, alright.”

Once Whitaker closed the door, he leaned in to press another kiss to your lips.

“Don’t you ever feel like you need to hide from me. No matter what it is.” He said sternly.

“Okay.” You said and he gave a firm nod, before standing up and reaching his hand out to you.

Once he pulled you up, he went to open the door.

“Wait!” You said before he turned the handle.

He raised an eyebrow in confusion but it quickly faded as you wrapped your arms around him one more time, breathing him in.

He let his hand fall into your hair, cradling your head against his chest.

“Are you ready?” He said, referring to the rest of the shift that awaited you outside of the stairwell.

“I think so.” You said into his chest, and he placed a kiss on your head as he pulled away and opened the door.

[mariasont]

You rambled on about how you felt like your scrubs didn't fit right and how every word you said felt misplaced. You told him about the way everyone's glance seemed to follow you around all day, and how your brain felt like a conglomeration of every negative word ever muttered in your general direction.

He didn't understand how such a beautiful, smart woman could ever feel so unwelcome in a place that would not be half of what it was without her.

oh! didn’t know i was going to cry on this fine evening! reader w this specific breed of anxiety i see you soooo clearly & u are soooo important to me 🤍🤍🤍🤍

[entallica]

oh my gosh the queen herself liked my fic 🥹🥹 thank you sm maria ily & your work!! 💕

[puppiegracie]

nosiest duo ever in the world

[entallica]

Tell me who’s ur housekeeper????? What you keep in that HOUSE!?? What in the WORLD is in that ROOM???!!What you got in that ROOM!?!?!

[entallica]

LOOK AFTER YOU

Dr. Micheal "Robby" Robinavitch x fem!wife!reader

Synopsis: Robby hates to see his wife feel bad about herself. (comfort & fluff) based on this request

Content: reader & robby are married, no use of y/n, pet names (sweetheart, beautiful, sweet girl, baby), soft Robby!!!, insecurity, brief mention of body image (body type not specified), robby is the best at comforting his lovely lady

WC: ~1.5k

A/N: I love soft robby & I need him to hold me immediately.

the pitt masterlist

Now Playing: Look after you - The Fray

──────────────────────

You could feel your chest tighten as you navigated your way through the bustling emergency department of the Pitt.

The accumulation of moisture in your eyes began to blur your vision as your throat tightened in compensation for not letting your tears fall just yet, trying to avoid the eyes of concerned coworkers throughout the long hallway.

You swung open the door that led to an empty stairwell, immediately taking a seat on one of the steps and letting your head fall into your hands, finally allowing your tears to pour freely and loosen the pressure in your throat.

Though your shift was merely halfway done, you felt as though you had been in the throes of the Pitt's typical chaos for far too long.

It was only a matter of time before someone came looking for you.

You knew that.

But you just couldn't stand to be surrounded by your coworkers anymore.

Not when it felt like every move you made took up too much space and every laugh you let out used too much air.

In the hallway of the ED, Robby seemed to notice your absence almost immediately.

"Hey Langdon, you seen my wife anywhere?" He asked Frank, who was rushing around, seemingly in the middle of something.

"No, sorry man, she came through here a little while ago though." He said, immediately splitting off to whatever important task was awaiting him.

Robby sighed and ran a hand through his hair before Mel spoke up from where she was sitting and completing charts, "I think I saw her go over there." She pointed a finger towards the end of the hallway with a soft smile.

Robby knew that your choice of isolation could only mean one thing, "Shit, okay. Thanks, King." He said with a sigh, rushing in your direction.

The door swung open in a clamor behind you, causing your head to immediately whip around to the sound, disregarding your own current state.

"Jesus, Robby. You scared me." You said, placing a hand on your chest in an attempt to control your startled heartbeat.

"Sorry, sweetheart. Just wanted to make sure you were in here." He sighed, finally allowing his body to loosen up as he took a seat next to you on the step.

It was only then that you remembered the tears staining your cheeks, so you turned your face away from your worried husband in embarrassment.

"Hey, no, don't do that." He said, placing a hand under your chin and turning your face towards his, "What's goin' on, beautiful?"

You felt your face heat up at his words, though you were unable to form your own due to your ever-growing unease.

"It's nothing." You said bashfully, letting your eyes wander anywhere but his own.

"It's definitely not nothing." He replied sternly.

You knew that you couldn't hide from Robby for long. You never could. He always found a way to soothe you even in your worst diffidence.

And so you told him everything.

You rambled on about how you felt like your scrubs didn't fit right and how every word you said felt misplaced. You told him about the way everyone's glance seemed to follow you around all day, and how your brain felt like a conglomeration of every negative word ever muttered in your general direction.

Your voice broke with sobs between nearly every word and all Robby did was listen with his eyebrows furrowed together, lightly nodding at every new discomfort you described.

Eventually, you took a long, shaky breath and finished with, "So today just really sucked."

To you, he looked sad about how upset you were, as any loving husband would be.

But to Robby, he felt the pang of his heart breaking into a million pieces as he listened to you speak so negatively about yourself.

He didn't understand how such a beautiful, smart woman could ever feel so unwelcome in a place that would not be half of what it was without her.

And worst of all, he didn't know how to put it into words to make you change your mind.

But in true Micheal Robinavitch fashion, he did his best.

Before he managed to say anything, he firmly wrapped his arms around your torso and pulled you into him.

Your face found its place buried in his neck, while his arms wrapped tightly around you and for the first time all day, everything seemed to quiet.

Neither of you spoke for a long period of time.

He sat there with his arms caged protectively around you, as your salty tears slowly dried on your cheeks, but not before leaving a few damp spots on the sweater Robby wore over his scrubs.

As you sat in his arms, you allowed your mind to drift from your woes. You took deep breaths into Robby’s neck, smelling his cologne and feeling his hands spread across your back.

Once you gained your composure, you lightly pulled away from Robby to look at his face.

“I'm so sorry, my sweet girl.” He said slowly, tucking a piece of hair behind your ear.

There were very few people who had the privilege to witness Robby taking time to slow down. Between his job keeping him on his toes and his driven personality, he seemed to never take a breath.

However, whenever he was with you, he seemed to find time to let the rigidity go.

"It's okay. I just wish I could y'know... be invisible sometimes."

His lips pulled into a frown as he nodded in understanding.

Taking your hands in his own, he let out a sigh and looked down at his fingers wrapped around your own. "I just want you to know that I love you, okay?"

"I know."

"And I always will." He looked back into your eyes.

"I know."

He nodded and leaned in to press a firm kiss against your forehead.

“You never have to hide from me, sweetheart.”

Then another kiss to your cheek.

“You’re so beautiful.”

Then your other cheek.

“And I’m so lucky that you’re my gorgeous girl.”

And finally, your lips.

For the first time since you left the house that morning, you felt covered.

Not hidden, not secret.

But secure.

It didn't matter whether you were already drowning or not, because Robby would always be there to build a roof below the rain and hold you through the storm.

His mouth melded to yours, warm and fervent, as you breathed him in and allowed him to occupy all of the space in your lungs.

You didn't pull away until you felt him take a shaky breath against your lips. As you opened your eyes to see him, you noticed the slight shift in his demeanor.

"Are you okay?" You questioned in concern.

"I'm so fucking proud of you, baby." He stated without a second thought, his gruff voice gently breaking in admiration.

You let out a quiet "Oh?" at the explanation... or lack thereof.

Then he lent back into you.

And you let it all wash away onto his lips.

Though the storm was insistent, Robby was your home and you knew he always would be.

No matter how often you felt that your beams were unstable, he would always be there; sturdy, devoted, and yours.

When you pulled away again, you rested your forehead against his and he let out a deep breath he didn’t know he was holding.

You could hear the commotion coming from inside the ED, but you both chose to ignore it for one moment longer.

“I know you don’t feel like it, but you are so beautiful. And so worthy. Of everything.” He said, his forehead still pressed against your own.

“Thank you, baby.” You responded.

“I mean it, okay?”

“Okay.” You gave in.

It was then that a bang on the doorway broke the two of you apart.

“Hey uh, Dr. Robby now would be a great time to get in here.” Said a panicked Whitaker, peeking in through the cracked door in caution of interrupting.

Robby groaned and stroked a hand through his beard, “Yeah, yeah, alright.”

Once Whitaker closed the door, he leaned in to press another kiss to your lips.

“Don’t you ever feel like you need to hide from me. No matter what it is.” He said sternly.

“Okay.” You said and he gave a firm nod, before standing up and reaching his hand out to you.

Once he pulled you up, he went to open the door.

“Wait!” You said before he turned the handle.

He raised an eyebrow in confusion but it quickly faded as you wrapped your arms around him one more time, breathing him in.

He let his hand fall into your hair, cradling your head against his chest.

“Are you ready?” He said, referring to the rest of the shift that awaited you outside of the stairwell.

“I think so.” You said into his chest, and he placed a kiss on your head as he pulled away and opened the door.

[entallica]

Yay new Robby fic!!

Thank you anon for the request

hope you enjoy, my lovelies!!

[unusualhysteria]

[entallica]

LOOK AFTER YOU

Dr. Micheal "Robby" Robinavitch x fem!wife!reader

Synopsis: Robby hates to see his wife feel bad about herself. (comfort & fluff) based on this request

Content: reader & robby are married, no use of y/n, pet names (sweetheart, beautiful, sweet girl, baby), soft Robby!!!, insecurity, brief mention of body image (body type not specified), robby is the best at comforting his lovely lady

WC: ~1.5k

A/N: I love soft robby & I need him to hold me immediately.

the pitt masterlist

Now Playing: Look after you - The Fray

──────────────────────

You could feel your chest tighten as you navigated your way through the bustling emergency department of the Pitt.

The accumulation of moisture in your eyes began to blur your vision as your throat tightened in compensation for not letting your tears fall just yet, trying to avoid the eyes of concerned coworkers throughout the long hallway.

You swung open the door that led to an empty stairwell, immediately taking a seat on one of the steps and letting your head fall into your hands, finally allowing your tears to pour freely and loosen the pressure in your throat.

Though your shift was merely halfway done, you felt as though you had been in the throes of the Pitt's typical chaos for far too long.

It was only a matter of time before someone came looking for you.

You knew that.

But you just couldn't stand to be surrounded by your coworkers anymore.

Not when it felt like every move you made took up too much space and every laugh you let out used too much air.

In the hallway of the ED, Robby seemed to notice your absence almost immediately.

"Hey Langdon, you seen my wife anywhere?" He asked Frank, who was rushing around, seemingly in the middle of something.

"No, sorry man, she came through here a little while ago though." He said, immediately splitting off to whatever important task was awaiting him.

Robby sighed and ran a hand through his hair before Mel spoke up from where she was sitting and completing charts, "I think I saw her go over there." She pointed a finger towards the end of the hallway with a soft smile.

Robby knew that your choice of isolation could only mean one thing, "Shit, okay. Thanks, King." He said with a sigh, rushing in your direction.

The door swung open in a clamor behind you, causing your head to immediately whip around to the sound, disregarding your own current state.

"Jesus, Robby. You scared me." You said, placing a hand on your chest in an attempt to control your startled heartbeat.

"Sorry, sweetheart. Just wanted to make sure you were in here." He sighed, finally allowing his body to loosen up as he took a seat next to you on the step.

It was only then that you remembered the tears staining your cheeks, so you turned your face away from your worried husband in embarrassment.

"Hey, no, don't do that." He said, placing a hand under your chin and turning your face towards his, "What's goin' on, beautiful?"

You felt your face heat up at his words, though you were unable to form your own due to your ever-growing unease.

"It's nothing." You said bashfully, letting your eyes wander anywhere but his own.

"It's definitely not nothing." He replied sternly.

You knew that you couldn't hide from Robby for long. You never could. He always found a way to soothe you even in your worst diffidence.

And so you told him everything.

You rambled on about how you felt like your scrubs didn't fit right and how every word you said felt misplaced. You told him about the way everyone's glance seemed to follow you around all day, and how your brain felt like a conglomeration of every negative word ever muttered in your general direction.

Your voice broke with sobs between nearly every word and all Robby did was listen with his eyebrows furrowed together, lightly nodding at every new discomfort you described.

Eventually, you took a long, shaky breath and finished with, "So today just really sucked."

To you, he looked sad about how upset you were, as any loving husband would be.

But to Robby, he felt the pang of his heart breaking into a million pieces as he listened to you speak so negatively about yourself.

He didn't understand how such a beautiful, smart woman could ever feel so unwelcome in a place that would not be half of what it was without her.

And worst of all, he didn't know how to put it into words to make you change your mind.

But in true Micheal Robinavitch fashion, he did his best.

Before he managed to say anything, he firmly wrapped his arms around your torso and pulled you into him.

Your face found its place buried in his neck, while his arms wrapped tightly around you and for the first time all day, everything seemed to quiet.

Neither of you spoke for a long period of time.

He sat there with his arms caged protectively around you, as your salty tears slowly dried on your cheeks, but not before leaving a few damp spots on the sweater Robby wore over his scrubs.

As you sat in his arms, you allowed your mind to drift from your woes. You took deep breaths into Robby’s neck, smelling his cologne and feeling his hands spread across your back.

Once you gained your composure, you lightly pulled away from Robby to look at his face.

“I'm so sorry, my sweet girl.” He said slowly, tucking a piece of hair behind your ear.

There were very few people who had the privilege to witness Robby taking time to slow down. Between his job keeping him on his toes and his driven personality, he seemed to never take a breath.

However, whenever he was with you, he seemed to find time to let the rigidity go.

"It's okay. I just wish I could y'know... be invisible sometimes."

His lips pulled into a frown as he nodded in understanding.

Taking your hands in his own, he let out a sigh and looked down at his fingers wrapped around your own. "I just want you to know that I love you, okay?"

"I know."

"And I always will." He looked back into your eyes.

"I know."

He nodded and leaned in to press a firm kiss against your forehead.

“You never have to hide from me, sweetheart.”

Then another kiss to your cheek.

“You’re so beautiful.”

Then your other cheek.

“And I’m so lucky that you’re my gorgeous girl.”

And finally, your lips.

For the first time since you left the house that morning, you felt covered.

Not hidden, not secret.

But secure.

It didn't matter whether you were already drowning or not, because Robby would always be there to build a roof below the rain and hold you through the storm.

His mouth melded to yours, warm and fervent, as you breathed him in and allowed him to occupy all of the space in your lungs.

You didn't pull away until you felt him take a shaky breath against your lips. As you opened your eyes to see him, you noticed the slight shift in his demeanor.

"Are you okay?" You questioned in concern.

"I'm so fucking proud of you, baby." He stated without a second thought, his gruff voice gently breaking in admiration.

You let out a quiet "Oh?" at the explanation... or lack thereof.

Then he lent back into you.

And you let it all wash away onto his lips.

Though the storm was insistent, Robby was your home and you knew he always would be.

No matter how often you felt that your beams were unstable, he would always be there; sturdy, devoted, and yours.

When you pulled away again, you rested your forehead against his and he let out a deep breath he didn’t know he was holding.

You could hear the commotion coming from inside the ED, but you both chose to ignore it for one moment longer.

“I know you don’t feel like it, but you are so beautiful. And so worthy. Of everything.” He said, his forehead still pressed against your own.

“Thank you, baby.” You responded.

“I mean it, okay?”

“Okay.” You gave in.

It was then that a bang on the doorway broke the two of you apart.

“Hey uh, Dr. Robby now would be a great time to get in here.” Said a panicked Whitaker, peeking in through the cracked door in caution of interrupting.

Robby groaned and stroked a hand through his beard, “Yeah, yeah, alright.”

Once Whitaker closed the door, he leaned in to press another kiss to your lips.

“Don’t you ever feel like you need to hide from me. No matter what it is.” He said sternly.

“Okay.” You said and he gave a firm nod, before standing up and reaching his hand out to you.

Once he pulled you up, he went to open the door.

“Wait!” You said before he turned the handle.

He raised an eyebrow in confusion but it quickly faded as you wrapped your arms around him one more time, breathing him in.

He let his hand fall into your hair, cradling your head against his chest.

“Are you ready?” He said, referring to the rest of the shift that awaited you outside of the stairwell.

“I think so.” You said into his chest, and he placed a kiss on your head as he pulled away and opened the door.

[entallica]

Omg you guys tysm for all the love on my most recent fic 🥹

I’ve got some goods cooking in the drafts & I can’t to share them with you all! <3

[yournamesnob]

off the deep end

Pairing: single dad!Brendon Park x nanny!reader

Word count: 8.3k

CW: explicit sexual content, nsfw, 18+, mdni

Tags/warnings: f!reader, age gap (reader is 24, Brendon is mid-late 30s), inappropriate boss/employee relationship, high key perv!brendon, daddy kink, masturbation (m and f), fingering, hand job, angst, car crash, injury, comfort, fight/confessing feelings, dry humping, lil somno, oral (f receiving), protected piv sex

Summary: Your dynamic with Brendon is easy, comfortable, until one night everything changes and you're forced to deal with your feelings for each other.

a/n: something to get me out of this writing slump dear god

Disclaimer: YOU DO NOT HAVE PERMISSION TO REPOST MY WRITING ANYWHERE ELSE WITHOUT MY CONSENT. REBLOGS ARE ENCOURAGED THOUGH. YOU MAY NOT FEED MY WORK TO ANY AI DATABASES OF ANY KIND, USE MY WORKS TO TRAIN AI OR USE AI TO TRANSLATE MY WORK. FUCK AI.

"Daddy!"

The shrill of childish excitement lights up the surgery department in an instant, eyes and ears cutting through the sterile floor towards the sound, eager for a reaction from someone, anyone.

It's even more satisfying when Brendon Park, the Shark of orthopedics, stops mid sentence, turning swiftly to the sound, his blank expression curling into a gentle smile as he bends down to pick up the three year old in his gigantic arms.

"What're you doing here, guppy?" he teases. Brendon Park jokes, and glances get thrown between residents, interns and nurses alike.

Ah gossip, the great equalizer.

"Wanted to see you."

The little girl manhandles him, pulling and squeezing his cheeks like he's not a great white but rather a pliable flounder, reducing him to nothing more than a sucker for his kid.

"Oh yeah, where's—?"

"Jesus trouble, how do you run so fast?"

The way Brendon Park lights up for the second time practically blinds everyone. Oh this is definitely making the rumor mill rounds today. So long boring ten hour surgery to come.

"I didn't run!" the child huffs. "I ski...skiddered."

"Skipped?" Brendon looks to you for confirmation.

You roll your eyes at her antics, nodding your head towards her father, gracing him with a smile that makes everyone understand exactly why their big, mean, scary boss is acting the way he is.

The floor returns to its normal shuffle after that, one more second of inaction and the Shark would've definitely snapped.

"Hey," Brendon greets you, a little reserved, definitely surgical in nature.

"Hey Mr. Park," you beam and he instantly stills.

"How many times do I have to tell you," he starts to chide. "At least call me doctor Park."

You sigh out a laugh at that, rolling your eyes playfully as you instinctively step closer. He can smell the faint sweetness of your perfume, the spilled apple sauce on your shirt, the hint of laundry detergent on your fingers.

"I'm glad we caught you," you tell him. "We didn't know if you'd started on time today."

"Just about to go in."

You nod, clinical, like you're absorbing information and processing how you're going to get out of his hair in the next twenty seconds.

"Gotcha, well, you got what you wanted trouble," you hum, moving to grab the child in his arms.

She knows what's coming and so she throws herself onto her dad, tiny hands fisting the purple scrubs, cheek pressed tightly over his chest.

"No! I wanna stay with daddy."

Brendon opens his mouth to speak, to defuse the situation before the guilt eats him alive. But you're no sucker, unlike him.

"Really?" you frown. "You wanna stay with your daddy while he does his surgery instead of going to the park to get ice cream with me?"

In all honesty, he stopped listening to you the second the word daddy left your lips. He's certain his kid can feel his heart beating uncomfortably fast, rattling against this ribcage and threatening to burst out of his chest.

All he registers is the toddler flinging herself out of his loose embrace, almost face planting against the sterile floors and practically buzzing with excitement.

"Brendon?" you turn to him, smile turning into a frown quickly.

He springs back into reality when your hand lands over his forearm, light and grounding, like an anchor he didn't know he needed.

"Yeah, yeah," he responds, pretends, shifts out of your touch like he's already late for something that isn't even remotely time for. "I'll see you for dinner, okay guppy?"

But she doesn't care anymore.

"Okay! Bye dad."

Instead, she grabs your hand, demanding and pushy, and pulls you down the hall.

"Bye doctor Park," you tease. "See you later."

And just like that, calm and cold return to the surgery department, and Brendon Park snaps back into the sharpness that defines him.

It's late by the time he makes it home.

Too late, too tired, too...everything.

He sneaks into his own home like a teenager, light steps, a soft touch as he turns the key, even takes off his shoes by the door before he even makes it into the house.

It's not the first time either, not gonna be the last.

He shouldn't feel bad, this is what he pays you the big bucks for at the end of the day.

It's when he peeks into his daughter's room, catching the two of you snuggled together in her tiny bed, butterfly printed comforter covering her and not you, a book forgotten, Mr. Stuffles the rabbit on the floor that it hits him.

Hard.

He'd been miserable that first year after his girlfriend left him. They'd been planning a wedding, the baby being just another blessing in the string of goodness that they had been experiencing.

At least it had been to him.

It took her a year to leave, to finally crack under the pressure and run away. He didn't know how to be a dad alone, much less navigate co-parenting with the woman who had torn his heart out of his chest with her bare hands.

If it hadn't been for his mother, sisters and brothers, Brendon would not have made it through it.

But even they could only get him so far. He needed to go back to work, needed to find something to keep him going, needed...help. Professional help.

And that's when he'd found you.

Frank Langdon's occasional babysitter, full time student looking for a summer job while you got yourself situated for your master's program.

The little guppy was two at that point and Brendon simply couldn't be there for her all the time. So he poached you away from the ED doctor.

To say the dynamic had started out a little toxic would be...an understatement.

Once Brendon returned to the OR with full force, he fell hard into it, into the love and thrill and control that he could exert over his patients, his work, his process.

All the control he'd lost, the scared man that he had become—frantic and powerless—disappeared the second he got back in those scrubs.

And so did the loving and caring father that had put his kid first.

You ripped him a new one about eight days after first meeting him, a night like this, one where he came back home buzzing from a procedure well done, pupils dilated and ego through the roof.

She was young enough to not remember then, but she was definitely old enough to hold onto broken promises now, and that is what tugged at his heartstrings.

Now, tea parties and recitals were just as, if not more important than getting to do a risky procedure no one at PTMC had done before.

Of course, this time around he'd texted, let you know there had been a complication with the surgery. The shaky intern typing out the message practically stopped breathing every time Brendon asked him to erase everything and start from scratch.

They all thought it was cute how he wanted it to be perfect and gentle for his daughter, but the truth is, he needed it to be for you.

Brendon steps into the room softly, bending down to pick up the stuffy and placing it in between his kid's arms before he closes the picture book and sets it on the nightstand.

Neither of you startle at the movement, the soft glow from the salt lamp casting shadows that you knew were never meant to harm you.

It's only when Brendon places a hand over your shoulder, squeezing gently that you blink awake.

"Hi," you whisper, barely turning back to look at him.

"Hi," he smiles softly. "Are you comfy?"

You scoff out a laugh, soft enough not to wake up the kid but loud enough to make his smile grow twice the size.

"Let's get you to bed then," he places a hand under your neck then, pushing you up by supporting your back with his forearm while you tangle your hands around his other arm and pulling yourself into a sitting position.

Certain you're awake enough not to topple over, he leans over you and places a kiss to his kid's temple, watching her nose scrunch ever so slightly before settling back into comfortable sleep.

You smirk at his antics, using his body as leverage to get up to your feet, hands clumsily digging into the muscles of his back.

He groans lightly, old man that he is, and quickly retaliates, holding onto you so that you'll hoist him up with you.

"So heavy," you joke, straining to keep the two of you upright.

Brendon shrugs. "Just full of love."

"Booo," you chuckle, making your way out of her room, Brendon's hands over your shoulders to steady you. "There's leftovers in the microwave if you want them."

He hums in acknowledgment, letting you go as you make it out to the hallway.

"Eat, then shower?" he asks you.

"I'll take advantage then."

He nods. "Yours is still busted?"

"Yeah, guy said earliest he could come is next week."

"Damn plumbers."

"Indeed."

He stares at you for a long second after the conversation settles.

He's...comfortable. Too comfortable with you.

The past year has been a whirlwind. One summer quickly turning into you deferring your master's program so you could finish out the year with them. Then one semester turned into two, into you moving in, into...this.

Don't get him wrong, Brendon knows where the two of you stand. It's not necessarily healthy, but it's innocent, it's professional, it's...just a pathetic crush, nothing more. A fantasy he'll never allow himself to indulge in.

And yet, he cannot stop himself every time his eyes fall on your lips, the plumpness calling to him, beckoning him forward, demanding attention, truth.

"Goodnight then," he manages, rough and exhausted, desperate yet...not enough. Never enough.

You smile dopily at him. "Goodnight Brendon."

It's his own fault really, he should've knocked. But it's his house for fuck's sake, why should he?

So that's how he gets a complete eyeful of you taking a shower the next morning.

He got a late start which meant making breakfast, taking his guppy to school and then going to the gym, all before nine.

Unfortunately for him, earbuds in, distracted as all hell, he completely misses all the warning signs, the closed door, the steam, your clothes on the floor, the music blaring from the speaker.

He's certain he's dead and this is both heaven and hell simultaneously when he finally dares to look up and—

Jesus fucking Christ.

He should look away, he needs to look away...but he physically can't, his hungry gaze taking in every inch of skin visible through the condensation of the glass shower.

If only he would've reacted a second earlier...

You turn in slow motion, your reaction catching up late. You yelp, hands coming up to wrap around your chest, only aiding in pushing your boobs up further.

He instantly snaps into action, blush taking over every inch of his face and neck as he curses out a long string of apologies, blood pumping through his heart and his...yeah, he needs to get the fuck out of there.

"I'm sorry, so sorry," he stumbles out of the bathroom ungracefully, fast enough that he doesn't catch your own reaction, the way your chest constricts, the way your legs rub together.

Brendon manages to hurriedly hide in the kitchen, heart hammering against his ribcage, eyes wide and mind absolutely running a million miles an hour.

He needs to forget he ever saw that, needs to erase it from his brain...but his stupid erection won't let him.

The tent in his pants becomes painful the second he gives it attention, the flimsy material of his work out shorts just not helping his case at all. He needs to take care of this, needs to stop being such a weirdo before you come out.

So he rushes into your bathroom, locks the door like a sane human being does, and pulls himself out of his boxers methodically.

This isn't pleasurable, no, not at all, never. This is necessity. Emotionless, cold and surgical. He spits on his hand, wrapping it around himself without much preamble, thinking of nothing, searching for only one thing, release.

But he looks down at himself and his brain betrays him.

Imagine her on her knees.

"Fuck no."

How beautiful does she look, skin wet, hair stuck to her neck, eyes wide, mouth open?

"Shut the fuck up."

Her mouth would be so hot, come on, Brendon, give into her—

"Go away."

And yet he groans, the mere thought of you knowing what he's doing two doors away, the way you pushed up your chest, the need to paint it—paint you—white with his spend—

He's biting down on his other hand quickly after as he cums loudly, making sure to aim for the toilet while does.

You're no longer in the shower when he comes back out, your movements confined to your room. He doesn't have the courage to seek you out, so instead he just showers in silence.

The two of you don't interact at all before he's making his way into work.

You left his food prepped on the dining room table, disappearing out of the house the second you did to run some errands.

The tinge of shame and embarrassment linger deep in his bones all throughout the day, following him around like an unwanted shadow.

How would he even start to apologize? You have to talk about it, there's just no other way around it, but...how could he ever tell you it was a mistake when a part of him wanted nothing more than for it to happen again—to get a better look?

Since he made it to work late, he leaves even later. As he makes his way into his home, the same stillness from the night before greets him, only this time, it's heavy, like a breath that's been held in too long.

He goes through his routine quietly, dropping his bag by the door, checking in on his kid before walking down the hallway towards his bedroom.

But before he can make it, something catches his attention.

A breath. A gasp. A moan.

He freezes in front of your closed door, body going rigid with goosebumps, head turning almost robotically as his senses sharpen.

Your light is still on, peeking through the bottom slit of the door. Not uncommon, you like staying up to wait for him before you go to sleep.

No, what catches his attention is the distant...humming.

He steps forward, tentatively pressing his ear to the wood. It's not just a humming, it's vibrations, soft and steady.

Another shaky breath escapes you, louder than you would've liked, and you readjust the toy.

A shiver passes through Brendon as realization hits.

His cock twitches painfully against his underwear. Fuck this cannot be happening right now.

His head falls against your door, stabilizing, grounding. He can't, he will not—

Another moan from you. You're close.

Whatever resolve Brendon has snaps as he pulls himself out of his pants, hot, heavy and leaking.

"Jesus fucking Christ," he whispers as he takes himself into his hand. He begins to pump quickly, the pace excruciating and borderline painful, but he doesn't care, he needs to—

"Brendon," you huff, a breathy moan curling around his name. "Please I'm—Motherfucker!" you curse through gritted teeth, the vibrations stopping abruptly.

Brendon's heart does a leap in his chest.

Oh my god.

He can feel how frustrated you are, can hear how you shift uncomfortably over your sheets, can practically taste how wet you are as you toss the toy with a thump on the mattress next to you.

And Brendon doesn't think. Can't think, can't process a logical thought to save his life as he lifts his unoccupied hand and—

Knocks.

Says your name in that soft, saccharine voice of his that he uses when his child is throwing a tantrum.

Oh how he wishes he could see your face pale in horror at the knowledge of your boss being on the other side of the door.

"Are you okay?" he keeps poking.

You swallow thickly, shame mixing with terror.

"Mhmm."

"Can I come in?"

A broken sound leaves your chest, unprompted and definitely surprising you just as much as it does him.

"Um...no?"

He says your name again, stern and fatherly. He hears you moving around frantically, hiding all evidence of what you were just doing.

"Okay."

"Okay." A Cheshire smile curls at his lips, a thrill of satisfaction coursing through him as he tucks himself into his pants, the outline of his still rock hard dick on full display.

It's now or never.

He opens the door. You never seem to lock it, fucking adorable.

He has to physically hold himself back from pouncing on you as his eyes land on your heated cheeks, on your slightly tussled hair, on how you're gripping your comforter to save your life.

He shoots you a calming smile, boyish and embarrassed, as he steps into your room and closes the door behind him. Locking it.

He hears you gulp loudly as you notice his final movement.

"How was your day?" you barely manage to ask, your throat hoarse, your breathing broken.

He settles down on the bed by your feet, close enough to make your heart beat out of your throat, far away enough that he won't overwhelm you entirely.

"Good, good," he sighs, one hand tentatively inching closer and closer to you. "Lot of injuries today."

"I bet."

He smirks, a huff of a laugh cutting through the tension in the room.

"Listen—" he starts, looking up at you before continuing. You choke on your own breath, body becoming a statue with shame. "I'm sorry, I should've realized you were in the shower. It was very inappropriate of me and it will not happen again."

You let out a shaky breath, settling into the false sense of security, choosing to believe that he definitely did not hear you...yeah.

Brendon has to bite the inside of his cheek to stop from grinning like an idiot. God, you're just so adorable.

You nod, shifting forward, closer to him. "It's okay, I know you didn't do it on purpose. It was just...weird I guess."

You laugh, awkwardly, because what a silly predicament the two of you have found yourselves in, clearly.

Brendon doesn't follow your lead, not at all. He just keeps watching you, eyes darkening as he leans into you as well, his hand finally coming up to grab ahold of your foot over the comforter.

He squeezes enough to punctuate the moment, the tension, the heat. Your gaze snaps towards his hand, towards him, towards—

Your eyes widen without your consent as they land on his crotch, on the straining in his scrubs, on his still practically throbbing erection.

"Brendon," you exhale, confusion and desire blending together excruciatingly.

He shivers over you, his grip tightening on you.

"Don't," he warns. "Don't start something you won't finish, sweetheart."

Your gaze meets his then. He looks like a caged animal, practically vibrating as he holds himself back.

Emboldened by your lust, by the pent up frustration left coiling in your lower stomach, you get up on your knees, letting the comforter fall around your waist, the slightest sliver of skin peeking through.

"Oh I intend to finish it," you whisper.

"Unlike your vibrator?"

That breaks the spell quickly, heat rushing up to your face, neck, back instantly.

"Oh my god, Brendon!" you smack his arm, falling back down on your heels.

He smiles dopily, his hand sliding up your thigh as your brain processes all this new information. Distracted, you don't even notice when he slides beneath the fabric. It's only when the backs of his fingers graze your dripping folds that your breathing hitches.

"Fuck, sweetheart," he groans. "You're so wet."

You whimper at the feather light contact, hips bucking towards his touch.

"Please," you're no longer thinking, finally. "I need...make me cum, Bren."

The smirk that adorns his face then, all self-righteous and proud, only gets you wetter.

"Is this what you need, baby?" he leans in, breath hot against your ear as he presses a kiss just below it. "Needed my fingers to get yourself to cum?"

You moan, hands coming up to grab a hold of him, nails digging into the toughness of his arms.

In response, Brendon presses his thumb over your clit, slowly moving the pad in torturous circles. You pull him closer, opening your legs so that he has better access.

"Tell me what you need," he commands. "Tell daddy how to make you feel good."

Oh your head is spinning. A tear falls down your cheek, frustration rocking you out of control.

"Need your fingers," you pant.

He grins against your skin. "You already have 'em."

You whine, patience wearing thin. Who would've ever thought, his good girl, so demanding.

"In me, please," you choke, swallowing the drool that has gathered in your mouth before continuing. "Please daddy."

It breaks him, his ring and middle finger thrusting into you in one swift movement as his thumb picks up the pace.

You instantly hide your face agains the crook of his neck, your breathy moan muffled against him as he hooks his fingers into you, curling them over and over again against you until your legs are shaking beneath him.

"That's it, baby, such a good girl for me."

You shiver against him, melting against his warmth.

"Help daddy out, baby, wanna—" he groans. "Wanna cum with you."

He slows down his movements, keeping you right on the edge between putty and alert.

You nod against him, timid hands grazing down his torso towards his pants. The second your hand slides under his waistband, a hiss escapes him, causing a shiver of praise to boost your ego.

You manage to pull him out, long and thick and hot and heavy against your palm, you can't help but salivate at the sight. You let your drool drip down on him, his hips jerking as the wetness lands over his sensitive tip.

You giggle, overly amused by his reactions, emboldened by how easy it is to tame the Shark with just a simple swipe of your hand over his leaking head.

"Fucking hell, baby," he groans, picking up his own pace in retaliation.

You pull back to look at him then, gazes locking in silent competition.

He looks completely disheveled, broken and almost...reverent. Gratification blooms in your stomach, your hand pumping his length in tandem with his own fingers inside of you, the pace causing the two of you to slowly start to unravel together.

Your mouth hangs open in a silent moan as your body clenches around him, so close to the edge, so, so, so perfect—

"Daddy," you warn. "I'm gonna—"

He grunts, grabbing your hand and pulling it back up to his tip, urging you to focus your efforts there.

It takes him no time to catch up to you, his own body tensing in anticipation.

"C'mon baby," he implores. "Let go for me, cum with me."

A choked moan ripples through you as the coil snaps. Your legs quake, your vision blurs from pleasure, your hand stills over him as you feel his own release take over.

It's overwhelming to say the least, his hot moans heavy in your ear, his spend spurting onto your hand, painting his scrubs and your delicate skin, his warmth...oh my god he's so everywhere.

You can't think straight. Can't breathe right. Can't—

You groan as he removes his hand from inside of you, wetness running down your inner thighs as he does. Pleasure clouds your brain as you watch him bring his hand up to his mouth, his tongue lapping up your release, humming contently at the sweet taste.

Hunger flares in your belly as you do the same, lifting your hand up towards your mouth and sucking down on the spot covered by his cum.

You can feel the moan that ripples through him, his body tensing up with lust once more as he watches you.

"Fuck sweetheart, who would've thought..." he smirks, leaning down to smash his lips with your own, mouth desperately seeking to combine your tastes into one sloppy, searing kiss.

You oblige instantly, opening up for him to take whatever he pleases.

He pushes you down onto the mattress, his imposing body slotting itself perfectly in between your open thighs.

He's about to join you on the bed when you break the kiss.

"Outside clothes," you grumble, sleepy and spent.

It tugs at his heartstrings, his mouth curling into a loving smile as he strips down to his boxers before slipping back into bed with you, pulling your body to nestle snugly against his.

"I'm sorry, baby," he kisses your temple, watching you settle into sleep beside him, completely oblivious to how he licks and cleans your skin before finally allowing himself to succumb to the darkness.

You're woken up by laughter.

Soft and airy, like a gust of wind rustling outside your window.

Your curtains are still drawn, only slivers of light peeking through into your room, the warmth from outside starting to become overwhelming as you toss the comforter aside.

You sit up with a start, memories from the night before crashing through you like a downpour.

You almost, almost could've pretended it had all been a dream. Almost, if not for the stickiness lingering between your thighs, for the Brendon sized dip in your mattress that he left behind.

It's impossible not to feel his lingering presence in your bed, the way the sheets molded to accommodate him, the way his woodsy scent mixed with hospital antiseptic lingers on the cotton.

Fuck!

You're so close to spiraling, to having your chest cave in from the pressure of guilt, but then you hear it again.

That laugh, like a tug, a spark, a lifeline.

School, you're supposed to up to help with drop-off today.

You're quick to dress, pulling on your sleep shorts, hastily forgoing underwear because you simply aren't thinking straight.

It's late, too late to be thinking instead of moving.

You burst into the kitchen, ready to hastily put together breakfast and Brendon's lunch when—

"Noooooo!" the toddler screams at you from her high chair. "Go back!”

You frown at her, moving slowly around the kitchen island to catch her dad, sweatpants low on his hips, topless for added effect, just finishing up at the stove.

Behind him, a plate with a mountain of pancakes, and beside it, a tray, decked out with cut fruit, a cup of coffee, scrambled eggs, bacon, even a cup with a little flower from the backyard.

He must see the flurry of emotions taking a hold of you, so he softens instantly.

"Morning," he steps forward slightly. "We were just coming to surprise you."

Your gaze snaps up to his, searching, panicked, overwhelmed and then...grateful.

Your cheeks heat up softly, not instantly, not rushed, just comfortable, safe, loved.

"I'm sorry bug," you lean over and plant a kiss on her head, unruly curls frizzy from sleep. "But now we can have breakfast together, yeah?"

She sighs, dramatically, before she turns to you, arms high up so that you'll pick her up.

You roll your eyes, obviously doing exactly what the princess wants.

You're about to walk out into the living room when you turn back to Brendon, the expression you manage to catch across his features just barely shy of adoration.

You've done this plenty of times before but it's never felt this...domestic. And you can't help how your stomach twists, how your heart blooms—you like this.

Breakfast continues on in that same way. Stolen glances, confusing feelings and an overly energetic toddler that get maple syrup over everything, especially her hair.

One rushed bath time later, you're putting her hair up into ponytail braids, her request, when his imposing frame slides up to lean against his daughter's open door, purple scrubs hugging his body deliciously.

"Ready to go, guppy?"

The kid nods, bashful, as she takes in the little hair clips in her hair, the beads from her ponytails.

"You look beautiful, trouble," you kiss her cheek and she responds by throwing herself around you, a hug so tight it melts you right into her.

"Thank you!"

"You're so welcome."

When she finally lets you go and runs towards her dad, you catch his stare through the mirror. It's...everything. Stormy, bright, hopeful, sorrowful, angry, pleading, you can't look away.

Later, he mouths. We'll talk.

You nod, shooting him a timid smile before he's being dragged out of the house.

Your brain is fuzzy for the next half hour, your movements slow and sluggish.

You focus on tidying up around the house, going through routine out of muscle memory. Cause the truth is, your mind is far away, stuck on the night before, on his lips, his fingers, his hot breath—

Jesus fuck you have got to get it together.

The postman comes through at the perfect time, envelopes snapping you out of inaction. You sort through them absentmindedly still—energy bill, invitation to the annual hospital gala, ortho research magazine, University of Pittsburg—

Your name.

His address.

Your heart constricts, your throat tightens.

Shaky fingers tear through the sticky adhesive, almost tearing the letter within its confines.

Rabid eyes scan the corporate jargon.

Final notice. Unable to push back start date another semester. Confirm attendance or forfeit spot. And then, a deadline.

Sink or swim.

Reality pounding at the door of your carefully crafted fantasy.

It all crumbles instantly.

You've grown attached, complacent, lost yourself as you found a new place, comfortable, easy, simple. You love your life, you love how easy it is to not have to think, to just do, to soak up the joy and the tantrums and the late nights and...

Him.

He's your fucking boss for crying out loud! He can't...he doesn't...you live in his house, you eat his food, you take care of his kid.

How can you take his money and be with him romantically?

You're taking advantage of him, this is so wrong, how could you ever do that to him? To them? To yourself?

But if you leave...if you leave you lose everything you've grown attached to, everything that makes up who you are now, everything—everyone—you love.

This isn't fair. This isn't how it's supposed to go. How could you have been so stupid to—

Your phone blares, a reminder alarm goes off, effectively cutting off your spiraling but only making you even more panicked.

You're late for pick up.

You don't remember much, just that you're driving a little more on edge than you usually are. The lunch traffic is easing down, luckily, but it's just a reminder that you're late.

The school calls, you tell them you're on your way.

He texts, you ignore it.

The green light turns red after you cross—

And it all goes dark.

You're so out of it that your name doesn't sound real.

There's overlapping voices, bright lights, too many hands touching your sweaty skin.

You try to push them off, try to close your eyes for them to be pulled open, try to complain but your throat is so dry nothing remotely close to words spill out.

You know where you are before the nurses have a chance to ease your discomfort.

You can't be here. Nope, not here, bad place to be cause he's here.

You try to get up the second they transfer you into a bed, even manage to sit before Langdon's hands are pulling you back down against the pillow.

"No, nope, none of that," he chides.

"Frank—" your voice sounds so broken it scares you.

"You're okay, let us take care of you," he stares deep into your eyes, his baby blues reminding you of the exact person you're desperate to avoid. "Please."

Before you can continue protesting, they drug you. Yeah, not their finest moment, not yours either. Lorazepam, just enough to calm you down, to finish their exam.

You're lucid, you think, just...softer. It's only then that your body comes back to you, the weight of your bones, the exhaustion in your muscles.

You don't complain again, only answer questions when they're asked.

You're fast tracked to CT, nothing abnormal though you definitely have a concussion. Your body is littered with little cuts and bruises from impact, apparently a motorcyclist who decided to accelerate to sixty without thinking twice. He's being treated at Westbridge so you'll know more later.

Now...now you're just a guilty, crying mess, injuries wrapped, IV almost done, waiting for an ortho consult because everyone in the ED knows you.

But he's not here yet.

It's been hours and he hasn't shown his face.

Logically, you know why.

He had to go pick her up when you didn't know. He had to call out of work because you weren't reliable, he had to—

The curtain is drawn and a child's voice says your name.

You can't help but burst into tears again, desperately trying to hide away, to brace yourself for the impact that follows her around.

But it only makes her more afraid, more distressed, and it breaks your heart.

With your eyes shut, tears streaking down your face, you don't see him, but you hear him.

Hear how he steps into the room, how he refrains from speaking your name, how he pulls the curtain closed again, how he picks up his kid and settles down on the stool beside your bed.

And then you feel tiny, cold hands press over your cheeks, gently poking at you until you break, calling out your name over and over and over until he says it.

Low and soft, pleading.

You open your eyes, a fresh waterfall dripping onto her fingers, causing her to recoil adorably.

"Yucky," she shivers, wiping your tears on her father's shirt.

That gets a laugh out of you.

"There she is," Brendon's voice is heavy, like the emotional weight has solidified into his body and is crushing over his chest.

You finally look up at him then, relinquishing your fears and staring directly into the place you know is both salvation and ruin.

"Well hello baby shark," Dana's signature snark breaks the moment. "Y'wanna come with me and let the boring grownups talk? I got apple sauce and crayons."

Wow she's so easy to lure away it's a wonder she's still in one piece. Well...who wouldn't be, with a dad like that and a nanny who would kill anyone that even thought about breathing near her with wrong intentions.

She winks at you and shoots a stern look at Brendon before leaving the two of you alone.

He doesn't even let the room settle before he's pouncing, lips on yours simply to prove to himself that you're alive, that you're breathing, that you're still here.

You can't stop crying, can't stop shaking, can't—

He shushes you gently, warm hands cupping your cheeks and wiping away the wetness as it falls.

You choke out a half-hearted laugh. "Not yucky?"

He smiles against your mouth, kissing you one last time before he pulls back to look at you.

"I was so worried," the confession is a mere whisper but it hangs thick in the room, suspended in a web of all the things you've both left unsaid. "When Dana called—" he chokes on a breath. "Fuck, sweetheart I almost—I couldn't think, couldn't breathe, I was resetting someone's fucking shoulder and..." he chuckles at the memory. "Almost made it worse."

"The great Brendon Park, almost ruined by one phone call," you try to joke, try to lighten the mood but...it's impossible. The way he stares at you, his gaze searing, his hands holding onto you as if he's afraid if he lets go you'll disappear—"Brendon."

"I know," he murmurs. "I'm sorry, we should've—I should've—"

You shake your head as much as the concussion will allow, your hands coming up to lace with his own.

"It's my fault," you sob. "I wasn't thinking—I...I got scared."

His brow furrows but he doesn't prod, doesn't force you to speak. He just waits, patiently, like you've seen him do plenty times before with a snotty, emotionally confused toddler.

So you take a steadying breath, grab his hand tighter, and tell him everything. The letter, your panic attack, your uncertainty, your fears, your...hopefulness.

It doesn't matter that your brain doesn't feel comfortable baring your soul to him, your heart does. With each word, the clutches of doubt and panic ease off, your grip lightening until you're unashamedly fiddling with his fingers, tracing lazy patterns over his skin like he...like he belongs to you.

He sits with your confession for a while, a few seconds turning into a few minutes but he doesn't pull away, doesn't make you feel unwanted. So you don't panic either, you just trace his nails with your fingers over and over and over agains until—

He lifts your hand up to his mouth and places a soft kiss onto your knuckles.

"What do you wanna do, baby?"

Baby, like it's simple. Baby, like it's normal. Baby, like you're his.

You search his eyes for malice, for a truth that you desperately need to push on him so that you can focus on a broken heart and not the overwhelming reality of choice, of making it work.

But all you find is patience, kindness, openness.

Fucking girl dad ortho bros that are emotionally intelligent—they're the worst.

You sigh, honest and raw. "I don't know. I just don't want to lose you."

He hums in understanding, rolling closer to the bed.

"I don't want to lose you either," he states, unflinching. "We can take this however you need, you can still live with us, you can..."

He trails off as he notices the hesitancy in your eyes.

"You don't want that?"

He doesn't say it maliciously, but it still sucker punches you all the same.

"I don't know...what about trouble? She's young but she's not stupid. I don't...I don't want her to think that I'm...that I don't love her because it's not the same—"

"She's a smart kid, she'll understand," he's too quick to catch your lie. "Now if you're afraid of things changing..." he catches your guilt flash through your eyes. "Then that's okay. We can go slow. We don't have to figure it all out right now."

You nod, accepting the easy way out.

One step at a time.

You can live with that.

Recovery is...boring as all hell.

The motorcycle guy lived, your insurance companies settled out of court, nothing to worry about according to Brendon who's been fussing over you for the past five days.

He's taken a temporary leave to nurse you back to health and "take care of his girls" as he put it, settling some stupid bet that the surgery department started a few days ago.

The little bug is practically glued to you, helping out her dad in whatever way she can, which isn't much, but it's always appreciated. She's even started reading you bedtime stories, but in truth she's just making things up as she points to the pictures.

At night, when she finally knocks herself out, Brendon settles into bed next to you, those first couple of days unable to get you into bed with him but finally, after much groaning and moaning, claiming he needed the extra room from his king for his back—which is a fucking lie since he always just sleeps tangled around you—he finally comes out victorious.

It's a Saturday when it happens.

No school, no early alarms, no nothing except his steady breathing, his safe embrace keeping you flush against his front, your leg straddled over his hip so that he can pull you in closer—

It's his own damn fault honestly.

You blink awake as a hardness pressed against your front. His heat pulls you in, your sleepy brain not thinking anything other than closer, warmer...so you roll your hips and a jolt of pleasure courses through you.

You're suddenly extremely aware of everything, frustration rearing its ugly head as memories flash from that night again.

You haven't touched yourself since then. Haven't wanted or been able to. But now, this morning you're just...very aware of how much you need it.

You roll your hips again, hoping to wake him up and have him take care of you. You can feel how much he needs it too, how much his body craves yours. If you can just—

"Baby," he groans against your temple, grip on you tightening, pulling you further into him. "What're you doing?"

You huff, desperate, sliding a hand in between your bodies and accidentally on purpose raking your nails along his length.

He hisses against your skin, question answered instantly as his eyes snap open.

"Oh sweetheart," he coos, merciful it seems. "Did you wake up needy, baby? Need me to take care of you?"

You nod, pathetically honestly, but you can’t care less.

He's got you sprawled under him in the blink of an eye, his mouth connecting with yours in a searing kiss before his lips begin to trail a path downward.

You're doing much better today. The cuts have scabbed over, the bruises are starting to fade from purple to brown, movement doesn't make you dizzy, if anything, it makes you just the right amount of lightheaded.

You feel his touch everywhere. Feather light grazes over your abdomen, nails raking up towards your breasts under his obnoxiously soft cotton t-shirt.

He removes his mouth off you so he can pull the shirt off your body, the offending fabric getting tossed to the side as his mouth latches onto your nipple.

You arch into his mouth, strangled moans escaping before his hand comes up to slide his fingers inside. He presses them against your tongue and you instantly suck on them as he too continues his assault.

When he's finally satisfied, he trails lower, hot tongue licking down your stomach until he reaches your pubic bone. His hand slips out from between your lips so he can hold your legs open for him before settling his mouth over your panties, taking a deep breath in and relishing in the way your breathing hitches.

Fuck he's so beautiful like this.

"Thank you baby," he grins against you. Fuck did you say that out loud?

He doesn't let you think on it as his mouth opens up, wide and predatory, and bites down on your mound, his tongue pressing against your clothed clit, working it through the fabric.

"Bren—please, I need—" you pant, already delirious.

"What do you need baby, tell daddy what you need."

Your head spins, heat blooms everywhere.

"Your mouth," you try, hoarse and needy. "Need your mouth."

He doesn't force you to beg, it's not the time for that. Instead, he shows you mercy, pulling your underwear to the side and diving right in.

His tongue is ravenous, licking a powerful stripe from your entrance up to your clit, groaning against your folds at the gathered wetness.

"So fucking good," he mumbles into your skin before his puffy lips latch onto your clit. He sucks and licks and pulls and tugs, all the while your body thrusts into his mouth. You almost hit him before his grip on your thighs tightens and he reminds you swiftly that he's much stronger than you.

You bite down on your tongue, hard enough to feel the sting, the faintness of copper lacing your taste buds. You know you have to be quiet but fuck do you want to scream.

"Bren fuck oh my god," you whimper, your hands threading through his soft waves, the lack of gel sending another shiver down your spine. No one else gets to see him like this.

He bites down on your clit then, pulling slightly before he slides down again, his nose perfectly hitting your bundle of nerves as his tongue and mouth fuck your entrance.

He feels you cumming before you even know what's happening, the coil in your abdomen snapping without even giving you a heads up. Your hands come up to muffle your screams while your body rocks, a tidal wave crashing through you as he does his best to hold you down, to work you through it.

He's gentle, diligent, devout almost as his mouth continues to kiss and lick and suck until you twitch from overstimulation. Only then does he detach himself from you, the bottom half of his face glistening with your release.

You look at him with the most gleeful expression, so proud of yourself, of his smugness.

He settles in between your legs again, pulling them tight around his waist, just reveling in being able to hold you against his naked front.

You're so blissed out, grateful and happy, planting your lips over every inch of skin he'll let you. But you're greedy now, you need more, want more.

You press your front against the bulge in his sweats and he hisses.

"We don't have to—"

"I want to," you kiss him again, your lingering taste euphoric. "Please."

You don't need to tell him twice. He rolls over towards his bedside table instantly, pulling out a silver wrapper and discarding his pants in what feels like seconds.

You can't help but giggle, the boyish smile on his lips and the way his cheeks tinge pink quickly sending you into overdrive.

You need this man inside of you right now.

You watch in awe as he tears the wrapper with his teeth, rolling on the slick condom over his impressive length.

Yeah, he's perfect, and he's yours, there's not a shred of doubt in your mind. You don't know how everything will fall into place but you don't have to, because you'll figure it out together.

He settles in between your thighs again, his chest pressing down against yours, desperate to be as close to you as possible before he lines himself up with your entrance and slowly thrusts himself inside.

You're wet enough that with the lube, he slides right in, your ass flush with his thighs in a dizzying, all consuming instant. He's perfectly snug, fitting so perfectly inside of you that neither of you can help the moan of satisfaction that spills.

It quickly turns into a fit of laughter, easy and shy, like you're both making love instead of having sex. And that just feels right.

He kisses you softly, tentatively, letting you get used to him before he begins to move. But you're impatient, your hips rolling on their own as you seek some friction.

He groans into your mouth. "Fuck baby, trying to kill me."

You smirk against his kiss, cocky for exactly three seconds before he meets your movement with a thrust of his hips. With the air getting knocked out of your lungs, he begins to move, slow and unhurried, all the way out before he thrusts right back to the hilt.

You hold onto him like your life depends on it, pressing further into his skin, his warmth, his safety. You can't get enough of him, of the excitement of tomorrow, of the need that comes from wanting nothing more than to be close to him.

"Such a good girl for me," he praises into your ear. "Letting me take care of you, only complaining a couple times."

You huff out a laugh, remembering the first time he'd helped you to the bathroom and then waited imposingly on the other side of the door until you were done. He's lucky he never tried to get in with you otherwise you would've hit him.

His thrusts pick up the pace in response.

"Let me take care of you, baby," he pleads then. "Whatever you decide, let me help you, please."

You blink back tears, nodding against his cheek, nails digging into his chiseled back.

"Yeah?"

"Yeah," you moan. "Please daddy—"

You don't get to finish as he groans, hoisting your bottom half off the bed as his mercifulness finally snaps.

He fucks into you like he needs to show you just how much your words affect him. The bed rattles, the mattress squeaks awkwardly but neither of you cares. You need this, need each other.

"Come on, pretty girl," he pants. "Cum with me, cum with daddy."

You're just as affected as him, your second peak slowly but surely sneaking up on you again as he sneaks a hand in between your bodies, pressing the pad of his thumb over your clit.

You clench around him and he hisses, leaning down to capture your lips with his in a searing kiss as warmth floods you both. Your moans get tangled in between hungry tongues and teeth, your bodies vibrate against each other in bursts of pleasure and care and...love.

You're unsure how long you're stuck there, in between real life and whatever the fuck you're feeling, but finally when your body pushes him out of you, he rolls over and goes into the bathroom.

You watch him through hazy eyes as he cleans himself up, his adonis like body always such a sight to gaze upon. He blushes crimson when he catches you watching him, the apex predator reduced to a blubbering mess by just one simple look.

But it's not simple, and you both know that.

Pride swells up in your chest as he runs a wet towel in between your legs, leaning down to kiss you over and over again before he finally deigns the day worthy enough to begin, or rather, three soft knocks on his bedroom door startle you back into reality.

"Can we have ice cream for breakfast?"

You roll your eyes, sharing a glance with him that warms your heart.

Yeah, you're gonna be alright.

a/n: thank you to everyone that participated in the poll! hope this is to your satisfaction dividers by @/enchanthings

[bluetimeombre]

─── HARD TO GET

synopsisyou and Trinity decide you've had enough of being the casual booty call, agreeing to play hard to get to prove to your partners you can go without them. easier said then done

warningsmut. oral (f! receiving) fingering, language, pinv, unprotected sex, MDNI. slight praise kink. no use of y/n

authornotethe way in which i need to be driven mad by this man using me is concerning to feminism

main masterlist. other Robby fic

“I don't get it!” said Santos for... well, you had no idea how many times she'd repeated herself but you were considering making it a drinking game. Every time she said she 'didn't understand' you resolved to take a shot. “I thought we were fine, doing great and casual- what- what is casual?”

Whitaker's hand hesitated in the air like they were in class. “Well I think by casual she means-”

“I know what casual means, Fuckle-berry,” said Santos quickly. “But it was casual now it's just weird.”

You nodded along, humming.

She groaned, hands running through her hair in frustration. “I don't get it!”

You took a long gulp of your wine.

“How do you handle it?” Trinity asked, arms wide in question at you.

“Me?”

“Yeah, how do you and Robby do casual?”

“Oh- we... it's- um-” you stumbled over your words, hoping that if you let it up long enough she'd take it back and start on her problems again. She didn't and she stood in front of you and Whitaker, waiting for an explanation.

The whole thing between you and Robby had started about the same time Santos and Garcia started. In an awkward confrontation that was you and Trinity bumping into each other in your shared bathroom, both your hairs messed up and both supporting bruises suspiciously in the shape of lips on your necks.

When you returned to your room you and Robby waited eagerly to see who would flee Santos's room. Neither too shocked to find Garcia.

“It's um?” Trinity asked.

“It's going,” you said into your wine glass, finishing it and pouring in more. The truth was for a while things had been odd, on your end more so.

Casual was a label you thought you could do, that when Robby said to you a week after sleeping together, his sheets over the both of your bodies that he liked keeping it simple. Sex. Release. You thought you could do it.

Almost three months since then and you were regretting it because every time you saw doctors eyes lingering over Robby, every time you heard his 'seven-week rule' and every time you saw happy couples fawning over each other in the ED your stomach twisted.

You didn't realise you wanted that until it was dangled in front of you and snatched away all in the same minute.

Trinity's brows rose. “Oh?”

You looked to where Whitaker was next to you, hoping for sympathy. You only found curious eyes. “It's just different than before.”

“Different how?” asked Dennis.

“Is it still casual?”

You scoffed, mumbling under your breath. “Yeah to him.”

“You want to be more?”

You didn't know if she was accusing but your room-mates expecting eyes on you heated your body in shame and embarrassment. “And you don't with Garcia?"

“Ok, enough!” suddenly Whitaker stood up. “The two of you, we need to sort this out.”

With a vacant seat next to you Trinity plopped herself down and you gave her your wine. You just decided to take the bottle.

“I cannot stand it anymore, okay! The two of you, we're gonna change this,” he said. “Trin- no more pining and waiting for Garcia to call at like one am.”

She was wanting to retort but only folded her arms over her chest as he carried on.

“And you-” he focused on you. “Need to stop crying over Robby. You guys can do better.”

“Yeah in a world where we're not working twelve hour shifts five days a week,” you said. The idea of casual hook ups wasn't anything new to the ED, not even the hospital. It was easy way of escape without the pressure of dating when all their time was spent saving lives or charting about saving lives or studying how to save lives.

On the coffee table in front of you Trinity's phone pinged and she reached for it like it was seconds away from self-destructing.

She tucked her phone into her chest to read the text before slamming it back down.

You caught a glance at the words and the contact. Can't make it tonight, I'll hit you up tomorrow- G

“You're gonna leave them,” he said.

You and Trinity sat up. “What?”

“No!”

There was a flicker of fear in his eyes.

“Okay- I take it back,” he said, surrendering. “Then how about give them a taste of their own medicine.”

“Their medicine?” you asked.

Whitaker gently nudged the empty glasses and cans of beer aside, perching on the edge of the coffee table, appealing to the two of you. “How many times have they cancelled plans, or said you couldn't come over to ask you to come over two hours later?”

You hadn't realised how perceptive he was.

“Now, make it so you guys call the shots. They want to come round, you say no.”

The idea was new to you. You'd always wanted Robby. You spent half your spare time wanting him and the other half having sex with him. You'd never even wanted to say no.

“So then we what, don't have sex?” asked Santos.

“You will,” he said. “You create distance, get them wanting and crying or what-whatever and then they'll realise they've messed up.”

You thought we was giving them too much credit.

Santos chuckled. “Huckleberry, are you telling us to play hard to get?”

He thought about it, eyes moving as if he was calculating it. “Yes!”

That's how plan 'hard to get' started. It was agreed you and Santos, the next time Garcia and Robby asked you to come over you'd say no.

Easier in practise when you work with them.

The next day was a slower day, un-usual in that sense. It meant everyone had more time to linger around each other.

“And so I said to him- officer-” said Myrna, lying on the bed between you and Robby. She'd seizure, hurt her leg and needed it disinfected and cleaned- not for the first time in her life. There was a mix of glass and gravel that needed plucking out and apparently the attending of the ED had nothing better to do that join you in the task. “What would you have done if you caught your third husband eating out another woman?”

“And did he say shoot him?” asked Robby. He was bent over the same leg as you, your heads so close you were either gonna head butt or kiss. Not likely over the state of her leg.

“No, he didn't say anything, he just arrested me!”

Robby hummed, his glasses sliding down the bridge of his nose. “Imagine that.”

“You know Myrna sometimes I can't tell if all these stories are true,” you said, taking a small bit of glass and adding it to the pile you'd already created.

“Oh they're all true, honey, I never lie. Unlike Mark that two faced bastard.”

“Which one was Mark?” you asked.

“The fourth husband. Good body and shit everything else!” she said with a wheeze. Abruptly she grabbed your hand. “Are you single?”

Robby glanced up at you, creases of amusement at the corner of his eyes.

You looked away first. “Why, you asking me out?”

“If you're single, stay single!” she said. “Men, all they are are liars! Lying bastards! And babies! I hardly even shot the guy!”

“Am I so bad, Doctor?” asked Robby looking over the frames of his glasses at you.

Was he so bad? No. He was short-tempered sometimes, moody, didn't accept help from anyone. But you knew he could be gentle, you knew his true belly laugh and the smile he gave at mornings when you were still in bed. You just wish you knew if he ever saw himself staying in that bed a little longer, if he ever wanted to make breakfast and take the day together, stealing moments throughout.

“No,” you said, looking back down to her leg that was almost clean. “You're not.”

Myrna was oddly silent but you could see her head moving between the two of you. “Don't go there sweetheart,” she said, a word of warning. “This one might look fun but he's all danger and heartbreak.”

“Me? No,” said Robby with an air of un-care. “I'm a teddy bear.”

Five minutes later you and Robby were instructing Perlah wrapping her leg before throwing off your gloves and leaving her to it.

“How many husbands you think Myrna had?” he asked.

“Oh there's no telling,” you replied, fetching her chart to finish off the notes. At some point someone had put a star next to her name, as if she was VIP.

Robby leant next to you, scanning around the ED. “Any plans tonight?”

“On a Wednesday? Nop.”

“Wanna come over?”

There was an abrupt and loud clear of a throat.

You hadn't realised Whitaker was there but he was watching the two of you, closely. When you met his eyes he gave a small subtle shake of his head.

Robby looked. “You got a cough, Whitaker?”

He cleared his throat, sliding down in his chair. “No.”

The agreement. It was all fine in practise but how were you supposed to say no when you just said you had no plans and you really wanted to have sex with him! It was the glasses, you were sure that was what did it. The way he pulled them on and pulled them off, the focus it gave him and the way they slipped down his nose.

“So, tonight?” he asked again, voice low.

Only a few people knew, like your room-mates and you were sure others had guessed. Robby wanted to keep it private. Or a secret, you'd never asked for clarification.

You caught Whitakers gaze on yours, watchful. He didn't say anything but you wondered if he'd be disappointed. Would you even be disappointed in yourself? “I can't tonight.”

“Oh,” he said, nodding. “Okay.”

He didn't sound annoyed. He didn't sound anything. It was impossible to tell.

“Yeah, we just- there's this thing-”

“Thought you had no plans?” he asked, an almost amused rise in his brows.

Ah. “It's like- not a plan- just a- a room mate thing. You know?”

Robby looked to Whitaker as if to confirm.

He nodded. “Yeah! Every Wednesday. We watch films.”

“Films,” you confirm.

“And talk.”

“We talk.”

Robby nodded. “Sounds thrilling.”

“Robby!” Dana called. “Got a trauma, woman in her thirties. Five minutes.”

“Got it," he said but he was still slumping over the counter. He took his time moving, stretching up till his shirt rode up enough to expose that slither of skin that held so many promises. “Some other time then.” His hand ghosted the small of your back before he disappeared.

You watched him go, realising you wouldn't spend the night buried in his bored but sleepless and restless.

Whitaker replaced Robby at your side. “See? Doesn't that feel good?”

You answered truthfully. “No.”

That night you, Santos and Whitaker sulked on the sofa, face masks over your faces with a bowl of popcorn left on the table and a shitty movie filling the silence.

Your phone lay face up with nothing from Robby and from Trinity's expression you figured she'd had nothing either.

You'd been to the bathroom once, took your phone with you and debated texting him but you never got that far. You only flicked through texts, casual one's at first. Small 'Are you coming over?' or 'You left your shirt at mine.' There were some dotted from him, on times you were both too busy to meet where things got more... riskier. His texts started simple but you could always catch on to his wants, leading his want.

Things like 'Thought about you today,' or 'you looked good today,' but he never just complimented you for the sake of it.

The texts didn't help so you turned your phone off and re-joined the two all the while your head and heart were in bed with Robby.

The next day passed like another dry spell.

It was busy- too make up for the quiet day beforehand. You didn't have time to greet Robby before being thrown into the chaos from a pile up on the highway. All day your bodies shuffled past each other, his hands lingering on your arms when he passed or always standing next to you in trauma.

It felt something like punishment.

Or a test.

By Friday you were crawling out of your skin, still dealing with the ramifications of the last two days. You hadn't even seen that Robby had text you the night before, so exhausted from work you crashed only spotting his name on your phone the morning you woke from the blare of your alarm.

“You're avoiding me,” he said, kneeling at the computer you typed furiously at to get your charting down. It was a casual move he used, usually un-tying and re-tying his shoes. This time, he simply knelt, seemingly done with pretence.

“What? No.”

“I've barely seen you the last few days," he said, wetting his lips. “Is there something wrong?”

“No, no, I've just been super busy,” you said, tapping on the computer.

Robby shuffled next to you. His hand laid next to yours. He didn't take your hand or stop you but his fingers fidgeted like he didn't know what else to do with himself. “Did I do something?”

You looked down at him, spotting the crease between his brows. “No.”

It was the closest you'd got to seeing him vulnerable.

“So tonight?” he asked. “Feel like I'm losing my damn mind.” His finger was light as it traced your hand, slowly drawing circles.

Tasting Robby was like the first sip of alcohol. It always left you wanting me. Sweet. Bitter. Whatever. You were just left wanting and nothing else, which was why you went crawling back every time. Why saying no had never crosse your mind before. Why the smallest touch from his hand was leaving you in shivers.

You squeezed your eyes shut. “I can't tonight-”

Robby smirked, breathing out a puff of air.

“I would,” you said quickly, turning in your chair to face him. “Believe me, I would, it's just... Trinity is going through some stuff and I just- I don't want to leave her alone, you know.”

It was the truth. Trinity was taking Garcia's silence worse than you or Dennis had anticipated. You knew there was more going on, you only wanted to be there to help her.

Robby perked. “You need me to speak to her?”

“No, no, it's just stuff. She'll be okay I just, want to be safe.”

He nodded but his finger fell from your hand. “Okay.”

“Doctor Robinavitch!” his name was called by the familiar dread of Gloria.

He sighed under his breath as he pushed himself up. “Oh so help me, God.”

By Saturday you were sure Robby thought you were lying and sort out to punish you. He was practically glued at your side all day long. He didn't ask to see you, didn't put his lips near you. But he lingered.

“Okay we don't have a lot of time, there's a lot of bleeding,” said Robby in the face of a trauma, looming over you. “We'll do a Hilar flip.”

“A Hilar flip, are you serious?” said Trinity.

“No other choice.”

You gulped, staring down at the bleeding and misplaced lung. “I've never done one of them before.”

“I'll talk you through it, we'll go easy,” he said, coming at your side. “You're gonna rotate the lung one-eighty, very slow. Very gentle.”

Perhaps it shouldn't have been as erotic as it was. The way his chest heaved against your back, his arm stretching along yours to hold your hand and guide it through the blood to his lung. His face was concentrated next to yours but his breath was hot on your cheek and breathless.

“Go slow.... go slow. Easy.... gentle.... just like that, there we go,” he uttered against your ear.

“Blood loss is slowing down.”

“There we go, you got it,” he mumbled as you slotted it back into its place. “Okay-” Robby moved on like your whole body wasn't trembling. You had to carry on trying to save the guys life after it, like you weren't picturing his entire body draped over yours, whispering filthy things in your ears.

“Thought I was watching a porno there,” said Santos as you all fled the room when the guy was stable.

“Jesus-” you caught your breath, throwing off the gloves and running your hands through your hair, trying to get some air to your neck that sweat.

Santos chuckled to herself. “So does Doctor Robby talk you through it?”

“Trin-” you snap.

“Does he praise you? Is that the kind of thing you're into.”

You didn't respond, hiding in the bathroom to throw cold water onto your face and calm the rush of blood but you could hear Santos outside the door. 'This is a teaching hospital!' she teased.

It became a thing you had to do, get away from him. You couldn't be distracted when dealing with patients. It was bad enough working with him when all you could think about was fucking him!

But Robby seemed to insist in helping you.

“Gaping wounds like this, under the skin we use sub-Q to bring it together,” he instructed as started the stitching for a mans wound on his leg. It was just like anything else, hardly a teaching wound when you knew how to do it. As it was under tissue and there was just no other nurse around Robby insisted.

“Five-O under skin, three-O after that,” he said.

“You think you could show me?”

You both knew you didn't need to be shown but Robby still gave you a small smile and sat on the stall, coming close to you till his meaty thigh was against your own. His hands- though gloved as yours were- still grazed yours as he took the instruments to do it.

“Guide it through... it's finer so you want to extra gentle... lotta care...”

You hummed but you couldn't say you were watching it with keen eyes. You weren't watching the way the stitches came together just the way his hands flexed, his fingers moved.

“Start deep... all the way in... bury the knot in... yeah, see how it comes together just like that?”

You nodded with an absent mind.

Robby held the equipment out to you. “Go ahead.”

You hesitated. Maybe you should have paid more attention.

He all but shoved them into your hand. “You're a big girl, you got it.”

Santos's voice played it your head. Were you into this?

With a breath you steadied yourself and went in. As he had before Robby leant over you, his body practically weighing you down.

You took the thread under the skin, pulling together just like he had.

“Bit deeper-” Robby's hands guided your arms. They were as light as a feather at your elbows before slowly sliding down your arms with a firmer hold, leading the threads.

You remembered his tight hold on you when he wanted you in place on the bed, when he was was dragging clothes off your body or wrapping a hand around your neck-

Robby called your name, watching you expectantly. His eyes were softened at the edges but they grew darker, the smallest bit of a smirk at the corner of his lips. Like he knew exactly what he was doing to you.

“Right... sorry-” you went as deep as he instructed, knowing his face was concentrated on you and your hands.

“Do you want me to leave?” asked the patient.

If he could leave his leg and leave it would've been great.

“We'll get you out of here in no time,” said Robby.

You'd thought that maybe the stitching at taken so long it was almost time to leave. Maybe you could talk to Whitaker and Santos about this hard to get thing. It was only eleven and you had more than six hours left with situations that constantly brought you and Robby together. Even when it didn't, there he was, whispering words of encouragement.

“You got this... nice and easy.... doing really good there...”

Or the simple phrase that had you hiding in the bathroom for five minutes.

“Good girl.”

When the end of the day came you ran out of there, gasping in air and rushing back back to your place.

“Hey,” you greeted walking through the door.

Trinity was already there, looking like she was ready to leave, jacket thrown over her scrubs she hadn't changed out of even though she finished an hour before you. “Hey.”

“Where's Huckleberry?”

“Oh he's at Amy's tonight.”

You scoffed. “Woah. What a speech about doing better and playing hard to get but as soon as the chance comes to play farm. So, movie tonight? I can order pizza?”

“Actually, I'm just on my way out too,” she said. “Garcia called.”

You slumped. Your entire body slumped. Your heart gave up. “What? I thought we all made a deal?”

“We did, I played hard to get now she wants to see me,” she said.

“I haven't seen Robby in three days!”

“So go to his, get dicked down, girl,” she said, moving past you with a breeze. “I'm sorry, we can talk about how much of a bitch I am when I'm back from having the best sex yet! Later!”

She was out the door before you could chastise her. You shut it after her, falling upon it.

You'd ran from the ED to stay strong, to avoid another interaction with Robby that would have you climbing his bones in an empty room. You'd happily have done it with the teasing he'd subjected you to all day. For your friends and the promise you'd made you remained strong.

You'd never do that again.

Saturday night after the longest shift of your life and you had the place to yourself. It was rare. Either Denis or Trinity were home or you were spending the night at Robby's.

Your phone was heavy in your pocket.

Call him.

But the problem still lied un-answered. You were still at Robby's beck and call, begging for his attention. Begging him to be hard thinking about you so he could fuck you into the mattress to be professional the net day and treat you like you were just another MR.

You didn't want special treatment so to say, didn't want him to give you the easy patients or get you into the traumas more. You just wanted a smile, or a glimpse of .... love.

Maybe your friends were okay with what they had. You weren't.

You turned your phone off for the night and stripped from your scrubs, changing into a large shirt and blasting music Trin hated and Denis claimed to hate (but you'd heard him playing your playlist in the shower). For a crazy night alone you caught up on washing several pairs of scrubs and anything else, cleaned out the freezer leaving you barren of anything to eat. Maybe you'd even iron some normal clothes-

That's at least what you were thinking when there was a knock at the door.

You'd hoped it was Denis or Trin coming back, tails between their legs, keys forgotten.

Robby stood on the other side of the door.

You stood, frozen, shocked to see him there. He was just as still, waiting with raised brows. “Doctor Robby. Is everything okay?”

His backpack was slung over his shoulder, his scrubs only slightly dirtied from the day. But his eyes were alive and his body didn't sag with exhaustion like usual. His eyes darted back behind you. “Can I come in?”

You held open the door, closing it slowly behind you.

Robby had only been to your place once before. He looked the open living space open with interest. Typically your meet ups were at his, on account he lived alone and his bed was much nicer to be down on than yours.

“Er- Whitaker and Santos aren't home, if- if this is a hospital thing.”

“It's not,” he said, lowering his bag at the sofa.

“Oh?”

He turned, leaning against the back of it. “It's a me and you thing.”

“Oh.”

His arms flexed as he folded them over his chest, the green of his top under his scrub bunched at the forearms. His head ducked, trying to get a read on you. “So?”

You rocked on your heels, realising the shortened of the shirt you wore. Not that it wasn't anything he had seen before. “So...”

“What's going on?” he asked. There was still nothing in his voice to give away his true thoughts, only a slight edge of urgency.

“What-what-what do you mean?”

Robby listed off what he saw was wrong like symptoms. “You've been avoiding me, you never answered my texts, you didn't want to see me the other night nor tonight though you have the place to yourself-”

“I didn't realise they were gone,” you said.

“Okay so every other time?” he asked. “If I did something you can tell me. I'm a big guy, I can take it.”

It was a chance to voice up every ill thought you'd had but all you could think about was how big he was. Standing there, jutted on the back of the couch with his scrubs around his arms and thighs.

“You didn't do anything,” you said, though you weren't looking at his eyes more his arms.

They flexed again like he knew what he was doing. His voice dropped, finally to something you could name. “So tell me. what's going on.”

If you threw yourself at him you knew the chances of him taking you to bed were high, but the chances of you regretting it in the morning when he had rolled out of bed, dressed and left you were higher.

“I just-” you blew out a breath, readying yourself for the dismiss. “I don't think I can do this anymore.”

Robby waited like he was listening to the words re-play. His head lowered as he nodded, taking it in. “May I ask why?”

“It's the casual thing,” you rushed out before you could take it back. “I don't think I can do casual. I thought I could, but I-I can't.”

He nodded, chin tucked into his chest and for a moment you thought you really had upset him. But then he straightened up, pushed himself from the sofa and shrugged. His boots thudded heavy as he stepped to you slow. “Okay then.”

Was this the moment when you got the door for him on the way out?

“Okay, so... um.... I guess I'll see you-”

Robby's hands grasped your cheeks and he kissed you quick, hard. His lips tasted as they always did with a hint of mint-freshness. They were rough as always as they worked against yours, opening you up to him as always-

You brushed away, shaking your head. “I um- Robby I can't-”

He took a deep, shuddering breath. He stepped closer to you, the heat of his body waving over you. “We don't have to be casual anymore, I don't want to be casual- not anymore.”

Everyone knew Robby only knew casual. Only selected few ever got past seven weeks. Heck you hadn't counted how long this had been going on for, maybe ten weeks but that could be nothing. You were good sex, that was all.

“Robby-”

“Listen, listen-” he said, arms waving around you before settling on your forearms. “You don't want casual, neither do I. You want me to ask? You want me to ask you to be my girlfriend, I'll ask.”

“Robby you don't date,” you tried to tell him.

He scoffed. “I date. But not anymore, not if I have you.”

Had word of the deal got out? Was Robby just tired after his shift? Delusional?

“Hey, hey-" his hands ran through your hair, cradling your cheeks. “I should've said it earlier, I know but I want this. I want serious.”

His eyes crinkled as he looked at you, the edges of his gaze soft. “You don't just have to say this. You can have anyone else-”

Robby's head ducked into the crook of your neck, brushing your hair back and pressing light kisses to the expanse of your neck. “I don't want anyone else, I want you.”

Your body awakened in shivers that he elicited.

His fingers wound to the front of your body, slowly peeling away the buttons of the shirt till it pooled at your ankles. He didn't move to ravage you, his lips remained light as they kissed down your neck, finding your collarbone and working a mark there.

Your hands wound up his arms, clutching at his shoulders. “Robby-”

“Not this time,” he uttered against your collarbone.

You knew what you called him when it was you and him. “Michael-”

“Good girl.”

You moaned out at the words, the moan you'd held all day revibrating around your flat.

He slowly kicked odd his boots and helped you throw off his scrub top before he kissed you again.

You only got a short glimpse at the body you craved before his tongue, hot and heavy, slid into you mouth, bathing in the warmth. His hands were rough as they studied every inch of your body, fingertips digging into skin.

“I want you, sweet girl,” he mumbled against your lips as you scaled your hands under his shirt and along his stomach till your fingers skimmed under his waistband.

His mouth opened against yours, groaning at this slightest touch. “Oh-”

His arms scooped you up, bringing your body up and flush against him as his arms were strong on your back, kissing you. It was all wet tongue and soft lips as he stumbled back on the edge of your couch.

“Santos will kill me if we have sex on our couch,” you gasped.

Robby rose a brow. “Oh, we're having sex?” he teased.

“I should hope so.”

You kissed you hard again, wetting the both of your mouths in delectable smacks of your lips. The two of you stumbled away to your room and his body caged you in as the two of you fell atop your sheets.

You crawled up the bed as Robby's face fell between your chest. His tongue made wet paths from each breast, taking a nipple in his mouth and his hand groping at the other one till you withered against his body.

“Michael-”

He moaned into your breast and shoved a meaty thigh between your legs. “Grind on me,” he demanded.

Your body did against him as if it only listened to his command.

He mouthed your other breast, groping where his tongue had pressed before. All the while you body moved against his thigh, dragging your pussy against him.

“Yeah.... jus' like that... god.... can feel you.... so good,” he uttered as he jutted his thigh against you.

Your hands went to his shoulders, messaging the skin there until he came back up your body and shoved his tongue down your throat again. Your arm wrapped around his neck, keeping him into you.

All the while you wet down his scrubs.

“You want serious?” he uttered against you, pulling back enough to see you.

You nodded, hair splayed over your pillow.

Robby nodded along, eyes hooded. His hand slid down between your bodies. “I can do serious.”

His finger slid into you, working in and out in slow thrusts. But even the meassured curl of his finger had you holding him, back arching from the bed.

“Mmph-”

“Don't be quiet,” he said, nuzzling his head in you neck, biting the skin there. “Don't do that.”

Another finger curled in and you moaned on. You weren't quiet usually, there was nothing more than Robby liked than being loud. Everything was measured in the ED, out of it, buried inside of you or hot mouths on each other had Robby groaning, moaning and wanting you to do the same.

His fingers thrusted knuckle deep in and out again, the soft moving of skin moving around the room as your breaths covered the sound.

His fingers moved quick as your breaths grew laboured. He sucked the skin of your neck, thrusting and curling as his hips sort some sort of friction.

You withered against him. “I'm gonna- Michael I'm gonna-”

He released your skin with a small bite and laid his mouth open on yours. “Cum,” he uttered.

“Michael-”

His voice turned harder, the hand that wasn't inside of you wrapping around your neck, pushing you into your bed. “Cum.”

With just the right curl Robby had your pussy in the palm of his hand, slick with your release as he worked you through it, rubbing his hand along your clit with jolts of your body.

“God so good,” he said, looking up at you as a thin sheen of sweat glistened on your bodies. “And all mine?”

You nodded, cheeks flushed. You could feel the heat of your body as strong as it was when he walked in.

“All mine, huh?”

“Yes,” you said, breathless.

Robby slowly took out his fingers from you, putting his fingers in his mouth and licking them clean like it was nothing. He fell back on his feet, fingers working on the ties of his scrubs. “That why you were avoiding me?”

“I wasn't-” your words died in your throat as he dropped his scrubs and boxers in one.

You'd seen his cock enough to know it by memory but the size and fullness of him always rendered you speechless.

Robby knew it to. He stood there with a smirk. “You weren't avoiding me?”

Slowly, he sank to his knees.

“No,” you said, mesmerised by the sight of him going down.

Robby's hands grabbed your thighs, spreading them. He tapped your ankles, getting them on the bed as he got closer to your heat, still leaking from the last orgasm. “Promise?”

The words had hardly left your lips before his tongue pressed into you.

Your entire body moved into his but his arms wrapped around your hips, keeping you pressed into the bed. He moved further up, burying himself in you.

“Aw- fuck-” your hands waved for purchase before curling into the sheets.

He licked a stripe up and down before nudging your lips open and finding himself in there. It wasn't the slow drag of fingers but the desperate kisses and licks of a man hungry. He pulled back, spitting against you. “You won't avoid me again, will you baby?”

You shook your head.

Robby's eyes remained on yours until he buried himself in your pussy. You watched his eyes roll into the back of his head as he moaned into you.

His hands kept you spread open every time they quivered but it didn't take long for his hand to wind down to his cock. You prepped yourself up onto your elbows to watch as he pumped his cock agonizingly slow.

“Want your cock, Robby-”

He halted his movements and you but down on your lip.

“What did you just call me?” he asked, slowly moving up your body.

You knew you were supposed to call him Michael but watching the full swing of his cock stand to attention as he made his way over you was far too distracting.

“Hey-v his hand cupped your chin, forcing you to look up. “Michael.”

You nodded. Your hands reached for his cock, straining to wrap around him.

The only notice of the effect you had was the clench of his jaw.

“Michael,” he repeated, voice almost a growl.

“Michael.”

He nodded.

“Condom?” he asked, jutting back on his heels.

Your hand slowly worked his cock, the pre-cum beading at the tip. You shook your head. You were both clean, you were on the pill but tonight you wanted to feel everything, wanted him to even fill you-

Robby bent his head, spitting down on his cock and your hand. For a moment that's all it was, you hand moving on his cock as your other circled your clit. “God... your hand.... missed you...”

When your strokes got heavier, faster Robby's head fell back and he groaned. His cock was pink, heavy in your hand-

Quickly he grabbed your wrist and threw it off before grabbing the hilt of his own cock and slowly pushing into you.

His throat strained as he groaned at the push in and your back arched into him. “Fuck!” he fell atop you, arms braced at either side. “Shit- ah-”

Your arm wrapped around his shoulders, keeping you in.

“God, you make me crazy,” he uttered, searching for your lips.

The two of you collided in a mess of salvia, tongue, lips as he pushed into you, catching your gasps.

Eventually the rock of his hips grew steady. The creak of your old bed echoed the moves of him against you.

“Shit- ah-” he groaned, shaking off the sweat and the tension.

“Michael,” you said, holding him in closer. “I want you to... go hard.”

Hard he could do. Soft he could do. He would do anything you asked.

His tongue darted out, swiping your lips. “You missed me?”

“So much, so much, so much,” you pulled him down till his weight tested yours, cock deep. “On me.”

“Okay, okay,” he mumbled to himself. He put all his weight down, crashing your body into his bed. He wasn't as young as he once was. By no means but if you wanted it, he'd give it.

Pressed into you his cock went far and deep and he couldn't fully withdraw so it was small, maddening movements.

“Oh god,” he uttered.

You moaned, loud, as he wanted and he was breathless, groaning.

The dull thump of your headboard banged on the wall and something on your bedside table fell off.

Robby's arm stretched out, grabbing your hand and stretching your arms to the headboard, trying to steady it. With the stretch of the bodies he reached that spot in you.

“Aw fuck!” You yelled out, louder than anticipated. “Michael I'm gonna- I'm gonna-”

“Fuck, fuck, fuck-” he grunted with you. His other hand threw to your hip, holding your pelvis flush into you. “Fuck!”

In seconds he let go inside of you and the gush of his cum and the sound of the wet bodies threw you over the edge. His clutch on your hand grew tighter as his body trembled with yours, the spurts of your releases cooling down.

If this was casual Robby wouldn't have lingered, he'd have pulled out, flashed you a smile before using the bathroom.

He moved slower, staying till the both of you were spent. He kissed you, soft and sweet, lips moving around to remember the taste. “I'll move out,” he whispered as he took out his cock.

You stole a glance of both of your release leaking from you and around him before Robby moved aside.

He didn't flee, he didn't go to the bathroom. He pulled the sheets from under your bodies and got the both of you into bed. He laid beside you.

Robby tucked you under his arm, sweat on both your bodies cooling as you laid together. “Feels better when we're serious.” His fingers moved slow on your shoulder, delicate touches like a feather.

If he woke with a new thought, woke with regret you'd deal with it. For the moment you allowed yourself to feel the thump of his heart as the two of you slowly lulled to sleep.

Your alarm was the first thing you picked up in the morning. It's beeping ringing in your ear as you moved to turn the thing off or throw it at the wall-

A weight over your stomach made the effort harder but you got it.

Last night came back to you in the spill of scrubs on the floor and the ache between your legs.

Robby stirred next to you. Last night.

He stayed.

“You on today?” he asked, morning voice rough. You got a look at him, it was a rare sight you got to see him in morning light. His eyes were still shut, his face without the stress the day job gave him. He asked so casual, as if this was a morning routine you'd slipped into years ago.

You hummed, nodding and readying to move-

His arm tightened, drawing you in. “Call in sick.”

You chuckled, but your eyes closed. You promised yourself five more minutes. “My attending might have something to say about that.”

Robby grumbled. “Have a word with him, I'm sure you can be very persuasive.”

Somewhere in you apartment you heard the front door open and close, voices moving around the place.

You hadn't closed the door.

“Hey! We brought coffee and bagels!” called Santos.

“We're sorry for leaving you- we- huh?” you heard Whitaker. “What the?”

The clothes on the floor. The scrub top that would have his doctors badge on it.

You groaned and suddenly Whitaker and Santos were passing the doorway, one smirking, the other shocked.

Robby beside you didn't even stir.

“Good morning, Doctor Robby!” called Santos.

He only lifted a hand in greeting before making sure the covers were over the two of you.

You reached for something heavy, landing on a cushion and aiming at the door. It closed in front of your laughing friends.

Safe to say the deal was off.

[entallica]

10/10 absolutely delicious.

[sarcasticvodka]

I rather read a terribly written fic (but written with love) than an a soulless fic written by AI

[entallica]

Hii, sweetheart!! How are you? 💗

I'm sorry if I'm bothering you (also, I dunno if you're taking requests rn), but when you have time, can you write something with Jack Abbot or Robby x slightly chubby, shy, and insecure reader (ofc if you’re comfortable!!)

Thank you in advance and don't worry if you won't write it!! 🥹🫶🏻

Have a nice day/afternoon/night!!

hi angel!! I’m doing great thank you for asking <3

I am taking requests rn & I would totally love to write this!

I will start working on it soon 😘

READ HERE!

[entallica]

LIE WITH ME & JUST FORGET THE WORLD

Jack Abbot x fem!nurse!reader

Synopsis: Jack knows just how to take care of you after a long shift. (fluff, more fluff, & a side of comfort)

Content: established relationship, no use of y/n, pet names (hon, sweet girl, sweetheart, baby), jack is touchy, nonsexual shower, jack loves his girl, prosthetics mentioned, slight description of making out, basically just absurd amounts of fluff

WC: ~1.6k

A/N: look who finally got a new fic out!! So sorry for the wait, I was on vacation & then had a bit of a medical situation. That being said, (hopefully) we are so back! also damn I #need that old man so bad

Now Playing: Chasing Cars - Snow Patrol

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Your head pounded as the lack of sleep and expiration of caffeine began to catch up to you. The thick scent of antiseptic and old tile swam through your senses as you attempted to focus your eyes on the glowing screen in front of you.

You had been charting for what felt like hours, though it had merely been twenty minutes that consisted of you re-reading the same ten words over and over. You could hear distant footsteps and voices from every direction, with the occasional beep of a machine finding a way to occupy the limited space in your mind.

A gentle hand being placed on your shoulder snapped your attention back to the environment around you, as you looked over your shoulder to find a familiar smile looking down on you.

His salt and pepper curls frizzed out in every direction and fluffed up around his face to exhibit the constant running of his fingers through his hair.

His body seemed to move slower than normal in exhaustion as he crouched down to meet your eyes from where you were sitting behind the nurses station.

"Hey, hon. Just wrapping up, wanna head out soon?" Jack asked with heavy, tired eyes. You could only imagine how similar yours looked.

You nodded at him as you spoke, "Yeah 'course. Just finishing a couple charts." His rough, warm hand began to rub up and down your arm as he gave you a gentle smile that barely met his eyes.

He muttered an okay, before giving your arm a light squeeze and standing to go back to whatever he needed to do.

Jack knew that you were exhausted. Knew that you were beyond exhausted.

You couldn't sleep the whole day before your shift. Of course, Jack laid next to you the whole time, trying to tire you out and comfort you in any way he could. But from rubbing your back with his calloused hands to going on a walk with you in the middle of his interrupted sleep, nothing seemed to work.

You sighed and rested your cheek against your palm, holding yourself up in any way you could to finish your work.

It always made you feel guilty to know that you kept Jack up with your lack of sleep, but he always insisted that there was nothing he'd rather do than be with you and take care of you.

Which is exactly what he did after you had finally clocked out for the night.

He followed you into the changing rooms as you slowly lifted your charcoal scrubs over your head, leaving you in nothing but a bra and pants with frizzy hair from the lengthy shift.

As he took off his own shirt, his eyes wandered over to where you stood, checking on you and admiring you all in one glance.

Jack always thought you were the most beautiful thing to ever exist, even when you claimed you were anything but.

He simply adored you and everything you did.

Before your clean shirt found its way over your head, Jack grabbed onto your waist and pulled you into him. You let out a gentle grunt at the unexpected contact, but melted into his bare chest nonetheless. He wrapped his arms tightly around you as yours found their way around his waist.

"You're so beautiful." He muttered into your hair, gently rocking you side to side.

You scoffed, "Oh please, I look like shit." You stated, referring to your current state of fatigue and overexertion.

"You could never look like shit", he sighed with a light press of his lips to your head, "You're perfect. My sweet girl."

You hummed at his words, tilting your head up and resting your chin onto his chest, finding his eyes with your own.

"I love you, baby." You pouted, making him chuckle and move his hand to rest on the side of your cheek.

"I love you too, sweetheart." He said, leaning in to press a firm kiss against your lips. You both sighed into the kiss, cherishing the first peaceful moment you two had all night. "Let's get out of here, yeah?"

You nodded and pulled away to finish changing into your clothes, taking his hand as you walked out of the changing room with all of your belongings.

As you got to his truck in the parking lot, Jack opened the door for you and held your hand as you climbed inside.

From finding small ways to take care of you (even when it’s something you could easily do yourself), to showing you off as if you were the most precious thing on Earth, Jack made sure you knew you were loved in any and every way he could.

As Jack began to back up out of the parking spot, your eyes found his demeanor and noticed how he looked just as tired as you, if not worse.

His eyes drooped with sleep and his shoulders hung low, yet here he was, taking care of you as if he wasn't just as near collapse.

You frowned and wrapped your arm around his bicep, letting your head fall down to rest on his shoulder.

He glanced down at the contact before pressing a kiss on the top of your head, turning his eyes back to the road.

For the rest of the drive home, you stayed wrapped around his arm and resting on his shoulder, softly humming to the music being played on the radio.

Every few minutes Jack would glance down as you, taking it in and smiling, even though you couldn't see him.

As he pulled into the driveway you sat up, stretching your arms over your head and exhaling. He stepped out of the car and walked over to the passenger side, opening your door and helping you out, like he always did.

The sun had already begun to rise but the brisk morning air still nipped at your cheeks as you both made your way into the house.

His warm hand stayed laced with your own, solid and gentle all at once.

You kicked off your shoes and immediately flopped onto the couch, letting out a loud sigh.

"Quite the shift, huh?" He joked, sitting next to you and placing a hand on your thigh.

"Yeah something like that." You mutter, letting your head fall back and your eyes close.

"How 'bout we get ready for bed then, hm?" Jack took your hand, pulling you up to stand after a few moments of protest.

He walked you into your room, before sitting you on the bed and turning to the en suite bathroom to turn on the shower.

As he walked back in, you couldn't fight the smile on your lips.

"What?" He chuckled, leaning down to remove his prosthetic, while you grabbed his crutch next to the bed.

"I got so lucky with you." You said, walking over and swapping him, prosthetic for crutch.

"Oh, sure." He rolled his eyes.

"No seriously, Jack." You said firmly, taking his free hand in yours, stopping him from turning back to the bathroom, "You are so good to me."

He shook his head and let go of your hand to place his palm against your cheek, "I'm just giving you what you deserve."

He pressed a light kiss to your forehead before walking with you to the shower, removing his clothes and taking a seat on his shower chair that he always insisted was 'unnecessary' (but he used it everyday anyway).

Stepping into the shower, you let the steam envelop your skin in a warmth that merely mimicked the heat you felt in your chest from being around Jack.

As the hot water rose around you and created a dense fog, your sight immediately drifted back to the man sitting in front of you.

Jack smiled at you and patted his thigh, urging you to sit on his lap.

Obliging, you let your knees fall atop his thighs and around the chair, before tilting your head to press a solid kiss against his lips.

He groaned and moved his hand to the back of your head, pulling you in farther while tangling his fingers into your hair.

When you pulled apart to catch your breath, he rested his forehead against yours.

"I'm so proud of you." He said, opening his eyes to look into yours. The speckles in his brown eyes captured yours with a million unspoken words of admiration and devotion while his hands held your body and face like you could slip away at any given moment and he was refusing to let you do so.

You frowned before leaning back into him as the water ran down your back and continued to fog up the space around you.

And he kissed you like the world was ending.

His lips pressed to yours with every ounce of passion you could ever comprehend.

His hand on your back slid lower, pulling you tighter into him while he slightly opened his mouth against yours. Your tongues found their way to one another, pressing into each other and exchanging all the words you didn't need to say aloud.

Once you finally pulled away, he didn't move a muscle. He just held you there.

His head rested on your shoulder as he left warm, wet kisses all across your neck and shoulder. Though his hands stayed where they were before, cradling your head and back.

"Hey, Jack?" You spoke into his hair.

"Yes, sweetheart?" Another kiss to your neck.

"Promise me this will never change?"

He paused, looking up at you.

"Baby you are all that I am," his hand moved to rest upon your cheek, "I don't know where, or how, but I know that this will always be."

And so he held you through another night,

promising you,

showing you,

letting his grace remind you how to find your own,

and you finally slept.

[entallica]

yay new fic!! hope yall like fluff 🫠

[entallica]

PROJECT HAIL MARY MASTERLIST

PLAYLIST: Champagne Supernova - Oasis / 500 Miles - Peter, Paul and Mary / Space Oddity - Davide Bowie / Starman - David Bowie / Everlong - Foo Fighters / American Pie - Don McLean

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★ = favorites!

⋆｡°✩ RYLAND GRACE

—- champagne supernova (comfort/fluff)

—- coming soon!