Robby has never been a fan of birthdays. This year, loneliness drives him to download Tinder on an impulse, only to come across the last person he expected to find there: his favorite resident.
warning/tags: minors DNI, p0rn with little plot, masturbating, sexting, pet names (sweetheart and good girl) robby loves talking you through it, unprotected piv, pussy eating, multiple orgasms, body hair, fingering, creampie, handjob, kinda softdom!robby, age gap (I imagined reader being in her 20s or 30s but could be in her 40s too, tried to keep it broad)
For those of you who read it the first or second time I uploaded it: during the days the fic was down, I expanded some scenes, added a bit more dialogue, and made it a little kinkier along the way. You might want to read it again for some extra content
He knew this was stupid, plainly a terrible idea. On any other day, the thought wouldn’t have even crossed his mind, but today wasn’t any ordinary day. Today was his birthday. Fifty-five years old, and he had never felt more lost in his own life. Nothing had turned out the way he’d once imagined it would. If someone had told him, back when he was a resident, that he would still be coming home to an empty apartment at this age, no wife curled up on the couch waiting for him with a tired but loving smile, no chorus of small feet thundering toward the door, shoving drawings into his hands and saying “Look what I made for you today, daddy!” he would have laughed in their face and called it a cruel joke.
Yet here he was. No relationship had ever survived the weight of the hours and the way his mind stayed trapped in the ED long after he left it. He couldn’t be present anymore, not the way a partner deserved. The job had hollowed him out in ways he hadn’t noticed until it was too late.
It had been almost a year since he ended things with Noelle, not long after he returned from his sabbatical. He’d told himself it was the right thing to do. Maybe it really was better this way. At this point in his life, trying again felt pointless, almost selfish. He was saving whatever good women were still out there from the inevitable complications of loving Michael Robinavitch.
But today the emptiness hit differently. The apartment felt quieter than usual, and his thoughts were louder, circling like a vulture. He knew it was the birthday doing this to him. Birthdays had a way of dragging the sorrows out into the light, every missed milestone, every abandoned version of the life he thought he’d have. Jack had tried to pull him out of it, offering a beer after shift, but Robby had politely declined. He wasn’t in the mood for forced cheer, for anyone raising a glass to another year of the same.
He’d made it clear to the whole department that he didn’t want any birthday cake, no cards, no presents, nothing. Still, the well-meaning murmurs had followed him all day: “Happy birthday, Dr. Robby,” each one met with a progressively wearier smile until the words blurred together. By the end of the shift, he was only managing quiet nods of acknowledgment, the kind that said thank you and please stop at the same time.
So here he was, in an apartment that was too big for himself, lying on a couch that felt even bigger, downloading Tinder on his phone. He rubbed a hand over his face, he’d tried Tinder once, maybe two years ago. Downloaded it, swiped for a week, then deleted it when the superficial nonsense started bothering him too much.
He started with the basics. Photos. Robby opened his gallery and scrolled slowly through the meager collection. Most of the images were work-related, grainy screenshots of charts, or blurry shots of trees and roads he’d taken during his bike rides. After a long hesitation, he picked a silly selfie he’d sent Jack a few weeks earlier. He was holding up the book the two of them had been texting about, half-smiling at the camera like he felt ridiculous even taking it. It wasn’t terrible, he supposed. He looked… friendly. Approachable, maybe.
Next, he chose one from the department barbecue he’d actually forced himself to attend last summer. He was wearing the sleeves rolled up on a button-down shirt, and holding a beer in his hand. He didn’t hate it, it showed a version of himself that still showed up for people, even when he didn’t feel like it. The last one was from the hospital fundraiser gala two years ago. He looked elegant in that photo in a black suit, but he had to crop Jack out of the frame, his face was still half-visible over his shoulder. Three photos, not exactly a compelling portfolio, but they were honest, he wasn’t pretending to be anyone other than himself.
He moved on to preferences. Gender: Women. Age range… His thumb froze. At first, he set it to 50–60. Women at the same stage he was, maybe divorced, maybe widowed, or just tired of feeling alone. But then something flickered in his chest, part curiosity and part desperation, and before he could talk himself out of it, he dragged the lower end down. Twenty to sixty. The wider net felt reckless, almost embarrassing. But what if the love of his life existed somewhere in that range? What if he missed her by something as stupid as a single year on a slider?
As if the love of your life was sitting on Tinder on a Sunday night, he thought. Don’t be fucking stupid, Robby.
He stared at the screen for a long moment, and with a quiet sigh that sounded too much like surrender, he tapped confirm. Now it was time for the bio. Robby stared at the blank field for a long minute. What the hell was he supposed to say? He wasn’t looking for anything specific. Company? Distraction? Someone who wouldn’t mind a man who came home at crazy hours, sometimes covered in blood and whocarried more baggage than he could carry?
He typed slowly what felt the most honest: “ER doctor in Pittsburgh. Love long bike rides to clear my head and 70s rock. Not entirely sure what I’m looking for here, but if you can handle sarcasm and odd hours, we might get along.”
He read it back. It sounded stiff, after all, he wasn’t used to this. But it was him, and so he hit save before he could overthink it more. The app prompted him to start swiping. Robby leaned back against the couch as the profiles began loading, smiling faces, pictures of holiday destinations, and bios full of lists of requirements. He swiped left on most without much thought.
Left. Left. Left. Some of the women seemed nice, but nothing pulled him in. He kept going until the endless scroll of faces started blurring together. No one stuck, just the same hollow feeling that had driven him to download the damn thing in the first place.
But then your profile appeared. Robby’s entire body froze. The photo loaded first: you, one of his own residents. You were standing in scrubs outside the Pitt with the same smirk you got after a particularly chaotic shift. “Jesus Christ,” he muttered as the heat crawled up his neck. Awkward didn’t even begin to cover what he was feeling right now.
At work you were talented and dedicated, but still green enough that he rode you hard during shifts. And here you were on Tinder, of all places. The thought that you, or anyone else from the department, might stumble across his profile made his stomach twist with embarrassment. He could already imagine the gossip: Dr. Robby on Tinder. How pathetic.
He should swipe left immediately, delete his profile, and pretend this never happened. Instead, curiosity won. Robby tapped on your profile, telling himself it was just… professional concern. Making sure you weren’t doing anything stupid. He cared about his residents. Yeah, that was it.
Your bio loaded beneath the main photo: “If you like girls who will force you to watch her Letterboxd top four and then talk your ear off for hours about the hidden meaning behind her favorite songs, then I’m your girl. Emergency med resident with zero free time. Not looking for anything serious, just fun, meeting people, seeing where it goes.”
Robby let out a chuckle despite himself, the sound was unexpected in the quiet of the moment. He had only ever seen you in the chaos of the ED, running on adrenaline and too little sleep. But this version of you felt… different. He found himself thinking about how little he actually knew you. How little he’d allowed himself to know.
He didn’t know where you were from, or what your family was like, whether you had siblings who called too often or parents you tried to make proud. He didn’t know what you did outside of the hospital besides the occasional beer in the park, or what made you laugh until your sides hurt. All those small and ordinary pieces of a life that existed outside the emergency department.
It felt strangely intimate, seeing you like this. Like stumbling across a part of you he wasn’t supposed to have access to. A version of you that wasn’t filtered through the hierarchy of resident and attending. Up until now, you had been “his resident”, contained within the professional boundaries he’d carefully maintained.
He started swiping through your photos. The second picture was you laughing in what looked like a group hike, with your hair windblown and your eyes bright. You looked undeniably pretty. Objectively, he’d always known you were attractive. The kind of natural attractiveness that turned heads in the hospital corridors even when you were exhausted and covered in sweat. But once again, he’d never thought about it. You were a resident, he’d gone down that path before, and it’d ended badly. That made you off-limits, end of story.
The third photo was of you in a cozy sweater, curled up with a book and a mug of coffee. It was cute, almost sweet. The kind of image that made the loneliness in his chest ache. He kept swiping until the last photo hit him like a defibrillator. You were on a beach somewhere sunny and sandy, wearing a bikini. Your skin was glowing under the sun, and you were smiling at the camera in a confident pose, the kind of effortless beauty that could stop any man cold. Holy fuck, your body barely contained by the fabric of the bikini, the photo capturing the gentle swell and the way the light played across your body.
Robby’s mouth went dry, the heat flooded his face and then lower down his body. He hadn’t expected that. Hadn’t let himself imagine you like this, outside the hospital, undeniably a woman and not just one of his residents. His pulse kicked up, the nervousness made his hands shake and his grip slippery. He fumbled the phone, trying to swipe left fast. Swipe left, damn it, he thought.
But he accidentally jerked his thumb the wrong way, to the right, and the screen lit up with that unmistakable animation.
It’s a Match!
On the other side of Pittsburgh, you had been lying in bed, still trying to unwind after another brutal twelve-hour shift. Sleep felt miles away, so you’d given in to the guilty habit of late-night Tinder scrolling. Sure, swiping at 1 a.m. probably looked desperate to anyone else, but who cared? It wasn’t like you had much of a life outside the hospital anyway.
You swiped left with efficiency. Guy whose entire bio was just a link to his podcast. Left. Gym mirror selfies and nothing else. Left. Self-proclaimed “entrepreneur in the crypto market” with a Lamborghini in the background that probably wasn’t even his. Left.
How was it this difficult to find someone even remotely decent? You weren’t expecting to meet the love of your life in this digital dumpster, but was it really too much to ask for a man with basic social skills and a profile that didn’t scream immediate red flags? Someone whose opening line wasn’t just “u dtf?”
Guy who still clearly lived with his mom. Another left. “No feminists” in the bio, followed by a rant about “high value woman.” Left.
Then your thumb froze mid-swipe. Michael Robinavitch. Your heart slammed against your ribs. There he was, Dr. Robby, looking straight into the camera in one of the photos, that familiar half-smile you’d seen a thousand times in the ED, only now it was on a dating app.
You sat up straighter in bed, suddenly wide awake. What the hell was Dr. Robby doing on Tinder? You’d scrolled through this app for weeks and never seen him before. He must have created the profile recently. The man you’d been quietly (and not-so-quietly) thirsting over since your very first day of residency was right here. One match away.
How could you not like Robby? He was everything you’d ever wanted in a man, strong, steady, impossibly smart, and so damn capable it made your legs weak every single time he gave you a calm and yet authoritative instruction in the middle of a trauma.
You’d lost count of how many times he’d gently reprimanded you for being distracted while charting. He always assumed you were just tired from the long hours. He had no idea that you kept getting lost in vivid daydreams about him: running your fingers through the silver-flecked hair and that coarse, greyish beard, feeling those big hands wrap around your waist, pulling you close.
You loved the way his eyes crinkled warmly behind his glasses when he smiled, the way his voice dropped into that gravelly register when he needed to command attention in the ED… it did things to you. Dangerous, addictive things. Sometimes getting in trouble with him felt more exciting than it had any right to.
His Tinder bio was unexpectedly adorable. He looked a little lost, like he wasn’t entirely sure he belonged on the app but was willing to put himself out there anyway. That bike is not the only thing I’d like to ride, you thought, as a little smile tugged at your lips.
His pictures made you melt and sigh at the same time. That warm, contagious smil, the glasses that struck the perfect balance between hot and endearingly sweet. The silver threading through his beard that made you press your thighs together at the mere thought of feeling it against your skin, between your legs, specifically.
You swiped slowly through the rest of his photos. Those wide shoulders, that tall and solid frame, that soft belly under the button-down shirt… you wanted him in a way you had never wanted anyone before.
It was almost pathetic the way your heart did a little skip every time he complimented your work on a tough case. The way your thighs squeezed together almost involuntarily whenever he stepped in close during a complicated procedure, guiding you step by step, his voice low and patient near your ear. “Yeah, grab the blade like that… make a two-inch incision, softly, very gently.” “Hold the tube with your left hand, tight, don’t move it.”
It made your mind wander to dangerous places. Was he like that in bed too? The kind of man who talked you through it, calm and devastatingly attentive? In your fantasies, he absolutely was. Late at night, alone in this very bed with nothing but your hand and your imagination, you could almost hear his voice murmuring against your skin: “Keep your legs open for me, nice and wide… just like that.” “Look at you… already making such a mess. I’m gonna start with one finger, okay? Think you can be good and take it for me?”
Should you swipe right? It felt like the only logical choice. If he swiped left, which seemed like the most likely outcome, he would never even know you’d swiped on him. But if he did swipe right… then maybe, just maybe, you could end up in Robby’s bed.
Your hopes stayed low. Never in a million years did you actually expect Robby to be attracted to you the way you were to him. You would’ve noticed something by now, maybe in lingering stares, subtle flirting, or any shift in the way he treated you. But he didn’t. He treated you exactly like the rest of the residents: a young doctor he needed to teach, who could sometimes be frustratingly distracted.
Still, you couldn’t contain the tiny, thrilled scream that escaped your lips when the screen lit up:
It’s a Match!
Robby had matched with you. He wanted you too.
“Shit!” Robby dropped the phone onto the couch like it had burned him. It bounced once and landed face-up, the match confirmation still glowing on the screen. He and you had just matched on Tinder. All thanks to that goddamn bikini photo and his clumsy, nervous fingers.
He stared at it, feeling his heart hammering harder than it had during the worst trauma cases. This was mortifying. You’d seen his profile, you’d swiped right, and now you were going to see that he’d swiped right as well. Part of him, the tired and lonely part that had downloaded the app and widened the age range, wondered what you’d think.
A dozen what-ifs tumbled through his mind. What if you saw his profile and laughed? That disbelieving laugh when something genuinely surprised you. What if you messaged him first? Maybe it had been a mistake on your end too. Maybe your phone had slipped, or you’d been swiping too fast after a long shift, half-asleep and a little buzzed. Or maybe… maybe you’d swiped right on purpose, just to tease him. He could already picture the text popping up on his phone: “Oh my god, Dr. Robby. What are you doing on Tinder? lol.”
Robby ran both hands through his hair, exhaling sharply. He picked the phone back up, looking straight at the Send message button. He shouldn’t. The responsible thing would be to delete the app, pretend this night never happened, and go back to being your attending, not your Tinder match.
Instead, he opened your profile again. Robby tried to move past it, he really did, but his eyes lingered on that last photo far longer than they should have. You in a bikini, your skin glowing under warm sunlight. He couldn’t believe that was what you looked like underneath the baggy scrubs you wore every day in the ED.
It felt wrong. Like he wasn’t allowed to see you like this, like he was intruding on something deeply private, crossing a line that should never even be approached between an attending and his resident. Guilt twisted in his stomach, but it wasn’t enough to make him look away.
His body reacted anyway, a sudden heat stirring unwanted, a throb of arousal he hadn’t felt this sharply in longer than he cared to admit. He shifted uncomfortably on the couch, hating himself for it even as the reaction deepened. What the hell is wrong with you, Robby? he told himself, but the self-reproach did nothing to dull the pull. What could he do? You were a woman. A beautiful one, and for the first time, he was seeing you not just as his resident, but as someone undeniably, breathtakingly desirable.
Before he could delete his account and go to bed as he should, your message popped up.
You: hii :)
Robby’s breath hitched in his throat. For a split second, he swore his heart actually stopped. Then it slammed back into rhythm, pounding so hard he could feel it in his ears, in his temples, in the tightness of his chest. The little smiley face stared back at him from the screen, innocent and cheerful, as if it hadn’t just flipped his entire night upside down.
You had matched with him. At eleven at night. On his lonely fucking birthday. What the hell was he supposed to say to you at 11 pm. after accidentally matching with her on Tinder? “Hey, funny seeing you” here felt pathetic. “This is wildly inappropriate” felt like a lie because the rush of heat still lingering in his veins said otherwise.
He set the phone down on the coffee table for a moment, dragging a hand over his face for the millionth time. Part of him wanted to delete the match immediately, pretend it never happened, and go to bed like the responsible, professional attending he was supposed to be. But another part, the part that had been sitting alone on his fifty-fifth birthday, couldn’t bring itself to swipe left on this one unexpected connection. So he picked the phone back up and stared at the blinking cursor in the message box.
Another message came through a minute later.
You: robby? it’s me from work... guess you saw my profile too haha
Robby let out a long breath, he couldn’t avoid it now that you’d initiated a conversation with him. It was better to be direct, explain the mistake to you, and shut this down before it got any more awkward.
Robby: hey
yeah, I saw it
listen, this is embarrassing as hell, i was messing around with the app, dropped my phone and it must have swiped right by accident
sorry about that, didn’t mean to make things weird
He hit send and immediately regretted how cold it sounded, but it was the truth. The phone stayed quiet for a moment that stretched too long. He had his eyes fixed on the screen, waiting for your reply so he could shut down this awkward conversation and delete this stupid app before he accidentally matched with anyone else from work.
You: oh. so it was a mistake? damn, i thought you had swiped right on purpose. bummer.
Robby’s eyes widened. You were being direct, not beating around the bush or deflecting by saying it had been a mistake on your end as well. He could practically hear your voice saying it with a teasing edge.
Robby: Sorry about the confusion
i know it might be awkward finding me on here. probably the last person you expected, i don’t usually do this.
You: honestly it was surprising. didn’t peg you as the tinder type at all.
but hey, we all have our moments i guess
Robby: i’m not the type
this is my second time ever downloading it and i already regret it, should probably delete the whole thing before i make an even bigger fool of myself.
You: yeah i get it. i thought the match was mutual so i figured i’d say hi. sorry for texting if it was just an accident. didn’t mean to make it weirder
Robby read your message twice. Thought the match was mutual. The words echoed in his brain. You had swiped right on purpose, not as a joke, not out of morbid curiosity about your boss’s sad dating life. You had chosen him willingly. The realization of what that meant sent a confusing rush through him. You liked him, that had to be it. The thought of you… having a crush on him made a warm feeling run through his body, one he immediately tried to shove down.
Robby: What do you mean you thought it was mutual?
You: idk... i saw the notification and figured you wanted to match with me since it happened. that’s why i said hi right away. didn’t want to leave it hanging if we were both curious
He stared at the screen, his heart beating a little harder. You were so honest and blunt about your feelings, he found himself almost intimidated by it. Some rational part of his brain was trying to tell him this had to be a big joke, there was no way in hell you could like him. You were… you. What would you see in a man like him?
Robby: you wanted us to match? seriously?
You: lol yeah i did swipe right, didn’t i? your profile was actually really nice. the book pic is cute and the 70s rock mention made me smile. plus... i don’t know, you’re interesting. figured why not. no pressure though
Robby: i thought maybe you did it out of curiosity
or just to see if I’d swiped on you didn’t expect you to actually want that
You: well i did. but if it was an accident on your end then no big deal. we can pretend this never happened and go back to normal tomorrow. i won’t mention it at work or anything. promise
Robby let his head fall back against the couch, closing his eyes for a long moment as he exhaled heavily. He knew exactly what the responsible Chief of Emergency Medicine should do right now: unmatch immediately, delete his profile, and pretend the entire night had been nothing more than a lonely fever dream.
But tonight… tonight he didn’t want to be responsible. He didn’t want to be Dr. Robinavitch, the attending who had sacrificed nearly every personal connection, every version of a fuller life, on the altar of the ED. For once, he wanted to be Michael. Just Michael. The man who had matched with you on Tinder. The man who was currently staring at his phone with his heart hammering like he was twenty years younger.
Before he could piece together a polite but firm way to end the conversation and retreat back into the safety of professional distance, another message appeared.
You: i think your profile’s part of the reason i swiped right. the book pic’s really nice
He smiled faintly at that, a rare genuine twitch at the corner of his mouth. Robby leaned forward, placing his elbows on his knees.
Robby: your profile’s pretty good too, better than most of the ones i’ve seen tonight
You: aww thanks. your’s so much better than the usual bullshit on here which is not that hard to be
but still finding you here is a nice change :)
Robby: you on this app a lot? seems like you’ve got the profile down
You: not really. i’ve been on a couple dates from here but it’s honestly exhausting. hard to find someone decent in this city. most guys are either looking for hookups with zero conversation or they’re boring as hell. you know how it is
Robby: fair enough.
your age range must be set pretty high if it pulled me up
fifty five isn’t exactly the usual crowd for you or is it?
You: haha yeah well
i like older men
Those four stupid words hit him square in the chest like a defibrillator. “I like older men.” Robby reread them slowly, feeling a dangerous warmth bloom low in his belly and spread outward through his chest. He was an older man, and apparently, that fit exactly into your preferences. Was that flirtation? Were you subtly implying that he was the kind of older man you liked? Or was it just a casual, throwaway comment, something you’d say to any guy on the app who happened to have a few gray hairs?
No. He was spiraling too deep, overthinking it the way he always did. Your words didn’t carry some hidden, special meaning meant just for him. They couldn’t. And yet… No matter how hard he tried to talk himself down, he couldn’t ignore the flicker of validation that lit up inside him. He felt desired, really desired. Not just by anyone, but by you: someone younger, and so strikingly pretty it almost hurt to look at your photos for too long. Someone who, in his mind, was clearly way out of his league.
Robby: It’s okay to have preferences
everyone does.
You: yeah exactly. i just find older guys more attractive than the ones my age. they’re usually more mature, know what they want, have actual life experience. it’s... hotter, i guess. plus the conversations are better
He swallowed hard, feeling his throat suddenly dry. He could practically see your face as you typed those words, maybe biting your lower lip in that teasing way you sometimes did right after nailing a difficult procedure.
Then the bikini photo from earlier flashed unbidden through his mind, and the heat in his body flared hotter. He pictured you exactly as you’d looked in that shot: sun-warmed skin, curves barely contained by the fabric. The thoughts he had no right to entertain came rushing in anyway, pulling him deeper. Thoughts of having you all to himself, of finally being able to run his hands slowly over every inch of that bare skin, tracing the line of your waist, sliding up your ribs, cupping the soft weight of your breasts. Of putting his mouth on you and every sensitive spot until you were trembling beneath him.
Robby: makes sense
i usually go for women closer to my stage of life
we have more in common that way
You: do age gaps bother you?
Robby: in what way?
You: like as a concept. are they a problem for you?
Robby: i’m okay with consenting adults doing what they want
as long as everyone’s on the same page it’s not my business.
You: have you ever been in an age gap relationship or anything like that?
Robby: i once dated a woman a bit younger than me
but usually around my age
He paused before sending the next part, he shouldn’t keep engaging in this deeply unprofessional conversation, but curiosity was getting the better of him. And you were simply so easy to talk to that he couldn’t stop himself from letting his walls down a little.
He typed before he could second-guess himself.
Robby: how much older are we talking anyway?
the men you usually like i mean.
Your reply came fast, like you’d been waiting with the phone in hand.
You: usually over fifty up until their sixties or so. around that range. but it’s just a preference, nothing crazy. i feel like older men usually treat you better. they’re more gentlemanly, know how to actually listen, and they tend to understand what a woman wants... in every way, if you know what i mean ;)
Robby read the message twice. Three times. Four. Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck. Fuck me. You weren’t just being polite or making casual conversation. That winky face, the implication hanging there about “every way”. You were deliberately flirting with him, there was no other way to see it. He shifted on the couch, suddenly very aware of his own body and the fact that it had been a long damn time since anyone had spoken to him like that.
He took a slow breath and replied, trying to keep some semblance of control.
Robby: do you date men closer to your own age too?
or is it mostly the older crowd?
You: i have tried guys closer to my age. some of them are sweet but a lot are still figuring their shit out. you should try dating a woman younger than you sometime though. maybe it’s exactly what you need.
Robby didn’t know what to say. The words hung there, full of possibilities around them. He was still wrestling with a response when another message from you popped up.
You: anyway sorry again for the confusion earlier. i’ll leave you alone so you can keep scrolling through profiles. i’ll go back to robbing the graves haha (joke, get it? because i like older guys... sorry that was sooo bad)
Robby chuckled despite the whirlwind in his head. The joke was cheesy, so perfectly you that it cut through some of the tension. But it also gave him an out, you were offering to back off and let this weird moment fade into nothing before tomorrow’s shift made everything awkward as hell. Part of him wanted to take the exit ramp, wish you a good night, unmatch, delete the app, and pretend none of this happened. But another part, the one that had been sitting alone on his birthday didn’t want the conversation to end.
He tapped over to your photos again, almost against his will. There it was the last one. You on the beach in that bikini, with the perfect swell of your tits catching the sunlight. Holy fuck. He wanted you, the realization hit him all of a sudden, making him switch back to the chat and move his thumbs almost on autopilot.
Robby: Nothing to apologize for
honestly you’ve kept me better company tonight than I expected
You: see? younger women can be good company too :) you shouldn’t close the door so fast. you could meet someone nice if you give it a chance
Robby: you shouldn’t close the door on guys your own age either
there are decent ones out there, you’ll find someone who can keep up with you
You: out of all the guys i’ve matched with here... you’re easily the best one. no contest
Robby: Really? that can’t be right
you’re selling yourself short.
You: no i mean it. you’re exactly the kind of man i’d usually go for. tall, older, smart... and hot
The word hot hit him harder than it had any right to. His face flushed deeper, his clothes felt constricting, his pants uncomfortably tight. Robby’s cock was already half-hard, thickening and pulsing insistently against the zipper of his jeans with every new message.
All because you’d called him hot. Just a little cheeky, playful comment, and it was enough to unravel him. The touch starvation wasn’t helping. It had been so damn long since anyone had looked at him with real interest, longer still since he’d felt this fluttering feeling low in his stomach. This rush of ego, this sharp need to be close to someone, to be wanted, to touch and be touched.
Robby: thanks i guess
you’ll meet someone worth your time, you’re a good girl
The message was sent before he could fully reconsider the wording. The second it went through, Robby winced. It sounded weirdly sexually charged, maybe it was because he was feeling sexually charged, painfully so. A Freudian slip at its finest.
You: good girl? 😏
Robby: shit i didn’t mean it to sound weird
just a figure of speech i suppose.
You: should i call you daddy then? ;)
Robby nearly dropped the phone again. The winky face, the bold suggestion, the way it played so perfectly into the tension that had been building sent a bolt of pure want through him. He could imagine your voice saying it, teasingly so, with that mischievous glint in your eyes. His mind supplied far too many vivid images: you in nothing but your skin looking up at him, you saying it in person with a flirty smile. He was fully hard. Actually hard, just from a fucking text conversation.
The professional alarm bells were clanging loudly in the back of his head. This was his resident, the age gap, the power dynamic, the fact that you’d have to face each other at the Pitt in a few short hours... it was all wrong. But god, it felt good. For the first time in a long time, he didn’t feel quite so alone.
He glanced down at the obvious bulge in his sweatpants, his cock straining against the fabric like a flagpole. He couldn’t believe it. One flirty text from his resident and he was rock hard. Don’t get hard for your fucking resident, he thought. She’s one of your own. Off-limits. This is insane. He adjusted himself uncomfortably, trying to will it down through stubbornness, but the ache only sharpened.
You: too much? sorry i was just messing around lol
Robby exhaled and typed back, trying to sound more composed than he felt.
Robby: Don’t worry about it
i know it was a joke, no harm done
You: it was... unless you don’t want it to be a joke
He let out a surprised laugh, his cock twitched again at the follow-up, you were relentless, and something told him you were noewhere near done.
Robby: you’re funny, i’ll give you that.
You: that’s what i’ve been told. glad you’re having fun with me tonight
Robby: Well, I guess I should let you get some sleep
early shift tomorrow and all
You: i don’t mind staying up. i swiped right on you, remember? yk for a minute i really thought you were gonna flirt with me or maybe even ask me to come over to your place or something
The words hung there. You had been excited, you had hoped he would flirt. The image flashed through his mind, you showing up at his door in the middle of the night, stepping inside and… He shifted again, pressing his hand down against his insistent erection through his sweatpants, trying to get some relief even as guilt gnawed at him. This was crossing so many lines he’d promised himself he wouldn’t cross after Heather. But the loneliness that had driven him to download the app in the first place was quieter now, replaced by an electric tension.
Robby: that would be very inappropriate
i’m your boss and there are lines we can’t cross
You: but you’re not dr. robby my attending in here. you’re michael robinavitch, 55, the guy who loves 70s rock and long bike rides. and i’m not your resident in this chat. i’m just a girl who likes movies and older men... and who is really, really into you right now
You were separating the roles so cleanly, drawing a line between the hospital and this private space. It was tempting, dangerously tempting.
Robby: you know it doesn’t work like that
we can’t just turn it off when the shift starts tomorrow
You: nah i’m pretty sure i can
Robby: No.
You: If we really can’t meet then we can do it over text, you know.
He stared at the screen trying to guess if you really meant what you were saying.
Robby: what do you mean?
You: sexting, duh
He let out a short breath, Jesus fuck you were actually gonna kill him tonight.
Robby: that’s basically the same thing.
You: no it’s not. technically we’re not doing anything if it’s just messages. no one has to know.
Robby rubbed a hand over his jaw, his mind was screaming at him to shut this down, but his fingers were already moving. He couldn’t believe he was actually considering to do this.
This was a terrible idea. What difference did it really make whether it was real sex, his hands on you, feeling your heat around him, or just describing it in detail over text messages? A line was still a line. One he had promised himself he wouldn’t cross again. He didn’t want this to end with you giving up your residency, transferring to another hospital, another city, once things inevitably fell apart.
But fuck, his cock was achingly hard, straining against the front of his pants like a caged animal that desperately needed to be freed. The thought of you right now, maybe lying in your bed in, pressing your thighs together, that sweet slick already soaking through your panties because of him… it made it impossible to think straight. He couldn’t leave you like that, so wet, so needy, aching for him.
Robby: what do you want me to say?
You: i don’t know… just say something hot. you’re goot at being hot
He hesitated, he wasn’t sure of what to say. He was scared of seeming naive and old school to you, but he wasn’t used to this whole… sexting thing. The most spicy exchange over texts had been insinuating pictures before asking someone to come over. Okay think Robby, if you can save someone’s life under extreme preassure then you can sext with a woman, just say something typical, he thought
Robby: who’s been a naughty girl?
The second he hit send he regretted it. He winced, already typing another message to backtrack when your reply came through.
You: lmao that was the best you’ve got?
Robby groaned out loud, dropping his head back against the couch.
Robby: forget it. i’m going to bed
You: nooo wait. let’s try again :(
He should’ve put the phone down. He really should’ve. Instead he waited to see if you had anything else to say.
You: you’re so good at giving orders and guiding me at work. maybe you could do that now too? tell me what to do
You were right, in theory. He was good at instructing, guiding, teaching. It came naturally to him to step into that mentoring role, he had always been the one others looked to for direction.
Robby: i feel stupid doing this.
You: pleeeease. i’ve always thought you were the kind of guy who talks people through it in bed. it’s the same here, just write it instead of saying it. tell me how you want me to touch myself
Your words hit him hard. He reread the message twice. He had never consciously thought about it before, but yes… that did sound exactly like him. Fragments of memory surfaced unbidden: the commanding tone he’d used with past partners, the way he’d instructed them. “Open your legs for me.” “Turn around.” “Look at me.” He remembered the way their breathing would change, the way they’d tremble under the weight of his voice and his hands.
Robby: you really want me to talk you through it, sweetheart?
You: yessss that was so much better. keep going
If anyone had asked you how it happened, you honestly wouldn’t have been able to explain it. You weren’t even sure yourself. One moment you were typing a slightly embarrassed apology to Robby for matching with him and the next, the conversation had taken a turn and you were the one demanding he sext you so you could get off. It was bold, stupidly reckless, and yet it felt inevitable.
Robby: good girl that’s exactly what I wanted to hear, i want you to get those pretty legs spread nice and wide for me, can you do that?
You whimpered softly and obeyed him instantly, letting your knees fall farther apart on the mattress. The cool air hit your exposed pussy making you shiver.
You: yes. they’re open
Robby: Perfect
i’d be on my knees between them right now if I could
run your fingers up the inside of your thighs for me slowly, feel how soft they are
As you trailed your free hand up one thigh, you imagined his callused palms and the scratch of his greying beard following the same path.
You: doing it… feels so good thinking about your hands instead.
Robby: that’s my girl
now slide two fingers through your pussy and ell me how wet you are for me
You did exactly as he says, gasping as two fingers glided easily through your slick heat. You were soaked, embarrassingly so, the wet sounds filling the quiet bedroom as you stroked yourself.
You: So wet… i’m dripping. all because of you.
Robby: fuck i knew you would be
i want you to circle your clit for me now
Do it slowly and imagine it’s my tongue instead, licking you just the way you need
i’d take my time, taste every inch of you
Your mons got louder, tipping your head back against the pillows as your fingers obeyed, traxing circles around your clit that sent sparks up your spine. In your mind, it was Robby’s mouth devouring you while his strong hands pinned your thighs down.
Robby: how does that feel, sweetheart? tell me
You: so good, i’m so sensitive. keep talking please
Robby: Good
now slide one finger inside that tight pussy, nice and deep
curl it up just like I would, searching for that spot that makes your legs shake
i’d be watching your face the whole time, telling you how beautiful you look spread open for me, how good you are for listening
When you pushed a finger inside yourself, you curled it upward as instructed to hit that sensitive spot while your other hand kept working your clit in circles.
Robby: add another finger and stretch yourself open
i’d be so much thicker than your fingers, but we’ll start like this
imagine me pumping them in and out while i rub your clit
Adding a second finger, you continued fucking yourself to the rhythm of his words on the screen. It was not enough, it was nowhere near enough to calm the hunger and desperation that was threatening to consume your whole being. You knew nothing would be enough, only feeling him inside of you.
You: wish it was you inside me. can’t get off like this. i need you robby please
Robby: you were the one who told me to do this
You: i know i did. but it’s not enough
send me your address
He was tempted, so tempted that for one second his fingers almost started typing on an impulse. But the reality crashed back in immediately. The risks, the morning after, the way he’d have to look at you during rounds, knowing what you’d done. He was rock hard and aching for you, but the responsible part of him still refused to crumble completely.
Robby: what for?
you’re not seriously thinking about coming over right now, are you?
You: robby i’m literally only like 2 miles away from you. are you dtf? not as dr. robinavitch and his resident, but as two adults who casually matched on tinder tonight. there’s no title or hospital here. it’s just us.
Two miles. You were so close. He stared at your message, feeling his heart slamming against his ribs. His cock gave another insistent throb, the head already leaking a little against his underwear. The thought of you actually coming over, right now, in the middle of the night, made his mouth go dry.
Robby: Send me your address and I’ll order you a ride.
You sent your address a moment later. It really was only two miles away. He confirmed the ride, watching the estimated arrival time tick down. Fifteen minutes… only fifteen minutes until you’d be at his door.
You: this is exactly what i meant earlier about older guys. so much more gentlemanly. taking care of the details instead of just telling me to get there
You had no time to get ready, and honestly, you didn’t care. Makeup? Hair? None of that mattered when you were this desperate, this aching for him. You climbed out of bed still wearing the thin tank top and soft sleep shorts you’d worn to bed, and threw an oversized jacket over everything, one that swallowed most of your body and made you look far more put-together than you actually felt.
Your hands were shaking as you grabbed your keys and phone. The rideshare arrived sooner than you expected. The drive across the city felt both endless and far too short, but eventually the car pulled up outside his building.
You stood on the sidewalk for a second, staring up at the apartment complex, suddenly hit with the full weight of what you were doing, showing up at your attending’s door in the middle of the night, soaked and trembling with need, because a stupid Tinder match had spiraled completely out of control.
But you didn’t hesitate for long, you took a deep breath, pulled the jacket tighter around yourself, walked toward his door and knocked on it.
Robby opened it right away. He didn’t say a word, the second you were in reach, you had one of his strong hands cupping the back of your neck as he pulled you into a kiss. It was electric to say the least. His mouth claimed yours with a hunger that stole your breath. His beard was scraping deliciously against your skin as he moved his lips with experienced urgency. You melt into it instantly, fisting your hands in his shirt, tasting the pure, overwhelming taste of him. Finally. Here he was, kissing you like he’d been starving for it just as much as you had.
He kicked the door shut behind him without breaking the kiss, wrapping his other arm around your waist and pulling you flush against his taller frame. You felt the warmth of his hands roaming everywhere, gripping your hips, sliding up your sides, squeezing the curve of your ass through the fabric of your shorts. In your mouth, he groaned, making a vibrating sound that went through you as he explored every inch he could reach, like he was memorizing the feel of you.
Your breasts were the next to get his attention, he was cupping them with his big hands through your tank top, brushing his thumb over your already hard nipple, while he tangles his other hand in your hair, tilting your head to deepen the kiss.
You pulled back just enough to gasp against his lips, “It took you long enough.”
Robby chuckled, the sound coming out breathless. “Took you long enough. You have any idea what it’s like waiting twenty minutes for you with a hard-on?” He pressed you closer, letting you feel the thick and insistent bulge against your stomach.
As if they had a mind of their own, his hands couldn’t stop moving, squeezing, caressing, claiming, running down your back, over your thighs, everywhere he’d fantasized about touching. Before you could respond, he bent slightly and lifted you effortlessly. You wrapped your legs around his waist instinctively.
The strength in his arms, the way his broad chest felt against you, sent a fresh rush of heat between your legs. He carried you through the house with purposeful strides. The door to your room swung open and he layed you gently on the bed, climbing on top of you immediately until his full weight pressing you deliciously into the mattress.
The kissing resumed instantly, slower now but no less intense. Robby’s mouth was moving from your lips to your neck, sucking lightly and scratching you with his beard in the most perfect way. Now his hands got bolder, continuing their exploration but this time sliding under your tank top, pressing his palms against your bare skin. He lifted the fabric higher, exposing your breasts to the cool air of the room.
“Fuck,” Robby groaned, and maybe it was your mind playing tricks on you, but you could see his soft brown eyes turning darker as he stared down at you. “Look at you. These tits… so perfect. So fucking pretty.” His voice was rough with want, the same commanding tone. He cupped them reverently, as if they were something precious, circling your nipples until they pebbled tighter under his touch. “They’re made for my hands. For my mouth.”
He leaned down and took one nipple into his mouth, sucking it gently at first, then harder, swirling his tongue around the sensitive peak. The wet touch of his tongue made you arch into him with a moan, threading your fingers through his hair as he kept lavishing attention on your breasts.
From one side to the other, Robby switched sides, licking and sucking the other while his hand massaged the first, rolling the nipple between his fingers. The dual sensation, the tingly heat of his mouth and the firm squeeze of his callused hand, had you writhing beneath him, making you so wet you were soaking through your shorts.
The humming of his mouth against your skin sends sparks straight to your core. “So responsive,” he murmured, switching back to the first breast and sucking it harder than before. “These tits are going to ruin me. I could spend hours right here.” Sliding his free hand down your side, Robby gripped your hip possessively, continuing with the worshipping of your chest, licking broad stripes, sucking marks into the soft flesh, massaging and kneading until he had you panting and grinding up against the hard line of his cock through his pants.
The age difference between you only heightened everything, his experience was showing in every skilled touch, in every perfect flick of his tongue. He was being patient but hungry, like he’d been holding back for far too long. You could feel how hard he was, he was making you feel it, pressing insistently against your thigh. The knowledge that you did this to him made you even wetter.
Robby lifts his head briefly to lock his eyes on yours. His lips were swollen and his beard slightly damp with his saliva. “Tell me if it’s too much,” he said, but his hands never stopped, squeezing and caressing, teasing your sensitive nipples with his thumbs as he waited for your answer.
You shook your head, pulling him back down. You’d rather die than stop right now. “Don’t stop. Please.”
His mouth trailed a hot path down your sternum, over your stomach, scraping you teasinglywith his beard against your skin and leaving a trail of goosebumps in its wake. His hands followed strong, sliding down your sides and gripping your hips as he settled between your spread thighs. The weight of him, the sheer size and presence of this man, made your core clench with anticipation.
“These shorts have been teasing me since you walked in,” he murmured with the same steady tone he used in the pitt, but now turned intimate and commanding. Robby hooked his fingers into the waistband and slowly peeled them down your legs, taking his time as he revealed more of you. “Lift your hips for me, sweetheart. Good girl.”
You obeyed instantly, lifting your hips so he could slide the fabric off completely, leaving you in just your thin panties and the tank top. Robby smoothed his hands up your thighs, spreading them wider with gentle but firm pressure. “Keep your legs open like that,” he instructed you. “Nice and wide for me. Don’t close them unless I tell you to.”
You were already moaning softly, and he wasn’t even touching your core yet. Robby dropped his eyes to the damp spot on your panties, making the fabric cling to your pussy lips, and he let out a groan of desire and hunger. He cupped you over the fabric with one hand, pressing his palm firmly against your heated pussy while his thumb found your clit through the material and began rubbing slow circles.
“Oh god,” you moaned, twitching up your hips into his touch, seeking more of the contact. The friction was simply perfect, it was teasing, and it kept building higher and higher. Robby’s callused thumb was applying just the right pressure on your swollen nub.
He watched your face intently through his hooded and lustful eyes as he worked you higher. “Feel good?” he asked, trying to keep his voice steady even as his own breathing grew heavier. “You’re so wet already. Soaking through these panties for me. That’s it… rock against my hand, sweetheart. Show me how much you need this.”
Your moans only grew louder and more unrestrained, as he kept rubbing your clit with precision. The fabric added a delicious layer of friction, and every circle sent sparks shooting up your body. He got you gripping the sheets, your thighs already trembling as you fought the urge to close them around his hand.
Robby leaned down to kiss the inside of one thigh, scratching your skin deliciously. “You want my mouth? Want me to taste this pretty pussy? You gonna wrap these gorgeous legs around my neck while I do it?”
“Yes,” you gasped, nodding frantically. “Please, Robby. I need it.”
He hooked his fingers into your panties and tugged them down slowly, revealing your glistening, bare pussy to his hungry gaze. “Fuck… look at you. So wet and perfect.” He kissed along your inner thighs, taking his time, brushing his lips and beard against the sensitive skin as he worked his way closer. “Wrap them around me, sweetheart. Lock your ankles behind my head if you need to. I want to feel you holding me right where I belong.”
You did exactly as he said, wrapping your legs around his broad shoulders and pressing your heels into his upper back. The position left you completely open to him, vulnerable and exposed. Robby groaned, the sound vibrating against your core as he finally leaned in.
The first lick of his tongue was broad and slow, dragging from your entrance up to your puffy clit. The sensation was overwhelming, and it made you cry out loudly, threading your fingers into his greying hair as he began to devour you with the same intensity he brought to every procedure at work. He licked and sucked with precision, alternating between long and flat strokes to tight and quick circles around your clit.
His beard was scratching your inner thighs and outer lips in the most delicious way, adding a kind of texture that made your toes curl. “Robby… Oh fuck, that feels so good,” you moaned, rolling your hips against his mouth.
He hummed in response, pulling back with his lips glistening with your arousal just so he could speak to you. “Tell me how it feels, sweetheart. I want to hear it.”
“So good… your tongue—oh god, your mouth, Robby. It’s driving me crazy. Don’t stop, please.”
“You’re being so good for me,” he praised, diving back in to suck your clit into his mouth, flicking it rapidly while applying suction with his lips.
Before you could register it, he teased your entrance with two thick fingers, slowly sliding them inside you, letting your own greedy hole swallow them. Once he curled them upward to find that perfect spot, the sensation had you moaning loudly and arching off the bed.
Robby pumped his fingers steadily, matching the rhythm of his tongue with his digits. A few moments later, he stopped again briefly, looking up at you with lust-filled eyes and shiny lips. “You’re so fucking beautiful like this. Spread open for me, taking my fingers so well. This pussy is perfect, made for me. Keep moaning for me. Let me hear how much you love my mouth on you.”
You obeyed, your moans spilling freely as he returned to his task with renewed hunger. The pleasure built fast and faster, making your thighs tremble around his head and your feet dig into his back as you held him exactly where you needed him. Robby gripped your hip with his free hand, holding you steadily while he worked you closer and closer to the edge with expert skill. Every command, every praise, every flick of his tongue pushed you higher.
Robby didn’t relent, he kept his mouth latched onto your clit, sucking with rhythmic pressure, devouring you like a man starved. “Robby—oh fuck, yes!” The pleasure was overwhelming, every single nerve ending in your body was alight as he worked you higher.
“Keep those legs open for me, sweetheart,” he growled against your clit. “Don’t you dare close them. I want to feel you squeezing around my fingers while I eat this pretty pussy.” He added a third finger slowly, stretching you wider, the burn blending perfectly with the pleasure. “That’s it… take three for me. Feel how full you are? You’re doing so well. Such a good girl taking everything I give you.”
The wet sounds of his fingers plunging into your dripping pussy and his mouth sucking hungrily on your clit filled the air. You were soaking his beard, his chin, his wrist, but he didn’t care. Robby slid a hand under you, grabbing a firm handful of your ass and lifting your hips slightly off the bed. The new angle let him bury his face even deeper, working your clit with more precision while he fingerfucked you harder. “Just like that,” he praised you between licks. “Grind on my tongue, baby. Use my mouth. Show me how bad you need to come.”
You obeyed helplessly once again, rolling your hips and bucking them against him as the coil in your belly tightened unbearably. The pleasure built in powerful waves until your thighs started to shake violently around his head. Robby kept talking you through it, pushing you closer to the edge.
“You’re getting so close, aren’t you? I can feel this tight pussy clenching around my fingers. Come on, let go. Cum all over my tongue. I want to taste it. I want to feel you fall apart for me.”
The orgasm crashed over you with blinding intensity, making your back bow off the bed, a loud and broken cry tearing from your throat as your pussy spasmed hard around his digits. Your thighs were squeezing his head tightly, your heels digging into his back as wave after wave of pleasure ripped through you. Robby didn’t stop though, he kept sucking your clit through the peak, curling and thrusting his fingers to draw out every last shudder.
You came harder than you ever had. So hard that your vision went white for a moment as the pleasure bordered on overwhelming. Your moans turned into whimpers as the orgasm slowly ebbed, leaving you limp and gasping on the bed.
Robby finally eased back, gently lowering your hips and kissing softly along your inner thighs. He looked up at you with dark and satisfied eyes. “That’s my girl,” he murmured. “So beautiful when you cum for me.”
You lay there panting, your thighs were still twitching, completely wrecked and already aching for more of him. Robby climbed back up your body, kissing you deeply so you could taste yourself on his tongue. He was so close that his hard cock was pressing insistently against your thigh through his pants.
“That was… amazing,” you whisper with your voice hoarse from moaning. “So much better than I ever imagined.”
Robby chuckled softly, the sound warm and genuine against your neck as he pressed a kiss there. “Yeah? Better than your hand?” His eyes were sparkling with lust.
You laughed breathlessly, nodding. “So much better. Your mouth… God, Robby. I’ve never felt anything like that.”
He hummed in satisfaction, grinding his still-clothed erection slowly against your bare, sensitive pussy. The thick ridge of his cock was being pressed perfectly against your clit, giving him some much needed relief while teasing you both. “I loved doing that for you,” he murmured. “You were so good for me, sweetheart. So responsive, so wet. The way you moaned my name and squeezed my head with those pretty thighs… fuck, you have no idea what you do to me.”
Robby rolled his hips deliberately, the friction making you whimper and arch up into him. You could feel how achingly hard he was and how much he’d been holding back. You slid up your hands down his chest, feeling the soft flesh beneath his shirt.
“I want you,” you breathed, looking up at him with need. “Please, Robby.”
He stilled for a moment, as if to pulling himself together. “Tell me what you want. Be specific.”
You bit your lip, feeling the warmth invade your cheeks. “Your cock. I want you to fuck me. I need you inside me.”
Robby let out a groan, sitting back on his knees between your spread thighs. He reached for the waistband of his sweatpants, drawing out the anticipation. You sit up slightly, eager to help, moving your fingers to tug his pants down along with his underwear.
“I’ve been dying to see you,” you confessed as you pulled his pants down his hips. He caught your wrists before you could push his boxers down.
Robby looked almost nervous, a faint flush creeping up his neck. “Wait… I, uh—” He cleared his throat, flicking his eyes away for a second. “I haven’t trimmed down there in a while. This whole night was… unexpected. I would’ve cleaned up if I’d known we were gonna end up here.”
He said it like it was something to be embarrassed about. Like it might actually make you want him less. It made you soft, you cupped his jaw, turning his face back to yours.
“Robby. Do you honestly think I give a damn about that? It’s just hair.”
He let out a self-conscious breath, still looking a little defensive. “I know. I know it’s just hair. It’s just… it’s probably a fucking jungle down there right now. You don’t have to— I mean, you don’t have to do anything if it’s too much.”
The way he was trying to give you an out was almost painfully endearing. You shook your head. “Just let me see you,” you whispered.
You slid his boxers down his thighs and freed his cock, it sprang out, thick and hard, the head flushed in a dark red with arousal. It was beautiful, so long, girthy, with a slight upward curve, prominent veins running along the shaft. Exactly like he’d warned, there was a thick, dark mat of coarse hair at the base, dense and untrimmed. He looked completely natural, it was so him, deeply masculine and unpolished.
A fresh rush of wetness slipped down your inner thighs. Your fingers twitched with the need to touch him there.
You looked up at him through your lashes “I love it,” you slowly carded your fingers through the thick hair at the base of his member. “You look so fucking hot like this. I like every single inch of you.”
Robby’s whole body shivered under your touch. “God…” he rasped as he stared down at you. “You’re gonna kill me tonight.”
Almost with instinct, you wrapped your hand around it, stroking the shaft slowly from base to tip, feeling the heat and weight of his member.
Robby hissed in pleasure, twitching his hips forward into your grip as he watched your hand move up and down his cock. “Fuck, your hand feels good,” he groaned, letting you stroke him for a while, savoring the sight of your smaller hand working his thick length, making a bead of precum leak from the tip.
After a few moments, he gently stopped you, wrapping his fingers around your wrist. “Lay back down for me, sweetheart. Keep those legs open nice and wide. Just like before.”
You obeyed, lying back against the pillows and spreading your thighs for him. Robby reached over toward the nightstand, stretching one arm past you as he pulled open the top drawer. He rummaged through it for a few seconds, before his hand closed around what he was looking for.
A moment later he sat back, a condom held between his fingers. He held it up, searching for your eyes with his. “I’ve got this if you want me to wear it.”
You shook your head, reaching up to touch his arm. “No. I want you bare. I’m on the pill.”
You both knew it might not have been the smartest option, doing it raw, with nothing between you. But there was a deep, unspoken trust between the two of you, forged through long shifts, that made you feel safe. And in that moment, that trust felt solid enough to lean on.
The hunger that had taken over both of you made anything else almost unbearable. The need to feel each other completely bare, skin on skin, heat on heat, with nothing separating you, was overwhelming.
“Fuck, you’re gonna kill me.” He tossed the condom aside, leaning down to kiss you deeply again. “You’re sure?”
“I’m sure,” you whispered against his lips. “I want to feel all of you.”
He groaned, positioning himself between your legs and nudging the thick head of his cock against your slick entrance. The anticipation felt electric, this was the culmination of over a year of longing, of hours of texts, and now all that was left was this desperate connection. Robby gripped your thighs, spreading you wider as he looked down at you with hunger.
The night is only beginning, and the way he’s looking at you promises he’s going to take his time ruining you in the best possible way.
As his cockhead was being rubbed up and down your folds, teasing your clit with every pass, coating itself with your juices, the sensation felt maddening, promising everything you’d fantasized about for so long. You whimpered, twitching your hips up instinctively to chase more contact.
“Eyes on me, sweetheart,” Robby commanded you softly, the same authoritative tone that had guided you through countless procedures was now guiding you through this. He cupped your chin gently, tilting your face so your gazes locked. “Keep looking at me the whole time. I want to see you while I fuck you.”
You nodded shakily, unable to look away even if you wanted to. Robby continued rubbing the head of his cock against your entrance, coating himself in your wetness, drawing out the anticipation until you were squirming beneath him.
“That’s it,” he whispered against your mouth. “So wet for me already. This pussy is going to take me so well. Breathe for me, relax and let me in.” He pressed forward slowly, breaching your entrance with only the tip. The stretch was immediate and intense, opening you up inch by inch as he sank deeper. Your mouth fell open in a silent moan, but you forced your eyes open, locking them on his as he watched every flicker of pleasure cross your face.
“Easy, baby,” he cooed, stroking your thigh soothingly while the other braced beside your head. “You’re doing so good. Feel how you’re stretching around me? So tight and warm… fuck, you feel incredible.”
You moaned loudly as he continued sliding in, the deliberate thrust filling you completely until he was buried to the hilt, until his hips were flushed against yours. The fullness was overwhelming, his thick cock stretching your walls like nobody had stretched you before, pressing against every sensitive spot inside you.
Robby stayed still for a moment buried deep, resting his forehead against yours as he looked straight into your eyes. “There you go. All the way in. You took every inch.” He started to thrust with deep rolls of his hips that drag his cock along your walls with exquisite friction. “Wrap your legs around me. Hold me close while I fuck you.”
You did as he said, locking your legs around his waist and digging your heels into his lower back. The new angle let him sink even deeper, and you cried out in pleasure, digging your nails into his shoulders. Robby kept talking you through it, just like he knew you liked.
“That’s my girl. Feel that? I’m hitting that spot inside you, huh?” He angled his hips slightly, grinding deep on every stroke. Robby slid one hand up to cup and squeeze your breast, rolling your nipple as he thrusted harder.
Robby moved his hand from your breast to cup your chin. His grip was gentle enough not to hurt, yet firm enough that you felt every one of his fingers pressing against the bones of your jaw. “Look at me. Don’t look away. I want to see how good my cock feels inside this tight pussy.” He tilted your face up and held it there, leaving you no choice but to meet his eyes.
And God… what a glorious sight he was. This handsome man, with his face flushed, his brow glistening with sweat, devouring you with his gaze as he kept driving his cock into you.
His face was only inches from yours, and he kept fucking you in long strokes while he held your chin like that, as if he were starving for every single expression that crossed your face. He loved watching the way pleasure wrecked you. The way your lips parted around helpless moans, the way you bit down on your lower lip only for it to slip free again with a broken sound. The way your eyes went glassy and pleading, silently begging him for more even as your body trembled around his cock. He drank it all in like a man who had been thirsty for years.
With his free hand, he gripped your waist, holding you in place so he could drive into you with more power. Every slide of his cock stretched you perfectly, dragging the fat tip along your g-spot like that was what it was made for.
“Robby—oh god, yes!” You moaned loudly, raising your hips to meet his thrust and tightening your legs around him. Your tits were bouncing with every powerful stroke, and he leaned down to suck one nipple into his mouth again, flicking his tongue as he continued fucking you.
“You feel so good,” he groaned against your skin, switching to the other breast. “So tight and wet around me. This pussy was made for my cock, wasn’t it? Taking me so deep.” His hand on your waist slid down to grip your ass, lifting your hips slightly to change the angle as he thrusted harder. “Lift your legs higher for me, sweetheart,” he said against your neck,kissing and nipping the sensitive skin there. Ronny held the back of your thigh, helping guide your leg up. “That’s it… over my shoulder. Let me get deeper.”
You whimpered as he assisted you, hooking your leg over his shoulder. He did the same with the other, folding you nearly in half beneath him. The new angle allowed him to sink impossibly deeper, until he was pressing the head firmly against that perfect spot inside you with every thrust, grinding against your g-spot relentlessly.
“Fuck—Robby, it’s so deep like this,” you moaned, fluttering your eyes shut for just a moment as the intense sensation washed over you.
“Ah-ah-ah,” he chided gently but firmly, cupping your jaw with his hand to tilt your face back to his. “Eyes on me, sweetheart. Keep them open. I want to watch you while I fuck you like this. Don’t look away.”
You forced your eyes open, locking onto his hungry gaze as he continued hammering into you. The eye contact made everything more intimate and overwhelming. The feeling of his hand leavinf your jaw and sliding down between your bodies made you shiver. Robby found your swollen clit and began rubbing tight circles in time with his thrusts.
The combined stimulation was devastating. The pleasure was burning higher in your core, so close to finally exploding. Your body was arching and squirming beneath his frame as you scratched down his back and trembled over his shoulders. Every thrust, every rub of his fingers on your clit, every moan and grunt that escaped his mouth pushed you closer to the edge.
“That’s it,” Robby groaned, never removing his sight from yours. “Look at you taking my cock so deep. You’re getting close again, aren’t you? I can feel it. Cum for me, baby. Let me feel you cum all over my cock. Keep your eyes on me when you do.”
You bowed your back off the bed as your climax took over your body. A loud cry tore from your throat as your pussy clenched rhythmically around his length. Your thighs shook violently over his shoulders and you dug your nails harder into his back when the waves of pleasure crashed through you. Robby sekpt thrusting through it, drawing out your orgasm with deep strokes and continued pressure on your clit.
“You look so beautiful when you cum for me… that’s it, sweetheart. Give it all to me. You’re being so good.”
By the time he finally slowed and gently pulled out of you, you were still trembling and gasping. Robby layed back on the bed beside you, with his cock hard and glistening with your release. “Come here, baby,” he said. “Get on top. I want to watch you ride me.”
He helped you shift positions, gripping your hips firmly to guide you as you straddled him. “Easy, sweetheart. Take your time… that’s it. Feel me right there? Let me watch you take every inch.”
You positioned the head at your slick entrance and began to sink down, inch by inch. The stretch was intense all over again, his girth opening you up as you lowered yourself onto him. Robby kept his hands still on your hips to steady you, stroking your skin soothingly while watching every expression on your face.
“Fuck, look at that,” he groaned. “You’re doing so well. Keep going… take a little more. Feel how full you are?”
Louder moans left your mouth as you sank lower, the fullness was overwhelming in the best way. Bracing your hands on his broad chest for balance, you finally took him to the hilt, resting your ass against his thighs. Robby squeezed your hips encouragingly. “Ride me. Roll your hips like that… yes, just like that.”
Whn you started moving, rolling, and grinding your hips in a steady rhythm, the pleasure built quickly. His cock was dragging along your walls as you found a rhythm that made your tits bounce and your clit grind against his pelvis.
Robby kept moving his eyes are everywhere, watching where your pussy stretched around his shaft, sliding up to your bouncing breasts, then locking onto your face. He reaches up with both hands, cupping your tits and rolling your nipples as you ride him.
“You’re so fucking beautiful. You’re doing so well, sweetheart. Keep going… faster if you want. Take what you need from me.”
Without a word, you grabbed the hem of his shirt and tugged it upward. He sat up just enough to help you pull it off, and the second the fabric cleared his head, your hands were on him.
God, you loved his body. Your moved your palm slowly over his chest, feeling the coarse hair and the thud of his heart beneath your fingertips. You dragged your hands lower, mapping the soft, rounded curve of his belly with desire. It turned you on more than any gym-honed torso ever could. As you pressed your palms into the softness, your fingers dag in gently. Then you smoothed your hands over it again and again, savoring the way it yielded under your touch.
You were mumbling praises and moans between gasps, completely lost in the sensation. “Robby… you feel so good… so deep… fuck, I love your cock inside me…”
At one point, Robby planted his feet firmly on the bed, bent his knees, and started thrusting up to meet you. The change felt devastating, he was now fucking you from below with powerful strokes that made you cry out loudly as he droveinto you.
The slap of skin on skin grew louder when the slamming into you intensified. “Fuck—Robby!” you moaned, letting your head fall back as the pleasure overwhelmed you.
“Eyes on me if you can, sweetheart,” he growled, moving his fingers down to rub your clit again. “I’m getting close. You feel too good. You’re gonna make me cum.”
You were a moaning and squirming mess on top of him, riding and grinding as he thrusted up harder. His fingers on your clit and his cock hitting deep pushed you toward another peak, but it was his impending orgasm that had you focused on him.
“I’m gonna cum,” he groaned, snapping his hips up faster. “Fuck—can I cum inside you? Please, I want to fill you up.”
“Yes,” you gasped, riding him desperately. “Cum inside me, Robby. I want it. Fill me up. Please—”
With a deep groan, Robby thrusted up hard one last time and came, pulsing nside you, flooding your pussy with thick and warm ropes of cum. He held you down on him, gripping your hips tightly as he emptied himself completely. The feeling of him cumming inside you, fully claiming you, triggered your own smaller orgasm, making your walls clench rhythmically around his pulsing cock.
You both stayed locked together, panting. Robby stroked your back and thighs as you came down from the high befor pulling you down against his chest, kissing your forehead, keeping his cock still buried deep inside you as his release slowly leaked out around him, so much that you could feel the hot nd sticky evidence of his climax.
There were no more walls, just the two of you, finally giving in to everything you’ve both wanted and repressed for so long. You stayed draped on top of Robby for a long stretch of time, both of you catching your breath as the intensity slowly ebbed. Eventually, you lifted your head and looked at him. “That was… amazing. I wouldn’t even have dreamed that it’d be that good.”
He hummed in agreement, continuing his soothing path along your back. “It was. Better than I let myself imagine. You felt perfect.”
The praise made a warm feeling bloom in your chest. After a few more quiet moments, Robby gently helped you sit up, easing you off his cock with a shared sigh. You both winced slightly at the loss of connection and the feeling of emptiness, but he pulled you down beside him on the bed, wrapping his arms around you again as you cuddled into his side.
“So… you don’t regret it, do you?”
He met your eyes as a small smile began tugging at his lips beneath the beard. “Right now? I can’t regret having amazing sex with you. My mind is still somewhere up in the clouds.” He pressed a soft kiss to your forehead. “I don’t know what will happen tomorrow when reality hits, but tonight… no regrets.”
You nestled closer, throwing one leg over his. The cuddling felt easy, natural, like you’d been doing this for years. For tonight, the outside world, the hospital, the guilt, the what ifs didn’t exist. There was only the two of you, and Robby might be right about reality hitting tomorrow, but right now, in the darkness of his room, everything felt right.
A/N: Two attempts at posting this fic, and two times Tumblr’s stupid AI mistakenly flagged it😭 I’ve spent days trying to figure out what was causing the problem and doing everything I could to finally get this fic posted for all of you. So if you’re reading this, it means it worked. Hopefully.
If you end up enjoying the fic, I’d really appreciate it if you could help me share it with a reblog (only if you enjoyed the fic) cause I’ve put a lot of work on it
Well, I hope you enjoyed this little something I worked on when inspiration finally struck me. I don’t know if I read it somewhere or if we all collectively decided it, but Robby absolutely feels like the type of guy who talks you through it. You’re telling me the man who spends all day teaching med students and residents how to do procedures wouldn’t also be guiding his girl in bed? It’s literally in his nature!!! This TikTok also got me inspired because, yes, he absolutely looks at you through it too.
I also think Robby’s canon texting style is weirdly inconsistent. In that scene in season one where he’s texting Jake, sometimes he starts messages with capital letters and sometimes he doesn’t. Sometimes he ends sentences with a period, sometimes he doesn’t. In my head, he has perfect grammar but deliberately tries to sound Gen Z and chill when he’s texting someone younger than him lol. Anyway, I tried to replicate that here too.
Thank you all so much for your patience. I really appreciate it, and I hope I can stick around for good this time🩷
summary: after sleeping with robby, you finally break up with derrek without telling him the real reason you're leaving him. when you face him again at a party, Robby is keen on showing him the real reason why you broke up.
⤷ based on this request
tags/desc: 18+ MDNI, no use of y/n, fem!reader, AFAB!reader, young!robby, med student!robby, sleazy!robby, college/med school AU, established friends with benefits, mentions of cheating. smut, groping, make out, mild exhibitionism on robby's end (not during sex, only while kissing and groping), semipublic sex/bathroom sex, unprotected piv (no hat no cat!!), fingering, slight choking, petnames (sweetheart, baby, etc)
wordcount: 3.4k
part 1
a/n: i dont go to large parties so spare me if i didnt catch the vibe right LMAOOOOO this was actually so fun to write highkey the request was so helpful send more pleak!!!! #livelaughlovemedstudentrobby | requests are open—!! reblogs are a writers best friend
The break up with Derrek was far from ideal. After that late night with Robby, you battled with yourself to come clean to your boyfriend. It was the right thing to do, for him and your conscience. But that kind of pain, of knowing your girlfriend cheated on you, would be unbearable. For days you avoided him like the plague, just to hide the guilty expression that was stitched to your face.
Right at the 4 month tip of your relationship with Derrek, you gathered what courage you had left to lay it on him gently.
“Derrek it’s not going to work out anymore, I-I really think we should break up.” You confess through tight lips. His wide eyes drooped low as tears well onto his face.
You thought time had slowed down with how long the conversation between the two of you went on. He pleaded for a better explanation, there had to be something more than the same old ‘it’s not you it’s me’ excuse. What could he do to give you guys another fighting change, he’ll change for you in any way that he could. The rational side of you said to just tell him everything, give him the proper closure you would want for yourself. It was too painful to give him the honest truth. How else were you supposed to tell him that you cheated on him with the friend he was worried about in a way that wouldn’t completely break him.
“Did Robby put you up to this? That guy has always had it out for me.” You shake your head, keeping your lips locked with the dirty secret you would hold on to for as long as you could. And it was enough for him to believe you.
Maybe blaming Robby would make it easier for you, take more of the guilt off your shoulders. But that wouldn’t be right, because you were fully to blame for cheating. Robby gave you the choice to say no, but you so eagerly gave in. Robby had no active part in your decision to break up with Derrek. He didn’t convince you or badger you to come clean. Robby left all that hard work up to you. He knew you wouldn’t be happy with him if he went on an anti-Derrek parade. His presence alone was enough to remind you of all the wrong you did, and how little you ended up regretting it. You regret nothing about the feeling of Robby deep inside you, riding a pace that brought you to an orgasm that would have been a long lost friend, had he not been so kind to give you the release that you deserve. If Robby treated you like any of his other flings, fuck and forgot all about you, it would of been easier to recover and stay with Derrek.
But nothing had deteriorated between you and Robby. If anything, it drew him closer to you. He is extra tender in the month after your breakup. Sweeter kisses and a softer voice during your low moments. Compensating for being partially to blame. So kind in offering his shoulder to cry on during the aftermath of the breakup, and a cock to ride on when you were feeling extra lonely. You told him that this didn’t mean you were pursuing him, and he agreed. Just a formal agreement between two best friends to be there for each other in every kind of need. The long way of saying that the two of you slowly became friends with benefits.
But hey— at the end of the day, you’re finally able to have the kind of sex you want.
You’re not sure whose dorm this is. All you know is, after a strenuous lecture, a classmate invited you and Robby to someone’s dorm room for a small get together in your building. In reality, it’s a party in violation of several housing rules. Loud bass almost penetrating the walls, any flat surface covered in red solo cups, a lingering stench of weed, and more than enough people inside to constitute a fire hazard.
Robby, being an RA and all, could not care less. Not my floor, not my problem; but really who is in charge of this floor, this should have been shut down a long time ago.
Robby disappears somewhere into the bustle, finding an acquaintance to catch up with. You wind your way through the room, occasionally having to apologize for bumping into someone's shoulder. You park yourself at the makeshift bar; an overcrowded kitchen counter with copious amounts of open liquor bottles. Grabbing a cup and pouring the first thing you could get your hands on into a cup. You earned this drink after the month you’ve had. Before the plastic rim can touch your lips, a voice calling out your name over loud music grabs your attention. A voice all too familiar that the blaring song wasn’t covering up enough.
Derrek
What is he even doing here, he doesn’t live in this building!
You whip yourself around to face him, his figure darkened by the dim lights and store bought neon lights. You can almost make out his weakened face, relieved to see you for the first time in weeks.
“How are you doing?” He asks.
“‘M ok Derrek, what about you?” Now why would you ask him that.
Derrek goes into an uncomfortably long tangent about his life. Classes, working his internship, how down he’s been, how his friends brought him out to this party to make him feel better. Pressing your lips together and fiddling with the cup in your hand, you wished to be anywhere but here now. The guilt that had finally started to fade was building back up again. Derrek is still oblivious to the real reason you broke up with him. Had he known the real reason, he would have probably gone out of his way to avoid you too. Or maybe not look at you with those sad, puppy dog eyes. It made your heart twist in a way that could have caused real heart palpitations.
“I miss you… a lot.” The exact words you really could not hear right now. “Are you here with anyone? Maybe we can sit and talk about—”
“Hey, don’t think you can run away from me that quickly.” Like Superman, Robby saves you from drowning in this conversation any longer. Sliding right next to you, wrapping his arm around your shoulder. Giving your shoulder a protective squeeze. He is really making a show of it, keeping an arrogant smile and narrowing his eyes on Derrek.
“Oh, what’s up Devon?”
“It’s Derrek…”
“Right, my bad…” Robby, that smug bastard, knew exactly what he’s doing.
During your break up, Robby never got the chance to gloat in Derrek’s face. You had to beg him not to, not wanting to even think about Derrek or make it worse. Secretly, Robby had been dreaming of the moment. His taller frame looming over Derrek, reminding him he wasn’t good enough to satisfy you. Show off in how he succeeded in where Derrek failed. Put him in his place and send him packing. But, Robby’s a great friend, and kept his distance.
“Sorry to hear about your guy’s break up… Don’t worry, I’ve been keeping my girl company.” he reassures with a wink. My girl, reminding Derrek who you really belonged to.
And before Derrek is able to get another word in, Robby is already dragging you away to the designated dance floor.
“Nice talking to you Derran! Let’s go dance.” Tangling his fingers with yours and pulling you away from the scariest five minutes of your life. Leaving poor Derrek there, alone with his own suspicions. Narrowing his eyes in your direction, the gears ever so slowly turning.
Robby manages to drag you into a marginally crowded space on the ‘dance floor’ (the open space where a coffee table used to sit between the couch and TV). Letting his hands fall lazily to your hips, making himself known on your body. He starts to sway with the music, lightly guiding you to do the same. Had Robby not been so heroically by your side, you would have felt the burning stare of Derrek’s eyes on your back. Robby knew, in a different universe, where he wasn’t there to pry you two apart, you possibly would have walked away with Derrek. Maybe gotten back together, got married, had the whole nine yards of the white picket fence. He just couldn’t stand to let you settle for that.
“You’re welcome for saving you by the way.” Robby added, raising his voice just enough to be heard over the music.
“Yeah, do you want a medal?” Rolling your eyes but you fail in trying to hide the unease on your face.
Curiosity coaxes you to attempt to look over your shoulder, back at Derrek. Robby guides you back to look at him with his hand on your cheek. Shaking his head with a low chuckle, one arm wraps around your waist and pulls you in closer to him. Torsos pressed together, building a heat from the increased movement in trying to stay on beat with the song. Robby leans in close, nose grazing your cheek as his lips hover near your ear.
“We can go if you want— don’t even know why he’s here.” He asks.
Robby’s eyes flick up for a brief moment over your shoulder. He can see Derrek is still standing on the other side of the room, just enough space for him to have a clear view of the two of you. Derrek’s expression is stony, probably having lost all the joy in his face when you left him. Robby was eating it up. Feeding off the fact that Derrek is still so hung up on you, he’s going to spend his time at a party watching you dance with Robby. The two men lock eyes for a second, but it’s enough for Derrek to finally connect the dots. Robby smirks and holds in an evil chuckle.
All the while you shake your head in response to Robby’s question. You wanted a little break from the grey area you’ve been living in; somber from your breakup but over the moon with the great sex Robby has been giving you. I deserve to have fun at this fucking party, not thinking about Derrek, you thought.
“No, I want to stay and dance.” Robby heard you loud and clear.
You reach your arms up and around Robby’s neck, pulling each other close, closing your eyes to feel the beat of the music. Wrapping his arms around you, Robby holds you in a way that feels so protective and comforting you soften in his hold. While at the same time, Robby doesn’t stop staring at Derrek. So purposeful where he puts his hands, dangerously low on your hips. He traces them over your curves, thick fingers running over denim. Large hands grabbing at the curve of your ass and squeezing. You’re too lost in the moment to care about how handsy Robby had suddenly become. He must be feeling the moment too.
One hand stays squeezing the mound of flesh, the other running up and down your body. Vivid memories of all the times Robby had you underneath him, his cock pistoning in and out of your pussy as you cry out his name. It’s intoxicating, not only because you’re so perfect, but also because he loves showing off in Derrek’s stupid face that he won.
The music starts to pick up, louder and heavier in bass. Robby spins you around in his arms, back pressing up against his chest. He pulls your hips back, ass brushing up against the budding hard on in his pants. In any other situation, you’d roll your eyes at how predictable he is. But you are completely immersed with the energy of the room as it picks up. Grinding your ass against him, reaching your hands back to hold on to him. You're playing into Robby’s little display for Derrek without even knowing it.
Poor guy, probably wishing he was right in my spot, Robby thought to himself. Derrek had the choice to look away, leave the party and erase what he’s seen from his mind. But all he does is stand and look, hopeless.
Planting one kiss on your cheek, then your jaw, then right on to the spot of your neck that made you feel buzzy inside. That sweet smile on your face is enough to make Derrek’s heart break just a little bit more. Robby nips at your skin, knowing exactly how you like it. In such a raunchy manner, Robby’s hand finds your breast. Giving it a firm squeeze and kneading it.
Making a real show of it for poor Derrek. What a greedy son of a bitch Michael Robinavitch is.
For the brief moment Robby looks away from Derrek and back at you, you look so care free. Dancing against him, holding him, being yourself with him. It stirs his mind in a way that he has not considered. Why he aches to have you all to himself. Rearing himself over your shoulder, guiding your lips to his. The soft, plush skin of your lips is enveloped by his. You melt into his touch, reaching to pull him in for a deeper kiss.
Between licks and kisses, you’re able to mumble a few words that Robby can barely pick up.
“There’s a bathroom over there…”
But the message is well received.
Giggling, blitzed on all the grinding and touching, you drag Robby in the direction of the bathroom. The last thing Derrek sees is your wide grin and Robby flashing him his middle finger, before you disappear behind a closed door.
As soon as the door locks with a click, the pair of you are back on each other. Tongues fighting to taste each other. Pressed against the sink counter first, then turned on to your stomach. Facing the mirror, Robby pushes him up against you from behind. Your eyes follow him in the mirror, hands trailing over any exposed skin and studying your figure. With a mutual understanding, you both start to undo and pull down your pants. Robby takes a moment to appreciate your ass, in those panties you knew drove him crazy. Black and lacy, you must have had plans for after lecture, regardless of coming to this party. He traces a middle finger up the seam of your cunt, feeling the soaked fabric. Already so ready for him.
He pushes the fabric to the side and sinks in his middle finger, forcing a moan from your lips. Gliding his finger to get a feel of warm and silky walls. Adding another finger into the mix to really stretch you a bit more.
“Got all wet just from grinding on me baby? Didn’t know you wanted it that bad…” he mused.
His eyes never breaking with his fingers in your cunt, obsessed with watching how much of your slick coats his fingers. He plunges himself in deep, feeling the pulse of your walls. Robby wishes the music wasn’t so loud; so he can hear the sweet sound of our pussy gushing around his fingers. You whine when he pushes up against a particularly sensitive spot and drags away from it slowly.
“Please Robby— no teasing.” you plead, hips moving back to try and fuck yourself on his fingers. Who knew how much time you had before someone came banging on the bathroom door.
He pulls himself out quickly, clicking his teeth in disapproval. You never are the most patient.
Keeping his eyes locked on to yours in the mirror, he slips the two digits past his lips. Licking and sucking your arousal off his skin. It added kindling to that growing fire in your belly. And Robby knew exactly you were at a breaking point. Pulling your panties down and letting them pool around your ankles, he pushes his boxers down just enough to let his cock free.
Sweetly moving your hair over your shoulder, peppering kisses up the column of your neck as he slides himself past your folds. The loud music is enough to drown out your noises from the rest of the party. You groan when Robby finally fills you in, hilted and hips pushing into your ass to get in as deep as he could. It is the best kind of feeling, the best kind of drug to be on. With his hands on your shoulders, he pushes you over the sink and rocks his hips. Not wasting time to go slow, snapping his hips and fucking you with a strong pace. Your hand presses against the mirror, bracing yourself to keep you from colliding headfirst into said mirror.
“My needy girl… making a show of herself all over me in front of Derrek… You must have really not liked the pipe he was laying, huh sweetheart?” He manages to taunt into your ear through grunts and moans. Sick words that antagonize you, but turn you on even more. Walls clenching around him and sucking him back in with each thrust.
You’re being fucked too hard to properly compute what he was saying. Raking your mind to make sense of it. Was Derrek watching? Why didn’t Robby say anything?
“No— just wanted to be close to you Robby…”
“Oh really baby? Because I saw how much Derrek was looking… watching my girl dance with me. Letting me touch her body…” he so expertly punctuated his words with the jolt of his hips. The tip of his cock managing to kiss the surface of your cervix. Maybe you did know Derrek was watching, and somehow Robby poisoned you enough to want to show off too.
He snakes his hand around your neck and pulls you back onto him. Feeling your rapid heartbeat when his fingertips press into your veins, just enough to make you feel hazy in the head. The kind of thing Derrek would have never dreamed of doing to you. But Robby knew what you liked and never had to ask.
“You should have seen his face baby, so sad that it wasn’t his cock you were grinding your ass on…” adding a brief swat on your ass.
Your fluids are leaking down your thighs, making a mess of yourself and Robby. His free hand finds its home on your clit. Thumbing circles on the sensitive bud to bring you closer to the edge. You cry out his name, chanting it like a prayer that is going to save your life. And when that spark in your core finally goes off, sending your orgasm flooding over you, it basically is life saving. You forget just for a minute that you’re at a party, and this is a strangers bathroom that you were defiling. Twitching in his arms as he keeps his pace going, overstimulating you until he catches his own high. Spurts of his seed filling your cunt, another stake of his claim over you.
Robby, having not released his hand from your throat just yet, pulls you in for another deep kiss. The faint taste of you still lingering on his tongue. He holds you just for a moment longer, panting into your ear. A slightest sheen of sweat covers your foreheads.
It’s this kind of moment of elation that makes you admit that you have no regrets of dumping Derrek. Yeah, you and Robby aren’t dating, but this is more than enough to have taken at the moment. Robby pulls himself away, bending down to pull your panties and jeans back up. A soft kiss to your shoulder before he starts to fix himself up as well. You’re not sure how long you were hogging the bathroom, you hope there isn’t a line or anything.
Finally straightened out, you open the door and close it behind you and Robby. You’re only able to take a couple of steps forward before almost bumping into someone.
“Oh sorry—”
So conveniently face to face with Derrek once again. Mirroring wide eyes to each other. His eyes darted between you, Robby, and the once occupied bathroom. No one had to say anything that didn’t finally confirm his beliefs; Robby was going to be the downfall of his relationship. You wanted to crumble and explain yourself to him, the cat is already out of the bag, there’s no going back.
“Were you two—”
“Sorry Derrek, we’re going to bounce. Gonna take her back to my room.” He winks at Derrek, snaking his arm around your waist and bringing you close. “Have a good night though!”
synopsisrobby went away hoping to catch peace in his three months get away but he caught sight of something else instead. now he's coming back after watching you for months over a camera, desperate for the real thing but what you don't know won't hurt you, right? (7.5k words)
warningssmut MDNI, voyerism, phone sex, watching masturbation through cameras, mutual masturbation, dirty talk, praise kink, smell play if thats a thing, fingering, oral (f and m receiving) finger sucking, handjob, slight chocking? unprotected p in v
authornotesby popular demand a part two to camera on me baby! but it can also kind of be read as a standalone. on a side note, I hate the word 'panties' I don't know why. In britain i'm pretty sure we call them knickers but that also sounds way less sexy. and i know Noah said in an interview he doesn't have chest hair but Robby does, I don't make the rules. (gif credit to @emziess :)
pitt masterlist! part one 'camera on me baby'
It was Duke's fault, really. The reason why you found out about the camera's in the first place. Although the blame on Duke can be run back down to Robby again for asking his friend to help instal the damn things.
You'd got home after a typical gruelling day, dumping your bag at the kitchen counter and rolling out the tension in your shoulders. There wasn't even anything special about the day that made it feel so long. You'd all been so sure (well, almost everyone, you had not been sure) that the place could run without Robby, so much so many felt they needed to prove that fact.
The wrong blood was hooked up to a patient, realised in just a nick of time.
Two diagnosis were switched up so a poor old man thought he was dying a lot sooner than he was. Jack smoothed that one out.
And a man with heart palpations just couldn't leave his cat so had to bring him in and Gloria just had to come down at that same time.
So you were ready to crash when there was a knock on the door.
Something you learnt living in Robby's space was the lack of visitors he had. You'd bumped into Mrs Hathaway who lived two doors down and had a bad habit of smoking a pack a day and carried the smell with her and explained that Robby was away so you were looking after his one house plant and bringing in his male.
But Mrs Hathaway never came around.
You wondered if you'd been so tired you'd called yourself a take-away and forgot as you looked through the peep hole.
Long grey hair and stormy eyes looked back at you. A denim vest and tattoos standing out against the canvas of skin. Before you wouldn't have known the guy; would've debated crashing Robby's peace to ask who this guy was but now he was a frequent flyer at PTMC.
“Hey, Duke,” you greeted, holding the door open.
Duke grinned and went in for a hug. “Hey.”
He smelt like bike oil and leather but you patted his back. You didn't know if he was deep down an affectionate guy or if it was the diagnosis but every time he visited the hospital for check ups or meds for his pain who was asking for particular nurses and buying up their time with idle chatter.
Nobody seemed to mind.
“Robby's still not back,” you said, pulling away and following him into Robby's place.
“Oh yeah, I know, just needed to pick up some tools I left here,” he said.
You watched him move around, flicking on lights as he went that you hadn't had the chance to turn on yet. He moved around Robby's place like he knew every nook and cranny. Maybe he did. Slowly, you were learning Robby had a life outside of the Pitt.
“So, how's the bachelor pad treating you?” Duke called as he wondered around the space.
“It's nice, it's good,” you said, following behind a pace or two and just hoping the tools weren't in Robby's room. Then he might see your bag you'd slowly let spill out over the place and a coffee mug you'd left from this morning. He might see the rumpled sheets and thrown over cover and realise you were sleeping in your bosses bed and not the provided spare room.
The guest room bed hadn't been made and you'd been so tired coming back that you'd just crashed in his bed, for one night. You were going to clean the sheets but then his bed was so comfortable you struggled even getting up in the morning.
It felt like an embrace from him.
“The wi-fi playing up or anything?” he asked, searching through kitchen cupboards.
“No, it's been fine.”
“Been eating? Punk has a good kitchen.”
“Did Robby ask you to check on me, or something?” you asked, hoping Robby didn't think he'd made a mistake in asking you to house sit. His one plant was very well cared for and mail organised by what you think required his upmost attention first. You'd even kept a pile of junk mail just in case he was particular in the sort he got rid of.
“No,” Duke chuckled. “I just know I'll get bonus points if I check in on you.”
Before you could ask what he meant by that there was a triumphant cheer as he started to pull out so many tools and a tool box you wondered if he was robbing Robby.
“Did Robby tell you he has a parking spot reserved out front? Parking can be a bitch here.”
“Oh, I don't drive I catch the bus.”
“He tell you about the camera's.”
The sleep that had been invading your every sense ebbed away. “Cameras?”
“Yeah,” he said. “Around the place. Installed them a couple months back.”
Cameras. All around the place.
You searched high around in places you'd never thought to scrutinise before. There, looming like a bird of prey in the corner of the kitchen was what could be assumed a camera. It was just a black dot to you with the high ceilings but when you glanced over at the living area there was a better view of the camera sat in the corner, aimed right where you stood at the kitchen island.
Cameras. About the place. The place you'd been living for weeks.
You'd been sleeping in Robby's bed, you'd been flaunting around in your shirt and nothing else. You had Trinity around to eat pizza and drink wine in your bras. You'd looked through Robby's stuff, you'd-
You'd done un-speakable things to yourself in that bed.
Were they a security measure? Did the tapes end up anywhere? And if they did, could you find them and burn them.
“The camera's,” said Duke, standing with tool box full in hand. “He mentioned them right.”
No. Robby hadn't mentioned anything of the sort. Hadn't even let onto the fact you might want to be on your guard. He'd welcomed you into his place, told you to treat it like yours while he was gone.
“Oh, yeah, cameras. He-he told me about the camera's,” you lied, gulping down the truth.
What if you said no he hadn't and it was written all over your face that you were guilty of.... of something. What if Duke thought it was Robby's fault? He was probably just tired, or forgot they were even there.
“Yeah, took us ages to get up. We were no good at it, you know, old men and technology,” he said, heading toward the door already.
“Yeah, yeah... totally.”
“Okay, see ya soon, doc!”
“You too, Duke.” As distracted as you were, Duke let himself out. The door closed and you were left alone with the cameras.
Maybe they weren't working all the time. Maybe, since Robby knew it was just you and he could trust you he'd turned off the cameras. Maybe he really had just forgot they were there and no longer used them.
Maybe's chased you into Robby's ensuite, sat you down on the of the counter. You scanned the corners subtly in case you were being watched but found only clean tiles and sterile walls. Safe.
As for the rest of the place, you dreaded to think.
You had almost forgot all about the cameras again. The first night you slept stiff, still un-able to drag yourself from the comfort of Robby's bed but you found the camera, tucked away in a corner. You'd watched for a flashing light but found none, so did that not mean it was off?
You thought about texting Robby, asking him about the cameras but you looked back at the last texts. He'd sent you a picture of a lake he was at, said it was peaceful, said he was enjoying his time. You didn't want to freak him out or accuse him of anything.
You knew the kind of guy Robby was. If he remembered the cameras, he'd tell you.
Moving on from that catastrophe was easy when you worked in the ED. Disasters came in and managed your time. You'd thought about asking Jack when you saw him at hand off but smiled him off.
Days later you were forgetting all about it.
“I mean, I've heard some pretty crazy stories before but a carrot, up the butt,” Trinity chuckled down the phone.
“Is it bad it's not even the first I've seen,” you said. “I had someone with a cucumber up there once.”
Santos hummed on the other end of the phone. “I get it, longer, smoother.”
You had been chopping up a carrot to make a ragu and thought different of it, putting it aside and forging any vegetable that could be seen as phallic. “You're disgusting.”
“Say that to the patient with half a carrot stuck up there.”
A quick sear of pain made you jump as beads of blood found its way down to Robby's chopping board and the onion you'd been slicing.
“Oh shit-”
“What happened? Found Robby's Viagra?” she said down the other line.
“Hilarious,” you grit out. Without thinking you grabbed the tea towel and wrapped it around your hand, holding it up high. You cursed quietly again when you realised you'd just ruined one of his. “I just, er, dropped one of Robby's glasses, I gotta go, I'll call you back.”
You wedged your wrapped up hand into your chest and ended the call.
Being a doctor yourself you knew you could handle a cut, blood, a gash. Peeling it away and dabbing at the edges you found the wound, a clean cut, not too deep. Stitches, maybe.
If you kept it wrapped up you could just leave it till the morning for your shift-
Your phone rang again and you answered without looking. Most calls logged in your phone were Trinity anyway. “No, I have not seen a banana in a vagina.”
“Well hello to you too,” said a striking and familiar deep rumble of a voice.
“Robby. Hey, sorry I-I thought you were Santos.”
He chuckled but it was curt. “Exciting day in work?”
“Yeah-yeah, you could say that,” you put down your phone on speaker and re-wrapped your hand. “So what's up? What's with the call?”
“I just wanted to... check in, it's been a while.”
You squeezed your hand, trying to stop the bleeding. “Everything's fine. All fine. Place is still standing.”
“Yeah, yeah, that's good, that's good,” he said with hesitation. “How are you? Staying safe, no-no accidents around the place I hope. Sometimes that place is a death trap. Door can stick... and- and my knives can be... sharp.”
Suddenly you realised.
The camera's.
Robby hadn't called you while he'd been away. He'd text only oddly to see how things were or send pictures of where he was- that was a new development.
He'd texted you about the temp playing up in his shower after you made one too hot and had to lie bare on is bed with his fan on you.
He'd texted that he had extra blankets if you were cold when you were wrapped up in his dressing gown.
He knew about the camera's.
Robby had seen. Everything.
“Still there?” he asked.
“Yeah, yeah, sorry just- funny you should bring up the knives, I just had a little accident.”
“Are you okay? Did you cut yourself?”
You tried not to eye the camera's. “Just a small cut.”
“You wouldn't lie to me would you?” he asked, a dark tint to his voice.
You didn't know what worried you more. The fact he was watching you close enough to see and call you, or the fact the thought didn't creep you out as you supposed it should. “How would you feel if I bloodied one of your tea towels.”
“Relieved, as long as you get your cut looked at.”
“And if I got blood on a chopping board.”
“Chopping board- bit of wood, I can get some more wood up here.”
“And how is your trip?”
Robby chuckled. “Oh no, no, no you're not distracting me from this. Got to the ER.”
“It's not that deep.”
“It loo-”
For a moment you were both silent, knowing what he was going to say. It looks bad. You felt burning in the back of your skull as you felt the camera's around you like his own gaze when he was watching your procedures in the ED.
“Better safe than sorry,” he said with a clear of his throat.
“I'll be fine.”
“Yeah, well, I've already texted Jack letting him know you're on your way in so you don't want to disappoint him do you. Or me. Do you, huh?”
You hoped the camera's didn't pick up on the blush rising to your cheeks. “No, I do not, Doctor Robby.”
He hummed. “Good girl.”
Your breath caught in your throat and the sudden thump of pain in your hand moved somewhere lower. Was it normal to feel aroused by the idea of being watched, with a cut bloody hand and your boss down the line.
“I guess I better get going, I don't want to disappoint.”
“No you don't.”
“So, I should go.”
“You should.”
He did not hang up and neither did you. At least you had the excuse of doing it all one handed.
“Okay, bye then,” you said, biting down on your lip to hide your smile.
“Bye.”
“Speak soon?”
“Yeah, I'll call you.”
Finally you pulled the phone back and declined. You wondered if you could hide away in the bathroom but the camera...
How much time did he spend watching you? Did he just so happen to check in at the same time the knife sliced your palm? Was he watching and had been watching since he left?
Had he watched when you plunged your fingers into your own pussy, spreading your need around... and called his name?
What kind of person did it make you if you wanted him to see that?
You got your hand sorted, stropping into the ED like you were a petulant child. Jack had only laughed at you, all but waiting in a swivel stool and turning around like a James Bond villain just to say: “I've been expecting you.”
However, your hand did need stitches and as the slice was along your palm it made trauma procedures difficult. You were stuck ordering around Ogilvie which was about as fun as it sounded and charting.
There was only small reliefs.
Practically as soon as you got back to Robby's he was dropping you a text or calling you. Usually it was under the pretence of checking on your hand or that he was waiting on an important letter but you knew it wasn't that. He knew exactly when you were home, whether it was overtime or not.
The camera's became hard to ignore but you tried to. You didn't want to freak Robby out by telling him you know about them. You didn't want to scare him off from watching you. Shouldn't it have been the other way around? Shouldn't he know that what he was doing was wrong on so many levels? Borderline, stalker-ish.
Still, one night, one lonely night you were in his bed unable to sleep. You were too busy thinking about Robby and the cameras.
It was hard being single and lonely. You had your own devices but toys were back at yours (Trinity brought you them as a joke birthday present and it turned into an even bigger joke when you opened them up in front of Denis) and you didn't want to bring toys into Robby's room.
Porn videos could get you going. Maybe a smutty book.
But knowing the camera's were there made it all the more easier to slide your fingers in your panties and find your arousal pooling.
Maybe Robby wasn't watching. Maybe he could tell this was a private moment and he shouldn't have been watching. The thought had your fingers stilling over your clit, your mind racing ahead of you. Maybe he didn't look at the camera's... maybe this was you over thinking it all...
Your phone rang on the bedside table and you reached over to get it.
There was a flash of Robby's name so familiar to you know it was like your own phone background.
Your other hand was still down your panties when you answered.
“Hey.”
“Hey,” his voice was gruff, low in his throat like he'd just woken up. “What are you up to?”
So, he was watching.
You smirked to yourself, trying desperately not to look at the camera. “Whyyyy are you asking?”
You heard him shuffle around on the other end. “Dunno, was just bored. Was thinking about you.”
“Oh, really?” trying not to sound too delighted was not your specialty.
“Yeah... seem to be doing that a lot these days.”
“You must miss me, huh?”
“Yeah. I must,” he hummed. “You know, I think you'd like it up here. Heck, I actually think I could've used the company, too.”
You slid a finger through your entrance. You were wet before just thinking about him, his voice low and gruff, the way it fell when talking through a serious procedure made it so you were clenching with every rise and fall of his voice. “If I was there with you who'd look after your place?”
“Hmm, you make a good point,” he said, a small tick to his words. “Speaking of my place, which bed you sleeping in?”
You felt your cheeks tint red as you pushed in another finger, pushing in and out slowly. Did he want to hear you were in his bed, even though he could see that you were? You toyed with him a little. It seemed only fair. “Why? Didn't you say I could pick either?”
“I'm just curious. Tell me.”
You closed your eyes and inhaled the smell of him that still lingered around his bed, clouding the edges of your mind in desire. “Yours.”
He chuckled. “Mine, huh?”
“Yeah. It's got the ensuite. It's bigger. It's comfy,” you said. You moved your fingers around your clit, drawing small circles and stretching your legs wider. You had some decency, let it be known, you were under the covers with an old and tattered T-shirt but you were sure it wasn't hard to tell what you were getting up to under there.
“Comfy, you think so?”
“Yeah,” you said. “Smells like you too.”
A breath caught down the line. “Do you like that it smells like me?”
You nodded, growing wetter as your eyes closed. “I do. I can wash it before you get back so it doesn't smell like me.”
“No,” he said, an un-mistakable sound of a zipper being pulled down sat behind his words. “Don't wash them. Don't.”
You smirked to yourself, the circles you were drawing over your nerves growing lazy. “What are you doing, Robby?”
“Nothing,” he said, a teasing lift to his voice and a rustle of clothes. “What are you doing?”
“Nothing,” you said, sliding your fingers into yourself and out, spreading your arousal as your hole clenched around nothing. You shuffled, getting your shirt to ride higher, but not enough for him to tell.
“Are you doing nothing in my bed?”
“Do you want me to be?”
There was a small but shark intake of breath on the other end. “Yeah. Yeah I do.”
You pictured Robby spread out on a sofa in a log cabin somewhere far away. His legs would be spread wide, jeans and boxers pulled down till his cock, hard, was against his stomach. His laptop out at the coffee table, phone to his ear. You wondered if he took things slow? You'd always pictured him the hot and heavy type. His fist wrapped around his cock and pumping, tickling the dark hairs you imagined lived at the base of him.
Your hips jutted up as you pictured him. Hot and heavy. You imagined him next to you in his bed, his coarse hand tracing up your body, finger pinching your nipple.
“What have you been doing... at my place?” he asked, a sudden breathless tone to him. “In my bed.”
You bit back your lip. “Sleeping,” you teased.
Robby groaned, almost a growl. “What-what else?”
“Is there supposed to be something else?”
“Fuck, yes.”
Fuck yes. You pictured him spreading your legs, rubbing his mouth against you with the burn of his beard. Fuck yes. You imagined his cock heavy on your tongue, needy and groaning. Fuck yes. You pumped your fingers in and out and circled your clit imagining the plumpness of his fingers.
“Whatever- whatever you want me to be doing in your bed.” It was a dangerous sort of game you were playing, balancing over the line you weren't crossing with the cameras like it was a tightrope.
“Well... you know what a lonely, old man like me does in that bed, huh?” he said. “You wanna know?”
You nodded and without asking for words he started to tell you, because of course he didn't have to hear your confirmation to see you it.
“After long and hard days, just come home, put the tv on low, maybe some music... drink a beer,” he listed as you impatiently waited for him to get to the exciting parts. Still, his voice was enough to have your legs stretched open, your fingers working yourself open. “Sometimes it's tough to stop thinking about my pretty resident...”
“Hope you're not talking about Whitaker,” you joked.
“You know I'm not, baby,” said Robby with a shaky exhale. “You know I go home... get so hard thinking about you...”
You moaned out a gasp.
“You like me thinking about you?” he asked.
You thought of him spitting down on his cock, slowly rubbing it up and down. Or maybe he had pre-cum enough to lubricate it for him. “I do, I do.”
There was a puff of air on the other side. “You ever think about me?”
Your back arched off the bed as you curled your fingers inside of you. “Yes.”
“You ever think about me in that big lonely bed, my cock hard for you. God, can you picture me and my hands running all over you. Would start at the bottom. Would you be wet for me, babygirl?”
“Yes, Robby, yes, I am,” you gasped out.
There was a light chuckle.
“Oh, you are?” he said with a seethe. Was he teasing the tip of himself? squeezing and thinking about your hand there instead? “You thinking about me, baby?”
“You know I am.”
Robby laughed, the sort one laughed when they knew something you didn't. It was cruel. It was mean. But was it worse you knew and liked it? “Yeahhh, I know you are.”
You tilted your head into his pillow, shifting till you could breathe him in and careful not to drool. “Thinking about- about your tongue,” you said, rubbing your clit with hard pressure, trembling with need.
“My tongue, huh?” he said, a jangle of a belt. Was he pushing away his jeans and spreading his legs further? Were you framed on the counter, between his legs how he wanted you to be? “Are you thinking about my tongue in your needy pussy? Is it making you wet?”
“Yes, yes, Robby. I really want you.”
“Spread your legs for me.”
“They are.”
He grunted. “Wider.”
Almost irritated that he wasn't here, you pushed the cover down till you knew the camera could see all of you. Still clothed. Still clad. But Robby would be able to see your hand down your black panties and how far your legs fell open.
He pretended like he heard the covers move instead of saw it happen. “Fuck... yes, baby.”
“I wish you were here,” you said, eyes kept close to imagine him and to not give the camera a devilish wink. “Wish I- your cock-”
“What about my cock?” he asked, voice strained. “You want it? You want my cock? How'd you want it?”
You circled your fingers around you, jerking at every touch, desperate to come but even more desperate to keep it going. “Want to taste it. Lick it. I- I want to know what you taste like.”
Robby shuddered. It was like you could feel it through the phone and through you. “Shit, you-you can't say things like that, baby.”
“But really want it,” you moaned. “Always wanted it down my throat.”
“Oh fuck, always huh?”
“Always.”
“Well... you've been such a good girl looking after my place for me, haven't you?” he teased. Listening closely, you thought you could hear the sound of skin on skin, the slick squelch of it. His hand working himself, maybe he was even sweating with desire. “Sleeping in my bed, just like I wanted. Living in my space. Bathing in my shower. Maybe I should thank you...”
“Please, please Robby.”
“Ah, oh god,” he strained. “Would lay you out on my bed, clean up all your mess with my tongue. Think you'd have to suck on my fingers to stop all the moaning, I have neighbours, baby-”
You didn't care as you moaned out at that.
“- god I want to fuck you. Oh, I want to fuck you so bad.”
You put your phone on speaker, set it aside and worked your hand under your shirt to grope your breast, moving from one to the other.
“Keep playing with yourself, baby, keep playing with yourself,” he groaned.
“Robby, are you- are you close?” you asked. Every circle of your clit had you closer and closer to the edge, had your legs trembling and heart pounding. You could hear Robby mumbling to himself.
“Shit- god- you're always so beautiful. Spread out, god I can picture you. Your skin so smooth, pussy so sweet. Want to bury myself in there, yeah, fuck, baby-”
“Robby-”
“-Yes baby! I'm close- I'm close, I wont last.”
“Wanna hear you come,” you whined.
“You first,” he said. “Think of me there. Press you into my bed, have you on your stomach, press allll of me into you. Cock just- just buried inside you there. Could just watch your ass go, shit, get it red.... you know how. Oh my god baby, please come for me.”
You pressed down with circles on your clit and came around your fingers, whining, moaning and you heard Robby over the phone groaning, heard his small exclamations as he came around his hand.
“Oh baby, you did so good for me, so good,” he uttered as the both of you caught your breath.
You took your phone off speakerphone and placed it back to your ear. It was small but you felt closer to him with his voice deep down your ear.
“Now clean yourself up on my bed. When I come back, wanna smell yourself there with me.”
The Pitt swallowed you up the rest of the days that followed. As if it knew you had something to go home to, as if it knew you wanted to do nothing more than talk to Robby, think about Robby, dream about Robby, it kept you so busy with late nights and six am wake up calls you had little time to live in this new found lust.
Robby didn't push. You didn't speak about that night because you didn't have to. He still texted with regular check ups when you got home. Still send random pictures of lakes or trees but he knew the demands of work and he didn't prod.
“Have we got labs back on our guy in seven?” you asked Dana.
“Not yet, want me to chase them up?” she asked.
“Please. I'm already behind on discharging two patients,” you muttered to her as Al-Hishimi walked by, head held high as she over saw the place. “But all caught up on my charting!” you said loudly to assure her.
You got a nod back and that was enough for you.
“How's Robby?”
You looked back to Dana, lips pursed, brows raised in question. “What?”
“You heard from him? I guess you had, you stayin' in his place and all,” she said, looking at you through her glasses.
You checked down to your tablet and the patients in three and twelve you needed to discharge, hoping the glow of the screen wouldn't blow up your blush. “Er, yeah, he's doing good, I-I think. We don't talk... all the time.”
“Yeah?” Dana smirked.
You glanced back up at her, catching the knowing glint in her eyes. You looked back down. “Yeah.”
“Okay then.”
Dana moved around you from the counter, patting your hand lovingly before she stopped in her tracks. “Oh. Looks like I can ask him myself.”
“What?”
There were already crowding voices, people calling out his name and nurses going in for fist bumps and high fives. There were questions about what he was doing back earlier than he said, if he'd brought back any gifts. You even heard Garcia who was passing about that promised butchers knife.
Robby stood in the middle of the group like he was some celebrity but his eyes found yours over all of them.
“He returns!” cheered Dana, bringing her arms around him.
One of Robby's own arms snuck around her back. “And in one piece.”
She pulled away and slapped him in the chest. “Hey, don't joke about that.”
Slowly, with Dana's coaching everyone moved back, got back to their jobs and their life. And slowly, Robby sauntered over to you.
You tried to look busy. Tried to wet your mouth that had run dry at the sight of him. A hip bumped into yours as Santos- an all too giddy Santos- slid up next to you.
“Looks like we're back to being room-mates, roomie,” she teased with a grin.
“If I didn't know any better I'd say you'd missed me?”
Santos tried to brush it off but you saw the way she shifted her weight from foot to foot in discomfort. She usually only got so discomforted when emotions like love was involved. “Please. Just want to out-weigh Denis with gender again.”
You smelt Robby before you heard him. He said Santo's name, then yours.
Trinity welcomed him back before she left just as quick as she'd arrived.
Robby let on the counter next to you. He was in jeans and the same coat he'd left it, his bag slung on his back with a helmet dangling off the side. He wasn't working, but he'd came by anyway.
“You're back early,” you said, flicking between patient charts.
“Surprised?”
“Very,” you said, realising you weren't as confident as you'd been nights ago. “I can get my stuff out tonight.”
“I don't want you out,” he said, dropping his voice low. “You know why I came here early, don't go shy on me now.”
“I'm not going shy,” you said, though you were.
“Are you blushing?” he teased, the graze of his knuckle brushing your neck and sending tingels over your body.
“No.”
“You are.”
You batted him away and turned to consider him. “Why'd you come back early?”
Robby wet his lips, eyes casting over you. “Because I had something to come back for.”
You eyes averted to his hands, reverting back to thinking of the coarse skin and imagining him dragging his fingers over you. “I don't get off my shift for another two hours.”
“I can wait.”
Waited he did and the two of you barley made it past his front door before he was grasping you and kissing you. There was no hesitation in his hands or your lips. He gripped and squeezed your hips as the door slammed shut behind you. Robby didn't waste a second in pulling off his jacket and grabbing you again, as if scared you'd disappear in the wind.
He didn't even glance around his place. The only thing he was honed in on was you.
Your lips worked against his furiously, hands gripping his shoulders. “How was your trip?” you were breathless, pulling away to un-button his shirt.
Robby chased your lips, eyes closed, lips curling up into a drunken smile. “Fine.” He kissed you again, mint on his tongue. His hands were warm as they traced up your scrub top, un-tucking your vest from your pants.
His rough hands on your skin woke something else in you. A need you thought you'd made friends with but clearly didn't even know. He kneaded the skin at your hips, working hard to leave red marks.
“Dreamt about you,” he said, lips trailing down your jaw to your neck, nose nudging a path. “Every night.”
“Every night?” you gasped as he bit and licked up your neck.
“Mornings. Afternoons. All the time.”
Your smiled to yourself, pushing off his shirt. “It was supposed to be a relaxing break.”
“It wasn't.”
The two of you had stumbled to his room and pulled off clothes. The both of you knew the way well. By the time you'd pushed the door open Robby's belt was discarded as well as your shirt.
With firm hands Robby turned you around till you were facing the headboard, till his hips flushed against your ass and the rough denim of his jeans rubbed against your ass.
Your head lulled back onto his shoulder and he licked up your skin.
“This where you slept?” he muttered, nipping at your ear. “This where you touched yourself, thinking 'bout me?”
“Y-yes.”
You felt the scratch of his beard as he turned his head. You noticed, from the corner of his eyes that he looked up to the corner where the camera sat. He was delighting in this.
“Show me,” he demanded.
You wriggled against him, trying to turn and set yourself on the bed.
His hands gripped your hips. “No, show me here... now.”
All you could do was shuffle down your scrub pants and panties while Robby un-clasped your bra, messaging your breasts. You groaned at the feel of him working at you while you slid a finger over your folds.
“There we go, that's my girl,” he encouraged, chin resting on your shoulder and watching. “Another finger, another finger.”
You slid two in just as you had the other night, imagining his weight on you, his hands. You thought you were wet then but now your need spread down you.
Robby made out with the skin of your neck, stretching his arm out to hold yours that worked inside of you. “God, you're so beautiful. Could watch you like this all night.”
You whined, tilting your head back to give him more access. “Robby.” You thrust your ass back into his crotch and you could feel the hard outline of his cock.
“You come in this bed, huh?” he uttered.
“Y-yes.”
He hummed into your skin. “More than once I bet.”
“Yes, Robby!”
His hand snaked down to yours, helping move your fingers in and out of you. “God, you're so wet, so wet for me.”
Your hand flew up, grasping the back of his neck. “Robby, please... can I have your fingers inside of me?”
Robby smiled against you. “You asked so nicely. Such a good girl,” he said. His fingers wrapped around your wrist and brought out your fingers, leading your hand up to his mouth. “Bet you're not always though, huh?”
Two of his thick fingers pushed into your easily and he moaned.
“Fuck baby, you're warm... tight-”
You groaned at the feel of his fingers working inside of you and his tongue licking up the mess of your on his fingers. He brought your fingers into his mouth, groaning.
In moments you were withering, a moaning mess and grinding down on his hand while his tongue swirled around your fingers, sucking and nipping at your finger pads while his beard scraped your hand.
If those cameras kept a log somewhere, you were dying to see Robby. The feel of his hips rocking into you, him moaning around your fingers.
“Can you come on my fingers?” he asked, voice muffled by where he wouldn't release you in his mouth.
You shook your head in defiance. “I want- I want more.”
“You can have more, you can have more,” he said, finally taking your fingers from his mouth and licking up them. “But you have to come first.”
His thumb pressed down on your clit in small circles and your caved into his body, coming over his hand. Robby helped you ride against his hand.
Only when your body stopped moving and your chest calmed its heaving did Robby pull away from you.
He pushed you down on the bed, ass up and dropped to his knees, shoving his face between your folds.
You cried out at the feel of his tongue splitting your fold and soaking up your arousal and orgasm. His hands spread your thighs, pulling at the skin till you were spread, till his nose ran up and down. “Oh fuck, Robby!”
“Hold onto the sheets, baby,” he said, muffled inside of you.
There was little anything else for you to do. Your hands curled around the sheets, pulling. You thrust your ass up into his face but Robby welcomed it, chuckling into you. His beard scratched between your legs, deliciously.
He slurped once before pulling back, crowding over you till all of him was pressed against you. “Kiss me.”
And you did. You tasted yourself on his tongue, on his lips. He turned you down over onto your back and you wrapped your arms around him, pulling him into you till his weight was crushing you.
It could have been hours of breathing in each other, of licking into each others mouths, of sucking on each others bottom lips, of feeling each other up and mapping what made each other tingle and shake.
Robby stepped back and made a slow show of popping the button on his jeans and pushing them down slow with his boxers.
You crawled over the bed till you were at the edge, staring at his cock. There was dark hair over his chest, leading down to himself where he curved, hard up to his stomach.
Robby stared down at you, staring at him. “You want it? You want my cock?”
“Yeah... please...”
Robby stroked back your hair. “Did you think about my cock, in my bed?”
You looked up to him and smirked. “All the time.”
You took him into your mouth, slow and watched as Robby threw his head back. You could feel him tense before letting go, shoulders sagging, body melting as you slowly worked up and down his length, savouring the taste of him.
Robby kept on hand stroking back your hair tenderly but didn't push you down to his cock. He let you set the pace. “Oh my god,” he groaned as you licked the tip, circling it.
You learnt every tell of him. The tick of his jaw when you licked over him, the small pressure from his finger tips, his groans about how good you were doing that all went straight down to your core.
Whatever you'd imagined, this was better than any dream.
“Deeper... deeper.... there we go, baby, there we go... take me so good.”
You moaned around him and Robby chocked on a moan before pulling you off.
You knelt on the bed, hands running over the plumpness of his stomach. You peppered kisses along his chest as his hands pushed back your hair.
You glanced up at him, something wicked curling in your stomach as you saw him eye the camera again. “Robby...”
“Yeah, baby?”
“Were you ever gonna tell me about the cameras?”
He froze. You felt his heart pound under your hand, his eyes levelled on you. “You knew?”
“Duke told me.”
Robby scoffed, leaving you to figure Duke's visit did not capture Robby's attention over the camera's. “Duke.”
“He didn't mean to tell me... like you didn't.”
His breath stuttered, eyes peering at you like he was trying to read you. “I forgot.”
“Forgot?” your fingers curled around his cock.
He seethed in a breath. “You set the fire alarm off, fuck I saw you. Couldn't stop, but you knew didn't you?”
Your hand may have been wrapped around his cock but you didn't have the upper hand. He looked down at you with a knowing glint, his hand cupping your chin and forcing you to look up at him as you slowly stroked him.
“You got yourself off on it, put on a show for me,” he said, his fingers slowly stroking your chin. “Wanted this dirty old man to watch, didn't you?”
You swiped your thumb over the tip of his cock.
Robby seethed. “Yeah you did.”
A couple strokes later and Robby was moving away from you, leaving you to watch with wide eyes.
You watched as he pulled his phone out and set it in front of you before he climbed up on his bed behind you. Steadying himself on his arms he braced and slowly sank on top of you, the tip of himself rubbing between your folds.
The app.
The screen lit up with a HD video of you lying on the bed, Robby's body curving over you. You could see himself lowering himself into your folds.
“Fuck,” you moaned, eyeing the camera.
Robby kissed down your neck, bruises forming there. “You wanna watch yourself? You wanna watch yourself come on my cock, baby?”
You looked back at his phone. “Yes.”
“Dirty girl.”
Slowly, Robby pushed himself. He pushed in and pushed in and pushed in till he was groaning and his hips flushed yours. In the camera, you had become one.
“Ro-Robby,” you mewled.
His head comes down to your shoulder, kissing it gently as he looked down at the camera too. “Look at us, baby, look at us.”
Slowly Robby started to rock his hips, enough to set a tortuous pace.
“I watched you moan my name, while you pumped your fingers inside of you, you wanted me, didn't you?”
“Y-yes!”
Your body slowly moved with his thrusts, his arms tensing at your sides as he tried, desperately, to not give in. To not bite down on your shoulder and thrust harder. To not have his bedroom echoing with the thump of the bed and skin on skin.
“Please, please go harder,” you begged, reaching around to claw at his ass.
“Can't,” he grunted.
“Please!”
Robby's hand was firm around your neck as he leant over you. “I'll come baby, I'll come.” He thrust in deep, till you could feel the slap of his balls against your ass.
“Fuck!”
“Yeah, yeah,” he moaned, drawing the camera in closer. “You're so tight baby, taking it so well... just like I wanted you to.”
His thrusts grew faster, harder, his body plopping on yours leaving you a moaning mess. His hands couldn't settle, running over your hips, gripping and spreading the skin of your ass. He grunted and groaned and the two of you started to bounce on his bed.
“Tell me you liked me watching you,” he moaned.
“I- I liked you watching me come.”
“I heard you moan for me, in my bed.... breathing me in... you wanted me so bad.”
“Y-yes, Robby, so bad- so bad!”
Robby groaned and slid out of you, leaving you empty. He spared a minute to licking up the mess from the both of your arousal between your thighs before he turned you over, lying you flat and chucking his phone aside. He guided himself back into you and gripped your hips hard as he thrusted in.
He kept his lips close to you, brushing your lips against yours, taking your tongue as his.
“Thought of you every day,” he said, nose nudging yours. “I missed you so much.”
“I-I missed you too,” you moaned, holding his shoulders.
Your walls clamped around him.
“Arg, baby-baby-baby,” he babbled, lying his mouth flat open on yours, his tongue tasting yours and swapping spit.
A hand trailed between your bodies and ran over your clit.
“S'too-too much,” you cried.
“No it's not.”
“I can't, I can't,” you moaned, your walls tighter around him. “I'm gonna come, I'm gonna come-”
Robby bit down on the sweet spot around your ear and you released around him, back arching into him and leaving him moaning into your neck. “There we go, there we go- squeeze me, squeeze me!”
In one powerful thrust you felt his release shooting up your walls, painting you in him. His body sagged with stuttering thrusts as he spent himself.
Only once the both of you had calmed down did you catch your breath, sweaty skin on sweaty skin and lips swollen and red, bruises littering your neck.
Still inside of you, Robby reaches over and tilts your head back, the two of you grinning like love sick idiots.
“Smile for the camera, baby.”
taglist: @oldbaddies, @mafercita101, @florenceandthemechanism, (I thought you'd like to be tagged for this one!)
summary: you and John Carter have been friends since you've been babies...but when did he get hot?
content/warnings: childhood friends to lovers, mentions of child death, implied childhood abuse (if you've seen ER you know), sex, oral sex (f receiving), no use of y/n NSFW + MDNI! 18+ ONLY!
wc: 3k
notes: season four Carter....pics used just for aesthetic purpose, not a reflection of what the reader looks like. I just can't imagine John Truman Carter III as anything but a sweetie
Summer meant one thing. Freedom. You spent the sun-soaked weeks playing with the boys in the neighbouring mansion. You spent your school year in a private all-girls boarding school. So as soon as you dropped your bags in your room, you were racing across your garden to the tree line that separated your home from the Carter Estate.
You and John Carter were born just weeks apart, in the same private hospital. So you were destined to be best friends from birth! The only thing that stopped you from spending every day together was your school situation.
But every school holiday was spent with John. Your mother fretted over you in the winter, tying your hat under your chin. But you always managed to lose it somewhere along the way. Spring break was usually spent on some sort of family holiday...with the Carters, of course.
Your families always joked how you and John would marry each other someday. But that was just gross. John Carter was a smelly boy! While he was good for playing with...marrying him was a whole other story.
Your bond only became more solidified when you were eight, and John's brother, Bobby, died. Your mother explained that he had been very sick. You were allowed to leave school for a while to spend time with John. He didn't want to play anymore. So you just sat in his room reading books and colouring. You were happy to be a friend.
"Maybe I could go to school with John next year?" you suggest to your parents that summer.
But your school was one of the best in the country and your parents have secured your spot there until you graduate for college. So moving isn't an option. So school holidays are even more precious.
"I wanna be a doctor," John whispers one night as you camp in your back garden under the stars. "So I can help people like Bobby."
You grin, "You'll be the best doctor."
One summer, you come home, and something has changed. John has changed. He doesn't want to play anymore.
"I'm not a kid," he tells you with a sniff. His knees are cut from falling over during a game of tag in school.
"You're eleven," you point out with a pout.
You feel stupid because he's more mature all of a sudden. You don't like the new maid the Carters have hired. But John just loves her. So you stomp back to your own house. John'll come around.
"Are you two dating?" your friend asks when she joins you for a week at your lakehouse one summer.
You're sixteen, and John Carter has stretched since the last time you saw him. But he's still your annoying best friend. So you just shake your head even though you get butterflies when you see him. His friend is here too, and he calls him Carter.
"Carter?" you ask as you sip at your drink. "Never!"
What you don't expect is the way your stomach sinks when you walk in on John Carter kissing your friend. He's your Carter. Why is he kissing her?
You haven't kissed anyone...Are you falling behind? You're not sure if it's an act of revenge or because you like the boy John brought home from school. But you let him press his too wet lips against yours. If this is kissing you don't see the fuss.
You're thankful when you and John are left alone for the rest of the summer. Neither of you broach the subject of kissing. Why would you? That's gross. It would be like kissing your brother.
"You've never once kissed?" another friend asks the next summer.
You shake your head, "That's gross. We've literally known each other since we were in diapers. He's like family."
That's how you explain why you feel like throwing up when you hear the creaks of the mattress in Carter's room at the lakehouse. You turn to see the bed your friend was sleeping in empty. Why does he keep doing this?
You yell those words at him when you're finally alone.
"What do you mean?" he asks as he holds the neck of his beer bottle.
"Why do you keep kissing my friends? And...what you did with Nancy!"
"Sex?" he asks with a soft laugh.
You physically cringe when the words come out of his mouth. Why would he say that?
"Are you jealous?" he asks, his eyebrows shooting up.
"No!" you yell. "But it's fucked up! You're doing that with my friends!"
Carter just laughs and shakes his head at you.
You're both about to turn eighteen. Your parents love having joint birthday parties for you, even though they could definitely afford to host two! Carter looks at you and bites his lip.
"I got into pre-med," he tells you with a half smile that makes your stomach do a flip.
You throw your arms around him and hug him close. You haven't hugged like this since you were kids.
"Congrats John!" you tell him. You haven't called him John in so long, all his friends call him Carter.
"But I gotta go do extra classes in Pennsylvania this summer. So I...."
"You won't be around," you whisper, pulling back.
But his hands don't let you go. Your eyes meet his. When was the last time you were this close? When you were kids camping out in your backyard? Definitely before he started growing hair on his face. Definitely before his hair fell into his eyes like that. And definitely before he had his growth spurt that saw him tower over you.
You feel like you can't move until the door opens, and you both jump away from each other. John's grandmother, Gamma, is standing there, and he scampers after him.
You expect to see Carter when you come home from college for winter break. But you don't. He's fast-tracking his undergrad to get to med school. While you both write and sometimes talk on the phone, you don't see each other. You're both adults now, both in college, both spreading your wings.
You move to Italy, France, England, you travel the world. But when you get an invite from the Carters for a charity event for children's cancer, you know it's time to come back to Chicago.
When you walk into the event at the Carter mansion, you feel overwhelmed. It's been years since you've been here, and you're not sure what to expect.
You sip happily at a glass of champagne as you mingle with those in attendance. When you see Gamma, you rush over to hug her.
"It's been so long, Mrs Carter," you tell her. "I'm sorry I haven't visited."
"You know to call me Gamma," she responds, smoothing down your hair. "But you're here now and John will be so happy to see you."
"Is he here?" you ask with a shy smile.
"Who do you think invited you?" she responds before nodding over to the other side of the room.
You don't know how you didn't spot him right away. But as soon as you see his brown eyes, you feel like you're five years old again, playing in the trees. You cross the room to him, and he just smiles at you.
Your name tumbles off his tongue like a precious thing. It's been too long. He's grown up so much it makes your heart ache. You missed him in a way you can't describe. Not being with him was like missing a part of yourself.
"Do you wanna maybe go somewhere quiet to talk?" he finally suggests.
He leads you outside into the hot summer air and through the garden. You know exactly where he's going - to your favourite place in the woods between your house and his. You're a bit bigger than you were the last time you squeezed into the space between two trees. Your dress doesn't help.
"So," you begin, a smile playing on your lips.
John Carter is all grown up. And he's handsome. Fuck. Was he always this handsome? Well, all your friends were in love with him. So maybe. Maybe you just needed a few years apart to see that.
You have no idea that John Carter has always thought you were beautiful. But he never knew how to tell you. So he just put all that awkward teenage energy into practising on girls...including your friends. Look, he wasn't very smart when it came to girls. He still wasn't now in his twenties.
"Should I call you Dr Carter?" you ask as you sit on your tree stump. The one you presided over your fairy court as kids.
"I guess. Although John is fine. Or just Carter..." he tells you.
"Okay John," you whisper with a smile.
"I'm working in County," he tells you.
"County? Not one of those fancy schmancy private hospitals that would pay you an arm and a leg?" you ask.
He shakes his head, "Naw. I want to help the most people. And I'm doing my surgical internship right now."
You wrinkle your nose, "Surgery? You're so clumsy."
"Clumsy?!" John asks incredulously, giving your shoulder a light push.
"Yea, you heard me!" you tease pushing him back and causing him to stumble over his feet. "Case in point!"
"How long are you back for?" he asks then. "I moved home five years ago and I thought I'd see you around..."
You shrug, "I was travelling. Dropped out of college, I never had your brains, John. I wanted to see the world. I didn't know you were home. I woulda come back sooner."
He shakes his head, "You shouldn't change your plans for me."
"I'm ready to come home. Maybe figure out what I want to do with my life now," you tell him.
The rest of the night goes like this, reminiscing about old times. Talking about your life now. You end up lying on the ground watching the stars. And that's how you wake up, with your head on John Carter's chest and his arms wrapped around you. You feel yourself flush as you try to untangle yourself without waking him. But your movement stirs him and he all but jumps away from you.
"Shit...sorry!" he tells you.
Your mother watches you one evening as you get ready to meet Carter after work.
"It's like you're kids again. Inseparable," she tells you.
"I missed him. He's my best friend," you remind her before slipping out.
You've spent every day with him since the fundraiser. After work or, when you're lucky, the whole day when he's not on shift. But today he's invited you to drinks with some of his friends. You don't expect so many of his "friends" to be women. And you can't help how jealous you are when you arrive and see him speaking closely to a blonde woman who eventually introduces herself as Anna. There's Susan as well. And Carol. And Maggie. And you want to shoot yourself because you're just another girl on Carter's apparently very long list.
You're gathering your things when Carter stops you.
"Where are you going? You just got here!" he argues.
"Look, Carter," you begin, he looks wounded when you call him by his last name. "I didn't realise you had a harem and I'm not in the mood to join it."
You pull your jacket on and storm outside. John is hot on your tail.
"What are you talking about?" he asks.
"All those women in there! You're like...I don't even know. Look if you and Anna are dating..."
He shakes his head, "We're not. I'm not-"
"Okay well Susan then! Or Maggie! Whoever you're dating that's fine I just don't wanna get mixed up in all this. You hooked up with all my friends when we were teenagers and I'm not in the mood to watch you kiss someone else again. Especially while I have to sit there like a fuckin'-"
This time when he interrupts you, it's with his lips against yours. He grabs your waist and pulls you close to him. He's wanted to know what you taste like since he was a kid. He always imagined his first kiss would be with you. But you were always so repulsed by the idea. But when you kiss him back, your hands untuck from the fists they'd balled into as you yelled at him and tangling into his hair, he relaxes. You're both in your twenties now, the idea of being more than just friends isn't scary anymore.
You're glad he drove into work and you gladly climb into the passenger seat of his Jeep. Although you pull him back into a kiss before he can drive you back to his house. His parents are away. You always remember how empty his house was when you were kids. If there was an adult, it was a member of staff or maybe John's grandparents.
You let him lead you to his bedroom. It's almost the exact same as it was when you last say it before he left for summer school before he went to college. And you love that about him.
You're fumbling him with the buttons his shirt, your lips glued to his as his tongue explores the inside of your mouth.
"You sure you wanna do this?" he asks when you pull away for air.
"I've never been so sure," you respond as you pull your dress over your head.
John almost falls to his knees right there and then. He's been with his fair share of women over his life but he's never expected to see you in his bedroom in your matching bra and panties. He pulls you back in for a desperate kiss as you push his braces down his shoulders and finally manage to get his shirt off. He helps you undo his pants and push them down. You giggle as you both fall onto his bed.
This is sweet. Everything about John Carter is sweet and you adore that about him. You let his soft hands roam over your body as you continue to kiss. Honestly you could kiss him all night. You have a lifetime of kisses to catch up on. But eventually his lips move down your body. He unhooks your bra and throws it across the room. His hot mouth spends what feels like hours exploring the swell of your breasts, hooking onto your peaked nipples and leaving soft bites over the skin.
Once satisified with the whimpers he's elicited, he continues down your body. He noses against the cotton of your panties. You've soaked through the fabric. Honestly you've been wet since you saw his mussed-up hair in the bar. He licks a stripe over your clothed core before he pulls your underwear off your body entirely. His cheeks are tinged pink as he takes in your entire naked body. He's ashamed to confess how many times he's fantasised about this moment. So he doesn't speak.
Instead he presses kisses against your soaking pussy. He lets out little content groans before he finds your clit and focuses his attention there. His hands snake up your body until they find your breasts. He plucks at your nipples as he sucks and slurps at your clit. Your eyes roll back in your head as the dam breaks and he brings you to orgasm. It's so perfect and sweet and beautiful. You could almost cry.
He gives you a boyish grin as he strokes your sides, bringing you down from your high.
"We don't have to do anything else," he tells you gently.
Your eyes drop to the tent in his blue boxers and the stain of precum.
"Oh baby, I wanna feel you inside me. I wanna make you feel good," you whisper, pulling him in for a kiss.
John could kiss you forever, but his cock is aching and he needs you. He finds a condom in his bedside locker and rolls it onto his cock.
"Just tell me if you wanna stop," he breathes, the tips of his ears now pink.
You pull him in for a reassuring kiss as he starts to sink into you. And fuck, the burn of him feels so good. You haven't had sex in so long. You hold each other for a moment when he bottoms out. And slowly he starts rocking his hips against you, his forehead pressed against yours. Each drag of his cock, hits against that sweet spot inside you. Your moans get louder and louder as you chase another release.
John holds your hips down as you start to rock them desperately.
"Gotta gimme a second," he begs.
He doesn't want to blow his load embarrassingly fast. But this has been his fantasy since he knew what sex was. It has always been you for him. Everything else was just a distraction.
"Fuck, I love you," he breathes as he feels his orgasm approach.
Your eyes go wide and you smile, big, just for him.
"I love you too, John," you breathe as your orgasm hits you.
He follows you over the edge.
Afterwards you lie together, wrapped in his arms, content and happy.
"Took you long enough," he finally breathes. "I've been waiting my whole life for you to realise that I'm in love with you."
You giggle.
You watch him retell this story, minus the sex, at your wedding.
"I'm a slow learner!" you argue with the biggest grin as your guests raise a toast to Dr and Mrs Carter.
Dr. Carter Masterlist || The Pitt Masterlist || Requests: OPEN
Synopsis: You and John had been childhood friends turned lovers. He is ready to take the next big step in your relationship. Based on this request: can i have a oneshot where you and john carter are newly dating but you two are best friends and it’s ur first time making love <3 make it so soft and include hand holding and praise because i know john would do anything to make his girl comfortable'
Word Count: 3.6k
Warnings: SMUT! PiV, protected sex, fingering (F!receiving), missionary sex, reader is a virgin, losing virginity, mentions of bleeding after sex (totally normal!).
John could remember the first time he had laid eyes on you. He was freshly 18, in his last year at Balmoral Prep. It was another one of those stupid charity balls that his grandmother had forced him to go to. He couldn’t remember the name of the charity, nor did he particularly care. The waiters kept serving him champagne, and he wasn’t about to turn them down on it. He was about to walk up to Gamma, give her some excuse about a science project he had to finish when she walked up to him with you on her arm.
“John, I’d like you to meet Y/N L/N,” Gamma smiled at the young girl like she had just presented her with some new great thing the foundation could invest in. But to John, the world had stopped turning, his heart stopped beating, and all he could think was;
“You’re beautiful.” You blushed, looking down at your shoes. John mentally face palmed as he realized he had said those words out loud. “I mean. . . nice to meet you.” He held his hand out for you to shake.
“Likewise,” You returned the gesture. Gamma stood there, a knowing look on her face as she watched the two of you talk.
That moment was six years and a whole medical degree ago. John had asked you out shortly after the charity ball, but you had turned him down, telling him that you wanted to focus on your senior year of school and your undergrad, needing good grades to get into medical school. John had offered to remain friends, telling you that he was on the same path as you. However, that promise to be friends turned out to be as useful as a screendoor on a submarine. You were the first to cave, confessing to John on graduation day that you loved him and have been in love with him. John kissed you right then and there, asking you to be his girlfriend.
You’re both in the middle of your internships, you deciding to go the pediatrics route and John the surgical route. Though drowning on dry land would be better than doing internships with Doug Ross and Peter Benton as your superiors. They both liked to think the term “intern” meant, “they’ll do everything for me.” You and John had become like ships in the night, passing right by each other, giving fleeting glances and an occasional hand on the back while moving around a trauma room. But for the first time in almost three months, you and John had the same night off, and he was determined to make the most of it.
“I got three bottles of the Persian champagne you-“
“Three bottles?” You cut him off, looking up from the drunk man’s arm you were suturing. “A bit overboard don’t you think?”
John looked offended as he leaned against the counter across from you. He was hiding away from Benton, and Ross had banished you to the suture room so he could flirt with whatever flavor of the month he’d pick. At least this time it wasn’t a patient’s mother.
“Overboard?” John asked incredulously. “Baby, this is our first night off since our internships started. This is bare minimum.”
“Okay,” You rolled your eyes, snipping the last bit of thread and setting your instruments down on the tray. “What if we don’t get out of here at the same time?”
“Oh we are,” A cute look of determination crossed John’s features. He still had that boyish charm and looks to him as when you were teenagers. His hair, though slightly shorter than med school, was still long and strands of it flopped down in his eyes. The start of his five o’clock shadow started to appear on his face. He’d only grown his beard out once since you’d been together and you’d begged him to again. But Gamma hated it and threatened to write him out of the will if she saw it again.
“If you say so,” You took your gloves off, standing from the stool. The drunk man was going to sleep off his alcohol and you weren’t looking forward to being the first face he saw. You grabbed his chart and started walking towards the nurses station. Hopefully Doug was back from his afternoon delight and could actually let you take a pedes case.
“I’m thinking Italian tonight,” John said, “Your favorite spot from Millennium Park.”
“That’s not even close to where you live!”
“It’s worth it,” John said, his arms going on either side of you, caging you between his body and the nurses station. “I’m determined to make this the best night off that we’ve had.” Your heart picks up a bit as his words, embarrassment flooding your stomach at the meaning of his words. You could see it in his eyes.
“Okay,” You whispered. “I’m off at seven. Meet me down here when Benton releases you?” John opens his mouth to answer but is cut off by his pager beeping. Speak of the devil.
“Yeah, yes, seven works,” John says suddenly flustered that his boss was calling him. “You, me, Persian champagne.” You smile and John kisses you before rushing off to the surgical floor. Dread instantly fills you as he leaves. The embarrassing secret you’ve been hiding from John since you’ve officially started dating six months ago.
— — —
The end of your shift couldn’t come soon enough. John had a hard time focusing on anything Dr. Benton was saying to him. He had been down in the ED for the rest of the day, and his brown eyes had been basically replaced by cartoon hearts as he watched you from across the room. You were such a natural with children, it was no wonder you decided on pediatrics. You had never talked about having kids, let alone marriage, but John couldn’t help but wonder what you would be like with your future children. He had a horrible experience with his mother, but he imagined you would be the complete opposite. The type to bake cookies and help with last minute science projects.
“Carter!” Benton yelled, snapping him out of his day dream. “Are you paying attention?”
“Ah. . . no,” John blushed, rubbing the back of his neck. He could see you biting your lip from across the ED, as you probably just heard him get yelled at. You glanced up quickly, shooting him a wink before focusing back on what Dr. Ross was telling you.
Benton looked between you and John, an annoyed huff leaving his lips. “Are you done making heart eyes at Ross’s intern?” John looked back up at Benton, nodding enthusiastically. “Okay, good.” He started walking towards the elevator, “As I was saying, I need you to round on patients, make sure they get their meds. I have med charts that need to be caught up on and finished by-”
“Oh,” John interrupted him. “No, no can do, Dr. Benton.”
Benton shifts his weight, one of his hands resting on his hips while the other pinches the bridge of his nose. It was the exact position he used to brace for whatever stupid statement John was about to make. “And why not, Carter?”
“Because I’m having sex with my girlfriend tonight for the first time and I can’t be late for that,” John said with a smile on his face.
Benton’s jaw goes slack at John’s candidness. He knew that his intern wasn’t exactly a closed book, but he wasn’t expecting to get an excerpt about his sex life. “Fine. Whatever. Just. . . Don’t ever tell me that again.” Peter lets out a deep sigh as he walks away, muttering under his breath, “I still have to look her in the eye.”
— — —
The ride on the L had been damn near torturous, John’s knee bounced relentlessly against your thigh, his hand squeezing yours tightly. As soon as John had closed the threshold to his apartment, you were pushed up against it, his lips on yours. Your hands tangled in his hair, pulling on the locks a bit. You had done this before, making out like teenagers. You felt comfortable with this, but when you felt John’s hand start to skim up your body, his lips moving from yours, down to your jaw, you froze a bit.
“Wait, wait!” You put your hand on John’s chest, stopping him from placing a kiss on your neck.
“What is it? What’s wrong?” He looks up at you with wide eyes. “Hey,” John gently pulls your lip out from in between your teeth with his thumb, “Tell me what’s going on.” He says with a soft demand you’ve heard him use with patients.
“Christ this is embarrassing," You blush, looking down. John bends his head down a bit, trying to catch your eyes. You swallow, “I’m a virgin.”
John is taken aback for a moment. “What?” You groan, hiding your face in his neck, your cheeks uncomfortably warm. “No, hey,” John gently lifts your head up. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to embarrass you, I just. . . You dated Bobby.”
You shrug, playing with the open buttons of John’s shirt. “I wasn’t ready for sex with him. He kept trying but I never felt comfortable doing it with him.”
“But you do. . . feel ready for sex. . . with me?”
You smile at his words. John wasn’t ever one to shy away from awkward situations or conversations, but seeing him so bashful made you smile.
“Yes,” You answer. “I feel comfortable and ready to have sex with you.”
“Gosh, I wish you told me sooner. I would’ve really wined and dined you.” He ran a hand through his floppy brown hair. You let out an airy giggle.
John’s lips were once again on yours. You hummed into the kiss as his hands landed on your hips, pulling you into him. Your hand tangled in his soft brown hair, as he walked you backwards to his bed, easing you down on it. You pushed yourself up a bit, so you were laying in the center of it. John’s kisses were soft and delicate as he moved down your jaw, to your neck, nipping softly.
“John,” You moaned, arching your back. “It feels good.”
“Does it?” You could feel his cocky smirk against your skin. You playfully tugged his hair and he hissed. “Can I take your shirt off?”
“Please,” You nod. John made quick work of the buttons of your blouse, tossing the shirt on the ground, his own following suit. His eyes damn near fell out of his head at the sight of your baby pink bra, your breasts sitting up perfectly in the cups.
“So perfect,” John mumbled, kissing you again. His hands roamed your bare torso, the callouses of his palms leaving goose bumps in their wake. His hips began to gyrate against yours, a moan leaving your lips, as one of his hands groped your beast. You had never been touched like this and it made John stiffen even more in his scrub pants. You trusted him enough to give up something that you had cared enough about to not let anyone else get it.
John’s free hand went around your back, unclasping your bra with one hand. He leaned back on his heels as he gently pulled the bra off your body. Your hands moved instinctively to cover yourself, but John grabbed your wrists, stopping you.
“Don’t,” He said softly, “I want to see you. Don’t hide from me.” You slowly put your hands down, puffing your chest out a bit. John gave you confidence you didn’t know you were lacking. It was in the way he looked at you, the way he complimented you, how he talked to you. Always as an equal, never anything less.
John leaned down, his tongue swirling around your nipple before sucking it into his mouth. You gasped, your hand going to the back of his head to hold him there. His brown eyes looked up at you, seeing the blissed out look on your face, lips slightly parted, eyes hooded with lust. John’s other hand massaged your other breast, his thumb and pointer finger tweaking your nipple. He then switched, using his mouth on your other breast.
“John, please,” You moaned, thrusting your hips up. You had felt this feeling before when you’d make out on the couch or in stolen moments in the supply room. The feeling of wetness and a gentle ache between your thighs. You tried to clench your legs together to try to relieve some of it, but it was useless. You needed more.
You needed John.
“I got you,” John assured you, “I’ll give it to you, but I gotta make sure you’re ready first.” You nodded and John kissed down your body. The lower he got, the more you ached for him. His fingers undid the button of your pants, tugging gently. “Can I?”
“Yes, yes please.”
John’s fingers hooked his fingers into your waistband, sliding your pants and underwear down your legs, and onto the floor. Your core was glistening and Jake let out a groan. It was hard for you to not try and cover yourself, especially with the way his brown eyes were looking at you. He ran a singular finger through your soaked fold, your head tilting back in pleasure and a pornographic moan falling from your lips. John’s finger circled your clit a couple times in lazy circles, watching as your body contracted and shook from the pleasure.
“Can I touch you here?” John tapped his finger at your opening and you nodded. Slowly, John pushed his finger into your cunt, feeling you stretch around it. It felt a bit forging to you, never having someone else’s fingers touching you. You knew John was skilled with his hands, his finger moving in and out of you, curling to hit a spot only you could ever find.
The pleasure was nothing like you’d ever felt before. It was beautiful and you were craving more. It felt like butterflies in your stomach, like when you’d drop from a rollercoaster. When John felt you were ready, he pulled back from your body. He reached into his bedside table, grabbing a small bottle and a gold foil packet.
“What is that?” You asked, shivering a bit, your body cold without John’s body pressing on yours.
“Lube and condoms,” John said, placing them on the table. “It’ll help both of us. I don’t want this to hurt. I got you ready, but it still might hurt just a bit.”
You nodded, watching as John stripped his green scrub pants and white Calvin Klein boxers off his perfect thighs. You couldn’t help but look away as his cock sprang free, already hard and leaking. You’d never seen him this bare before, a blush arose on his cheek.
“What?” John smirked, climbing back on the bed. “Never seen a naked body before. . . doctor?”
You rolled your eyes, “Of course I have, doctor.” You bit your lip, “You’re just beautiful.”
John kissed you. “I should be telling you that.”
“You do, plenty.”
John smiled, grabbing the condom from the table. He slid it on with practiced ease and you tried to ignore the jealous pang in your heart at how many times John could’ve been in this position. He gently spread your legs so he could slot between your legs. Grabbing the bottle of club, John put some on his fingers before spreading it over your already wet pussy.
“Fuck,” You gasped. “That’s cold.”
“Sorry, my love,” John apologized, pushing some of the lube into your center. “I’ll warm you up.” John grabbed the base of his cock, lining himself up with your entrance. He leaned down on his elbow, his face hovering a mere inches from yours. You reached up, pushing a lock of brown hair from his eyes. John looked up at you, giving you that boyish smile you love so much.
“Hi,” He whispered.
“Hi,” You kiss the corner of his mouth.
John pushed the tip of his cock into you, your hand gripping his biceps. “If at any time this hurts or becomes too much, you tell me and I’ll stop. If you don’t want to do this anymore, you tell me to stop.”
“I want this, John,” Your hands moved from his biceps to skim up his muscular back. John’s eyebrows furrowed as he drug his cock through your folds before lining up with your entrance. He hissed as he pushed his tip in, your legs falling open even more to adjust to his frame. Your body tensed, your nails digging into the flesh of his back. John thrusted slowly, letting himself slip in little by little, and then pulling back out.
“No,” You whined, stopping his hips with your hands. “Don’t pull back.” John nodded, words failing him as his kind became clouded with your scent. He continued to push his hips towards yours, when you squeezed his bicep.
“Are you okay? Am I hurting you?” His voice had an edge of panic in it. He could see tears prickling at the corner of your eyes, your body tensing, your legs shaking around his hips. “Baby, tell me how it feels. It hurts, doesn’t it? I can stop-“
“No,” You whimpered. “It doesn’t hurt. It feels weird, like a stretch. But keep going. . . just wait a moment please.”
“Okay,” John continued, pushing into your body until his hips were flushed with yours. Gasps and moans fell from both of you as John caressed your cheeks. He didn’t even care about sex at this point, he was content with staying right here, inside of you the whole night. You were keeping him warm, squeezing him just right. His jaw clenched as he shut his eyes tight. John felt that all too familiar feeling at the base of his spine.
He couldn’t cum this quickly. Not when he hasn’t gotten you off first. What kind of a first time would that be?
But John felt your chest heave with heavy breaths, your hips starting to wiggle underneath him, your nails clawing at him.
“Move,” You said barely above a whisper. “Please.”
“Ye-yeah,” John stuttered, “I’m going slow.”
“O-okay,” You nod and press your lips to his collarbone as he slowly drug his hips back, thrusting in and out of you. Your hands moved up his back, tangling in his hair. Grunts and moans left your mouths, mixing together in the air. John grabbed your thigh, hooking it over his hip to reach a new angle. His other hand grabbed your wrist, holding it above your head, and intertwining your fingers. Everything felt so intense, from the way your body felt below his, to the way John seemed to hit all the right spots. The impending orgasms arose in your bodies, and John smashed his lips to yours, swallowing your moans.
John felt the rubber band in his stomach snap, white hot pleasure rolling down his spinal cord. Moans fell from his lips, his hips losing their rhythm as he spilled himself into the condom. You could feel the warmth fill your body as John tried to keep himself up on shaky arms to not collapse on top of you.
“Damn,” John moaned out, his hips stilling. “I’m sorry,” He laughed awkwardly, “I usually don’t-” You cut him off with a kiss, holding his face in your hands.
“It was perfect,” You said, and John leaned his forehead against yours.
“Do you want to take a bath?” You nodded. “I’m going to pull out now, okay?” John easily moved his hips back, and you whined at the feeling. “Does it hurt?”
“A little,” You answered, “It’s okay.” John pulled the blankets back enough for him to slip out of bed. He could see the tiniest bit of blood on your thighs.
“Lay right there, I’ll be back,” John said, walking to his ensuite bathroom. He threw away the condom and cleaned himself up. He slipped his boxers back on, and grabbed a wash cloth to clean you up. You were tapping your fingers on your tummy when John came back in. You smiled up at him as he kneeled between your legs. You hissed as the cold wash cloth made contact with your skin.
“Sensitive?” John asked.
“Yes,” You nodded your head. A faint blush crept on your cheeks as you looked down at him, cleaning you with almost surgical precision, his tongue sticking out of the side of his mouth. “Did I bleed?”
“A bit,” John kissed your cheek, “It’s normal. Nothing to worry about, sweetheart,” He folded up the cloth, standing up from the bed. John laid back down on the bed, holding your arm out as a sign to come cuddle into his side. Your head rested on his chest, his arm wrapping around your shoulders. He pressed a kiss to the top of your head, as your bare breasts pressed into him. The room was quiet, the only sounds were your steady breathing and the ticking of John’s alarm clock.
“Marry me.” John said. You sat up quickly, looking at him with wide eyes. There was nothing but pure adoration in his brown ones. “I mean. . . not right at this moment,” You chuckled nervously, “But eventually.”
You smiled, kissing his lips. “Can we finish intern year first?”
John mulls it over for a moment, “Sure.” You kissed him once more before settling down back against his chest. John sighed, squeezing your shoulders tightly, pulling you in closer. You closed your eyes, listening to the steady sound of his heartbeat as it lulled you into a restful sleep.
summary: From Iranian origins, particularly Kurdish culture, Vian (ڤیان) translates to 'love' or 'affection,' embodying emotional warmth and connection.
Based on this req: Aaaaahhh congratulations on the 2.5K Rueee!!! • I've been following you for so long and forgive me for the anon ask l'm a little shy But can I please request a fic if that's okay? With Robby x Reader, where they're exes (married or not) with a kid (who's like 2-3 years old, I guess?) and it's just super angsty with all the yearning and lost love and whatnot, until it isn't? 00 angst turned happy with some smut, if that's possible? Angst prompt I loved: "I wish you'd just let me love you the way you deserve to be loved." Smutty bits that l'd worship you for forever if you include them: Body worship and lactation kink? Thank youuuuu so much ily
warnings: 18+ mdni! Smut, angst, ex husband dad!robby, mom!reader, doctor!reader, angst with a happy ending, chubby!reader, exes to lovers, English isn’t my first language<3
wc: 16.8k+
an: posting this amidst the digital blackout in here. This is for the daughter I’ll never have, because I’d name her Vian too. It’s also pronounced as Vi-yun<3
“MAMA!”
“Daddy’s right there with you, baby!” You yell from downstairs, packing your daughter’s clothes and snacks with her favorite bottles as Robby bathes her in your bathroom.
“MAMA, MAMA, MAMAAAAAAA.”
“Fucking– deep breaths, deep breaths, Mama,” you squeeze your eyes shut, counting from one to four to inhale, hold for seven and exhale for eight, “He better be fixing the faucet…”
You march toward the staircase, praying to the skies for Robby to be busy doing something because you told him thag you needed the break after his three month sabbatical. You need to have the silence, the quiet of your home and spend it by getting wine drunk while knowing your daughter is with her dad in the saftey of his place. Vian has her father with him, she should not be needing you now.
You love your daughter with every cell — no, scratch that with every atom — in your body. She wasn’t planned, but not an accident either. She was the most pleasant surprise of your life, a gift when you and Robby needed a glue to your marriage, but even her sweet smiles and babbles couldn’t hold you together for long.
She is your light, your source of energy, your reason to keep going. She is your entire life, and now, you need Robby to step in and do his fatherly duties.
You knock on the bathroom door, slowly pushing it open, thinking you’ll find Robby crouched down next to the tub, not inside it, naked with his boxers on and chuckling when Vivin she splashes water on his face.
“What are you two doing?” You look at them with a shocked look, trying to mask the gentle warmth that spreads through you with an annoyed frown, but when Vivin turns around at the sound of your voice, you grin at her, “Heyyy, what’s up, baby?”
“Mama, play wit daddy!” She slams her palms on the edge of the water, laughing when water hits Robby’s face and he shakes his head vigorously to splash the water back on her, making her squeal and kick her feet in excitement.
“Yeah, you’re playing with daddy, baby,” you kneel next to the pile of clothes, pinching her chubby cheek when she turns around to look at you, “You like the water? Maybe we should sign you up for swimming classes.”
“She’s 2, sweetheart,” you pin him with a glare at the pet name before diverting your attention to your daughter, running your fingers over her small back, pouring water with your palm over her shoulders. Robby swallows hard, holding your daughter up by her armpits before turning her around so she is leaning back on his chest, “Maybe when she’s 3…?”
“Yeah, we’ll talk about it,” you say dismissively, cooing when Vian picks up her duck toy and starts dipping her into the water, letting it spring back up to the surface with a delightful giggle, craning her small neck to look at Robby, making sure he’s seen her magic too.
They look the carbon copy of each other. She is his daughter through and through; brunette hair, big bobba irises with the same gleam in their eyes. You fell in love with one pair once, and now you have another with sprinkles of your own beauty.
If only Robby didn’t pull away, if only he could see you as someone he trusted…
“How did she convince you to get in with her?” You rest the side of your face on your arm on the edge of the tub, not bothering to even look at Robby, “That’s her trick, you know? She tries her hardest to get me in with her every time.”
“I… caved really fast,” he smiles shyly, trying to catch your gaze and when he does, the breath is knocked out of your lungs and you are reminded of how much you loved this man. You still do, but the pain he caused you and the regular fights you had the last few months of your marriage weree too hurtful to brush under the rug.
“She has a way of persuading people,” you smile when she stands on her feet slowly, Robby holding her by the waist and help her stumble closer to you, “Prettiest girl in the world,” she leans down to rub her nose against yours, a habit you both have when you wanna show affection — somethimg you used to do with Robby too when he was having a tough day.
“Her mother’s daughter, I don’t even stand a chance,” he leans forward to kiss the back of her head, “Think we should get out, sweetpea. The water’s getting cold.”
“Yeah, let me get her towel.”
“Out?” She turns around to look at Robby, a pout forming on her flushed chubby cheeks, shaking her head side to side, “No, Vivi don’t want out!”
“You’ll catch a cold if you don’t get out, baby bear,” you wait with open arms on the floor, watching as Robby kiss Vian’s face softly before lowering her in front of you, and you have the chance to wrap the towel around her and blow raspberries on her stomach to prevent a crying session.
She doesn’t cry often, and even when she does, she is so quiet. She pouts a lot, cries softly, sobs on occasion but never a full breakdown. Except for one time you and Robby were having a screaming match and were reminded that you were responsible for a little human being and you had to watcg yourself.
“I love you so much,” you mumble into her hair, drying her arms and holding her close as you stand up and put her on the sink, “Look at my clean girl! Gorgeous, gorgeous, gorgeous.”
“Lobe you!” She yells, kicking her legs happily as she allows you to wipe her face with the towel, “Lobe you, Mama!”
“What about me?” You both look at Robby stepping out of the tub, his chest dripping with water as he shyly rubs the back of his neck, his cheeks and neck flushing under your watchful eyes.
“Lobe you, daddy! Lobe you, lobe you, lobe you!” She makes grabby hands at him, and he leans forward to kiss both of her fists before straightening his back so he doesn’t get her wet again, “Huggies?”
“Huggies later, baby bear, let’s get you clothed first,” you pull the towel’s hat over her head and and pick her up, kissing her cheek while you turn your back to Robby, letting her wave and give him a quick kiss. You glance over your shoulder at him, “Y’know where the towels are, right?”
“Yes, I do,” he replies quickly, waiting for you to get out of the bathroom to get rid of his boxers and dry his body, “Same cabinet?”
“Yup,” you close the door behind you, making a beViane for Vian’s room, holding her closer when you feel her shiver in your arms, “Let’s put on something warm before you leave with daddy, little bear.”
“I go wit daddy?” She asks quietly, patiently waiting for you to come back when you lay her down on her changing sheets and hand out her favorite toy — ironically, Robby’s childhood teddy bear — as you pull out a diaper and long sleeve onesie with a pretty pair of pants that go with the color of her top.
“Yes, baby. Daddy’s taking you home with him tonight and you get to spend it together! I’m sure you miss Jerry and Sully!” You say enthusiastically, desperately trying not to show how you won’t come back for the night to pick her up. “I’m sure you’ll have so much fun.”
“You come too?” Oh no. “Daddy, Vivi, Mama, sleepoer!”
“I have work to do, baby,” you dress her quickly, let out a soft gasp when her face twists and she sneezes loudly, her small body shaking for a second. You chuckle a little and kiss her forehead, standing her up on her feet to pull her pants up, “Bless you!”
“Tank you!” She holds your shoulders, swaying back and forth with her teddy tucked under her arm, “Mama, daddy’s friend be there?”
“Daddy’s friend? You mean uncle Jack, baby?” You pick her up, putting her on your hip as you walk to her drawer to pull out a strawberry hairclip and her small hair dryer because she despises yours, sitting with her in your lap in front of the mirror, “Jack and Dana might be there, but you have to ask daddy.”
“No, Null!” She frowns, pushing her bottom lip out a little and that makes you stop. She kicks her leg patiently as you dry her hair, deep in thoughts as you untangle her soft strands slowly with her small brush, breathing her scent so deeply you’re sure you’ve carved the smell of heaven deep in your Limbic system.
“Null? Who’s Null, baby?” You turn off the dryer and pull it out of the plug, clipping her small bangs with lots of small kisses to the crown of her head, and suddenly, it dawns on you who she is talking about.Noelle. Noelle Hastings. The Noell Hastings you’ve had buttheads with over cases, the beautiful gorgeous tantalizing Noelle Hastings, the one who’d always flirted with your husband, the same fucking one he was seeing before he left for his sabbatical. And you had no idea your daughter had met her. “You mean Noelle, sweetling?”
“Yup, yup,” she slowly wiggles her way out of your arms and on the floor, urging you to get up and hold her hand as to keep her from bolting downstairs, her small hand fits perfectly in yours and she seems very pleased by the safety your fingers bring her, “Null. She at daddy house! I saw her, Mama!”
“I believe you, baby bear,” you nod and grin at her, smoothing your free hand over the small frown on her face before you lead her out of the room — or she does with how hard she is pulling on your hand — and downstairs to where Robby probably is waiting. “Do you want to watch Frozen again?”
“Really?” Her eyes light up, a huge smile covering her face, “Please, please! Ice cream too?”
“You just got out of the shower, baby bear! I tell daddy, see if he has some at his place,” you haul her up by one hand on the last stair, making her squeal and laugh in delight by the short adrenaline rush in her small body, “Do you need help with the tv or–”
“No help! Vivi know how to put favorite!”
“Of course you do,” you shake your head affectionately, walking through the living room as you watch her bolt for the remote. You make sure she is sitting with her teddy bear before turning around to make your way to the kitchen, finding Robby leaning on the counter with his eyes on his daughter, “We need to talk.”
“Sure, is it about–”
“Listen, Robby,” you stand closer, squeezing your eyes shut as you breathe in the cleanness and warmth of his body, looking down at your toes to regulate your thoughts. He shouldn’t have this effect on you anymore. But he does. Oh, he does. He is still so beautiful, and so overwhelmingly secure as he stands in front of you. “you are free to do as you please, okay? I don’t mean…”
“I’m not sure I follow, sweetheart–”
“Stop, stop,” you groan, stroking your neck in anxiety, “Look, I don’t care who you bring home, or spend your time with, or who you fuck,” oh, but you do, “What I care about is you keep my daughter away from them until you are in a serious relationship then we will talk. But ‘till then, Robby, keep your flings away from Vivi.”
“I have never brought anyone near our daughter,” he catches your gaze by lowering his head until you are eye to eye, and you can see the fire in his irises, “I haven’t even had sex since I left for Alberta, and that’s a good four months ago. I’m not seeing anyone, not that I need to explain anything to you–”
“Bravo! Thank you for keeping your dick in your pants, but I have a question though, pray tell, how the fuck does she know Noelle fucking Hastings?” You cock your head to the side, glaring at him with all the fire in your eyes, “Because she frowned when she found out she was gonna come to your place. She asked if she’d be there. I swear, Robby, if she has met my daughter and you haven’t told me, I’ll skin you alive myself.”
“I have nev– oh.”
“Yeah, oh is fucking right,” you roll your eyes so hard you are relieved you don’t get a headache immediately, “Talk and I mean actually say everything that happened.”
“It wasn’t that they met,” he sighs, resting his palm on the countertop while the other goes to his hip, his eyes dashing toward Vian who sings happily with Elsa and runs ariund the living room, smiling at the sight of her before he turns back to you, “It was a night when she was staying with me before July. I forgot to tell Noelle that our plans were cancelled, and she accidentally drove to my place. I couldn’t really send her away like that so she came inside, and they saw each other very briefly–”
“I don’t want any woman around my daughter unless you are serious about her,” you try to sound stern but Robby’s expression is so attentive you want to scream, “I don’t like Hastings but that’s because of our jobs,” No, you also don’t like her because you’re jealous. She is very beautiful and not a mother, but he doesn’t need to know that, “If you want her to be a permanent presence in your life–”
“We stopped talking after I left Pittsburgh,” he is so subtle with the way he shifts until he has your back pressed againstthe counter and his hands are on both sides, caging you against his body, “It was just a fling, nothing serious, nothing worth fighting over.”
“I don’t care,” you whisper, a little breathless, a little angry at him for knowing how to make you cave, “I only care when it affects my daughter.”
“Good to know,” he laughs a little, and for a second you think he might turn this into a crazy minute of self hatred towards himself like he used to back when you were married, ‘You’re telling me I don’t care about my daughter?’ Would probably be the first line and followed by a ‘You think I’m incable of caring about her’, and that’d end up in a screaming match.
But now, he is just smiling sadly, and you can feel how his hands are itching to hold onto your waist, his face mere inches away from yours as he leans down a little to press a kiss to your forehead.
Your breath hitches, chest aching with so much unresolved tension and feViangs for the man in front of you. You try not to close your eyes and give into the strong urges that are screaming inside your head to let go and enjoy.
“I won’t jeopardize our family over a hookup, sweetheart.”
“Stop,” you hiss, pushing him away by your hands on his chest, ignoring the pained look he gives you. “Stop doing whatever you’re doing right now. I can’t handle you being like- like this!”
“Like what?” He whispers, hands coming up to hold you by the wrists, making sure he is looking straight into your eyes, “I want to mend what I’ve broken–”
“We are divorced–”
“I want our family to get back together. I want to try and be better for Vivi, for you, for myself. I need this to happen or I’ll lose my mind–”
“You will lose your mind?” You let out a quick hysterical laugh, pushing him away completely, freeing your hands from his grasp, “I have been losing my mind for months! You think it’s easy to just go to work and be met with awful stares when I have to come down to your ED? Mending what’s broken doesn’t happen over a single night. I don’t fucking trust you, you broke my heart, Robby. I loved you but you broke my fucking heart.”
“I–”
“Mama! Daddy!” Vian runs to the two of you, and you have to look up at the ceiling to dry your tears. She doesn’t like it when either of you are crying. Robby is quicker to get himself together, smiling broadly and kneViang down to her height. She wraps her arms around her neck and crawls onto his lap, “Olaf here! Watch wit me!”
“Let’s go,” he picks her up, looking at you when Vian reaches for your hand to get your attention, “You coming?”
“Of course! I can never miss my favorite movie,” you follow them through the living room, waiting for Robby to sit down first and place Vivi next to him. You sit down and she immediately starts snuggling into your side, her small hand wrapped tightly around two of his fingers.
“Jack’s gonna drop Samira here, you wanna go with him to his place?” You ask Robby, your hand moving up and down Vivi’s back, your chin resting on the top of her head as uou look at your ex husband softly, “Or you both could stay for dinner–”
“No, no,” he shakes his head, his eyes not leaving the TV as he plays with his daughter’s fingers absentmindedly, “I talked to him a few hours ago, we’ll go to my place. You need a break and definitely a girl’s night with Samira.”
“You’re right for the first time in a very long time,” you huff out a smal laugh when Robby snorts and shakes his head, “I need to get wine drunk.”
“Absolutely, and me and this little girl,” he leans down to bury his face into Vian’s neck to tickle her, enjoying how she tries to push him away with a shriek, “Will have an amazing sleepover with Uncle Jack.”
“Unce Jack?” Her ears perk up at the sound, eyes wide and glimmering with hope and excitement, “He coming too?”
“Of course, baby bear,” he chuckles when he sees her grinning and clutching her teddy in her hands, snuggling closer to your side in contentment, “He’s gonna stay for dinner too.”
“Happy meal?” She crawls into his lap this time, whispering to him with a quiet giggle, “with strawberry milkshake?”
“Shhh, don’t let Mama hear you,” he whispers, loud enough for you to actually hear, and you shake your head and look at the tv with a grin on your face. Hell, you fucking love Vian. “But yeah, whatever you want, we’ll get it with uncle Jack.”
“Yeeeees,” she holds her fist up, and Robby throws his head back and laughs loudly, bringing his own fist up to slowly bump it into hers.
“How did you learn that, sweetpea?”
“You and unce Jack do,” she shrugs and turns around, her back to his chest as she resumes watching her cartoon.
You cackle at the thought of her observing her favorite people so closely to the point of learning their habits. She has a tendency of watching, listening, noticing small details that no one else does. It’s cute, and it’s very Robby — minus the listening because he did not listen when you wanted him to.
****
None of you notice how the time passes, but Robby does. He notices the warmth that radiates from your arm as you and Vian somehow end up cuddling him on the couch. He notices the scrunch of your nose in affection when Vivi laughs. He notices the small stain on the collar of your shirt from your daughter’s snack. He also notices the not so subtle sneezes that come from his little girl, but he keeps his mouth shut because he is not going to ruin your night.
He notices everything about his girls.
His eyes are wandering all over your face, taking in the slight twitch of your eyes when Anna stars freezing and so does your daughter, clutching her teddy furiously in her small fists.
And then your eyes… your lashes kiss your under eye everytime you blink, they keep your gorgeous irises safe from the world, and now, you are gazing up at him and he needs to pull his head out of his ass and fucking focus.
“You okay?” You ask, straightening your back, “You’re not watching.”
“Yeah, no–”
Ding. Ding.
“I’ll get it,” you kiss the top of Vivi’s head before walking towards the door, sighing in relief when Samira and Jack come into view, Samira holding a large tote bag with two wine bottles and lots of snacks inside. “It’s so fucking good to see you.”
“Hey, lovey,” she hugs you after she hands the bag to Jack, engulfing you in a tight hug, humming when she feels your arms tightening around her, “Missed you so much.”
“Hey, what ‘bout me?” Jack scoffs playfully, but his voice is enough to alert someone from the couch.
“UNCE JACK!”
She is fierce with how she jumps out of Robby’s arms and bolts to the door. You have approximately thirteen seconds to pull Samira out of the way and watch as she throws herself into Jack’s arms, who easily catches her with one arm.
“Heey,” Jack chuckles and picks her up effortlessly, “‘sup soldier?”
“‘Sup captain?” She gives a military salute, giggling when he kisses her cheek, “You come wit us?”
“Absolutely, I bought your dog and cat food, too. Heard we also gonna get some happy meal for ourselves, yeah?” She nods happily, kicking her feet and wrapping her free arm around his neck.
“Are you ignoring me?” Samira pokes her head between their bodies to get Vian’s attention, and when she does, now she is the one who is holding Vivi in her arms. She is way too quick to jump from one hug to another, and she loves it.
“Mira!”
“Auntie ‘Mira, baby.” You stand back and let her marvel in their attention before she has to go, enjoying the kisses and giggles she lets out while they hold her.
“Hey, brother,” Robby makes his way toward the group, Vivi’s coat and bag on his shoulder as they clap and give each other a side hug before he looks at Samira, “Hey, how are you?”
“Fine,” she nods, bouncing Vivi in her arms before she puts her down, kissing her head and getting her bag back, “Have a great night, guys. Now, shoo shoo, we have work to do.”
“Mamaaaaaaa I miss you,” you kneel down to meet her bear hug, holding her close and tightly, pressing kiss after kiss to her soft hair, “I lobe you.”
“I love you, too, baby bear.” You pull back a little to look in her eyes, cupping her face in your hands, rubbing your nose along hers, “I’m gonna miss you so much, but you are with daddy and he takes such a good care of you! Listen to him just as you always do and send me pictures!”
“Okay,” she hugs you one last time before giving Samira a kiss and skip to where Jack is standing, holding his hand as he helps her put her shoes on.
“I’m only a call away, Robby–”
“I know–”
“If anything happens, just call me, I’ll be there under ten minutes–”
“It’s a twenty minutes drive, please, sweetheart,” he grabs your arms, forcing you to breathe for a second befote he kisses your forehead gently, “I’m her dad, I know what I’m doing. Please, enjoy your night. Samira,” she looks at the woman standing behind you, “Please, keep her occupied. Thank you.”
“Sure thing, boss.”
“Take care of yourself, get drunk, and don’t do anything stupid,” he squeezes your arms again then follows Jack and Vivi out of the house, “Have a great night, ladies!”
****
“She’s been sneezing.”
“I know.”
“Coughing too.”
“I know.”
“She’s also a bit warm—”
“Jesus fucking Christ, I know!”
“Bad word!” Vian stabs Robby with a fry before pushing the entire thing into her mouth and Jerry — Robby’s German Shepherd resting under her feet — makes a grumbling noise that makes her smile for a second, “Why fighting?”
“We’re not fighting, baby bear. We’re diagnosing,” He nods at her, eating his own meal as his watchful eyes stare at her with such an intensity, “How are you feeling?”
“Tired,” she replies quietly, her usual cheery expression by a shadow Robby knows so well. She is sick and he hates it. “Vivi don’t want milkshake.”
“Why not, sweet girl?” Jack runs his hand over her head, shaking his head as he feels the warmth of her skin, “Do you want some water?”
“Vivi don’t feel good, daddy,” she pouts, crawling into his lap and ignoring her meal and Uncle Jack. It must be that bad to not care about her favorite non parent person. She clucthes Robby’s shirt and her teddy tightly, sniffing a little, “Want Mama.”
“Mama’s busy, let’s eat something while uncle Jack brings us some medicine, okay?” Jack is already in the kitchen, rummaging through Robby’s cabinet until he finds the pills and whatever his friend owns. “Another nugget?”
“No,” she shakes her head, forehead slumping against Robby’s solid chest, trying to make herelf as small as possible and Robby wraps his arms around her, “Want huggies.”
“I’m giving you huggies, little bear. Let’s go wash your face and feet and get in bed together until uncle Jack brings your favorite medicine, okay?”
“Strawberry?” She rests her head on his biceps as he picks her up, kissing her forehead as he gazes gently down at her. She is warm, and he hates it. He knows what it is, he knows it from her sluggish grasp, the smell of her breath, her sulken eyes and pale features.
“Yes, sweetpea, with water too. But we gotta get your temperature down a little first.” She groans a little before he sits her on the sink and turns on the faucet, wetting his hands with cool water before he gently rubs her feet, tickling under her toes until she lets out a tired giggle — it’s a giggle nonetheless. A win’s a win.
Robby changes her clothes and when he enters his own room, Jack’s already waiting with the medicine. They gently coax her to swallow the bitter strawberry acetaminophen with her favorite water bottle and tuck her under the blanket. Sully — your cat who you’ve given her to Robby for a few days to take care of — sneaks under the blanket to snuggle Vian and her teddy.
She’s out like a light.
“You should call her.”
“I can take care of my sick daughter, Jack.” Robby’s pinned to his spot with a glare from his friend. He shakes his head, stroking Vivi’s hair so softly it’s barely noticeable, “I don’t want to ruin her night.”
“You won’t, but if you don’t tell her, she’ll be fucking furious,” Jack stands up, stretching his arms over his head, giving Robby a sympathetic yet pointed look, “Call her.”
“She thinks I’m incapable of…” he inhales sharply, feViang the back of his throat stinging as he looks down at his daughter — her cheeks tainted red with her fever — and he reaches down to kiss her brows, “I don’t want her to think I’m a bad father.”
“Vivi’s fighting a virus, she won’t think you’re anything other than a capable caring father. That’s it. She’d be angrier if she didn’t get a call from you now.”
“I’ll call her when I think Vivi’s stable.”
“Okay, well, I told you what you had to know,” Jack sighs, resting his hands on his hips as he shakes his head, “I’m gonna go pick Samira up. Call her, please.”
****
“He is fucking with my head, Mira!”
“When is he not?”
“Ugh, I hate him but I also fucking love him,” your feign a cry, throwing your head back on the couch’s arm, tangling your legs with Samira’s as you both drink the one third of the second bottle, “He’s been so nice since he got back. He’s only sat behind the motorcycle once! He’s been sending gigantic amounts of money to Vian’s saving account, he’s also bought me a new car. But money can’t solve everything!”
“Of course it can’t! But… I’m totally one hundred percent on your side, but we gotta give him credit, he’s not once skipped a therapy sessions in the past month.” Samira shrugs, squeezing your knee when you glare at her, “Look, he fucked up, like really fucking bad. He pulled away from you, he didn’t talk to you, he… said things that broke your heart real bad– I don’t know! It’s just… he’s be so oddly nice, even to me, and you know how he used to treat me.”
“He was a dick, he is still a dick. Sometimes he forgets we’re not married anymore! He touches and kisses and waltz inside my house and fixes things and tries to talk to me about getting back together but—“ you take a deep breath, “Mira, did you know he was sleeping with Hastings?”
“What?!”
“Yeah, before he left for his spiritual trip in the open road,” you roll your eyes, drowning the rest of your wine before you sit up, “She is so hot and gorgeous, and I’m… I’m me, Mira! She doesn’t have stretch marks, a c-section scar, she is fit and flirtious and so dreamy! How am I ever gonna fill her shoes?”
“Honey, you’re not gonna fill her shoes. It was her that tried to fill your shoes and failed. Look where Robby is now! You should try and put him in his place one way or another.”
“Look at you, expert in relationships,” you cackle and shriek when she slaps your side, “Abbot is treating you so well, huh?”
“You’re the expert in relationships! You’ve been married!” She tries to argue with you, but you can see the slights flustered look in her eyes. Oh, she is down baaad.
“And fucking divorced too! No expert is divorced with a kid, Mira,” you sit up, pouring more wine into your glass, “It’s so bizarre, y’know? He is everywhere in this house; in my bedroom, in the kitchen, in Vivi’s room. He haunts this place when he isn’t around and when he is… Vivi’s so happy. She is smiling and laughing all the time and I hate myself for taking that away from her at such an early age.”
“Babe, you did what was best at the time, okay? You were hurting and that was affecting your job as a doctor and as a mother. Robby wasn’t okay, he wasn’t capable of making a rational choice, you did what you had to.” She reaches to wipe your tears with a small ‘awe, lovey’, and kisses your shoulder before pulling you to her side, “You didn’t take anything from Vian. Maybe now… you can work on getting back together.”
“Okay, first of all, no.” You point at her, shaking your head, eyes dazed and looking down at your glass, “I ain’t gonna just take him back like that. He hurt me, okay? Really fucking hurt me and I was so broken for months. You saw me, Mira, every time I came down for a consult I looked like shit. I don’t want that again, I need- need stability from him.”
“Maybe he can offer stability this time,” her hands find your hair when you flop down on top of her, “Let me tell you something, I have an insane resource at home, and he may or may not have mentioned how much… Robby has missed you.”
“Fuck him.”
“That’s a terrible idea.”
“No like literally, fuck him.”
“I mean… maybe not so terrible if you can blow off some steam–”
“Get the fuck out of my face,” you sit up and chuckle lightheartedly, “If I fuck him, then we’ll be both screwed. It’ll make things waaaay worse.”
“Okay, yeah—”
Ding. Ding.
“Damn, you gotta go this soon?” You pout, engulfing her in a tight hug on the couch, not letting her get up, “Nooooo. I hate how your boyfriend’s getting more time with you than me. Is he your favorite attending now too?”
“Absolutely fucking not! My favorite attending is the hot cardiologist upstairs who has the sweetest baby girl in the world,” she kisses your forehead and gently untangles herself from you, both of you making haste when you hear Jack knock on the door.
“I’ll get it,” you squeeze her arm before going for the door, opening it and giving Jack a small smile, “Hey you.”
“Hello,” Jack gives you a tired easy smile before pointing at Samira, “Came to steal this one from you.”
“Very rude and unpleasant of you, we were having an amaaaazing time, weren’t we, Mira?”
“Of course, lovey,” she comes and embraces you tightly, holding you close and rocking you side to side gently, which makes Jack snort, showing how drunk the two of you really are. “See you soon?”
“Yup, absolutely!”
“Before we go…” Jack starts, looking straight into your eyes and holding Samira by the elbow as she tries to put her shoes on without wobbling, “There’s something I must tell you.”
“I don’t like your tone,” you say, heart rate picking up in an instant, mind already wheViang around with ten thousand different scenarios. You try not to show it, try to shove the stress down, but you are already fidgeting with your fingers and shifting your weight from one foot fo another in less than thirty seconds over and over.
“Yeah, you won’t like what I have to say,” Jack says, eyes darting from your face to your hands, but Samira beats it to him and reaches to hold you with steady fingers. He gazes at her with a grateful smile before he looks back at you, “Deep breaths, okay? Vivi’s sick–”
“What the fuck?!” You sqreech like a hen, already reaching for your coat and you would have been successful if Samira didn’t grab you by your shoulders to stop you, “What do you mean she is sick?Was she vomiting? Did she had too much milkshake? I told him not to give her too much, but she is so fucking convincing–”
“Hey, hey,” Jack grabs your shoulder over Samira’s hand, squeezing you gently to get your attention amidst your spiral, “She isn’t vomiting, she is stable, she didn’t have any milkshake, she could barely even eat her dinner–”
“She didn’t eat?! What the fuck were you two doing? Did you even give her medicine? Can’t even give my daughter to fucking doctors–”
“Okay, you’re reaching now.” Jack’s halfhearted glare is enough to pin you to your spot, but his expression softens immediately when he notices the tears coating your lashline, so does Samira, pulling you in a tight hug. Jack sighs, “Sober up, sleep a few hours, then go to Robby’s place. It’s just a cold, okay? She is fine.”
“She clearly isn’t, she is sick! Why didn’t he call me?” You break away from them, running your hands down your face, tears falling from your eyes as you start pacing around, “She was sneezing today… fuck, I’m such an idiot, I should have noticed the signs. Why didn’t Robby say anything?”
“Because he didn’t want you to think he isn’t capable of taking care of his daughter,” Jack sighs, and you stop dead in your tracks in front of him. “He said he’ll tell you when she slept it off for the night, he didn’t want to ruin your night. He said you deserved to have this, but I couldn’t keep this to myself.”
You take a shaky breath, hands mindlessly reaching for Samira, and she silently grabs you, linking her fingers through yours as she waits for you to process everything.
Your baby is sick. She is sick and she is away from you. You wish you could have done something more, but alcohol is running in your system and it’s dulling your senses. All senses except the intense anxiety inside your core.
Robby. Fuck, Robby… he thinks you find him incapable. And that couldn’t be any farther from the truth. You know he loves Vian to the point he’d do unspeakable things to keep her safe and sound. Hell, he’d even break his leg if it meant she’d laugh. Of course you think he can take care of her. He’s her father, and she is his everything. He’d bend mountains for her to heal her. She is in good hands, and it pains you to know he thinks that negatively.
But you’re a mother, and mothers get anxious and antsy when their child is sick, right?
“Listen, hun,” Samira’s gentle voice coaxes you out of your mind, grounding you until she is sure you are listening, “Drink a glass of water, pop an Advil and sleep. Vivi needs her mom focused and ready, you can’t do anything for her if you’re not well.”
“Mira’s right,” Jack says, “Please, listen to her. Take care of yourself first, then you can go and tend to Vivi.”
“My baby’s sick,” you pout, wiping your tears a bit too harshly, “Fuck, she’s sick! I didn’t even notice it!”
“And that’s okay,” Samira replies gently, her hands stroking your arms, her eyes holding a gentle sympathetic swirl in them, “You’re allowed to miss a few signs.”
“But I’m a doctor, if I miss something, I might kill my patient–”
“Alright, that’s enough of you being awake. Let’s get you in bed,” Jack takes off his shoes quickly you don’t even get to notice him struggling with his right one, “You sleep, then you get to his place. You must listen to me, for Vivi’s sake.”
With a sniffle, you nod.
****
Four hours. That’s how much sleep you managed to get before you were sprinting up with heart palpitations. You had to get to Robby’s place immediately.
You managed to grab everything you needed for a noodle soup from your fridge, Vivi’s medicine from your cabinet, filled another bag with her clothes and toys and her favorite blanket.
And as you said earlier evening; you managed to turn a twenty minute to a ten minute drive. Passing a few red lights carelessly and holding onto the wheel so tightly your knuckles begin to hurt. You are relentless with how you drive, going past the drive limit and bouncing your left knee when you had to stop.
Soon, you are knocking on Robby’s door softly, not really wishing to wake your daughter up. You are shaking in your spot, fingers tightening and loosing around the bags you carry rapidly. You shift your weight, rapping your knuckles against the door again until you hear a soft padding inside, and the mere movement inside makes you sigh in relief.
Robby opens the door, and your eyes are immediately drawn to the dark circles around his eyes and the sulken sick look on his face. You sigh sadly, biting your bottom lip as you gaze at him tenderly.
“You look like shit,” you say, walking inside the house after he pushes the door open fully. You drop the bags on the dining table gently, turning around to look at him with a small exhale.
“Gee, thanks,” his own eyes widen in surprise at the hoarseness of his voice, clearing his throat to make it better only for his voice to not come out completely, “Fuck…”
“How is she?” You cross the space between the two of you, reaching to grab his hand and not to your surprise, you find his skin warmer than usual — warmer than it is supposed to be — and you press your fingers over his Radial pulse, counting each beat under your skin.
“Knocked out on acetaminophen, didn’t even need convincing to go to bed.” He explains, closing his eyes when your cool palm comes in contact with his cheek gently, then the back of your fingers on his forehead, “We gave her food and tried to tell her to finish her meal but… all in vain.”
“It’s okay– oh, hey, baby,” Jerry pants at your feet, standing on his feet with his paws on your stomach as he stands up and waits for his ear scratches — no barking though, as if he knows someone is asleep upstairs. “I missed you so much.”
“What did you bring?” Robby coughs, covering them with his elbow, and you kiss Jerry’s head before diverting your attention back to Robby, shaking your head in disapproval, and he rolls his eyes, “Don’t look at me like that.”
“Like what?” You cross your arms over your chest, looking at him over the edge of your glasses.
“Like I’m sick.”
“Are you not?” You scoff and move to the kitchen, finding the medicine box already on the counter, grabbing the tablets and a glass of water before moving to where he is standing, “Have this and get in the bed.”
“I’m not sick,” he stands his ground and you have to bite your tongue when you notice his nose scrunching before he is sneezing loudly into his shirt. He groans, his nose turning a bright shade of red and he looks so tired. “Maybe I am.”
“That’s what I thought,” you hand him the water and pills, “Where is Vivi?”
“My room,” he whispers, following you upstairs slowly, and you sigh in relief when you find your daughter sleeping quietly with her teddy and Sully in the middle of Robby’s bed, her cheeks flushed and lips parted, signaling her stuffed nose.
“Oh, baby bear,” you pout, making a beeline to the side of the bed to sit next to her, slowly caressing the few strands that stick to her sweaty forehead, “She looks so small…”
He doesn’t respond, just sighs and nods, standing in the doorframe with a soft smile on his lips. He is exhausted, but he wants to admire this view as long as he can.
“Robby, get in the bed,” you say without taking your eyes off Vian, kissing her forehead and rubbing her back, smiling when Sully stirs awake and meows at you, stretching her paws over your hand when you reach to scratch her belly before she jumps out of the bed.
Your baby looks so small and safe under Robby’s large duvet, tucked under it and breathing with her mouth open. The last time she was sick was also the first time you had to handle it without Robby being around all the time. Her first sickness after your divorce.
You keep your nose buried in her head, wincing slightly and frowning when she coughs in her sleep, your hand moving to her chest to slowly rub over her shirt, warming up her skin as to soothe her. You can’t do anything besides physical touch for her and it burns you inside out.
“I’ll take the couch–”
“Get in the fucking bed,” you scold him gently, standing up to take off your coat and unbutton your jeans before making room in front your daughter on the bed and crawling under the duvet as well, “It’s big enough for all of us. You can’t rest on that damn leather couch.”
“You still hate that couch, huh?” He smirks but it soon turns into a pained groan as he sits on the bed and crawls under the duvet lying on his side to look at ihis daughter, his dark eyes moving from her rising shoulders to your face, “I’m sorry.”
“For what?” You whisper, finger caressing the slope of Vian’s nose slowly, smiling when you glance at Robby’s face, finding the same curve on his face as well.
Robby’s hand finds Vivi’s small legs, slowly tracing gently up and down before his eyes begin to get drowsy, but before the medicine takes over his mind, putting him in a deep hazy state.
“S’rry for ruinin’ your night…”
Your heart breaks into a millions pieces the way he says it; so defeated, so fragile. You didn’t know he was beating himself up this bad. After your divorce, coparenting and cardio consultation were the only visible strings between you, but the invisible ones… the heartache, the longing, the missing hours on your cold beds. You knew Robby like the back of your hand, but after divorce, you had to be the one who pulled away and stopped giving him multiple chances just to keep him around.
But this… this fear of upsetting you, this fear of how you perceive him after your divorce is new.
“Sleep well, bear,” you kiss your daughter’s head, eyes trained on Robby’s flushed cheeks and eyelashes kissing his cheeks. You have to fist the sheets in your hand in order to not reach and touch him, to soothe him when he is sick.
You glance between the two of them, wishing you had the power to protect them from everything and anything.
****
“Thanks for coming down,” Robby nods, giving you his signature smile before looking you up and down, making heat rise to your cheeks, “Thought it’d be a good case for teaching.”
“And you couldn’t do it by yourself, Doctor Robby?” You push your fists into the pockets of your white coat, nudging his elbow with yours, eliciting a shy shrug, “You want me to call her, don’t you?”
“I mean if you want to–”
“I always wanna talk to my daughter,” you roll your eyes at him, leaning on the work stations in the southern wing, “But y’know, you could call her yourself. The babysitter doesn’t bite.”
“She’s young, she might get the wrong idea,” he shrugs like he didn’t just say the funniest thing possible.
You try to hold back your laugh, you really try, but it only comes out as a snort and then you are covering your face and laughing as quietly as possible. You missed hiw cockiness, truly, because it wasn’t like he would be outwardly confident about his looks and demeanor, only with you. It’s refreshing getting glimpses of your husband.
“Not everyone wants to get into your pants, Dr. Robby,” you bite the inside of your cheek, shaking your head as his cheek turn into the nicest shade of red, “She has a boyfriend and she is way younger than you, even youngee than me. Cross my heart she won’t be interested in you other than your money.”
“How’d you know she has a boyfriend?” He rests his palm on the table, leaning a little closer to you so he can whisper, “Has he hit on you? Do I need to make a move or something–”
“Oh, please,” you scoff, glaring at him over the rim of your glasses even though you can’t see him clearly like this, “Firt of all, he hasn’t. Second, you’re my ex so technically you have no say in anything regarding my love life and third, we went out for ice cream with the babysitter and Vivi and he came to pick up his girlfriend.”
“So he met Vivi too? How have I never been told about this–”
“Jesus, Robby, get your shit together,” you shoulder past him, moving towards the central station with a smile when you notice Samira standing there with a tablet, Robby following you with a slight pout on his lips, “Hey!”
“Hey, doc,” Samira hugs you, squeezing your arm before she hands you the tablet, “Need your eyes on this one. Robby’s been up my ass about this, ‘call her down call her down’ and when I didn’t he got mad and did it himself.”
“You seriously bullied Mira to call me down? What are you so afraid of?” You huff out a laugh and look down at the screen, “What do you need me to do about it?”
“Can you give him a bed upstairs?” He asks, looking at you over your shoulder, standing right behind you as he tries to be subtle about staring at you, “And I’m… afraid of you.”
“Good, you should be terrified of me, I’m your ex wife, remember?” You give him a sarcastic smile before looking back at Samira, “I think I can find him a bed upstairs. You gotta let me check with my charge nurse first.”
“Thank you, hun,” you hug her again before she moves to the other side of the room, leaving you and Robby alone again, and Robby takes his time grabbing the tablet from your hands and putting it on the rack next to the others.
“So…”
“So?”
“There’s this thing happening in a few nights, charity for the hospital. Fundraisers, auctions, you name it and it’ll be there. I was told that every head of the department has to attend and I was wondering if you’d come.”
“Y’know I’m not the head of the department, Dr. Robby. I wasn’t invited, really.” You shrug, turning around to look at him fully now, reaching in your pocket for the phone, “I’d love to spend time with my daughter though.”
“So… would you like to, I don’t know, pay the babysitter a bit more so she comes on her night off? So you’re free to join me there?”
“You’re asking me out?” You chuckle, shaking your head, thinking nothing of it because Robby’s your ex husband, you are divorced for a reason, he can’t actually mean it, “You’re funny, Robinavitch.”
“I try,” he says, grabbing your elbow gently as he guides you to a less crowded hallway, still holding you close. His face is twisted in worry, the voice in his head is screaming at him for being a fucking idiot, but he has talked far too much so he can’t back out anymore, “And… not like that. Not as… lovers or whatever,” he tries to mask it with a quick chuckle, running his fingers through his hair and rubbing his neck, “Just as friends. Because I need a plus one.”
“So you’re not asking me out?” You can feel your heart bursting through your ribcage, and you hate it. He isn’t really asking you out, he is just doing it out of convenience, because why would he? You’re divorced, he has moved on, he wants to become a family because of your daughter but he doesn’t want you. Friends. Fuck friends. “I mean… okay, yeah, sure. I could do friends.”
“Great! Uhhh… well, I–” he gives a sheepish smile, looking down at his shoes before he meets your eyes again.
“You still wanna call her?” You roll your eyes at him affectionately, unlocking your phone to press face time over the babysitter’s number, angling the phone until your faces are in the screen, and you’re reminded by the first few days of you coming back to the hospital. You would call Vian to look at her small body move with each breath. Back then, you were fresh out of postpartum and during the last painful months of your marriage.
“MAMA!” She is running in the living room, the phone rattling in her small hands before she crawls on top of the couch, lying on her stomach with the phone in her face, “Mama Vivi miss you.”
“I miss you too, ba–”
“DADDDYYYYYYYY!” You have to turn the volume down immediately, wincing but masking it with a smile, turning around to look at Robby who is grinning as wide as Vivi, waving at her enthusiastically before she starts sitting up, falling with her face on the phone first before she manges to rest her back on the cushions, “Miss you Daddy!”
“I miss you too, baby bear. So so much,” he says, placing his chin on your shoulder to get a closer look at the screen, definitely not thinking twice before he does it. It catches you off guard, breath hitching and eyes widening at the warmth of him. You can smell his cologne; cool and sandalwood, somehow even sweet which you are sure comes from the conditioner he uses for his beard.
“Daddy, come tonight?” She asks, puffing out her cheeks before she brings her teddy bear into the screen, “Hi ted?”
“Hey, ted!” You and Robby have to stop the small laugh that threatens to fall from your lips when she forces you to acknowledge the existence of her small teddy bear.
“No, sweetpea, I can’t come tonight,” you keep quiet when he talks, because you know he is the only one who can stop her from getting upset about this. Your heart still breaks after so many nights of doing this to her, telling her her dad can’t be around. Although she puts up a brave face, you notice her pout small tears in her eyes every single time.
“But… maybe tomorrow? I can come pick you up in the morning!”
“Really? Mama! You come too?”
“I, well…” you turn around, looking at Robby who is gazing at you with the softest most pleading look in his brown eyes, practically begging you to say yes without uttering a word. You are immediately met with Vian’s identical eyes to her father’s, both pouting and waiting for an answer they hope for. With a sigh, you rub your temple and nod, “Fine, okay, yeah.”
“Bweakfast! Pancakes– LILY! I go out!” Then she is bolting towards her baby sitter, leaving the phone on the couch as she starts jumping up and down, letting you hang up with a quick ‘goodbye, baby bear’.
“She’s excited,” he mumbles, pulling himself away from you, clearing his thorat as he purses his lips, looking around the hallway before his eyes fall on you again, “You don’t have to come, y’know? I can always–”
“If I say I’ll do something, that means I will.” You give him a quick smile, pushing your phone back into your pocket before you walk away, glancing back at him quickly, noticing the way your heart beats faster amd faster when you catch him staring at you with a fond look. Friends. Divorced lovers but friends.
****
“Mama, when daddy come?” She is swinging her feet on the counter as you feed her some apples so she doesn’t get hangry during the drive to her favorite coffee shop. You have her secured with your hands flat next to her small legs.
“Soon, little bear,” you kiss her forehead, giving her another slice of apple and cinnamon which she takes eagerly, munchin and nodding happily, “What else do you wanna do today?”
“Sleep wit Mama and daddy, in mama’s bed!”
“You dream big, huh?” You chuckle, rubbing your palm over her back, wiping the cinnamon off her cheeks. Both of you turn to the sound of the doorbell and glance back at each other, and you have maximum ten seconds to grab Vivi when she launches herself at you, “Okay, okay, let me put you down first!”
“Down down down,” and she is running for the door happily, waiting for you to unlock the door, rocking on her feet as you approach her and open ir for her. You pull the door and Robby peeks into the house, grinning when Vivi gasps at the bouquets in his hands, “Fowers! Mama, look!”
“…I can see that,” you glance between the bouquets in his hands curiously, trying to act tough but when you see how happy Vivi is when Robby bends down to kiss her cheek and hands her bouquet to Vian.
“So pretty! Mama, look!” She holds up her flowers for you to see, it’s almost as big as her body, and starts sniffing the scent of the lilies, “Nice!”
“Yeah? You like ‘em, baby bear?” Robby stands up after he kisses the crown of her head, looking shyly between you and the bouquet he has brought for you. You stand with your arms crossed over your chest, biting your lip as you wait for him to do something, and when he extends the flowers to you with a soft smile, you sigh in relief, “I hope you like them too.”
“Y’know I love Tulips,” you bury your nose in the petals, eyes never leaving Robby’s soft gaze, not even for a second, before you bring them down and smile at him brightly, “Thank you, I love them.”
“Anything for you,” he smiles back, his eyes trailing over your face, falling on your lips before Vian tugs on his sleeves and he is leaning down to pick her up with a groan, holding her up on his forearms against his body, “Ready to go, sweetpea?”
“Yuppie!” And suddenly she remembers what she is holding, gasping and turning back to you with her wide eyes full of worey, “Mama, fowers in water!”
“Of course, give it to me so I can put them in a vase, yeah? Go get your coat, it’s gonna be cold outside,” you take the flowers from her hands when she nods and asks Robby to put her down, and soon you are also wrapping your scarf around your neck while Robby makes sure Vivi is bundled up completely, not a silver of her skin exposed to the cold air. He is not going to risk another sickness.
“Ready to head out, ladies?”
“Yes!” She grabs his hand and they walk outside a few steps before they wait for you to join them, wiggling her small fingers at you when you close and lock the door before lacing your fingers through hers, “Les go!”
“Let’s go, little bear,” Robby guides you to the sidewalk, walking side by side toward the café, Vian swinging your arms as she jogs between the two of you, trying to reach your long strides, giggling when you and Robby picks her up when she wants to jump from a stair.
You look at them; Vivi talks about Sully, telling Robby about the new words she has learned, about the night she helped you stir the soup, about the day they were both sick and they sneezed together one time that resulted in more spit and mucus falling from their noses when they laughed.
Life is unfair, you have learned it the hard way. If it was just and comfortable, you would have Robby the way you used to, Vivi would have her father with her every moment she could. But you tried to give her that, you tried to work it out with Robby, yet none of the talks and counselings were enough to put him in a therapy room until he wanted to.
You beat yourself up every day for taking this away from Vian, but maybe it was all for the best.
The café isn’t as crowded as usual, it’s Tuesday and you assume it could be because of this. Luckily for you, your daughter’s favorite table near the window is empty and she makes a run for it, letting go of your hands to crawl on top of the seat.
“Vivi hungry!”
“I know, sweetheart,” Robby follows suit, sitting in front of her and hands her the menu. His eyes follow you fondly as you take the spot next to Vian and help her take her scarf and jacket off, “What do you wanna get?”
“Pancakes! Wit whip cream!”
“And some fruit, right?” You wiggle your eyebrows at her, squeezing her cheek lovingly when she nods and gives you a toothy smile, “Good girl.”
“What do you want, honey?”
Robby asks, reading the menu without even looking at you, like this is normal, like you are still his wife, like this is the domesticity you have experienced many many times. You have, and that is why it hurts much more.
“Sorry,” he shakes his head, his words finally dawning on him, “It just slipped out. Force of habit, I apologize.”
“It’s alright, don’t worry about it,” you smile quickly, ducking your head down to appear busy with Vivi, as if he didn’t just make you weak in your knees without even meaning to, “I want… a large tea with vegetable omelet.”
“Nice choice, I’ll get the same with coffee–”
“Daddy, waffles?” Vivi drops the menu, resting her chin on her hands as she blinks at him with her doe eyes that Robby can never say no to, and you have to bite back a huge snort when Robby looks at you for help and when he receives none he sighs and nods.
“Fine, but–”
“Yay!” She lets out a quick cheer before Robby cuts her off with a stern look.
“But… you have to have a little from it, okay? We can take the rest home.”
“Jeeeesus, you’re weak.”
“Why don’t you come and try?” He whines, reaching to ruffle her hair when she looks at the two of you with curiosity, “You’d fold ten times worse than me if she looks at you like that.”
“You think I’m not getting tortured every hour I’m home?” You roll your eyes, leaning down to kiss the top of Vivi’s head before you notice the waitress coming your way and you look at Vivi, “Do you want to order for yourself?”
“I can?” She asks, her eyes lighting up before her gaze fall on the waitress who smiles and greets the three of you, “Hi!”
“Hi, honey! What can I get you?”
“Whip cream wit pancakes!” She says, swinging her legs under the table, smiling broadly at the waitress before she gasps, “Orange juice!”
“Got it, and what ‘bout you two?”
Robby orders for both of you, nodding as th waitress reads the list to make sure she’s got everything before she walks away quickly.
“About the party thing happening this week…” you start, handing Vivi her book you brought from the house for her to try and read while you wait for your breakfast before you look back at Robby, “Any hints on what color you gonna wear?”
“I have only one good tux and it’s navy blue, you know that,” he spreads his arm over the back of the chairs, his eyes are heated as he gazes at you, “It’s nothing fancy, just a get together to show face.”
“I know, someone else told me this too,” you say without a hint of humor, trying to act nonchalant and confident, but you want to see his reaction. No, you need it.
“Oh? Who?” He leans forward now, bracing his weight on his forearms on the table, looking at you with raises eyebrows, his eyes holding a deep emotion that he has yet to let it resurface.
“Park,” you name him, shrugging and keeping your gaze locked with his, “He told me about the event… he asked me to be his date.”
“Ha!” He huffa out a sarcastic laugh, biting his bottom lip as he nods at your words, tongue picking out to lick the small shapes of his teeth over his lips, his eyes never leaving yours. He is pissed, you can tell that much, and boy, does it bring you joy to watch him lose his composure little by little, “He asked you out. Fucking Park…” he shakes his head and raises his hands when Vian whispers ‘bad word, daddy!’ and glare at him, “sorry, pumpkin.”
“Yeah, he did,” you nod, like you didn’t just drop a fucking bomb on him, sighing in relief when the waitress comes with your breakfast and drinks, and you take the time to busy yourself with your tea, waiting for the girl to leave the two of you before you continue, “Can you imagine how awkward it was? And Ortho attending asking another attending’s ex wife out.”
“And what did you say?” He sips on his black coffee, his knuckles white as he grips the handle of the mug tightly, “In case I need to break his nose.”
“Oh my gosh, you’re so dramatic. Of course I said no,” you chuckle, placing Vivi on your lap as you pull her plate closer, tucking a few napkins in her collar so she doesn’t dirty her clothes, “Okay, baby bear, do you want any help?”
“Nope!” She grins at the two of you before she frowns and grabs the fork, craning her neck to look at you, “Eat wit my hand?”
“No, I taught you how to use your fork, remember? I can slice the pancakes for you and you can eat with your fork.” You explain, kissing her forehead when she scrunches her nose at you in concentration before nodding and turning her attention back to her pancakes, “Okay…”
“Daddy?”
“Yes, pumpkin?” Robby reaches to push her hair out of her face, smiling softly when she grabs his hand to look at his watch.
“Why you have a house?” She asks, playing with Robby’s watch slowly while. You stiffen beneath her, hands stopping the movements as you listen to her sigh softly. You knew this conversation would come sooner than later, your girl is smart, she is very very intelligent, so it shouldn’t shock you as much as it does.
“Because I need a place to live in,” Robby says with a short chuckle, tickling under her chin before he pulls his hand back and watches her grab her fork tightly, thanking you quickly and stuffing her mouth the pancake.
“Why not live wit us?” She says with her full mouth, and you swallow the lump in your throat, eyes widening as you search Robby’s face for an answer. You are forzen, you shouldn’t be, but you are and you cannot do anything about it. You just hope Robby can pull the weight on behalf of both of you now.
“Because…” he takes his time, taking a deep breath in before he takes a large sip from his coffee, his eyes falling to his fingers around the mug before he looks at Vian, “Mama and I decided to live in different houses.”
“But I miss you when you not here,” she whispers softly, pouting a little before she takes another large piece in her mouth, chewing and leaning back against your chest.
“You stay with me three nights every week, sweetheart,” he sighs sadly, biting his cheek before leaning forward and extending his hands for her to take, bringing her small knuckles to his lips when she places the fork on her plate, smiling when he kisses her small fingers, “I miss you too… every second you’re not with me.
“Mama,” she turns around immediately, her pout visibly getting larger by the ticking time, “Daddy come live wit us.”
“Baby bear–”
“Pumpkin, look at me,” Robby is quick to jump in and save you from your daughter noticing you falling apart, giving her one of his largest grins, “My work demands more time to stay at another place, okay? We decided to do this so when I’m off I can completely stay with you and Jerry, yeah?”
“Let’s just focus on our breakfast, huh?” You kiss her head again, smiling and squeezing her a little in your arms before mouthing a quick thank you to Robby, “Besides, I have a surprise for you!”
“What?”
“What?!”
They both ask at the same time, and you have to hold back a soft laugh at how similar their expressions are.
“Well, daddy and I are going out for a work event this week, and I talked to Auntie Samira about it,” you start, looking down at her, caressing her full cheek and leaning down to rub your nose along hers, earning a gleeful giggle, “You gonna have a sleepover with Jack and Mira at their hosue!”
“Really?!”
“Yes, baby bear.”
Your eyes lock with Robby’s, and you notice the soft smile on his face as he looks at his girls. You want cry.
****
“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” you curse as you try to find the main hall, walking with the skirt of your dress in your hand, purse tightly clutched into another, begging for Robby to be here.
It was a shitshow to get ready while getting Vian ready and drop her off at Jack’s house. She was crying and so were you while you poured coffee on the dress you had originally decided to wear, until you sat her down on the couch and started Frozen again while handing her a big bowl of ice cream.
Anything to keep her busy and you free to put your makeup on before she decides to sulk again and give you a hard time.
You are lucky you find the main hall quickly before the speeches begin, finding the open bar in a sweeping glance across the room. With a sigh, you put your purse on the bar’s counter, searching for Robby among the sea of bodies before the bartender approaches you with a smile.
“What can I get you?”
“Dirty Martini, extra drirty, please,” Robby gives your order, his warm hand moving to your waist as he appears out of nowhere, “And Double Black neat for me.”
“Comin’ right up,” the bartender winks at you before she moves to the other side to get what she needs for your drinks.
“Hey,” you turn around with a grateful smile, breath hitching in your throat when you look him up and down, noticing the black shirt under his gorgeous navy blue tuxedo is unbuttoned on top. You meet his eyes bashfully, blood rushing to your cheeks and you have to make sure your gaze is steady enough so he doesn’t notice you checking him out.
“Hello, sweetheart,” he squeezes your waist, leaning back against the bar counter and pulling you in gently when someone walks past you hurriedly, “How’s Vivi?”
“You know, a ray of fucking sunshine when I’m in a hurry,” you roll your eyes playfully, looking anywhere but him, “I had to bribe her with ice cream and Frozen until she was calm enough for me to get ready.”
“Sounds like a tough time, I wish I could help,” he sighs, running his hand through his hair, and you notice how his gaze fall upon your dress — an ankle height length maroon dress that is topped off with the Louboutin heels Robby bought you as your birth gift. “You look gorgeous.”
“Thanks,” you say breathlessly, blinking at him through your lashes, looking at the band in the corner as they play a song you don’t know before you notice the bartender bringing your drinks for you, “Oh, lovely!”
“Was she excited to go to Jack’s place? Samira said they wanted to bake together,” Robby says, trying to act nonchalant but his knuckles are moving up and down your back, sipping on his whiskey while his dark eyes sweep over you.
“Sounds like hell of a plan,” you gulp your drink down, pulling the olive between your teeth while your eyes lock with his, dragging the toothpick down before biting the olive. You watch as he looks at the way your lips stretch around the small round thing — painted red and glittering with lipgloss — before you drop the toothpick and the rest of the olives in your glass, “You’re staring.”
“Can you blame me?” He tilts his head to the side, his fingers skimming down your side to your hip, letting his pointer and middle fingertips press down on the flesh gently, watching closely as your chest begins to heave with each breath, “I’m contemplating my life choices right now. My ex-wife… even more beautiful than before.”
“Wow, you’re such a sweet talker,” you huff out a small laugh, patting his chest before you turn around to look at Gloria making her way to the podium, and you are forces to press into Robby’s side as the hall begins to fill in, the space around the bar getting more crowded than before.
“I’m a man on a mission,” he leans down to whisper in your ear, his free hand resting on your hip as he finishes his drink with the other, closing the distance between your bodies until your back is flushed to his front, “You like the sweet talk, don’t you?”
“Don’t let it get to your head, I’d lose my mind over a compliment if it comes from Jack too.”
“You don’t mean that,” he squeezes your flesh, his hot breath fanning over your neck as his hand comes up to play with the strap on your shoulder, leaning down to brush his lipa over you shoulder clavicle, “You’re not an easy woman, beautiful. No man can make you shy like I can.”
“And how do you know that, hmm?” You let out a ragged sigh, leaning back into his warmth, clutching your glass in your hand while he toys with your sanity.
“Because I was married to you.”
“Ah, yes, our very beautiful loving marriage that ended,” you scoff, shaking your head as a round of applause fills the hall, “I wonder why– oh, wait, you weren’t sweet talking back then!”
“That’s not true,” he lets out a laugh in disbelief, his chest rumbling against your back as his fingers tighten over your hip, “I used to do it all the time!”
“Well, apparently it wasn’t enough,” you roll your eyes and push away from him, grabbing your purse from the countertop before sighing deeply, “Look, I’m just gonna go. I showed my face, you had your plus one and I need to get back into bed before I pick Vian up from Jack’s place in the morning. So–”
“What? C’mon, the night’s just started–”
“No, Robby, this was a bad idea. We can’t just have a night out like nothing’s wrong, we’re divorced for fuck sake!” You hiss the words out before walking away from him, knuckles hurting with how hard you’re clutching your purse.
“Wait!”
You pick up your pace, gathering your dress into your hand before you hear him rush behind you, following you with his long strides.
“Stop runnin’ away from me!”
“I’m not running away!” You yell so he can hear your voice through the loud music that starts playing. You don’t even turn around to look at him, marching through the hallways and trying to find your way out before he catches up with you. You need an escape, this was a huge fucking mistake.
“Jesus fucking Christ, will you please stop?!”
He grabs you by the elbow, his long fucking legs helping him to reach you quite fast. He pulls on your arm to stop you, groaning when your purse hits him in the stomach but he recovers quickly and pins you to the spot easily.
“What do you want? I came here for you, I wasn’t even invited! What could you possibly want more from me–”
“I need you to tell me why you’re leaving!”
“Because!” You start, looking him dead in the eye, but the desperation in his gaze makes your words stick in your throat, “Because…”
“Because what? You’re running away again when things are getting good–”
“Oh, hell naw! That’s your specialty, Robby,” you try to wiggle your arm out of his grip but he is steadfast on holding you close, “You run away, I do control damage. I can’t let you get close to me again because you’ve already fucked up my life enough. You run away when things get hard, you run away when I got too close! Your own wife!”
“You were pushing me! You were pushing me so fucking hard and I couldn’t handle it,” he replies, his voice raising a little to match your tone, “You wanted to know everything! I needed space, I needed to think, not to pour my fucking heart out!”
“You needed space, that’s why you went to bed with Hastings a good few months after our divorce? You needed so much space that I had to find out you were leaving for your fucking sabbatical from Shen?! I was your wife, Robby. Your in sickness and health, until death do us part, remember? I vowed to stay by you, I promised to help and I wanted to help!”
“You wanted to fix what wasn’t yours to fix!”
“I wanted to get close to you, I wanted to love you, Mike…” you finally manage to pull your arm out of his hold, desperately holding your tears back from spilling when you notice the way his eyelids have turned red from crying, “I wish… I wish you'd just let me love you the way you deserve to be loved."
The silence between you is defeating as you just… stare at each other. You are panting, your lungs begging for more air, and Robby looks at you with so much unspoken sorrow, his face red and and eyes bloodshot.
“I’m gonna go,” you whisper, letting the tears fall freely on your cheeks before you turn around with a heavy heart and begin to walk away.
“Let me drive you home,” he catches up with you after a beat or two, sighing when he walks next to you side by side, “Please…”
“I can get an Uber–”
“This is the least I can do for you,” He says, opening the door for you, looking down into your eyes softly, and the plea in his brown irises is enough to make you nod hesitantly, “A token of my appreciation for coming with me tonight.”
****
The ride home is silent. Oddly silent. The bone crushing silence after arguing with a lover. But you weren’t lovers. You were divorced, exes in disguise, best sex partners, co-parents, and somewhere between the lines, you fell as companions.
Maybe that is why this hurts more than any fight you’ve ever had. Because you were hurt by him more than you can imagine, and you have also hurt him more than anyone can count. You were stags fighting with horns in the evening and lovers by the dawn.
Giving him another chance sounds so good, but you can’t.
He drives into the parking space in front of your garage, running a hand down his face as he slows down the car, glancing at you occasionally. You can’t bring yourself to look at him, you can’t bring yourself to see the red vessels in his eyes.
“Thank you for driving me home,” you say quietly, opening the door as soon as he cuts the engine, undoing your seatbelt and hopping down from his car, not waiting for him to get out as well — he does it anyway.
“Of course,” he tries to catch up with you but you are faster, hopping the few steps and getting to your door, keys shaking in your hand as you try to unlock it. “Can we talk–”
“No, goodnight.” You slip inside before he gets the chance to stop you, slamming the door shut and leaning your back against it, chest rising and falling rapidly as you try to regukate your heartbeat.
Purse is dropped on the counter, necklace unattached and shoes falling next to the door as you move through the house until you reach the kitchen. You press the glaas to the fridge, watching as the water pours with a loud rhythmic sound.
The first sip takes the edge off, the second cools the burning of your throat and stops the stinging from pushing your sobs down for the entirety of the ride. You drown the rest, and you feel the uneasy sensation of your esophagus stretching.
What happens next a mix of hesitation, longing, carelessness if anyone can believe. You don’t give it a second thought, you don’t have the time to as you run to the door and downstairs, finding Robby pacing with his hands locked around the back of his neck.
Before you know it, your lips are crashing into his.
He doesn’t pull away, he doesn’t hesitate. He kisses back with a fever that has you clutching his shoulders. He bends you backward a little by the force of his kisses. His mouth doesn’t leave yours, he wants to eat you alive, he wants to devour you and he is doing it very good so far.
His hand pulls you closer by your waist, the breeze outside making you shiver in his arms while your tongue dances with his in a rythmic tango.
“Let’s go inside.”
You grab his hand and lead him to your open door, and he kicks his shoes off quickly before you are pressing him to the nearest wall, fisting his shirt and pulling him in for another deep kiss.
He pushes you inside the house with urgency, leading you towards the couch with his hand on your hip and the other grabbing the back of your neck to keep you tucked against his body.
You end up with him on the couch and you mounting his lap, heels digging into his knees a little as you straddle him. Your arms are wrapped around his neck while your lips move together in sync, his beard is soft against your skin — he has conditioned it for the night.
His fingers dig into your asscheeks as you grind down on the bulge in his pants, the straps of your dress falling off your shoulders. He groans into your mouth when you roll your hips in a way that puts direct pressure on the head of his cock.
Your hands find his zipper when you rise on your knees on each side of his thighs, pushing his pants down enough alongside his boxers to bring out his hard cock quickly. Your patience is running very thin.
“Let me prep you first–”
“Michael, if you’re not inside me in the next three seconds, God fucking forbid I will enter a manic episode.”
“Okay, okay,” he chuckles but soon he huffs out a grunt when you wrap your fingers around his length, stroking him with slow gentle movements, “Fuckin’ hell, baby.”
“I can’t wait to feel you,” you whisper against his lips before he helps you push your dress up and holds it there for you as you use your free hand to push your panties to the side and line the angry red tip of his cock with your fluttering hole.
You sink down slowly, hand flying to his shoulder as you take him inside you inch bt inch, eyes rolling to the back of your head at the delicious stretch. You missed having him like this; undone, captivated and already gone by the feel of you around him. You missed his voice when he would groan your name, when he would shush you gently and fuck you harder.
He throws his head back, hips rolling up impatiently, and that is enough to make you drop the rest of the way down and that knock the breath out of you. You rest your forehead on his throat before you regain some ounce of your composure and lean back, reaching to unbutton the rest of his shirt, sucking in a sharp breath when the soft flushed skin of his chest and stomach comes into view.
He melts under your dark gaze when you lick your lips and drag your fingertips across his chest, down his sternum and on his belly. He is hot under your touch, his muscles contract with each caress and stroke, and when you begin to move, he loses his mind.
He doesn’t know where to hold onto; your hips, your thighs, your waist, but it is to no use because he is getting dizzy with lust. He reaches to pull the top of your dress down enough for your breasts to pop out. And in a blink of an eye, he latching his mouth onto your nipples, sucking and groaning.
“I missed these fucking tits,” he growls against your flesh before he looks up into your dazes eyes, “The best fucking tits… I remember when they were fucking hung with milk, God, You tasted so sweet then.”
“You loved drinking our baby’s milk–”
“These tits were mine before she got here,” he rolls his tongue over the tightened bud, enjoying the way you moan and begin to rock your hips faster, his cock nudging deeper inside you, “They’re still mine– fuck, baby, you get off on that, don’t ya? You want me to make them full again, hmm?”
“Oh, fuck fuck fuck!”
He starts snapping his hips up into yours, pulling you forward until you slump against his chest and cling to him while he fucks you hard, the filthy noises of your joined bodies filling the silence in the room along with your muffled cries and his huffs and groans.
“Yeah, yeah, I know, baby,” his hand goes to your hair, grabbing the strands a little rough before he tugs on them until he exposes your throat to his hungry mouth, sucking on the skin while he thrusts his cock into you in a pace that has your eyes roll to the back of your head.
When you come, it almost makes your heart stop with how fast it beats against your ribs. Your thighs shake around Robby’s hips and your toes curl in your heels as you bounce up and down his cock even through your orgasm until you are quivering and hiccuping his name, burying your face in his neck and grinding so hard against him it makes his vision go white for a second from pleasure.
“I got you, shh, you’re okay,” he wraps his arms around you, one of his hands going to your hair to keep you safely tucked in his embrace as he helps you through the aftershocks of your high. “So pretty, baby. You look like a fucking goddess.”
“Mike…” you whisper, turning your head and resting it against his shoulders, fingers moving up to caress his cheekbones as he gazes down at you, a stupid smile on his face as he holds you close. “Why are you looking at me like that?”
“Because I love you.”
There. Simple. Out in the open. He watches you closely, the way your lips part in surprise — a good kind of surprise because he has known you long enough to know your expressions — and your pupils take over your beautiful irises slowly.
He brings your hand to his lips, kissing each of your fingers, moving to your knuckles and then your palm before he presses it to his cheek once more.
You grin at him, straightening your back and cupping his other cheek as well, leaning down to peck him on the lips, gasping when his cock jumps inside you, reminding you of how he hasn’t come yet.
“You didn’t finish…”
“The night’s young,” he helps you off him and on your legs slowly, standing up to tower over you, “And I’m a very patient man.”
“That,” you whisper, turning around when he guides you, kissing your bare shoulder as he reaches for the zipper of your dress, “Is very true.”
“Did I tell you how beautiful you are tonight?” He keeps his lips locked on your neck and shoulder, his knuckles caressing your back as he lowers the zipper.
“I don’t mind hearing you say it again,” you let the dress pool around your ankles, gasping when he leans over to kiss your neck, then each of your shoulders before he moves down a little, kissing the line of your spine until he reached your ass, letting his teeth graze the flesh before he helps you out of your heels one by one.
“You look so fucking beautiful,” he whispers against your ear, and you turn around to look at him, naked as the day you were born before you reach to unbutton his shirt slowly, running your hand over his pecs and down to his soft pudgy stomach.
You kiss his chest slowly, fingers caressing his shoulders as you finally drop the shirt on the ground, and it gives him enough time to push his pants and boxers down and get rid of his shoes as well.
You take his hand when he is just as bare as you are, leading him upstairs to your room before your bodies begin to move together.
He is all consuming with the way he moves inside you; it’s not rushed, but it is deep and meaningful. You both cling to each other, lips slotted together. Your bodies have missed each other, the familiarity, the way you fit like a piece of puzzle.
Suddenly, he stops, tears streaming down his face as he deops his forehead on yours, his cock nestled deep inside you as he cries softly, his tears making your eyes sting too.
“I’m sorry for ruining our marriage,” he confesses softly, his hand cupping your cheek, “I’m sorry for not fighing harder, I’m sorry for not getting better, for letting you both go. I’m so fucking sorry–”
“I’m sorry too,” you kiss his cheek, wiping each tear with a small peck, your arms tightening around his shoulders as you keep him pressed to your body, “For not giving you space when you needed it, for not trying harder–”
“Shhh,” he nudges his nose to yours gently, “I’m just glad I can touch… I can have you again.”
****
You do not know why your heart starts beating faster at the sight of the empty spot on the bed. He is supposed to be next to you, cuddling you, holding you close and snore loudly in your ear but he is not. And that makes you nervous to the point your heart is giving out by how rapid it is pumping blood.
He must have left, you think to yourself as you slowly peel the duvet off your body, bare legs swinging over the edge of the bed, sitting with a heavy sigh. Of course you didn’t have any expectations, it could have been just sex in his eyes. Maybe he said those words because he was feeling gooey and relaxed, but why would he say those things if he didn’t mean it?
You fail to look at the clock or your phone or his phone in your charger before you grab a t-shirt from your drawer — his t-shirt that you’ve stolen from him years ago — and walk downstairs to see if any of his clothes are left, only to be met with them neatly folded on one of the loveseats.
Your body relaxes a little until you hear a loud giggle from the kitchen. With a growing smile on your face, you turn around and find Robby and Vian bent over the counter as he helps her stir some type of batter.
“Shh, don’t wake Mama up.”
“I’m already up–”
“AAAAAAAAA!”
“What is wrong with you–”
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” you laugh loudly, throwing your head back as the two of them glare at you with their identical eyes, “I didn’t think anyone was here, I’m sorry, I had no idea.”
“S’okay!” Vivi is quick to replace the glare with a grin of her own before she — with Robby’s help — slides down the counter and runs to you, crashing into your legs with a force that nearly knocks you on your back, but you’re pretty immune to her fierce love and grab her by her waist to pick her up. “I miss you Mama!”
“Miss you too, baby bear!” You hold her close tightly, kissing her cheek, her nose, the little mole on her earlobe, her brown hair before tucking her head under your chin and you finally notice Robby standing there with his arms crossed and a dopey smile on his face.
“You ruined our surprise,” he says quietly before he makes his way to the two of you, leaning down to peck your lips softly before he murmurs, “You didn’t brush your teeth.”
“I know, sorry… I thought you left,” you confess, pouting a little at the thought before Vivi starts tugging at your shirt, “Yes, baby bear?”
“Daddy got me from Unce Jack!”
“Yeah? I’m so glad he did, now I can start my day with my favorite people.” She giggles when you tickle under her chin and settles back againstnyour shoulder, letting you go back to your conversation with her father.
“I’m not gonna leave like that again, sweetheart,” he leans back down to rest his forehead on yours, wrapping his arms around the two of you, engulfing you both in a giant warm hug, “I’m sorry I scared you, I swear I just went to pick her up so she can spend the day with us.”
“I know, bear,” your arms tighten around Vivi who just blinks at the two of you, before her eyes start gleaming with mischief.
“Now kiss!” She giggles, turning around in your arms until she can wrap both of her arms around your necks and pull you closer.
Robby doesn’t let you duel on it much longer, he closes the distance plants a chaste kiss on your lips, then another when Vian doesn’t let the two of you get further apart.
You kiss him back shyly, chuckling into his mouth when you feel your daughter starts playing with your hair, watching you with awe in her gaze.
“I have morning breath…”
“I’ll kiss you with any breath.”
****
To say you are divorced is a bit of a lie. Legally, yes, you’re no longer Mrs. Robinavitch, but with the way you’re living, you are practically Robby’s wife through and through.
There isn’t a thing called custody of Vian between you. Your days blended with his slowly; he’d spend your days at your place while you went to his place when he would have Vian. It was the better choice to ease him back into living at your place without confusing your daughter much more than she already is.
You cook together, dance together when Robby’s knees feel good enough, take your daughter to different children classes, have sex after a certain mom flirts too much with Robby or when a dad thinks he has a shot. You kiss and hold each other like you used to, but this time, Robby is there, with you, in the present and without letting the ghosts of his past haunt him.
But sometimes… sometimes it gets too much.
“Hey, I just got home, me and Vivi are making Ghorme Sabzi,” you answer his call in a heartbeat, helping Vian to wash the rice with her little hands. “It’ll be ready when you get home–”
“DADDY! Vivi cooking!”
“Hey girls!” He says with a smal chuckle, and you notice the restrain in his voice immediately, “Wow, good job, pumpkin! You help mama while I’m busy, yeah?”
“Yup yup!” She watches with wide eyes as you help her rinse the dirty water, “Mama cook green food!”
“I know, and we love it, don’t we?” He sighs when he hears her mindlessly talking to herself, “Honey, you there?”
“Yes, Mikey, I’m here,” you take the call off the speaker and put your phone between your ear and shoulder, “What’s going on?”
“I- look, I’m so sorry but, I… I’m gonna be late, I need an emergency therapy session–”
“Oh, baby…” you lower Vivi on the ground when she tells you she wants to read her book, your chest hurting by the way he sounds on the other end of the line, “Is there anything I can do for you?”
“No, love, I just… I can’t come home like this, I’m a… I’m a fucking mess and I need to just…”
“Michael, it’s okay,” you reassure him, smiling sadly, “We’ll be here for you when you come home. I’m glad you called me, I’m gonna wait for you till you come home, okay? I love you, please take care of yourself, bear.”
“I love you too, honey–”
“Daddy!” Vivi runs to you with Teddy in her hand, making grabby gestures with her fingers until you pass the phone to her, “I lobe you, Daddy!”
“I love you too,” you don’t hear it, but there is a small sniffle at his end, “I love you so much. Help mama, okay? Save me some Tahdig, don’t eat it all!”
“Okay,” she giggles, “Bye!”
****
Robby sighs softly as he unlocks the door and kicks off his shoes, dropping his keys in the bowl next to yours as he slowly peels the day off him. Backpack next to the couch, jacket hanging off one shoulder while he walks upstairs with heavy quiet steps, as if he is chained anf they ate pulling his weight down.
He opens Vivi’s door first, looking at her from the doorframe, tears filling his eyes as he watches her chest move up and down rhythmically. She is alive. She is fine. She is safe. He repeats these sentences to himself over and over, until he can breathe a little easier.
She is okay, and that’s enough for him to relax even if it is for a second.
He leaves the door slightly ajar before he walks to your room, walking inside without making a sound, finding you sleeping under the duvet and burying your face in his pillow. With a small smile, he starts to strip. The jacket comes first, then the scrub top and undershirt, followed by his belt and cargo pants.
“Hey…” he hears you and turns around to look at your sleepy smily face, “How are you?”
“Hey…” he doesn’t answer your question, sitting on the edge of the bed with his back halfway toward you before he turns around and reaches to push your hair out of your face, “Sorry I woke you up.”
“Don’t w’rry about it,” you whisper, grabbing his hand softly before kissing his palm, “Do you wanna talk about today?”
“No, not right now,” he shakes his head, crawling under the duvet, “can you please…”
“C’mere,” you open your arms and grin when he lies on top of you, head buried in your neck as you hold him close, kissing the top of his head and enjoying how his weight is pinning you down, “I love you, Mike.”
“Love you more, honey.” He whispers against your skin, taking in a deep breath before he starts talking, “Today… I had a kid, around Vian’s age, she… she had drowned in the pool trying to grab her toy. She… she didn’t make it and I couldn’t do anything to prevent that. And I thought what if one day, I’m too careless with Vivi and she ends up like her. What if I can’t save my own child–”
“Bear, listen to me,” you kiss his head, tightening your arms around his shoulders, resting your cheek on his forehead, “You are probably the best doctor I’ve ever seen, okay? If anything happens to her, you’ll be the best person to save her. But, baby, she is safe, and she is sleeping soundly in her room. I’m not gonna say nothing can happen, because she is a child, but if something happens to her, you will take care of her, we will take care of her.”
“I fear I’ll fail her,” he lets the tears fall finally, “One way or another. I fear I can’t be there for her when she needs me the most, I… I fear she’ll realize I’m too damaged and can’t take care of her.”
“Baby, Vivi loves you so much she will believe if you tell her you’ve hung the moon,” you let him cry softly against your neck, wrapping your leg around his hips to keep him tucked against your body, “She’s been so much happier since we started living together. She looks for you in every room she walks inside. You’re her Daddy, and she trusts you.”
“I don’t wanna fail her like I’ve failed you.”
“We failed each other, and we’re working together to fix it. Be here for her, love her like you always do. You’re doing everything right, bear. We’re okay, she loves you, I love you.”
“I love you too, both of you, so fucking much.” He clings to you harder, and you let him, holding him equally tight until he is snoring softly against your neck, his soft exhales easing you back to sleep quickly.
****
“Mama…” Vivi tugs on your fingers, her whisper waking you up gently, “Mama, Vivi huggies?”
“Hey, baby, why are you up?” You hold your hand for her to take and pull her up with a little struggle, given the big guys sleeping on your chest.
You notice the soft rays of sunshine hitting your curtains, sighing softly you kiss Robby’s head and help Vian crawl next to you under the covers, and the small movement stirs Robby awake.
“Morning,” he kisses your shoulder before he finds Vivi mimicking his pose, resting her head on your chest, her small hanf moving to pat his cheek lovingly, making you both chuckle, “Hey, pumpkin. What are you doin’ here?”
“Morning huggies,” she frowns a little, acting like his question is so silly she just has to make a face, “Mama?”
“Yes, little bear,” you kiss her head too, one of your hands moving up and down her small back, “Do you wanna sleep again?”
“Mhm,” she nods, her eyelids already falling shut, her hand still resting on Robby’s cheek, and you notice how he is softly crying, his hand coming up to cover yours against Vivi’s back.
“She is everything.” He whispers, his thumb caressing your wrist gently, “You are everything.”
younger!med student reader x older!attending robby
its just pure smut. ummm warnings of daddy kink. corruption maybe? praise and the usual.
“Come on sweetheart. Be a good girl for me.” Robby softly whispers into your ear. Robby’s so much bigger than you, he’s using just one hand to pin your wrists above your head. Pressing you into the mattress as his free hand slips down to your cunt.
He doesn’t touch it at first, he can’t give it to you just yet. Or he’ll miss those little whimpers you make into the pillow. “Please Robby. I need it.”
Robby scoffs at that, shaking his head with a laugh. How can he get you so desperate? He’s just an old man and your his fucking student. How can you want him so bad? As bad as he wants you.
His finger dragged up your slit, collecting your wetness on his finger before sucking it off. Moaning at your sweet taste as he rubs your back. Softly, comforting. Like he’s not about to ruin you. “Tastes so sweet honey. Fucking perfect pussy. She’s so perfect for me baby.”
He places a soft kiss to your cheek as he just hears you whine. “I’m gonna fuck this tight pussy baby. That okay?”
You don’t hesitate to nod as fast as you can. Even if Robby’s size does scare you.
“Fucking knew you would sweet girl. Fucking gonna take daddy.” What can he say? He’s pent up after a long day at work and what better to soothe him than you.
He can’t help but feel gross for this. You’re his student, he’s old enough to be your dad. But when you look up at him with those big eyes and mutter a soft “please.” His can he deny his girl? If she needs it. She will have it. He’ll give you anything. Anything you want.
He drags his tip up and down your slit, gathering the wetness before just pushing in the tip. Robby’s a big boy, in every part of him. So he knows you need a moment to adjust. And of course he talks you through every step. He’s used to telling people how to fo things of work. Of course he’s going to talk you through taking his cock.
“Relax baby. Your cunts so tight isn’t she baby? All for daddy?” He whispers softly as he looks into your eyes. Scanning them for any signs of too much discomfort. He does care about you, but sometimes not when you feel so good.
You nod as he pushes in deeper, moans leaving your lips as he starts to move in and out. Grunts and groans from him, head tilting back.
“Fuck you were made for me. I fit so well inside you don’t I baby? Taking it so well. Just let me use your pussy.”
You nod again. Unable to form words as his fingers slide down to your pussy, rubbing softly. Slowly.
With his age he knows he’s not as good as he used to be, knows he’s too old for you. But the way you moan and whine means he’s doing something right.
His pace is hard, making sure his tip kisses that spot inside you he knows makes you soak. Soak his cock inside your fluttering walls.
He smiles as he rubs your head, comforting his sweet girl who’s getting railed by her boss. “Taking it so well baby. Doing suck a good job for daddy. J-just just let me. Fuck baby. Feels so fucking good.”
Robby’s breath hitches as he’s practically whining now. He just can’t help it. Your walls suck him in like a vice.
“Gonna fill you up? Can I do that sweetie?” He’s so sweet while asking. Not like he’s asking to cum in you.
“Please.” One word is all you can say. And that’s all he needs before speeding up while also rubbing your clit faster. He had to make sure his pretty girl cums first. Always. He always makes you cum first.
And as your eyes shut and gasps fall from your lips, he can feel your cum around his dick. And fuck. He cums right then too. Painting your pretty walls white as his thrusts slow down. Riding it out for the both of you.
“Shit baby.” His hand brushes some hair out of your face before pressing a soft kiss to your lips. “Did such a good job. Well done.”
Robby fucked his student. He feels so dirty. But god did he feel so fucking good while doing it.
Michael “Robby” Robinavitch x Chief Resident!Reader
When the ED finds out about you and Robby, the whispers and side-eyes start piling up. After an exhausting HR meeting, Robby reminds you exactly where you belong. With him.
warnings/tags: smut, porn with plot, minors DNI, handjob, unprotected piv, creampie, fingering, pussy eating, lots of praise, kinda protective!robby
A/N: Arianaaa what are you doing here???? I know The Pitt isn’t one of my fandoms, and it’s not where most of my mutuals are, but I felt inspired and ended up writing something anyway. It’s my first time writing for Robby and I only recently started the series, so it’s probably shit, but I wrote this specifically for me, myself, and I, and I figured why not share it?
The first HR meeting came one week after you and Robby stopped hiding.
There was no big announcement, just the two of you walking into the Pitt together, brushing your shoulders, looking like two people who’d woken up in the same bed. By the shift’s end, when you left holding hands, walking toward your car, the gossip had already caught fire.
You’d both known the risks: the sideways comments, the bureaucratic headaches. But after six months of secrecy, after deciding to move in together, sneaking around like teenagers felt ridiculous.
It all went south quickly, because the next morning, the murmurs started. Not loud or outright hostile right away, just sharp enough to disrupt the rhythm of the ED.
You were in bay 6, supervising the placement of a central line on a septic patient. The resident was doing well, she had steady hands, but every time you leaned in to give some direction, you caught the way the other residents glanced over. One of them muttering to another, low enough that it was meant to be private but wasn’t: “Of course she gets the plum procedures. Sleeping with the chief attending will do that.” Your shoulders stiffened for half a second, but you didn’t react. You were ready to face some shady comments, and you’d promised yourself you wouldn’t let it affect you. But damn it, it was hard not letting it get to you.
Later, in the break room during a rare five-minute lull, it got more direct. You were refilling your water bottle when two nurses walked in, and you managed to catch a little of their conversation before they abruptly stopped once they noticed you.
“…just think it’s unfair for the rest of the residents. He’s the chief attending. And now his little girlfriend gets all the high-acuity patients? Come on. That’s favoritism, plain and simple.”
It keeps happening throughout the day, getting worse when an intern questioned you for having two trauma 1 cases the same morning. And suddenly, the interns you were supposed to be teaching, the ones who were meant to learn from you, were doubting every single one of your orders, as if you didn’t know what you were talking about, as if you were only there because you’d slept with Robby.
"Just saying. People are talking. You get all the complex cases lately. Like that GSW yesterday? I could've handled that, but it went straight to you." One of them said.
You kept your voice professional. "The GSW went to me because I was the chief resident on shift. Now focus, you have the chance to learn, but if you want to miss it then I'll do the procedure myself."
He muttered something under his breath as he finished, but the seed was already planted in the minds of all the residents, especially those who didn’t really know Robby, who didn’t understand he would never compromise anyone’s education, no matter who he was in love with.
"She's chief resident, yeah, but come on. Sleeping with the attending? No wonder her evals are glowing. I bet her reports are padded."
"Look at her latest report. Perfect scores again. Meanwhile, the other us are struggling to get by. If that's not favoritism, I don't know what is. And assigning her the lead on that multi-trauma? Please. Someone should say something."
Dana overheard the interns talking, and slammed her tablet down. "Ladies, if you've got a problem, take it to admin. Otherwise, shut it and get back to work. We've got patients dying while you're busy gossiping."
You felt the eyes on you all afternoon, and suddenly, the place that, up until today, had felt like a second home, where you’d always moved like a fish in water, now felt like you were being slowly kicked out.
Thankfully, the people you were closest to: Mel, Santos, Whitaker, Dana, never stopped looking at you or treating you the same. They knew you, and they knew Robby. They had your back, and more importantly, they made you feel normal when everyone else made you feel like an oddity.
“You have nothing to worry about,” Mel was explaining while you both worked through charts on the computers. “The regulation isn’t specific enough when it comes to cases of fraternization between a chief attending and a chief resident. You can allege—”
“What’s up, Melancholia?” Trinity said as she approached the two of you. “Hey, Chief Slutty.” Chief Slutty, the affectionate nickname Santos had given you. “Jesus, I can’t believe people are still going on about this shit. Why do they care so much who you’re sleeping with? Every time I close my eyes I picture you and Robby going at it, and I want to rip my eyes out.”
“Some of us would like to rip our ears off when it’s three in the morning and we can’t sleep because some people are… very enthusiastic,” Whitaker added as he passed by, pushing a patient in a wheelchair. Everybody knew about Santos and Garcia, except, of course, nobody cared, since Garcia wasn’t a chief attending. Lucky them.
“Oh, deal with it, Huckleberry. You’re not even paying rent,” Santos shoot back before looking at you. “I was meaning to ask, any chance you can get your boyfriend to write me a killer recommendation later?”
“Believe me, I know what it’s like, people thinking you got here because of who you’re related to,” Victoria chirped as she stepped out of Trauma 2, pulling off her latex gloves and tossing them in the bin. “Don’t listen to them. Only you know how hard you worked for this.”
You offered her a smile that didn’t quite reach your eyes. Your friends did their best efforts in cheering you up, and even though Robby tried to comfort you once you were back home, you still felt uneasy.
“They’re talking,” you said quietly. “A lot. Favoritism. Unfair. Wrong. That I’m getting special treatment because we’re…”
He didn’t look up from his phone, only exhaled through his nose. “I know.”
You crossed your arms. “Doesn’t bother you?”
“It bothers me that it bothers you.” He leaned on the couch, readjusting his glasses, finally putting down his phone to look at you. “But I’ve been here long enough to know how this place works. People talk. Always have. When I got chief, half the attendings said I wasn’t ready for it. When I started pushing for better trauma protocols, they said I was power-tripping. Now it’s this.” He shrugged one shoulder. “They’ll get bored. Or they’ll get used to it. Either way, I’m not changing how I run my department because of what they say.”
You nodded slowly. “And me? They think I’m riding your coattails.”
“Well, it’s not my fault I’m extremely popular, and a damn good catch,” he said with a smirk, nudging you with his foot.
“Robby,” you started.
“Listen to me, you’re one of the best residents I’ve ever worked with. You were before we started this. You still are. Anyone who can’t see that is either blind or jealous. And if they want to question your competence because of who you’re sleeping with, that’s their problem. Not yours.”
You felt the heat flooding your face, just as much as when he’d first complimented you on our first day at work. “You really don’t care?”
“I care that it’s making your day harder.” His hand found yours, squeezing it briefly before letting go. “But I’m not sorry. I’m not going to pretend we’re not together just to make them comfortable. We’re adults. We’re professionals. We follow the rules, no sex in the hospital, no conflicts on shared cases if it comes to that. Beyond that? They can gossip all they want. Besides, it’ll be a nice change of scenery to have Gloria bugging me about something other than patient satisfaction scores,” he chuckled to himself. “Being nagged for having amazing sex with my amazing girlfriend doesn’t sound so bad.”
His bad attempt of being funny made you roll your eyes. “Stop. It’s not funny.” You playfully swatted at him. “Now I’m going to feel like every time you fuck me, it’s not because of me, but just to indirectly piss off Gloria.”
“Can’t a man do his two favorite things at the same time?” he said with a half smile right before you threw a pillow at his face.
Things got even worse by Wednesday, when you were running a chest tube on a pneumothorax patient. Robby was there, supervising, watching your technique with approval. The intern assisting you, a new guy named Mark, kept glancing between you and Robby like he was waiting for something to happen.
The tube was placed, the patient was stable, and you were securing it when Mark finally opened his mouth.
"Guess that's another perfect procedure for the chief resident," he said, just loud enough for the three of you. "Must be nice having the chief personally oversee everything. Some of us have to actually earn our stripes without a boyfriend doing us favors."
The words landed like a slap. Robby turned slowly. "Excuse me?" His voice was low, the kind that made people lean in to hear it.
Mark flushed, and he doubled down. "I just said—"
"I heard what you said." Robby stepped forward, not raising his voice, no matter how pissed he was. "You want to repeat it? Louder? So everyone can hear how little respect you have for your chief resident and the work she does?"
Mark opened his mouth, but closed it right away. Robby didn’t give him time to recover. "You're new, but you’ve been here long enough to know how this department works, Mark. You want to question a procedure? Fine. You want to question my judgment on case assignments? Go ahead. But the second you imply that she didn't earn her spot because of who she's sleeping with, you're not just talking shit about her. You're talking shit about me, about this program, and about every patient who walks through those doors expecting competent care."
Mark's face was beet red now. "I didn't mean—"
"You meant exactly what you said." Robby stepped closer. "You think favoritism got her here? Look at her numbers. Look at her complication rates. Look at the patient satisfaction scores that are higher than yours and mine combined. She's chief resident because she's the best doctor in this class. Not because I enjoy sleeping with her."
The bluntness hit you like a shockwave. Mark flinched, and you could see the heat crawling up his neck. Robby kept going. "If you can't handle the fact that two consenting adults are in a relationship, that's your problem. Not hers. Not mine. But if you ever, ever, question her competence again in my hearing, I will personally make sure you spend the rest of your rotation doing nothing but rectal exams and bed baths. And I will make sure every attending in this hospital knows exactly why."
Mark stared at the floor, swallowing hard. "I… I'm sorry."
Robby didn’t soften. "Apologize to her. Not me."
Mark finally looked at you. He looked completely miserable, like a little kid who just got scolded. "I'm sorry, Dr. That was out of line."
You nodded once. "Accepted. Go help with the MVC patients. We don't have time for this."
During the rest of the shift, you heard the echoes of Robby’s words filtering through the department:
“Did you hear what he said to Mark? Called him out right there.”
“‘I will personally make sure you spend the rest of your rotation doing rectal exams.’ Jesus.”
“He basically told the whole room he’s sleeping with her and doesn’t give a shit who knows.”
By mid-afternoon, the story has spread to every corner: trauma, the hallway beds, even the pharmacy techs are repeating variations of it. Some people sound impressed. Some sound scandalized. But apparently, everyone had an opinion. on your sex and romantic life. The ED wasn’t that different from highschool.
As the shift wound down slowly, the board got cleared, and the last critical patient got transferred to the ICU. Everyone was tired, coats already half-on, bags slung over shoulders.
But when the last update was done, Robby didn’t dismiss the group. He stayed standing, “I’ve got something to say,” he started. “And I’m only saying it once, so listen up. For the last few days, there’s been a lot of talk in this department. About me. About your chief resident. About whether she’s earned the position she’s in, the cases she runs,and the evaluations she gets. Let me be crystal clear: the answer is yes. She has. Every single time. I’ve been running the ED here for many years. I’ve watched every one of you come through these doors, some of you as interns, some as attendings. I know what competence looks like. I know what excellence looks like. And I know favoritism when I see it, because I’ve fought against it my entire career.”
He paused for a second.
“What I do not do is hand out special treatment because I’m sleeping with someone. If anything, I’ve been harder on her to make sure no one could ever question it. And still, people decided to run their mouths. To imply that her work, her outcomes, her patient care, are somehow tainted because of who she’s in a relationship with.”
A few people shifted uncomfortably. Mark was in the back, staring at the floor like he wanted it to swallow him.
“So let me make this easy for everyone. She is the chief resident because she’s the best doctor in her class. Her numbers are the best. Her patients do better. Her families remember her name. If you have a problem with that, take it up with the data. Take it up with me. But do not question her competence again. Not in my hearing. Not in this department. We’re all tired. We’re all burned out. We’ve all seen shit in these halls that would break most people. The last thing we need is to start tearing each other down over personal lives that don’t affect patient care. If you’ve got a real concern about bias, about fairness, about anything that touches a patient, bring it to me. Bring it to Gloria, though I doubt you’d want to. Bring evidence. But if you’re just looking for something to whisper about because you’re jealous, insecure, or bored? Keep it to yourself. Or find a new place to work.”
He looked around one last time, landing his eyes on you for half a second, long enough for you to see the quiet pride there, the protectiveness, before he looked away again.
“That’s it. We’re done here.”
Robby knew he had let his emotions win in that moment. He shouldn’t have said the things he said, or at least not in the way he said them. His speech was the match that struck the fire. Because on the morning of Tuesday, you were called to the HR office.
You sat, smoothing your scrubs unconsciously, folding your hands in your lap to steady the faint tremor.
"For the record, this meeting is being recorded for documentation purposes. Date: January 10, 2026. Time: 10:22 a.m. Present: Sarah Smith, HR Director, Finn Rivera, HR Assistant.” You shivered when she said your name next. “Chief Resident in Emergency Medicine at Pittsburgh Trauma Medical Center."
Sarah adjusted her glasses, opening a folder. "Dr., we're conducting an investigation due to a formal anonymous complaint regarding potential favoritism and conflicts of interest in the Emergency Department. The allegations involve your personal relationship with Dr. Robinavitch and its possible impact on departmental fairness, evaluations, and assignments. We'll go through a series of questions to gather your perspective. Please answer as fully and honestly as you can. Do you have any questions before we begin?"
You shook your head, and Finn started with the basics, looking at the tablet in his hand. "To confirm, can you describe the nature and timeline of your relationship with Dr. Robinavitch?"
You took a measured breath. "We're in a romantic relationship. It began about six months ago. We started as colleagues, and it developed naturally from there, outside of the hospital. We've always kept it professional at work."
Sarah nodded, jotting a note. "And how would you characterize the start of the relationship? Was it mutual and consensual from the outset?"
"Absolutely," you said it firmly. "It was entirely consensual. We were both single adults, and no power dynamics were abused. We talked about the potential complications early on, given our roles, and decided to proceed carefully. There was no pressure from either side."
Sarah's pen scratched across her pad. " Have there been any instances where you felt the relationship was not fully consensual or where professional boundaries were crossed?"
"No," you replied immediately. "Never. We've been very intentional about consent and boundaries. If anything, we've over-communicated to make sure neither of us feels pressured."
Sarah's tone shifted slightly, more probing. "Regarding the consensual nature, given the inherent power imbalance between an attending and a resident, have you ever felt that Dr. Robinavitch used his position to influence the relationship, even subtly? For example, implying better opportunities or evaluations in exchange for personal involvement?"
You met her gaze with security, leaving no room for argument. "No. Never. It was consensual because we’ve always treated each other as equals outside work. No quid pro quo, no manipulation."
Finn scrolled on his tablet. "Moving to the professional side, the complaint alleges that since the relationship began, you've received preferential treatment, such as being assigned more high-profile cases, higher performance evaluations, and perhaps leniency in feedback. How do you respond to these claims?"
You leaned forward slightly. You’d worked your ass off to get where you stood now, and you’d be damned if you let anyone underestimate you, thinking you’d earned your place by sleeping with someone instead of the endless nights of study, the brutal shifts, and the hard dedication it actually took. "I respond by saying they're not accurate. My role as chief resident already involves leading on high-acuity cases, that's part of the position, assigned by the program director based on seniority and performance. I've handled tough traumas because I'm available and capable, not because of favoritism. My evaluations have been strong since my intern year, from multiple attendings, not just Dr. Robinavitch. If you compare my pre-relationship evals to now, there's consistency. In fact, he's given me more pointed feedback recently."
Sarah tilted her head. "Can you provide a specific example of a case where you believe the assignment was merit-based rather than influenced by your relationship?"
"Sure," you said. "Take the multi-car pileup two weeks ago. I was the senior resident on shift, so I took the lead on the most critical patient, a pedestrian with abdominal evisceration. Dr. Robinavitch supervised, but he didn't hand-pick me, the triage nurse assigned me based on protocol. We stabilized the patient and got them to the OR. My outcomes on that case were with minimal complications. If it were favoritism, why would he push me harder in debriefs? He doesn't let me slide, he expects more because he knows I can deliver."
The interview stretched on for nearly forty minutes more, asking you of examples of critical feedback from Robby, and instances of perceived shielding. You provided dates, patient outcomes, and even suggested they pull resident feedback surveys where you'd been rated highly by peers.
An hour later, they called Robby in.
"Dr. Robinavitch, thank you for coming on short notice. I'm Sarah Smith, HR Director. This is my assistant, Finn Rivera. Please, take a seat."
Robby took the offered seat across from them, keeping his back straight, resting his hands loosely on the table. He wasn't here to fidget or defend himself or the relationship, he was here to state facts.
"For the record," Sarah began, her voice sounding practiced, "this meeting is being recorded for documentation purposes. Date: January 10, 2026. Time: 11:20 a.m. Present: Sarah Smith, HR Director, Finn Rivera, HR Assistant, and Dr. Michael Robinavitch, Senior Emergency Attending and Chief Attending Physician at Pittsburgh Trauma Medical Center."
Robby nodded once. "Understood."
Sarah adjusted her glasses, glancing at the thin folder in front of her. "Dr. Robinavitch, we're here today to discuss a formal anonymous complaint we've received regarding potential favoritism and conflicts of interest within the Emergency Department. The allegations center on your personal relationship with the current chief resident, and how it may be influencing departmental operations, including case assignments, performance evaluations, and overall fairness to other residents and staff."
Robby's expression didn't change. He'd expected this exact script. "There are no explicit rules in this hospital regarding fraternalization between chief attending and chief resident. The complains should be marked as unsubstantiated."
Sarah nodded, her tone neutral. "We're aware of that. However, following your public comments during last night's sign-out, where you addressed the department directly, additional concerns have been raised. Multiple staff members have contacted us expressing discomfort with what they perceive as a power imbalance. Some feel it creates a hostile work environment, where raising legitimate issues could lead to retaliation, based on your statements. Our role in HR is to conduct a thorough, impartial investigation to ensure compliance with hospital policies and to protect all employees."
“All of this is bullshit. This place would have more stars in Google than Disneyland if instead of concerning with what competent workers do in their personal lives,” Robby said. “They’d concern with the fact that people have to wait twelve hours just to be seen by a doctor, or with the current shortage of nur—”
“Dr. Robinavitch, I understand your frustration, but we’re here to address the nature of your relationship with your chief resident,” Sarah said, trying to calm Robby down before he launched into a full-on rant about every fucking thing that was wrong with the hospital. “If you have any other concerns, you can direct them to Dr. Underwood.”
Robby let out a laugh that lacked any real amusement. “Oh, that’d be just fantastic. Brilliant idea.”
Finn tapped his tablet, pulling up notes. "Dr. Robinavitch, could you please confirm the nature and timeline of your relationship with the Dr.?"
Robby met his eyes steadily. "We're in a romantic relationship. It started approximately six months ago. We kept it private initially, but it's become public knowledge in the last few days."
Sarah made a quick note on her pad. "And prior to this relationship, what was your professional dynamic with her?"
"She's been a resident in the program for four years. I supervised her as part of the attending rotation, same as every other resident. She was appointed chief resident last year based on her performance evaluations from the entire faculty, not just me. That decision was made before our relationship began."
"The core of the complaint alleges that your partner has received preferential treatment since the relationship began. Examples include being assigned disproportionately high-acuity cases, receiving inflated performance evaluations, and being shielded from constructive criticism that other residents face. How do you respond to these claims?"
Robby exhaled slowly, keeping his voice level. "They're unfounded. Let's break it down. First, as chief resident, she's expected to lead on high-acuity traumas, that's the role. Assignments are based on resident availability and skill level. Her complication rates are the lowest in her class, and her patient throughput is the highest. I assign her tough cases because I trust her not to screw them up, which protects patients. If other residents feel they're not getting enough exposure, they can request more rotations. No one's come to me with that until this anonymous complaint."
Finn scrolled on his tablet. "We've pulled some data on case distributions over the last six months. She has handled 28% more level-one traumas than the average resident. Does that not suggest bias?"
"No," Robby countered. "It suggests she's reliable. Check the outcomes, her mortality rates on those cases are 15% below the department average. He patient satisfaction scores are 92% higher than the rest of residents. That's not bias, that's excellence. If I were playing favorites, I'd be assigning her the easy stuff to pad her stats. Instead, she's getting the grind because she can handle it."
Sarah tilted her head slightly. "And the evaluations? The complaint notes that your written assessments of her performance are consistently outstanding, with minimal areas for improvement noted."
"Pull the full set," Robby said. "Compare my evals of her to those from other attendings, even the surgical consultants she rotates with. They're aligned. Now compare my evals of her from before we started dating to after, there’s no change in tone or scoring. If anything, I've documented more constructive feedback post-relationship to ensure transparency. For example, in October, after a multi-vehicle crash, I noted in her report that she could improve on delegating ancillary tasks during codes to free up her focus on critical interventions. That's not 'inflated', that's fair."
"Have there been instances where you've intervened in criticism directed at her from other staff?"
"Only if it's unfounded or unprofessional," Robby replied. "Like yesterday, when a resident made a snide comment implying her skills were due to who she sleeps with rather than her merit. That's not criticism, that's sexism. I addressed it publicly last night because the gossip was spreading and affecting morale. If someone has legitimate feedback on her performance, they can bring it to me. But baseless attacks? No. That undermines the team."
Sarah's expression remained neutral, but she leaned forward. "Regarding your speech at sign-out, several witnesses described it as confrontational. You mentioned disciplinary actions, like reassigning duties, for anyone questioning her competence. Some staff feel this creates a chilling effect, where they might fear retaliation for raising concerns."
Robby tightened his jaw. "I said consequences for unfounded gossip that questions her competence based on our relationship, not for legitimate concerns. But what I've seen is whispering in hallways, second-guessing her calls in front of patients, implying she's 'sleeping her way' to success. That's not a 'concern', that's sexist bullshit. And yes, I'll shut it down hard. A hostile environment? That's what the gossip creates, for her, for me, for anyone trying to do their job without personal lives being dissected."
Finn cleared his throat. "Do you believe your relationship could compromise your objectivity in supervising her or the department as a whole?"
"I've asked myself that," Robby admitted. "Multiple times. And the answer is no. We keep boundaries. If a conflict arises, like if she were up for a promotion I directly influence, I'd recuse myself. She's in her final year, so she'll be out of residency soon anyway."
Finally, Sarah leaned back. "Thank you for your time, Dr. Robinavitch. We'll review all materials, including the data you've referenced, and follow up with recommendations. In the interim, please continue your duties as usual, but remain mindful of how perceptions can impact the work environment."
Now, Robby has his hands tight on the wheel, his knuckles going white, he’s that same controlled tension you’d seen in the ED many times before when a patient was crashing and he was the only one who could keep it together. You keep glancing at him, he was staring straight ahead, like he’s still seeing whatever went down in the HR office.
You can’t stand the silence anymore. “Robby.” He doesn’t answer right away. Just exhales through his nose. “Talk to me,” you say, softer. “Please.”
He flicks the turn signal, and takes the exit toward home, but still doesn’t speak.
You reach over, resting your hand on his thigh. “You’ve been silent since you came back. What happened up there? What did she say to you?”
“Same they said to you, probably. I told them it’s bullshit. You’re the best resident we’ve got. Told them your numbers speak for themselves, patient satisfaction, outcomes, complication rates. Told them to pull every report I’ve written on you, before and after we started. There’s no difference. I’ve been harder on you, if anything, to avoid exactly this.”
“You’re pissed,” you say quietly. It’s clear in his tone, even if he tries to soften it for you.
“Yeah.” The word comes out rough. “I’m fucking pissed.”
You nod, letting that sit. “At the hospital? At the person who complained? At me?”
He shoots you a look, almost startled. “Not at you. Never at you.”
“Then talk to me. I can take it.”
He pulls into the driveway and kills the engine. The sudden silence is deafening, but neither of you moves to get out. Robby scrubs a hand over his face, his beard rasping against his palm. “I’ve spent years building this place. Years of fighting for better protocols, better staffing, better outcomes. I’ve taken every hit, budget cuts, admin bullshit, burnout, families screaming in my face. I’ve never once compromised patient care.”
You stay quiet, letting him go. “And now? Now someone’s trying to turn what we have into a fucking scandal. Like you didn’t earn every case you’ve run. Like your evals are fake. Like I’d risk the department, the patients, everything, just to hand you favors.” He laughs once, humorless. “I’ve had attendings question my decisions before. Residents push back. Families threatening me with lawsuits. But this? This feels… personal. Dirty. Like they’re trying to drag you down to make themselves feel better.”
You reach for his hand on the gear shift, lacing your fingers through his. His grip is tight, almost too tight, but he doesn’t pull away. “I hate that they’re making you doubt yourself,” you say softly. “Even a little.”
“I don’t doubt myself.” He turns to look at you. “I doubt them. I doubt the system that lets one anonymous asshole throw mud and force me to defend something that’s none of their goddamn business.” He exhales, and you can see how some of the tension bleeds out of his shoulders. "How'd yours go?"
"Long. They asked about everything, the timeline, how it started, if it was consensual from the beginning. Like they were checking for some hidden coercion or something."
Robby narrowed his eyes. "Consensual? They went there?"
"Yeah. I told them it was mutual, that I made the first move outside work. No pressure, no imbalance exploited. But it felt… invasive. Like they were dissecting us." Your voice cracks on the last words, and suddenly the frustration boils over with unexpected tears that prick in your eyes. You blink them back, but they come anyway, spilling over as you drop your head into your hands.
"Hey." Robby's pulling you into his chest in a second. His arms are solid, cupping the back of your head with one hand. "Hey, talk to me."
You shake your head against his shirt, but the words tumble out anyway. "I'm just… so frustrated. So fucking angry. I worked my ass off for this. Years of med school debt, rotations where I barely slept, and proving myself every single shift. I earned chief resident. I earned those cases, those evals. And now? Now it's all being discredited because we're together? Like none of it matters. It's bullshit. It hurts."
The sobs come harder now, muffled against him. He holds you tighter, rocking slightly, stroking slow circles on your back. "I know. I know. Fuck them, you know you earned this. The people who matter in the ED, Dana, Yolanda, Cassie, we all know it."
You pull back just enough to look at him with tears streaking your face. "What if they don't believe us? What if this tanks my fellowship apps? Or worse, what if it makes people think I'm not good enough? I've fought for every inch in that department. The late nights studying protocols, the extra simulations, even when I was exhausted. And now some anonymous coward gets to smear it all?"
Robby's touch is gentle as he wipes your cheeks with his thumbs. "Listen to me. You're not being discredited. Not by anyone who matters. Your work stands on its own, patients alive because of you, families grateful. Think of that family that sends you flowers and cupcakes every year after you saved their child, think of all the life’s you’ve positively impacted. The data backs how professional a doctor you are. HR will see that. And if they don't? We'll fight it. Together."
You sniff, leaning into his palm. "I just… I hate feeling like this."
"You're stronger than this shit. Better than it. And fuck anyone who tries to make you doubt that." He pulls you close again, kissing the top of your head, holding you until the sobs ease into shaky breaths.
Eventually you pull back, wiping your eyes with the back of your hand. "Sorry. I didn't mean to fall apart."
"Don't apologize." He brushes a strand of hair from your face. "You needed to let it out. Hell, I wanted to punch a wall after my meeting."
You manage a watery smile. "Yeah?"
"Yeah,” He says, pressing slow and open-mouthed kisses along your neck and cheek, making you shudder from head to toe.
The heat blooms instantly in your lower belly. Just that simple touch, the heat of his lips against your skin, is enough to set your whole body alight with arousal.
“Well, I’m glad you didn’t fracture your fifth metacarpal. I wouldn’t want these hands in anything less than perfect condition.”
“Oh, I know how much you like these hands,” he says, downright smug now. He slides his palm to your waist and squeezes, making you jolt against the passenger seat. “Want me to remind you exactly what they can do?”
You nod, too breathless for words. The second your head dips, he’s already moving, stepping out of the car. “C’mon. Inside the house. Now.”
You follow on legs that feel unsteady, knees weak, every step making you feel the wetness between your thighs. You can feel how soaked you already are, the slickness coating your panties, spreading with each movement. Just the promise of him, of what’s coming, has you aching.
As you cross the threshold, Robby lands his hand on your ass in a quick and playful smack. You jolt forward on your feet with a startled laugh that melts into a needy sound.
He doesn’t bother with the stairs, he’s too desperate for that, too impatient. He curls his fingers around your hip, guiding you straight toward the couch in the living room.
Only when you’re both stretched out on the couch, you under him, caged by his body, does he pull back, just far enough to look at you. His gaze drags over your face, your neck, down the line of your body still fully clothed in the soft T-shirt and leggings you threw on after your shift. There’s something reverent in the way he looks at you, like he’s memorizing you all over again, even though he’s seen you like this dozens of times.
“You’re so fucking beautiful,” he murmurs, and with the way he says it… the way his eyes darken further, it makes heat pool in your belly.
He starts slow. His mouth finds yours in a deep and languid kiss as he slips his fingers under the hem of your shirt. He pushes it up inch by inch, trailing his lips from your mouth to your jaw, then down the column of your throat as more skin is exposed. When the shirt is bunched under your arms, he pauses to tug it over your head, tossing it aside without looking. He immediately moves his hands back to you, sliding his palms over the newly bared skin of your waist, your ribs, brushing his thumbs all over the undersides of your breasts through your bra.
Robby kisses his way down your sternum, leaving a trail of wet kisses, pausing to mouth at the swell of one breast over the lace. You instantly arch into him, threading your fingers through his dark hair almost unconsciously, and he hums in approval, the vibration making you twitch under him. With efficiency, because he’s always efficient, he reaches behind you, unhooking your bra with one hand, drawing the straps down your arms slowly as he kisses every inch of skin he uncovers.
When your breasts are bare, he stops, allowing himself just a second to look at you. His breath stutters out, and you feel his hands tremble slightly as they cup your tits, using his thumbs to circle your nipples until they peak under his touch. “Jesus,” he breathes almost to himself. “Look at you. Look at this body.”
Then his mouth is on you. He takes one nipple between his lips, sucking gently at first, barely flicking his tongue. But the tenderness doesn’t last long, he goes harder as his impatience grows, grazing with his teeth just enough to make you gasp. His hand works the other breast in tandem, kneading your soft flesh, rolling and pinching until you’re writhing beneath him, rocking your hips up against his thigh, where it’s pressed between your legs.
He switches sides, giving the same devoted attention and murmuring praise against your tits between kisses. Words like perfect, gorgeous, mine fall from his lips like he can’t help himself. He moves his free hand lower, tracing the curve of your waist, the dip of your hip, mapping every inch like he’s starved for it.
Eventually, he moves lower, kissing down your stomach, dipping his tongue into your navel, making you shiver. He hooks a hand into the waistband of your leggings, and he looks up at you, locking his eyes on yours as he peels them down slowly along with your underwear, until you’re completely bare beneath him.
He sits back on his heels for a moment, just drinking you in. The hunger in his expression is raw. It’s the same hunger you saw the first time you laid naked in front of him. “Fuck,” he says quietly, “I could look at you forever.”
You feel yourself flush under the intensity of his compliments, but there’s no embarrassment, only desire. He runs his hands up your calves, behind your knees, along the sensitive skin of your inner thighs, parting them gently. His touch is everywhere, exploring your body as if it were the first time he’s ever seen it, worshipping you like you were divine. When he finally slides his fingers between your legs, you’re already soaked, and he groans at the discovery, dropping his head to your thigh as he presses an open-mouthed kiss there.
“All this for me?” He murmures against your skin, and you can only whimper, a sound he takes as a “yes”. He starts maddeningly slow, dragging the flat of two fingers up through your slick folds in one long pass. He parts you open, spreading your swollen lips wide before sliding back down, coating himself in your wetness. Then he circles your clit with tight little spirals as he watches your face while he touches you.
He pushes those same two fingers inside you, stretching you open until your walls flutter around the intrusion. He curls them on the withdrawal, dragging over that spongy spot that makes your back arch off the couch. He keeps his thumb pressed on your clit, drawing those circles that give you overwhelming pleasure.
His forearm comes down across your right thigh, pinning it firmly to the couch, forcing you wide open for him. The position leaves you completely exposed, glistening and helpless, and he groans at the sight. You buck your hips uselessly against his hold.
“Stay still, baby. Let me play with this pretty pussy.” His pace stays torturously controlled, and when he finally lowers his mouth between your legs, you nearly cum right then.
His tongue is fucking molten. Robby starts with wide and sloppy drags at first, coating your entire cunt in wet spit as he laps you up like he’s starving. Then he narrows in, curling the tip over your swollen clit, flicking just hard enough to make your thighs jump.
“Please… right there, baby, please…” Your throaty moans come straight out of your chest. “Your tongue feels so good!”
He curls his two fingers deeper inside you, grinding his knuckles against you every time he thrusts into you. Robby groans against your pussy, like he’s getting off on the taste alone. Suddenly, he's yanking you down onto his face so there’s no escape, so he can bury his nose against your mound, fucking you with his fingers while his lips suck messily around your clit.
“Taste so goddamn sweet I could stay here all night.” He pulls away just for a second, just to admire his wrecked you look. “Keep those thighs open for me, baby.”
Every time you try to squirm, he growls and pulls you back harder, smearing your slick across his chin, his beard, his whole face glistening with you. He’s relentless and greedy, moaning louder when you clench around his fingers, like he’s chasing his own release just from drowning in your cunt.
“I’m gonna cum—fuck, don’t stop, don’t you dare stop—”
You’re trembling now, your thighs shaking around his head, and your fingers twisting tight in his hair as the pleasure takes you higher and higher. He doesn’t let up, he keeps devouring your pussy until you arch your back off the couch as the orgasm crashes over you in waves.
You gush against his mouth, and he flattens his tongue wide to catch every hot pulse of your release. Robby laps at the flood greedily, with long drags up your soaked folds, gathering the slick that’s dripping down your ass and pooling beneath you. He seals his lips around your clit again, coaxing out the last trembling spurts while you whimper and twitch.
Then he dips lower, pushing his tongue inside your fluttering hole to taste you one more time, slurping noisily at the creamy sheen coating his chin and dripping from his mouth.
He doesn’t stop until you’re boneless and totally oversensitive, tugging weakly at his hair to pull him up.
Only then does he back up your body, kissing every inch along the way, until he’s hovering over you again, his beard glistening with your arousal, and his eyes dark with satisfaction. You pull him down into a deep kiss, tasting yourself on his tongue.
Your hands frame his face, brushing your thumbs over his wet facial hair, “You’re amazing. God, Robby… you make me feel so good. Every time.”
He exhales sharply, his eyes are full of pride, the satisfaction of a man who knows he succeeded in deeply satisfying his woman. He kisses you again, slower this time, “You have no idea what you do to me.”
You smile into the kiss, sliding your fingers down his neck, over the collar of his T-shirt. He’s still fully clothed, and suddenly that feels unfair. You tug at the hem. “Your turn.”
He sits back on his heels, letting you pull the shirt over his head. You take your time, tracing the lines of his chest as they’re revealed, his broad shoulders, the muscles earned from years of hauling patients and running around the ED. You move your hands lower, untying the drawstring of his pants, pushing them down along with his boxers. He helps kick them off, and then he’s bare above you, unapologetically himself. You drop your gaze to appreciate his naked body, and the heat floods you all over again.
His cock is thick and long, the veins are standing out in pulsing ridges along the shaft, the fat head flushed dark and already glistening with precum that beads at the slit and slowly drips down the underside. It rests against the plane of his lower belly, the tip kissing just below his navel, smearing a shiny wet trail there. The dark, trimmed, but still wild, hair at the base is the same texture as the beard on his face, unkempt and curling slightly where it meets the root.
You wrap your hand around him, your fingers barely meeting around the girth. The skin is hot and smoothl, and he’s throbbing hard against your palm like it’s got its own heartbeat. You feel every ridge, every vein, the way it twitches and swells thicker in your grip. A fresh bead of precum wells up and slides over your thumb as you stroke once, lazily.
He jerks his hips forward involuntarily, fucking up into your fist like he can’t help it, chasing the pressure. The motion makes his balls draw up tight, brushing the heel of your hand.
“Fuck… your hand,” he rasps, one hand hovering over yours like he’s fighting not to grab your wrist and make you move faster. His cock pulses again, and another thick drop of precum spills over your knuckles. He shudders when you squeeze just right at the base, milking another low moan out of him. “Baby, you’re killing me.”
Robby doesn’t let you tease for long. He leans down, kissing you hard. “Need to be inside you,” he says against your lips. “Need to feel you around me.”
Without a word, he stands up and slides his strong arms under your thighs. He positions you near the edge of the couch, as he stands between your spread legs. You whimper, letting your thighs fall open wider on instinct.
He doesn't give you time to beg. Robby just steps closer, wrapping one hand around the base of his cock and the other sliding under your ass. He lifts your hips off the couch in a single effortless motion, bringing your pussy to the same level as his member. Your lower back arches off the edge of the couch, keeping your shoulders, neck, and head still pressed into the cushions, but your legs dangling uselessly in the air except where he holds you up.
The position is obscene, it feels vulnerable, you’re completely at his mercy. Your pussy hovers just above the couch, exposed and dripping.
He drags the swollen head of his cock through your drenched folds, letting the fat tip catch on your entrance, then slide up to nudge your oversensitive clit, smearing your slick all over him until his shaft glistens. Then, without warning, he lines up, notches the blunt head against your fluttering hole, and thrusts in hard.
Your back bows off the couch like you’ve been electrocuted, a cry tearing from your throat as your cunt is forced to take every thick inch at once. The stretch is fucking devastating, it always is with him, it makes your walls clamp down instinctively around the invasion. He bottoms out right away, slamming his hips flush to yours, the coarse hair at his base grinding right up against your clit, rasping over it with every tiny shift.
He stays buried deep, unmoving for a long second, letting you feel it all, the throb of his cock stretching you wide, the way his balls press tight against your ass, the way your pussy ripples and squeezes around him like it’s trying to push him out and pull him deeper at the same time.
He’s breathing hard through his nose like he’s savoring the moment. “So tight… You have no idea how good you feel.”
"Fuck—Robby—" You cry out, but he doesn't give you any more time to adjust. He starts fucking you immediately, with punishing snaps of his hips that drive him deep every time.
Each thrust jolts your whole body, making your breasts bounce, tipping your head back against the cushion. The angle is devastating, he's hitting that spot inside you on every stroke, dragging the head of his cock against your G-spot relentlessly.
You can't keep quiet, the whimpers and moans spill out of you, the words tumbling between gasps. "S-so—good—fuck—ha-ah-rder—please!"
He drops his gaze to where you’re joined, fixating his eyes on the filthy sight of his cock splitting you open, glistening with your slick every time he pulls out slow, only to slam back in deep, stretching your pussy wide around him. Your arousal is coating his shaft, dripping down his balls with every thrust.
His stare lingers there a moment longer, watching how your lips cling to him, how your clit peeks out every time he bottoms out. Then he drags his eyes higher, llanding on your tits, on the way they’re bouncing hard with the force of his hips. One hand leaves the grip on your hip, sliding up until he cups one breast, his palm engulfing it completely. His swipes his thumb over the stiff peak, sending a jolt straight to your core.
“Look at you,” he rasps. “These tits… fuck! Moving just like that while I fuck you. You’re gorgeous. You’re so beautiful. I’ll never get tired of watching you.”
He speeds up gradually, the slap of skin on skin filling the room, mixed with your gasps and his groans. Robby digs his fingers into the soft flesh of your ass as he holds you exactly where he wants you, lifted and open, helpless to do anything but take it. The couch creaks under the force, the cushions shifting beneath your shoulders.
"Look at me," he orders you, "Watch me fuck you. You feel how sloppy this pussy gets when I’m fucking you?”
You force your eyes open, meeting his gaze. His pupils are blown wide, and his face looks flushed as he pounds harder into you. The sight… the way his cock disappears into you over and over, it makes you clench hard around him.
"Fuck! yeah, just like that," he groans. "Squeeze me like that."
You do, and your walls start fluttering and gripping him on every withdrawal, trying to swallow his cock, to keep him deep inside you and milk his load. Your hands scrabble at the cushions, digging your nails into the fabric, then up to his forearms, clinging as he fucks you harder.
He angles his hips higher, tilting just right so the ridge of his cock drags relentlessly over that swollen spot inside you. The pressure makes you curl your toes, and your vision blur at the edges. You bite your lip to desperately muffle a scream, but it still rips out anyway, way too loud, echoing off the walls like you’re trying to wake the whole damn neighborhood.
“There?” Robby snaps his hips faster, keeping that same angle that has the head of his cock punching right up against your cervix, a kind of pleasure so intense it borders on pain. “Right there, baby?”
"God! Yes! Robby! right there—don't stop! Right there!" You scream, and he doesn't stop. If anything, he goes harder, thrusting into you with bruising force, making his balls slap against your ass on every thrust. The angle also makes your clit rub against his pelvis every time he bottoms out, sending bursts of pleasure spiking through you.
"Your pussy’s so fucking tight," he pants. "So wet… you’re dripping down my thighs, making a big mess—" You can feel it, your arousal is slicking his cock, coating his base, dripping down to where his fingers grip your ass. The couch is probably ruined, but neither of you cares. "Touch yourself. Play with that pretty clit, cum on my cock."
Your hand flies between your legs, finding your swollen clit and circling it fast with your fingertips. The added stimulation shatters you, your cunt clamps down hard around his cock like a vice.
“Fuck… yeah, rub that clit for me. Make yourself cum for me. You don’t know how pretty you look like this..”
"R-robby—I'm—g-gonna—"
"Do it," his thrusts start to turn erratic, he’s losing the rhythm as he chases his own edge. "Cum—let me feel it… fuck—"
You shatter. The orgasm rips through you, harder than the first, making your walls clamp down on him like a vise, pulsing in tight waves. You cry out his name, arching your back so sharp your shoulders lift off the couch as your fingers keep rubbing frantic circles over your clit to drag it out.
He groans loud, his hips stuttering as your contractions squeeze him. "Fuck—fuck—take it—Gonna pump you so full."
He buries himself deep one last time, his cock pulsing as he cums hard inside you. You feel every single fat rope of his thick load painting your walls, filling you up until it’s too much, until the pressure builds and you can feel the warmth spreading and coating every inch of you. His cock jerks with each release, the head pressed tight against your cervix like he’s trying to pump it straight into your womb. He grinds in filthy circles, rolling his hips to milk every last drop out of himself and into you.
You can feel the heat of his cum starting to leak out around his buried length, mixing with your own mess, dripping down your ass and soaking the couch beneath you. He doesn’t pull out, just keeps you pinned there while his cock softens, but still remains thick inside you, plugging you full while he catches his breath.
For a long moment neither of you moves, but after a couple of minutes he slowly lowers your hips back to the couch, careful now, easing out with a low hiss. You feel the warm trickle of his cum leaking out, pooling under you, making an even bigger mess.
Robby exhales against your neck, scraping his beard against your tender skin. “You’re fucking incredible,” his words go straight into your bones. “I can’t even begin to tell you how good you make me feel.”
Suddenly, everything else just… dissolves. The remarks from the other residents about you and Robby, the tedious HR meeting, the people who doubted your worth and your hard work. All of it vanishes.
“Better?” he whispers, brushing his lips to your ear.
You huff a quiet laugh against his skin. “Yeah. Better.”
You stay like that, wrapped around each other, the anger and sadness from the day burned away, at least for tonight. Tomorrow will bring whatever it brings. But right now, it’s just you and him.
A/N: Honestly, I don’t know if I’ll write anything else for Robby, inspiration works in mysterious ways, so we’ll see.
If you’re a moot, hi🫶🏻 If this is your first time seeing me, I usually write for Joel Miller and Tom Hardy’s characters, and I also have an updates account @cinnxmxngxrlupdates
Hnnnggghhh im thinking about Jack talking you through it when Robby's balls deep in your pussy
Cw: older!Jack & older!Robby, younger!reader (20s to 30s), kissing, fluff, praise, subspace kinda mentioned, r kinda gets there but Jack pulls her back, no use of y/n!, petnames, creampieee, Jack talks R through it because hes Dada man, sir and daddy kinks so sorry also not, check ins, the L word..., lowkey these characters all have history but I dont feel like expanding
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Between the girth of Robby's cock splitting you open, two large hands wrapped around the plush of your spread thighs, and Jack's gruff voice, soft and gentle, whispered against your temple, you feel like you're about to float away.
"Y'r doin' so good," Jack's lips press against your skin, one of his hands holds the inside of your knee, spreading you open.
Robby groans from above you, circling the pad of his thumb over your clit in tandem with each stroke of his cock.
You can feel the veiny girth of him pressing against your velvet walls — heavy and warm, stretching you deliciously wide. You've cum three times already and you're not quite sure you can handle another orgasm right now.
"Robby–" you gasp, eyes blown wide and lips parted, you can hardly breathe, "Robby, Robby, Robby, oh my god—" your voice trails into a wet choke as you try to soothe yourself through the wave of your next orgasm.
Robby nods from above you, smiling smugly at you when Jack presses a kiss to the side of your head and gathers your hair in a fist, pulling it off the nape of your neck.
Cool air hits your spine, sending shivers down your arms and thighs. There's too much happening and at the same time, it feels as though nothing much at all is. There's too much to focus on and you just cant quite seem to get a grip on where you are. You've been quite literally fucked dumb.
With lidded eyes, you fall lax in Jack's hold, spine colliding rather uncoordinated against Jack's knees, earning a hiss from both men.
Robby tries to grab you halfway down. Dropping his hold on your thigh to slip behind your head.
"Easy, kid... Christ."
Jack manages to manuever you to settle between where he rests on his haunches, your back pressed into his chest. A freckled hand cups your jaw, holding you upright, the other laces with your hand on atop the comforter.
Your'e so fucking out of it. All you can really focus on – or see, for that matter – is Robby pumping into you. You struggle to grasp onto to cloudy images of Robby's cock, the weight of his hand on your hip, Jack behind you. You feel like you're underwater.
Jack holds the back of your head, "look at that," he practically goads at the way your cunt swallows the length of Robby's cock, "prettiest thing I've ever seen."
Robby hums something in agreement that you don't quite catch.
You mumble something that sounds like a word but you're not quite sure. You're not even sure what you need, or if you said anything at all.
But in the midst of your foggy headspace, Jack notices.
Because of course Jack does. He's your lighthouse when your rafts lost at sea — when you find yourself farther from shore than you thought you were.
Its a gentle squeeze at the base of your neck, thumb and forefinger pressing against your pulse point just enough to kinda wake you up in the heavy fog of your head.
You jolt a little, slipping further into Jack's chest, tucking yourself into him in an attempt to hide yourself away for a moment.
Robby slows, gradually pumping into you but giving you a moment of reprieve while you tremble in Jack's lap.
"Jackie," you sniffle.
Jack pulls back some to look at you. "Y'okay, sweetheart?"
You fluster, whimpering under his gaze and shutting your eyes and tucking yourself further into his chest.
His brows furrow at that and he urges you upwards, detangling you from the warmth of him, "No hiding right now, c'mon."
Robby smoothes his palms up and down the length of your thighs, pressing whiskered kisses to the skin of your hips.
Jack cups your jaw in one hand, the other holding the back of your head. You both watch eachother for a moment.
"Y'okay?"
You nod, you can tell he seems unconvinced.
"Use your words."
Jack's voice deepens in that oh-so gooey heavy way that makes your head feels like its been covered in honey.
You nod again, wrapping a small hand around Jack's wrist, thumbing the vein right beneath his palm, dragging his hand up to slip his thumb past your lips, "m'okay, daddy," you mumble around his digit.
That word shifts the tone of the room and suddenly Jack is everywhere he wasn't and Robby's cock pulses within you.
"Yeah?" He slips the hand from your head down between your legs to spread your folds open where Robby's girth stretches you wide, thumb circling over your swollen clit, "just needed daddy here, huh."
He watches the way tears well at your lashline as you nod, pulling your bottom lip between your teeth, looking up at him under your wet lashes, "mhm," your voice is strained and wrought.
Jack presses kisses to your cheek up your temple, whispering "daddy's here," he soothes you when you whimper, brain melting away at the warm place that Jack's presence moves you towards, "s'okay, baby, you're okay," words muffle when he turns your jaw, pulling you into a kiss.
Robby pumps into you and you moan into Jack's mouth, holding his wrist where he cups the underside your jaw.
"She okay?" Robby cocks his head, thick brows raising, towards Jack. You can feel him nod against you and you try to hold onto some part of Robby but just end up looking up at him under heavy lashes, lips parted.
Robby seems to understand, "just needed daddy t'calm y'down a bit, huh, honey."
You nod tearfully, "yes sir."
Robby chuckles a little at that, "yes sir," he muses and leans forward with a groan, grabbing ahold of your cheeks, smushing them together so that your lips pucker, catching your swollen lips in a kiss.
His nose bumps against your own and your tongue swipes over the roof of his mouth earning a deep-rooted groan from the older man.
Robby pulls away from you but keeps his hand on your cheeks as he pumps into you. "Give daddy a kiss," he urges you towards Jack.
Jack hums once you've turned back to him, silver eyes watch the way his thumb runs over the plush of your bottom lip, whispering "hey, baby."
"Hi," you whisper back, breath catching in your throat when Robby angles his hips just enough so that the swollen head of his cock bruises against the spongey part of your heat.
You try to look at them both, eyes shifting from either man as you struggle to warn them, the wound string in the heat of you wrought tight, bordering on snapping.
A whimper falls past your lips, settling in your throat when Robby circles your clit and spreads your sopping folds open where his girth parts you.
"Think m'gonna cum again," you sob, eyes settling on Jack when he shushes you softly.
"I know. Just keep breathin' fr'me, sweetheart."
The tears fall faster than you can stop them, brows furrowing and lashes tickling your flushed cheeks when your scrunch your eyes closed, the heavy pleasure sinking you underneath it all.
It feels almost like you're drowning. Your ears ring and there's an uncertain fuzziness that settles in the core of you. Wading out on a raft.
"Thank you sir, thank you, thank you," you ramble through heavy tears and choked sobs that dont seem to stop.
Jack holds you to his chest, his chin atop your head as he strokes a hand down down the middle of your breasts, massaging your sternum softly.
Robby hisses from above you when your walls clamp down around him. He circles your clit as he gently rocks you through it, balls pressed up against your folds when he spills into you, "fucking good girl."
You're shivering in the warmth of Jack's arms, trembling as you grasp on to him.
"That was a big one, huh," Jack hums when he feels you begin to relax, legs no longer tense and your grip on him turns soft.
You nod against him, eyes heavy. You swallow dryly, coughing a little when the back of your throat
"Was a lot," you mumble through a wet giggle.
Jack hums and strokes a hand over your warm cheek, pulling back strands of hair that stick to your clammy temple, "and y'did so good," he coos, pressing a kiss to your temple.
Peering over at Robby, he smiles down at you, slowly and gently pulling out of you. He takes a moment to spread the swollen lips of your pussy open, watching the way his cum dribbles out of your swollen cunt.
"Good girl," he whispers softly, looking back up at you before leaning over you and pressing a kiss to your lips, "so pretty fr'us, honey."
Still breathing heavily, you let yourself settle in their hold of you, sandwiched between the two of them.
"I love you, Robby... love you, Jackie," you nuzzle either of them with each confession, running your hands over any inch of skin you can reach.
Robby kisses your nose, "I know."
Jack whispers it back into your hair and presses a kiss there.
michael robinavich x fem!reader. size kink, praise kink, penetrative sex, light d/s dynamics, safewords in place, temporary hearing loss, teasing, unprotected sex, multiple orgasms, aftercare.
word count: 1.1k
“Yeah, that’s it sweetheart.” Dr. Robby groans when the tip of his cock presses against your opening. He has his large hands splayed over your thighs, spreading your legs, with his gaze trained fiercely between them. His fingertips dig into your flesh when the head of his cock disappears. “Fuck. Look at how good you take me.”
You let out a mewling whimper, toes curling and back arching as you lift off of the mattress. His cock is thick, and he pushes in slowly. You’re shocked by the sheer pleasure of it.
“You getting close already, princess?” He asks roughly, a teasing edge in his voice. He smirks when all you can manage is a whine in response. “Yeah? Does my cock stretching you out feel that good?”
“So good, Robby.” Your response comes out in a rushed whimpery breath. He nods an unspoken “I know it does, baby.” His hands leave your trembling thighs to plant on either side of your head, holding his weight above you. Your own shoot up to grasp his forearms.
“Not even halfway there and you’re a fucking mess for me.” He grits out. Without warning he pulls his hips back, then rocks forwards, feeding you another inch. You choke on a gasp. He chuckles. “You’re too cute.”
You intake a shaky breath, muscles taught and chest tight with the overwhelming pleasure of his cock inside you. “Robby, it’s too much-“
“You’re okay, sweetheart.” He cuts you off. He tilts his head down to catch your gaze, his brown eyes firm and reassuring despite their lust-blown state. “You’re gonna cum for me.”
He rocks his hips, starting a slow, purposeful pace. He’s well acquainted with your pussy — each thrust glides right over your g-spot, and his tip kisses your cervix each time he reaches the hilt. The combination sends you plunging over the edge in no time. Your brows furrow and your mouth falls open, a moan catching in your throat as pleasure rolls through you in overwhelming waves.
“That’s it,” Robby grits out. He keeps up his steady movements, groaning softly at the feeling of your walls pulsing around him. “That’s a good girl.”
You pant softly as you start to come down. Robby lowers onto his elbows to connect his lips with yours, his beard deliciously rough against your face.
The feeling of his tongue sliding past your lips is almost enough to distract you when he starts to fuck into you at a faster pace — but your pussy is still alight from orgasm. His thick cock sears into your sensitive flesh. His tip drives incessantly against your cervix.
“Robby,” you whine into his mouth, a pitiful appeal for mercy. He shakes his head, pulling back from your lips.
“You can give me another one,” he assures. Your nails dig into the skin of his forearms, surely carving dents, but Robby doesn’t waver. You shake your head. He fixes you with a stern look. You open your mouth to speak, but he beats you to it.
“I don’t wanna hear it.”
“I can’t,” you insist. He raises his brows at you — a warning or a challenge, you’re not quite sure. Your confidence wanes. “Robby, I can’t.” You repeat meekly.
“No?” He intones.
Suddenly there’s contact against your clit, making your hips jerk. Robby’s fingers quickly fall into a well-practiced pattern, rubbing tight circles on the sensitive nerves. You let out a long moan.
“Ohhhh,” Robby echoes mockingly. His voice is rough and slightly strained with the sustained effort of fucking into you. “Yeah, baby. That’s what I thought.”
Stuttered whimpers and whines spill from your lips, broken up by the jolting force of Robby’s thrusts.
You find yourself once again hurtling towards orgasm faster than you could have imagined.
“C’mon, sweetheart.” He encourages lowly. “Be good for me. You’re doing so fucking well. I wanna feel you cum on my cock.”
That’s all it takes to get you there. It all feels so good you almost can’t process it — his fingers rubbing your clit, his cock driving against your g-spot, his hot breath against your neck.
The moan you let out as you cum is downright pornographic. Robby’s quick to follow suit with a deep groan, giving one more hard thrust before spilling inside you.
Your chest heaves. Your eyes are squeezed shut— tight—making bright sparks flicker wildly behind your eyelids. You try to catch your breath. Your cunt pulses rhythmically around Robby. Slowly, the intensity of your orgasm begins to recede.
Your eyes flutter open. You see Robby’s mouth moving, and you squint at him, trying to focus on his words through your bliss-clouded mind.
You wince when he pulls out of you. A line of cum drips out in his wake, and you let out a whimper. Or, you think you do? You stare at him, his lips still moving, and panic starts to bubble up inside you. What is he saying?
“Robby—“ your voice is muffled to your own ears. You hastily rise up on your elbows. Robby shakes his head at you, large hands coming out to grasp your shoulders, stilling you. He holds your gaze, eyes steady and earnest. You calm down a bit. You swallow thickly and say, still muffled, “I can’t hear you.”
He nods at you. You watch his lips closely when he speaks this time, and manage to recognize the words: “You’re okay, sweetheart. Just breathe.”
You focus on matching Robby’s deep, measured breaths. His eyes never stray from yours while you do. Eventually, your ears ring faintly, and the ambient sounds surrounding you — the soft hum of the air conditioning, the distant rush of traffic outside — begin to fade into attention.
“There you go.” Robby’s rough voice finally finds your ears through the stubborn remnants of cotton. “Guess that was a good one, huh?”
“Holy shit,” you exhale, laughing softly. You still feel dazed “That was insane.”
Robby lets out a hum of acknowledgement. Two long fingers sweep across your forehead, which is damp with perspiration, to softly tuck a stray hair behind your ear.
“I didn’t even know that could happen.” You speak again after a moment.
“Mhm.” Robby reaches for a washcloth stashed in the top drawer of your nightstand. “Your blood pressure drops when you orgasm, and so does the pressure in your middle ear.” He explains, beginning to gently clean between your legs. “If that happens suddenly enough it can make you temporarily lose your hearing.”
“Hm,” you smile. You love listening to Robby explain things like that — the calming tone he takes on and the certainty behind his words always makes your heart flutter. You let your eyes fall closed as he steps away to the side table, probably to retrieve your water bottle. “Tell me more, Doctor.”
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