22. she/her. socialist. bisexual. woc. little monster & 365 partygirl.
likes; fur coats, spidery eyelashes, skinny cigs. when i’m the dj.
☆⌒★ minors, ageless blogs, and bigots do NOT interact. YOU ARE RESPONSIBLE FOR YOUR OWN MEDIA CONSUMPTION! ★⌒☆
WHERE'S MY LIPLINER?✭ (masterlist)
JUST RIPPED MY TIGHTS! ✭ (rules + guidelines; requests - CLOSED)
I KNOW THE DJ! ✭ (recent works)
[NEW] mornings (finnick odair x gn!reader); lazy, peaceful mornings with finnick (fluffy blurb)
meet me behind the mall (steve harrington x fem!reader); steve was never yours to lose. you went in knowing that, but god, you'd give anything to go back to that summer. a tale of childhood enemies, kisses in cars, and the best summer of your life. inspired by my favorite track from folklore. enemies to almost lovers. focuses primarily on seasons 2, 3, and 4. (angst, fluff, smut)
LET'S GO TO ANOTHER CLUB! ✭ (what i’m working on)
piece of me; clark kent x popstar!reader
the entire world wants a piece of you. fame and fortune follow you wherever you go. but your life feels hollow, even though you're about to embark on the biggest tour of your career. can an encounter with an adorably awkward reporter change that?
honey, it’s a sideshow; steve harrington x reader
a continuation of meet me behind the mall, focusing on reader and steve’s relationship throughout season 3. fourth of july kisses under bright bursts of fireworks. secret makeout sessions in the back of steve’s car — the same backseat you promised never to be in. a bout of russian drugging forces a confession, words that neither of you can take back. (angst, smut) part ii of iii
Please stop filling the ‘x reader’ tags (and smut/angst/fluff) with responses to your inbox
I’m searching for a fic, not your response to an ask.
it’s not x reader, it’s not a oneshot/blurb/chapter, so please don’t put it in the tag where people go to find fics.
I get that people may really love a fic of yours! and will send things in your inbox and you have every right to answer them and the praise is well deserved!
but I’m clicking on the tag to read fics, not to read the responses to your asks as if it’s an Instagram stories “ask me anything” question box…
I specifically avoid blogs where I see their inbox in tags more than I see their fics…
no hate to anyone! Please don’t take this as me hating on you or saying you should not respond to your inbox, you should! Just don’t do it in the ‘x reader’ (smut/fluff/angst) tag!
I acknowledge that this is hypocritical, as I’m using the tags im asking people not to use in posts that aren’t a fic - but I’m using them ONCE, to spread some awareness of me asking this, to the tags, some people may agree with me and agree it’s annoying and some may not.
Either way, this is ONE post, I won’t tag them again, so you can go back to browsing for things to read :)
alright, i'll be the one to say it. ao3 and tumblr becoming "mainstream" did so much damage to the community and the writers. i have seen loads of videos and posts about:
1. people hating on writers and fics. writing is something we do for free and for fun. if you stumble upon a fanfic that isn't necessarily your cup of tea or you just don't like, scroll. dont read it. literally leave their page. you don't know if this could be the author's first work that they're so excited about, you dont know if the language they're writing in isn't their first language, you dont know that the writer could be a literal teen and loads of other reasons. fanfictions don't HAVE to be perfect. you write what you want to write because we do it for fun and enjoyment and we want to share that to the world. seriously, what is the wrong with that?..
2. x reader consumers getting WAY too entitled. the number of tiktoks i've seen that say "i run a strict program when it comes to reading fanfics." girl you aint running shit. this is FAN FICTION you're reading. F A N F I C T I O N. there is no denying that most fanfiction writes are beyond talented but just because you read one fanfic that exceeds your expectations doesn't give you the right to talk down on others that don't. people have their own personal writing style, their way of doing things and you talking shit on that isn't right.
at the end of the day, we are all humans, reading and writing is what we do and what we're meant to do. and for you to talk shit about a person WRITING is so insane. we are humans. not some robots that you can tell what to do so you can consume it.
i've seen so so many authors take down their fanfics and losing all motivation to write because of a hate comment. DONT LIKE DONT READ‼️
and to every author reading this, this community values your work and your contribution. we love u and, please, never let anyone's negative words have an effect on you.
the sun was barely even up and you felt robby shift beside you. you stirred, shutting your eyes tight as you fell out of your rem cycle. your legs were sore, moving around under the comforter as you pulled the sheets closer.
the night before was… a lot. robby had a particularly bad day at work, which prompted you to encourage him to take it out on you, per usual. it was hot and heavy rounds, which he was even surprised he could pull off.
you hadn’t done much the day before, but your sleep schedule was highly trained into the later hours of the evening and the later hours of the morning. who could blame you, though— summer.
not that you were a light sleeper, but something in you head rang an alarm for robby’s absence. your arm swung up and down the sheets, feeling the suddenly cold folds and wrinkles of cotton.
you remember falling asleep while rubbing your hand up and down the hair on his torso, from his chest to the swell of his belly. you were making some joke out of it, but it ended it up being really soothing. his hand over yours was the last thing you felt before the lights went out on you.
lifting your head, you peeked over your shoulder to see that the sun hadn’t even surfaced the windows yet. robby’s alarm clock had a bright red 5:53 shining at you.
“robby!” you groaned before stuffing your head back in the pillows.
“yeah, sweetheart?” you heard the sound of his electric toothbrush buzzing as he padded back into the bedroom from the en suite. he was undoubtedly scrubbing over his teeth harshly, like his life depended on it.
popping your head back up, you peeked at him again. he was blurry from a distance and still in his boxers. his hairy tummy spilling over and hair damp from the shower, he came slightly closer to the bed.
“too early.” you complained, gesturing for him to get back in.
“go back to bed then, honey.” he said before you groaned again, throwing the duvet over your head.
you didn’t realize that you had fallen back asleep. you were cocooned under the sheets, snug and comfortable. you didn’t want to move until you realized you were about to lose robby for twelve hours (likely more).
robby was sitting up in his scrubs at the edge of the bed, checking his phone, when you perked up. rubbing your eyes, his back facing you came into focus, as did the alarm clock. 6:20.
“morning, baby.” you sighed, reaching your arms out to him. your body lazily drooped over the mattress to meet his backside as your arms slung over his shoulders.
“morning, gorgeous.” he mumbled, leaning into you. his hand anchored onto your forearm. he had his glasses perched on his nose, turning his head over to attempt to see you. “i was thinking about waking you up to say goodbye, but ‘s early for you. go back to bed.”
you kissed the back of his neck with a tired whine, “uh, uh. want you.”
“got work, sweetheart.” he put his phone down as your arms grasped together.
you pulled your legs up to wrap around his waist. tiredly, you hoisted yourself onto his backside. you shifted around until you got comfortable, body practically crawling up his. you settled as you strapped to his back. resting your chin on his shoulder, you kissed him on the cheek.
“what’re your plans today, baby?” robby asked, looking at you as you squeezed your legs around him. he reached a hand to ruffle your hair.
“gonna go swimming at liv’s.” you mumbled, shutting your eyes. “uv’s eight today.”
“don’t forget sunscreen. i got the one you like… smells like bananas?” he said, brushing your hair out of your face. you peeked an eye at him as he spoke. “it’s in the hallway cabinet with the towels.”
“thank you, doctor.” you gave him a wide smile before leaning in for a kiss. his beard brushed your chin as you did so, and you could taste coffee on his mouth.
“doin’ anything else?” he asked, reaching his arm around you to pull you into his lap. his hand squeezed your waist as you maneuvered your legs over him.
you got comfortably on his lap, the small of your back fitting into his arms. your legs hung off his thigh and onto the bed. your side against his torso, his warmth radiated onto you and his hands found your skin.
slinging your arms around his neck, you looked up at him as you settled, “lunch and maybe some shopping.”
he grinned down at you as you adjusted his glasses up his face.
“well, of course.” he nodded, hand going to hold the side of your face. “you gonna send me pictures, baby?”
“of the pool or lunch or shopping?” you smiled
“i think you know the answer to that.” he chuckled, surfacing a hand over your thigh. “better see some charges on my card today.”
“you know me.” you yawned, resting your head in the nook of his neck
“you should get some rest. got a big day ahead, sweetheart.” he placed a kiss on your temple.
been thinking about crawling up robby’s back lately… like i wanna jump him affectionately? idk. is this beautiful life too much to ask for?
i love robby’s salt and pepper beard sm ☹️💗 like imagine him on a day off reading a book (glasses on), slightly slouched against the headboard as you lay on top of him and play with his beard and lay soft kisses against his jaw, i can’t 😭💗
cuddling with robby
you climb on top of robby, nudging his book where it rests on his chest to lay your head down in its place. robby lifts it to allow you to settle in before resting it on your back to continue reading, his other hand resting on your lower back rubbing slow circles between turning pages.
you place one hand on his chest to support yourself, feeling the steady rhythm of his heartbeat beneath. you press of a soft kiss against his jaw, the corner of his lips quirk up in a smile, his cheeks turning a light shade of flushed pink.
you reach your free hand up and cup his jaw, combing your fingers through his beard, nails scratching softly at his skin beneath the hair.
robby huffs a small contented sigh, “what’cha doing, honey?” he smiles, pressing a kiss to the top of your head before turning his attention back to his book.
“nothin…just loving you.” you giggle softly as his cheeks grow hotter under your finger tips, his smile growing wider.
“oh, well…in that case, carry on.” he chuckles, giving your side a little squeeze.
fluff! fluff! fluff! fluff! fluff! val’s written fluff everybody!!
want to be added to my robby taglist .ᐣ reply to this post ᝰ.ᐟ ( taglist is tagged from another acc )
one shot ✮ michael robinavitch x resident!reader ✮ 18+
summary: when robby leaves pittsburgh for a three month sabbatical, you’re left house-sitting his apartment. what starts as the occasional check-in text quickly becomes part of your daily routine, and somewhere between late night phone calls, shared photos and thousands of miles apart, neither of you realise you’re falling until it’s far too late to stop.
tags: age-gap but not mentioned massively, long distance, robby is yearning, friends to lovers, slow burn, texting, photo texts, eventual phone sex, masturbation, dirty talk, happy ending.
wc: 12.8k
a/n: i haven't included any visuals of the reader in place of where selfies are sent bc i want this to be inclusive for anyone who reads. also sorry for some of the gaps / spacing between texts n paragraphs, i hate the tumblr word block limit and ANOTHER sorry if the pics aren't transparent. i reached the end of my tether at this point
✮
"Silver key is lobby, brass is front door." The bunch jingled between his fingers. "This one is for the mailbox, you can just leave anything that comes in on the side."
You stood in front of Robby with your arms folded, letting him run through his spiel even though you were a grown woman and could probably figure out which key got you through which door. Still, you nodded along, even made a joke about taking notes that seemed to fall flat, and then he was pulling a scrap of paper from his pocket with four digits scribbled across it.
"This is the alarm code-”
"Jesus, what neighbourhood do you live in again?"
"You don't have to use it, but a young woman staying alone? I want you to feel safe."
He handed you the note. That felt sweet.
You weren't entirely sure how you'd ended up being the one house-sitting for Robby while he disappeared on a three month sabbatical. You were the newest resident, barely eight months into your time at PTMC, but for whatever reason he seemed to trust you. He liked the way you taught, how patient you were with the med students, how you somehow managed to balance nurturing them without letting them walk all over you.
You'd been a little intimidated by him when you first arrived. Robby didn't take mistakes lightly. If you fucked up, you fucked up. There was no sugar coating it.
But he'd turned out to be a better teacher than you'd expected, taking you under his wing and dragging you into procedures most residents would have had to fight to get near. Sometimes you wanted to call it favouritism but it was probably just him doing his job. Probably.
"Anything else I need to know?" you asked. "Weird neighbours, paranormal activity, stalker exes?"
You tried to keep a straight face, only for the corners of your mouth to betray you.
He shook his head, laughing. "You sure you're okay doing this?"
"Are you kidding? This is gonna be like a vacation for me."
Robby nodded once, seemingly satisfied, and dropped the keys into your palm.
"Good. Call me if you need anything."
He started backing away towards the chaos of the ER. "Hey, remember. No parties, no pets, no boyfriends. Yours or anybody else's."
You scoffed, not quite loud enough for him to hear. Party? Required more than three friends. Pets? Required energy. And boyfriend? Don't even go there.
You didn't see Robby again before he left. Maybe the apartment handover had counted as a goodbye, or maybe the ER had simply done what it always did and swallowed every spare second before anyone got the chance to wave him off into the sunset.
Either way, all you could really focus on right now was three whole months without roommates and a bed bigger than a single. Happy days.
-
You managed to slip off shift without attracting any attention from the nurses or the night shift. Robby had said the only person he'd told about the house-sitting arrangement was Abbot. If you wanted to tell people, you could, but he didn't particularly care either way.
You decided to keep it quiet.
Work wasn't really where you made friends. You had three good ones on the outside but that was mostly it. Everyone was nice enough in the ER, and there had been the occasional invitation for drinks after a shift, but by seven o'clock you were usually too exhausted to be anything but horizontal.
Your circle stayed small, mainly Mckay and Ellis within the hospital.
You worked with Cassie every day and had become close over the months, and Parker had been your person during those brutal night shift rotations when you first arrived in Pittsburgh.
Either way, you made it to Robby's building without interception. Silver key for the lobby and brass for the apartment. Just like he'd said.
The building itself was nice. Clean hallways, warm lighting, planters hanging in the windows. The kind of place that felt looked after without trying too hard about it. The apartment was even nicer. Or maybe it just felt huge compared to the place you shared with four other girls.
"Well, fuck." The words slipped out before you could stop them as you flicked on the light switch.
The front door opened into a small hallway that led into a spacious living room, all exposed brick and worn hardwood floors. A brown leather sofa sat opposite a huge TV, surrounded by shelves packed with books and an almost concerning number of CDs.
You drifted towards them automatically, scanning album titles as you went. Pearl Jam, R.E.M., Jeff Buckley. A laugh escaped you.
"Checks out."
Your finger brushed across the collection before you moved on, abandoning your investigation in favour of something far more important.
Bed.
The guest room had already been made up for you, fresh sheets stretched neatly across the mattress and extra towels folded at the end like you were checking into a hotel instead of crashing in your attending's spare room. It made you smile.
Maybe your standards for grand gestures were embarrassingly low, but between that and the hundred dollars waiting on the kitchen counter with a note that read for anything you need, you couldn't help it.
There was still plenty left to explore. The contents of his fridge, the bookshelves, photo albums (or lack thereof) and most definitely the bedside drawers. But not tonight.
You peeled off your scrubs, barely managing to change before exhaustion caught up with you. Within minutes you were under the covers, eyes heavy, asleep before your head had properly settled into the pillow.
-
Turns out this house-sitting gig was absolute heaven.
Two days in and it was already starting to feel less like a favour and more like a reward.
Today was your day off. You'd actually eaten breakfast instead of inhaling a protein bar, spent the afternoon doing absolutely nothing productive and met up with a couple of friends for drinks that evening. The friends who weren't doctors, nurses or in any way connected to the hospital.
Then you'd come home, changed into something comfortable and settled onto Robby's sofa with your book.
Life was good.
So far, the hundred dollars he'd left behind had contributed to a half-full fridge and a bottle of wine, which felt perfectly reasonable considering Robby had specifically said it was for anything you needed. It was somewhere around chapter twenty-three of your hot romance fantasy novel (not one of Robby's) when your phone buzzed beside you.
Robby:
Hey, hope you're good. Just checking in to make sure everything's okay?
You smiled before you could stop yourself. He was so proper. So formal. Even his texts somehow read like work emails. Still, you appreciated him checking since you honestly hadn't expected to hear from him at all.
The whole point of this trip was supposed to be getting away. You'd heard him say more than once that he wanted to leave Pittsburgh and everyone in it behind for a while. No calls. No emails. As close to no contact as he could realistically get. According to Robby, that was the only way to properly clear your head.
The one exception had always been Abbot, maybe even Dana. Apparently now it was the three of you.
You:
all good! your apartment is insane by the way
and thank u for the money, u didn't have to!
You took a sip of wine as you hit send. A reply came almost immediately.
Robby:
You're doing me a huge favour!
Spend wisely…
A laugh escaped you. You were a little tipsy by now. Not drunk, just pleasantly warm from the two glasses of pinot you'd had at the bar combined with the one currently sitting beside you. Which, admittedly, was a lot considering you barely drank.
Without thinking too hard about it, you snapped a picture of the glass balanced on the coffee table. Then you zoomed in slightly. Mostly to crop out the fact you weren't using a coaster.
You:
wise you say???
The typing bubbles appeared almost instantly. Then disappeared. Then appeared again. You frowned at the screen.
For some reason, a flicker of self-consciousness crept in. Maybe the photo was weird. Maybe the lipstick mark on the rim was weird. Maybe it was weird to be sitting in your attending's apartment drinking wine and texting him on a Friday night.
Before you could overthink it further, another message appeared.
Robby:
Naughty!
Your stomach flipped. It was ridiculous. The word itself wasn't even remotely suggestive. If anything, it was probably about the coaster.
But between the wine and the book currently sitting open beside you, the message seemed to land somewhere deep in your belly. You stared at it for a second longer than necessary.
"Time for bed." You said it out loud, as though hearing it might make it true.
Leaving the glass on the coffee table with a single sip left, you gathered your book and headed for the guest room.
-
Robby stared at the photo for longer than he meant to. Not at the wine or the coffee table and certainly not at the missing coaster.
His attention had landed on the faint lipstick mark circling the rim of the glass and stayed there for a second too long before he caught himself. He sat back against the headboard of the hotel bed, somewhere around Chicago, after a long day on the road.
The room was forgettable. Beige walls. Generic artwork. The low hum of an air conditioner fighting for its life in the corner. Exactly the kind of place he'd expected to find himself in.
He'd only been checking in. That was all.
You were doing him a favour and it seemed polite to make sure everything was going smoothly.
Except now he found himself picturing you in his apartment. Curled up on the couch, feet tucked beneath you. A glass of wine in one hand and whatever book had managed to distract you from answering his text in the other.
His apartment. His couch. His glass.
He exhaled through his nose. It was ridiculous. Of course you were there, that was the entire point. For the next three months you were going to be using his mugs, watching his TV, standing under his shower and sleeping in the guest room.
None of that should have felt strange. And it didn't. Not really. It had just been that split second when the photograph appeared on his screen and his brain had connected the image to a real person rather than the vague idea of someone looking after his place.
Someone he'd see almost every day at work. Someone currently sitting exactly where he usually sat. Robby shook his head once, more at himself than anything else.
Then he typed out the reply.
Naughty!
The second it was sent, he dropped the phone onto the bedside table and turned off the lamp. Tomorrow he'd have another few hours of driving ahead of him. That was what he should be thinking about.
Not a lipstick stain on a wine glass.
-
It was strange how different work felt when you had somewhere peaceful to come home to.
The shifts were still long and the patients exhausting. None of that changed. But when there were no roommate arguments waiting for you at the end of the day, no mountain of dishes that didn't belong to you and no obnoxiously loud sex through the wall at midnight, everything felt a little more manageable.
You had energy again. Energy to come home and shower. Energy to cook. Energy to actually enjoy your evenings instead of collapsing face-first into bed.
You'd always been a good cook. Your mom had made sure of that. While other kids were watching TV, you'd been standing beside her in the kitchen learning how to chop onions without crying and season food without measuring every ingredient.
Your family tree contained exactly zero Italians, but your signature dish was carbonara. Real carbonara. The proper kind. The kind that required ingredients expensive enough to make you wince in the grocery aisle.
Which was exactly why you rarely made it. But with Robby's hundred dollars quietly subsidising your lifestyle, you figured you deserved a treat.
The plan was going perfectly until you tried to turn on the hob.
"Come on."
You twisted the dial until it clicked. Nothing. You tried again.
Another click. Still nothing.
By the fourth attempt, you were staring at the appliance like it had personally offended you.
"Am I losing my mind?"
Getting a burner lit should not have been this difficult. You glanced at your phone sitting on the counter.
No. Absolutely not.
You were not texting Robby because you couldn't operate a stove. You were a doctor, a functioning adult. You could figure this out.
Another click. Nothing. "For fuck's sake." The curse echoed around the kitchen. A few seconds later, you picked up your phone.
You:
i don't want you to think i'm completely incompetent but i cannot work your hob…
Three states away, Robby's phone lit up. He'd spent most of the day hiking through some forest outside Rockford before ending the evening under a shower hot enough to steam up the entire bathroom.
He walked over to the phone, towel slung low around his waist, hair still damp. The text made him laugh.
Robby:
You have to turn and press. It's more of a button than a switch!
Also don't worry, I couldn't work it for the first six months I lived there because of that…
It was strangely comforting to know a physician widely regarded as one of the smartest people in Pittsburgh had also been defeated by a kitchen appliance.
Following his instructions, you pushed the dial inward and a blue flame immediately burst to life.
"Oh thank god."
You set a pot of water on one burner and poured oil into a pan on the other before reaching for your phone again.
You:
life saver. i was about to starve
and the great robby also not knowing how to operate a stove makes me feel better so thank u
Back in his hotel room, Robby laughed quietly at the screen. A small smile lingered as he reread your message.
He'd answered your question, technically the conversation could end there and it probably should. Instead, his thumbs hovered over the keyboard for a second.
Robby:
What are you cooking anyway?
You saw the message while stirring egg and cheese into freshly drained pasta. Not now. Carbonara required concentration and you weren't risking scrambled eggs for anybody.
Five minutes later, when the sauce was silky and clinging perfectly to the noodles, you twisted a generous serving onto a plate and admired your handiwork.
Then you grabbed your phone.
You:
carbonara!
You attached the picture before hitting send.
The photo sat open on his screen for a moment. He wasn't entirely sure what he'd expected, certainly not that. It looked better than anything he'd eaten in the last week.
After a moment he tapped the heart reaction and tossed the phone onto the mattress beside him. He ignored the part of himself that wanted to ask for the recipe.
-
The next two days brought two hellish shifts.
First a mass casualty then a stomach bug that seemed determined to take down half the ER.
Dana did her best to pull people in for extra coverage, Abbot came in early and somehow ended up working a double, but even that barely kept things afloat. It was chaos. The kind that left you running entirely on adrenaline until your body remembered it was human.
You finally made it home just before eleven: a personal record. The worst part was that when you dragged yourself up the stairs, peeled off your scrubs and collapsed into bed, you couldn't sleep.
You were trapped in that miserable state of overtiredness where your body was begging for rest while your brain stubbornly refused to switch off.
You hadn't looked at your phone once during the shift. Not during the mass casualty or the endless stream of patients. Not even while inhaling a granola bar somewhere around hour twelve. It stayed buried in your pocket until you stepped through the apartment door.
It wasn't until you were under the covers that you finally saw the notification waiting for you.
Robby:
I had diner food for the third night in a row tonight, your carbonara is making me look bad…
He'd given you a rough outline of his route before he left and, if you remembered correctly, he should be somewhere near Minneapolis by now. An hour behind. Not too late.
You:
trust me, my carbonara is the least impressive thing about my week
i just survived a mass casualty and half the department trying to die from a stomach bug
diner food sounds peaceful honestly
Robby:
Mass casualty?
You:
three car pile up
and before you ask everyone survived
mostly because abbot worked about seventeen hours straight
Robby:
I leave for one week…
You:
i was waiting for someone to blame
Robby:
Blame Dana…
You:
do you think i have a death wish???
that's not the attending wisdom i was hoping for
Robby:
🤷🏻♂️ ️
You stare at the screen. He's using emojis now? Something about that feels strangely significant.
The conversation probably should have ended three messages ago. Instead, another text appears a few seconds later.
Robby:
You okay?
The question catches you off guard. Not because it's particularly personal, just because he seems to actually mean it. You stare at the message for a moment before replying.
You:
yeah
just tired
too tired to sleep which is apparently a thing
Robby:
Been there. Your body's exhausted but the brain's stress response overrides it
Makes for a very restless night
You:
oh good
thought i was dying
Robby:
You're a doctor..
You always think you're dying
A quiet laugh escapes you. You weren't entirely sure why any of this felt comforting.
After one of the worst shifts you'd worked in months, you were lying awake in your attending's apartment, texting your boss from beneath the covers.
On paper, it sounded ridiculous but the knot that had been sitting between your shoulders since this morning was slowly beginning to loosen.
Your eyes felt heavier, your body sank deeper into the mattress and the first time all night, sleep actually seemed possible.
You:
night robby x
You hit send before thinking too hard about it. A second passed. Then two. Then your phone lit up.
Robby:
Sleep well!
You smiled at the screen. By the time you set your phone on the bedside table, your eyes were already closing.
Robby didn't go to sleep straight away.
Instead he sat against the headboard, phone still in his hand, staring at the open conversation. The room was quiet. Outside, somewhere beyond the hotel curtains, a truck rumbled along the interstate.
His thumb drifted across the screen and paused, hovering over the last message.
night robby x
Just one stupid little letter. It probably meant absolutely nothing. For all he knew, you signed every text that way. You were exhausted when you'd sent it, practically half asleep and already drifting off. He knew that. So why was he still looking at it?
With a quiet huff of amusement at himself, Robby locked the screen.
Tomorrow he'd drive another few hundred miles, stay at another hotel, eat another mediocre meal. Continue doing exactly what he'd left Pittsburgh to do.
And yet, as he finally switched off the lamp and settled back against the pillows, he found himself wondering whether you'd text him tomorrow.
The thought stayed with him longer than it should have. Long enough that sleep didn't come quite as quickly as usual.
-
The next few days settled into something that almost resembled normality (or at least as normal as life in the ER ever got).
The stomach bug finally burned its way through the department, leaving a trail of exhaustion and empty electrolyte bottles in its wake. Everyone looked tired and complained constantly. You included.
It was nearing the end of another shift when your phone buzzed in your pocket.
You ignored it only for it to buzz again.
And because every doctor secretly believed they were the most important person in the building, your brain immediately convinced itself it could be an emergency.
You pulled it out while waiting for the elevator.
Robby:
Rode twenty minutes off route for this
You opened it. Then frowned. Then laughed.
You:
what the fuck is that
Robby:
The world's largest prairie chicken
You:
of course it is
you rode twenty minutes out of your way to see a giant chicken?
Robby:
Yes.
You:
no further questions your honour
The elevator doors opened. You stepped inside, still smiling at your phone. Another message appeared.
Robby:
Thought you'd appreciate it!
Your lips curled at the suggestion he had taken the picture with you in mind.
You:
i'm genuinely concerned about how you're spending this sabbatical
Robby:
That's fair
For the record I did also spend six hours riding through some very beautiful countryside today
You:
and yet it was the giant chicken you sent
Robby:
Correct.
You laughed, probably too loud for the setting as others in the lift glanced over before you quickly looked away.
You:
well i'm glad my attending is making good use of his time
Robby:
You laughed didn't you?
You:
immediately
The elevator dinged and people shuffled out around you while you lingered behind, looking down at the conversation. At the completely pointless exchange.
The kind of conversation that served no purpose whatsoever and yet somehow it had made the end of a miserable shift feel lighter.
Robby:
Worth the detour then
You shook your head but the smile wouldn't disappear. It stayed with you all the way to the parking lot.
Across the county, Robby sat on the edge of his hotel bed with the television murmuring quietly in the background.
The hotels he was staying in were nice, he had the money to stay in much nicer but there wasn't much point when only passing through.
The final destination was a cabin in Alberta. That's where he'd spend the rest of the sabbatical when he got there, that he had spared no expense on.
But he didn't find himself thinking of his trip. The conversation still sat open on his phone. Nothing important, just the giant chicken staring back at him amongst a handful of messages and a stupid amount of amusement considering the subject matter.
After a minute, he locked the screen and set the phone aside. Then despite himself, he found his gaze drifting back towards it as though another message might somehow appear.
He'd be crossing into North Dakota soon and if he happened to see anything ridiculous along the way…
Well he knew exactly who he'd send it to.
-
The next few days followed suit. You and Robby started speaking like it was part of your routines without ever actually agreeing to it.
Nothing constant or heavy, just small check-ins threaded through the day. Snapshots from the road. Snapshots from the ER.
Things you'd caught out of the corner of your eye like the giant pigeon on a fire escape outside the hospital that made you stop mid-conversation just to take a picture.
Food also became a kind of currency between you. The home-cooked meals you'd send, still steaming on the plate whilst he'd drop his roadside breakfasts, gas station coffee, or whatever local specialty he'd found himself staring at that day.
You started waiting for the messages without really meaning to. Both of you did.
Robby:
This morning's view
You:
versus my morning's view
—
You:
i'm going old school and listening to your CDs
you have good taste old man
Robby:
I'll ignore those last two words and take it as a compliment...
—
Robby:
Got caught in a thunderstorm on the road today
You:
😭😭😭 😭 😭 omg
just know i'd be laughing if i were there
—
You:
robby
a guy came in today with an action figure up his ass
and dana made whitaker deal with it
Robby:
Nothing says good evening quite like a HIPAA violation
You:
i know you won't tell x
—
Somewhere between shifts and miles, the apartment stopped being the reason you spoke. It just became something that existed in the background, as if you'd both forgotten the house-sitting gig and this was all normal.
An excuse that had quietly turned into a habit. You didn't really notice the shift until one night you didn't text him at all.
Not on purpose, because of pure exhaustion. A shift that ran too long, a body too tired to think in sentences.
And on his end, Robby found himself checking his phone more than he liked to admit. Each time with a little more irritation than the last.
"Stupid." He muttered under his breath, tossing the phone face-down on the bed.
It didn't stay there long since he picked it back up a minute later.
His trip was still everything it was supposed to be. Long stretches of highway and peaceful mornings. Mountains, towns, weather that changed without warning.
It was all the kind of distance he'd been looking for and for the most part, the noise in his head had settled. It wasn't gone, he needed more than a solo road trip to fix that but it was quieter.
It was at its quietest when you text. Or when he took a picture and thought, without really meaning to, that you'd probably laugh at it.
Then his phone buzzed.
You:
sorry
today's been awful
The irritation disappeared immediately and he sat down properly on the edge of the bed.
For a moment, he stared at the message longer than he needed to. His first instinct was practical, to ask what happened and if you were okay. But it was nearly midnight your time and he knew, instinctively, that whatever you needed wasn't a barrage of questions.
Robby:
Do you want to talk about it?
You:
think i just need bed
speak tomorrow
He stared at the screen a moment longer than he meant to, leaving the chat open, your name sitting at the top of it. He didn't reply.
There wasn't anything else to say that wouldn't feel like too much.
-
The next day didn't actually bring a text. Or the day after that.
Shift patterns blurred together in the ER anyway, time measured in admissions and discharge paperwork rather than hours. You were exhausted, that was your excuse for not texting Robby. But by the second night, you were wondering what his excuse was.
It wasn't anything dramatic, just… absent.
No photos from the road or pointless updates about whatever strange thing he'd stopped to look at. There'd been no diner food commentary that made you roll your eyes while smiling at your phone.
You told yourself it made sense. Robby was on a bike somewhere between states and you were drowning in back-to-back shifts. There wasn't always going to be time.
Still, your phone felt heavier in your pocket than usual.
On his end, Robby told himself the same thing.
He'd spent most of the day on the road, miles of open highway stretching out ahead of him, the kind of silence he'd gone looking for. It should have felt good and it did, mostly. But every time he stopped for fuel, or pulled off to check a map, his hand drifted to his phone out of habit.
There he would find no new messages and he told himself that was normal.
It was normal. Until it wasn't.
-
It happened on a night that started like any other.
You'd left the hospital later than you meant to, fatigue settling into your bones in that familiar way that made everything feel slightly delayed.
The apartment was quiet when you got back.
You climbed the stairs and only realised something was wrong when your keys didn't turn properly in the lock. You tried it once, twice, three times and nothing. You paused then tried again but the lock didn't budge.
"Oh come on," you muttered under your breath.
You stared at the door for a second, exhaustion making it harder to think than it should have.
Of course this was happening now.
You pulled your phone out, looking who to burden with your troubles and force to come to your rescue. For a second, you considered calling Mckay but her shift had been just as rough as yours and Ellis' night was only just starting in the ER, suddenly you were out of options.
Your thumb hovered. Then moved.
In some hotel in one of the Dakotas, Robby's phone lit up on the bedside. His brow furrowed slightly, not expecting to see your name across the screen.
"Hello?"
Your voice came through slightly breathless and oh so tired.
"Hi," you said. "I have a problem."
He sat up a little straighter without thinking. "Are you okay?"
You let out a short laugh that didn't quite sound amused. "Your lock hates me." There was a pause.
Then, quieter, "Which one?"
"Front door."
"Right," he said. "Stay there."
"I am there."
"No," he corrected. "I mean don't try anything else. Just- stay."
You leaned back against the wall, sliding down slightly until you were sitting on the floor outside his apartment door.
"Robby," you said, "I am physically incapable of breaking your door at this point. I'm too tired to commit crimes."
That earned a small exhale of something that might have been a laugh.
"Good," he said. "I prefer it that way."
There was movement on his end. Fabric shifting, something being set down.
"Okay," he added. "Walk me through what happened."
-
The locksmith said he'd be there in twenty minutes which, judging by his tone, probably meant thirty. You thanked him anyway before ending the call and letting your head fall back against the apartment door.
"Well," you sighed, stretching your legs out in front of you. "Guess I live here now."
The laugh that came through the speaker was soft. You'd heard Robby laugh a hundred times at work, usually in passing conversations or when Dana pulled it out of him, but hearing it through the phone felt strangely personal.
"Could be worse."
"How?"
He was quiet for a moment.
"I'll let you know when I think of something."
You smiled. For a while, neither of you said anything.
The silence wasn't awkward, which surprised you. You could hear faint traffic somewhere on his end of the line, the distant sound of a television through a hotel wall perhaps.
"Where are you?" you asked eventually.
“Just outside Sioux Falls."
"Fancy..." You shifted against the wall, tucking one knee up towards your chest. "How's the trip?"
There was a pause. Not because he wasn't going to answer, but because he seemed to actually think about it.
"Good." You waited. "Actually, really good."
"Wow."
"What?"
"I don't think I've ever heard you sound that enthusiastic about anything."
"That's not true."
"Robby, I've worked with you for eight months."
"And?"
"The highlight of your emotional range is usually a nod."
That earned a proper laugh. The kind that made you grin before you'd even realised you were doing it. Why were your cheeks getting hot at the idea of making him laugh?
"That's harsh."
"I think you mean accurate."
"I'll have you know I've been having a great time."
“The giant chicken gave it away."
"Don't mock the chicken."
"I'll mock the chicken all I want."
He sighed dramatically. "This is exactly why I send you things."
Your smile lingered, you weren't entirely sure why. Like even if you wanted to get rid of it you couldn't. Maybe because it was nice knowing someone saw something during their day and thought to share it with you. Or maybe because lately, you'd been doing the same thing.
"Seriously though," you said. "I'm glad you're enjoying yourself."
The teasing slipped away a little and you could hear it in his voice when he answered.
"Yeah. I think I needed it more than I realised."
You looked down at the floor. You'd thought that yourself. The difference in him was obvious, even through a screen. The texts were lighter. There was an ease to him that hadn't existed back in Pittsburgh.
"You sound happier."
He didn't answer immediately.
"Maybe."
It wasn't much of a response. Coming from Robby, it felt like a confession.
The conversation drifted after that. Work came up eventually, because it always did. You told him about the latest departmental disaster and he laughed harder than he probably should have at Whitaker's expense. Then somehow you ended up talking about music, and when you admitted you'd been making your way through his CD collection, he spent five minutes defending an album you'd called objectively terrible.
Before either of you realised it, headlights swept across the apartment parking lot. You glanced through the stairwell window to see a white van pulling in.
"Oh."
"What?"
"That's him." You pushed yourself to your feet, brushing imaginary dust from your scrubs. "The locksmith."
"Right."
You checked the time. Nearly forty minutes since you'd spoken to him on the phone.
For a moment, neither of you said anything. Then you laughed softly.
"I don't think we've ever actually spoken like this before."
"Spoken like what?"
"Just…" You searched for the right words. "Talked."
He huffed a laugh. "We talk all the time."
"About work."
"Hmm. True."
You shook your head. "I know more about a giant prairie chicken than I do about you."
"Now that's probably not true."
"It definitely is."
The locksmith was already making his way towards the building entrance. You tightened your grip on the phone.
"Thanks for staying on the phone with me."
The words slipped out before you could think too hard about them and for a second, there was only the sound of his breathing on the other end.
"Of course." Robby said it with such ease, as if there'd never been any question about it. Something in your chest warmed at that.
"I should go."
"Yeah. You should."
Neither of you hung up immediately. You smiled even though he couldn't see.
"Night, Robby."
"Night."
-
Robby eventually made it to Alberta, trading motels and roadside diners for a cabin tucked between trees and more open sky than you'd ever seen in one place. The photos changed after that. It was less giant roadside attractions and more mountains, lakes so still they looked painted. Sunrises taken from a porch with a mug of coffee balanced somewhere just out of frame.
Your own contributions remained considerably less scenic.
You:
this mornings view
Robby:
Stunning!
You:
i know
thinking of getting it framed
Robby:
You should. Really ties a room together
The conversations drifted in and out of your days. Sometimes twenty messages. Sometimes two.
But there was rarely a day that passed without hearing from him. It had become your normal and that probably should have concerned you more than it did.
One afternoon you were halfway through a grocery shop when your phone buzzed.
Robby:
What's for dinner?
You snorted. Most days he was interested in what you were cooking, never quite getting over how good that carbonara looked weeks ago.
You:
demanding aren't we?
Robby:
I've been living off campfire food
Let me live vicariously
You balanced the basket awkwardly on your hip. Typing with one hand was becoming increasingly impossible so after a moment you sighed and held down the microphone button.
"Okay, so technically I haven't decided yet," you said, navigating around a woman studying avocados with suspicious intensity. "But I was thinking maybe chicken, potatoes, something easy because I had a twelve hour shift and Mckay spent most of it arguing with a guy who was convinced Red Bull counts as water."
You stopped recording and sent it, immediately forgetting about it as you continued to shop.
Robby was sitting on the cabin porch when the notification appeared. A voice note.
For a second he just looked at it before pressing play. Your voice spilled through the speaker, lighter than he was used to hearing at work, less hurried.
He could hear the wheels of a shopping cart somewhere in the background, people talking. The automatic doors opening and closing. It felt strangely intimate. Like being invited into a moment he wasn't supposed to be part of.
Before he knew it, the recording had ended and he found himself smiling Then replaying the first few seconds just to hear it again.
Robby:
Red bull absolutely counts as water
You:
you're part of the problem
-
A few days later you sent him a photo of a coffee shop you'd stumbled into before work. The picture was supposed to be of the ridiculous chalkboard menu, pretentious and completely overpriced.
Unfortunately, the reflection in the window caught most of your face and you didn't even notice before pressing send.
But Robby did.
He was halfway through replying when he stopped and stared at the photo. Then stared a little longer.
It wasn't as though he'd forgotten what you looked like, he'd worked beside you for months, seen you almost every day and yet somehow seeing your face appear unexpectedly on his screen felt different. Like it was more personal than bumping into you across an ER.
He zoomed in without meaning to then immediately felt ridiculous.
Robby:
That coffee costs more than my first apartment
You:
i knew you'd focus on the important issue
He didn't mention the photo but it stayed open on his screen longer than necessary.
The next Saturday night, you went out with friends.
The three you socialised with maybe once a month, the ones you'd gone out with on your first week at Robby's.
The evening disappeared beneath cocktails, bad music and stories that got funnier with every retelling. By the time you got home, your shoes were in one hand and your keys were in the other.
Your phone buzzed before you'd even made it upstairs.
Robby:
Survived?
You:
barely
my feet are filing formal complaints
Robby:
Worth it?
You:
yeah
free drinks always help
There was a pause before the typing bubbles appeared then they seemed to disappear before appearing once more.
Robby:
Free drinks?
You:
some guy at the bar bought them
either he was being nice or I looked desperately in need of a margarita
Robby stared at the screen. For reasons he couldn't quite explain, he found himself reading the message twice.
Some guy.
An entirely normal sentence since people bought drinks for each other every day. It meant absolutely nothing. Yet his thumb hovered over the keyboard.
Robby:
Which was it?
The message sent before he could overthink it and he immediately regretted it. Not because it was inappropriate, just because he sounded interested.
And he wasn't sure why he was interested.
You:
definitely the margarita
he started talking about crypto ten minutes in
That pulled a laugh out of him. An actual laugh.
Robby:
My condolences
You:
thank you
it was a difficult time
The conversation moved on after that. But later, after you'd gone to sleep and the cabin had settled into silence around him, Robby found himself thinking about the message again.
Not the drinks. Not the guy. But the fact that he'd wanted to know. And the fact he still wasn't entirely sure why.
-
You hadn't really talked about the house sitting arrangement to anyone at work.
It never seemed relevant and, if you were honest, you quite liked having something that belonged entirely to you. That was until Abbot casually asked how it was going in front of Parker and Shen. Both of them had turned so quickly you would have thought they'd rehearsed it.
John loudly slurped through his straw.
You immediately regretted coming into work.
You'd spent the next five minutes trying to explain that, yes, you were staying at Robby's apartment and no, it wasn't a big deal. At the same time, you were reassuring Abbot that everything was fine and that the place was still standing.
Parker wasn't convinced. She waited until the handover was done and everyone had started drifting away before falling into step beside you as you gathered your things from your locker.
You'd only just pulled your phone out when it buzzed. The smile arrived before you could stop it and Parker saw immediately.
"Message from your boyfriend?"
"Just Robby-”
You stopped and looked up to see her already grinning.
"Oh."
"Oh indeed."
"Haha. Very funny."
"I'm just saying," she replied, holding her hands up in mock surrender. "That man hasn't been here for nearly two months and I've heard his name more than I have some of the attendings who actually work here."
You rolled your eyes. Except the comment lingered because you didn't talk about him that much. Did you?
Sure, you texted most days, you snapped pictures when something made you laugh. You answered when he called and never made a secret of it because, in your mind, there was nothing to hide.
But maybe Parker had a point.
You were always quick to tell people where he was, what he'd been up to, what ridiculous thing he'd sent you that morning. You were also one of maybe three people who actually knew how his sabbatical was going and that felt strangely significant when you stopped to think about it.
Which was exactly why you decided not to think about it. Instead, you bumped your shoulder into Parker's arm.
"Leave me alone."
"Never."
You laughed despite yourself, waved goodbye to everyone and headed out through the main doors.
-
Even without a department full of doctors reminding him, Robby found himself thinking about you more often than he probably should.
Alberta was beautiful, exactly what he'd imagined.
The mountains seemed endless, the lakes impossibly clear and every evening the sky stretched so wide it barely looked real.
He'd come here to breathe. To remember what it felt like to wake up without immediately carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders.
For the first time in years, it was working and yet every time he stumbled across a view that took his breath away, he caught himself reaching for his phone.
The bear he'd spotted at the edge of a trail or the river he'd nearly slipped into while trying to take a photo. The sunset that turned the entire lake gold. All of it was filed away somewhere in the back of his mind. Something to show you, to tell you later.
He enjoyed those moments for himself, he really did, but there was always a second thought afterwards. A quiet one of she'd like this.
And that was dangerous territory for a man who had left Pittsburgh specifically to be alone.
-
Today had been a bad day for absolutely no reason. Work hadn't been worse than usual. There was no mass casualty or outbreak, no disaster waiting for you.
You'd left almost on time and the handover had been unusually smooth yet, somehow, by the time you found yourself curled up on the sofa with a glass of wine balanced on your knee, you felt like you might burst into tears.
You probably wouldn't but it was comforting to know you could if you wanted to.
The apartment was quiet. A CD hummed softly in the background while the evening light spilled through the windows. You'd been enjoying the solitude for weeks now.
Your phone lit up. A text from Robby. It was just a small update about his day, a picture of a lake with a note underneath telling you there was a viewpoint about a mile from the cabin that you would absolutely love.
You stared at it for a second and then pressed call without thinking.
The phone rang twice.
"Hey, you okay?" He'd answered immediately.
Not because he'd been expecting the call but quite the opposite.
You almost smiled at the concern in his voice.
"Hey. Yeah, I'm good."
"You sure?"
"Yeah." A pause. "Can you talk?"
On the other side of the continent, Robby was sitting on the cabin porch with a beer bottle in hand, watching the sky darken over the mountains.
"Yeah," he said. "Yeah, I can talk."
You exhaled. You weren't entirely sure why. Just hearing his voice had already made something feel lighter.
"Bad day?" he asked gently.
"A little."
"Want to talk about it?"
You considered it.
"Not really."
He laughed quietly. "Fair enough."
You took a sip of wine.
"Does it sound stupid if I say I just wanted to hear your voice?"
The words slipped out before you could stop them.
For a moment, all you could hear was the wind moving through the trees on his end of the line. Then Robby shifted in his chair.
"Well," he said, amusement colouring his voice, "I sure feel special."
You groaned. "Don't make it weird.”
"I'm not making it weird."
"You absolutely are."
His laugh settled something warm in your chest.
"I can tell you about the bear I saw today if you need a distraction."
You smiled. "Yes please."
And he did. He told you about the trail, about spotting movement through the trees and realising it was considerably larger than he'd first thought. Halfway through the story your phone buzzed with a picture he'd sent while still talking.
You put him on speaker to zoom in, immediately informing him that he was insane for getting that close. He disagreed.
You told him he was objectively wrong then somehow you were refilling your wine while he wandered into the kitchen for another beer and the conversation simply kept going.
Hours slipped past unnoticed. The topics changed every few minutes. Canadian wildlife became grocery shopping.
Grocery shopping became work which became Dana. Dana became the night you'd gone out with your friends. It felt effortless.
Like no matter what either of you said, the other would find it interesting, as if there were no rush to end the conversation.
Eventually, somewhere between your third glass and his third beer, Robby circled back to something you'd almost forgotten.
"So," he said casually. "Any more plans to go out and let random men buy you drinks?"
You scoffed. "Correct me if I'm wrong, but that sounds suspiciously like jealousy, Michael."
Using his first name felt deliberate. The kind of thing you couldn't take back once it left your mouth.
For a moment he didn't answer and you could almost hear him thinking.
"I think I'm just curious."
"Curious?"
"You mentioned him." His voice was careful now. "And then I spent an embarrassing amount of time wondering whether you actually liked him."
Your stomach flipped unexpectedly.
"And did you come to a conclusion?"
He laughed quietly. "Yeah."
"Which was?"
"That anyone who talks about crypto for ten minutes straight probably doesn't stand a chance."
The warmth that spread through you had nothing to do with the wine. You sank further into the sofa, smiling into your glass.
"Good answer."
For a second neither of you spoke. The silence felt different now, like an awareness blooming.
On the other end of the line, Robby stared out across the darkening lake, suddenly very conscious of the weight in his chest and the dryness in his mouth. He wasn't entirely sure when the conversation had become the best part of his day.
He was even less sure what that meant.
On your end, the wine bottle was looking considerably emptier than when the call had started.
"How much longer have you got out there anyway?" you asked eventually.
He leaned back in his chair.
"Couple more weeks."
You hummed. "A couple?"
"Three."
You did the maths automatically. Three weeks. For some reason that felt shorter than it should have.
"That's weird."
"What is?"
"You coming back."
Robby laughed softly. “I haven't left forever."
"I know."
You picked absentmindedly at the label on your wine bottle.
"Still weird though."
He understood exactly what you meant. The cabin had become normal, so had the mountains. Waking up and sending you a picture of whatever he'd found that day had become normal too.
The thought settled uncomfortably somewhere in his chest.
"Yeah," he admitted quietly. "It is."
For a moment neither of you spoke. The silence wasn't awkward, if anything, it felt too honest.
"You'll probably be sick of Pittsburgh again within forty-eight hours."
He laughed.
"Probably."
"And I'll have to move back into my shoebox apartment."
He laughed again.
"You laugh, but I've become accustomed to luxury."
"My apartment is not luxury."
"It has an en-suite."
"It does."
You smiled into your glass.
"I'm gonna miss it."
The words came out before you really thought about them and then, after a beat, you added, "The apartment, I mean."
Robby looked out across the lake. The moonlight stretched across the water in silver streaks. He wasn't entirely sure why that qualifier felt necessary.
"Yeah."
Because he was going to miss something too, he just wasn't sure it was the apartment.
"I'm glad I gave you the keys."
The words slipped out naturally.
"Because I've been such an excellent tenant?"
"Questionable."
You laughed. "Rude."
"You locked yourself out and you don't use coasters."
"That happened one time. And yes I do."
"One time that I know about. And, no you don't."
You shook your head, laughing. "So why are you glad?"
The question hung there. For the first time that evening, Robby didn't answer immediately. He could have made a joke and he probably should have but instead he found himself telling the truth.
"Because otherwise…" He trailed off and you waited. "Otherwise I don't think we'd have ever talked like this."
Something in your chest tightened, just enough to make you still. The sounds around you seemed to disappear for a second. The music, hum of the refrigerator, everything.
"Yeah."
It came out quieter than you'd intended. Because he was right.
Without the apartment, he would've stayed your attending, you his resident. You would've chatted during shifts and maybe grabbed a beer with a group after work once or twice.
But this? The hours spent on the phone, the daily messages, knowing what the other person had for dinner. Sharing parts of yourselves that had nothing to do with medicine.
None of that would've happened.
"I guess not."
Robby stared down at the bottle in his hand. His pulse felt oddly loud.
"Would've been a shame."
The words were barely above a murmur. Honest enough that neither of you quite knew what to do with them. You swallowed. Suddenly very aware of the warmth spreading through your stomach.
And not because of the wine.
Another silence settled between you but this one felt different. It felt full. Like there was something sitting quietly between the two of you that hadn't been there before. Or maybe it had and neither of you had looked directly at it until now.
"Yeah," you said softly. "It would've."
For a second, neither of you spoke, neither of you hung up either.
Somewhere between Alberta and Pittsburgh, with a lake outside one window and city lights outside the other, it felt like the conversation had shifted onto unfamiliar ground.
Not enough to turn back yet not enough to move forward. Just enough that both of you knew something had changed.
-
The next morning arrived with a headache.
Not a catastrophic one, just enough of one to remind you that two glasses of wine had somehow become four and how you clearly couldn't handle your booze anymore.
Thank god it was your day off. You'd spent most of the morning moving slowly, making a trip to the store for supplies before returning to the apartment with a bag full of groceries, painkillers and absolutely no intention of leaving the house again.
After a shower, you pulled on an oversized t-shirt, climbed into bed and put something mindless on the TV. You weren't really watching it. Your attention kept drifting back to your phone. In between doom scrolling TikTok, you kept flipping to your messages.
Nothing from Robby.
You told yourself it was normal since he was a couple of hours behind. He could still be asleep or hiking, he could be doing literally anything.
Still, your thumb hovered over the conversation and you found yourself thinking through parts of last night's call. Especially the end.
Would've been a shame.
You groaned and tossed the phone onto the bed beside you. "Get a grip."
The phone buzzed almost immediately.
You grabbed it so fast it was actually embarrassing.
Robby:
Morning
You:
afternoon actually
Robby:
Right
How's the hangover?
You:
presumptuous much?
Robby:
I'll take that as confirmation
You:
i’ve survived worse
Robby:
Doctor approved medical assessment
You:
exactly
The conversation stayed comfortably familiar at first. Small things, nothing important. What he'd done that morning and what you were doing now. The weather in Canada versus Pittsburgh. The coffee he'd burnt.
You laughed quietly at something he'd sent and snapped a quick picture in response.
Mostly intending to show him the disaster of snacks you'd surrounded yourself with on the bed.
You hit send before really looking at it.
A few moments passed, longer than usual. You frowned.
You:
???
The typing bubbles appeared.
Robby:
You know you're in that photo right?
You opened the image again. Your stomach immediately dropped.
Between the blankets and the snacks was a very obvious stretch of bare leg disappearing beneath the hem of your t-shirt. If you zoomed you could definitely see the edge of lace from your panties.
Heat crept into your cheeks.
You:
well
too late now
His reply took a little longer this time.
Robby:
Suppose it is
Something about the message felt different though you couldn't have explained why.
The conversation slowed. Not because either of you wanted it to end but because both of you seemed suddenly aware of it. Aware of each other.
You:
you're being weird
Robby:
I am not
You:
you absolutely are
Robby:
And what if I'm just thinking?
You:
dangerous
Robby:
That's rich coming from you
You laughed and the tension eased for a moment then returned just as quickly. The phone sat warm in your hand. Neither of you quite saying what was on your mind.
Both of you hovering suspiciously close to it.
Then-
A knock sounded at the apartment door. You sat upright.
"Oh for god's sake."
You:
one sec
Robby:
What?
You:
someones here
terrible timing honestly
Robby:
That sounds ominous
You:
don't go anywhere
Robby:
Wasn't planning on it
You tossed the phone onto the bed and headed for the door.
When you pulled it open, Abbot stood on the other side with two coffees in hand, looking entirely too pleased with himself.
"Jack?"
"Good afternoon."
You stared. He stared back.
"Why are you here?"
"Robby asked me to check the place hadn't burned down."
You folded your arms.
"And?"
Jack looked past you.
"Still standing."
By the time Abbot eventually left, the afternoon had slipped away with him. He'd actually brought you coffee because he was passing by, knew Robby cared about you and wanted to check in. Sweet actually.
Your conversation with Robby had fizzled into a couple of harmless messages before disappearing entirely which somehow felt worse. Because now you were thinking about it and judging by the phone call that arrived later that evening, so was he.
You answered on the second ring.
"Hello?"
"I can't believe you left me hanging like that."
You laughed immediately. "Excuse me?"
"We were having a conversation."
"Jack showed up at your apartment."
"And somehow that's my fault?"
"Everything's your fault."
His laugh crackled through the speaker.
"You know," he said, quieter this time, "I did actually spend the next few hours wondering what happened."
Your heart stumbled slightly.
"Yeah?"
"Yeah."
There was a pause. Comfortable but dangerous.
"Well," you said, settling deeper into the sofa. "Lucky for you, I'm free now."
The silence on the other end lasted just long enough to make your stomach flip. Then Robby laughed softly.
"Good."
The word settled somewhere low and God you hated that it did. Or maybe you loved it. Either way, you found yourself smiling into the darkness of the apartment.
"You sound very pleased with yourself."
"I am."
You laughed softly.
"Because I answered the phone?"
"Because I was beginning to think Abbot had kidnapped you."
"Trust me, if he'd kidnapped me, you'd know about it."
You eased into conversation again, tucking yourself deeper beneath the blanket, listening to him talk about a trail he'd found that morning. He was halfway through describing some impossible view over a lake when he suddenly stopped.
"Can I ask you something?"
You frowned. "Depends."
"That picture earlier."
Your pulse immediately betrayed you. "What about it?"
There was a pause. "Nothing."
You laughed. "That's not how questions work."
"I know."
"So?"
Another pause. You could practically hear him weighing his words.
"I just didn't realise you'd sent it like that."
Heat crept up your neck.
"Like what?"
"You know exactly what I mean."
Unfortunately, you did.
The worst part was how carefully he was speaking. How neither of you was actually saying anything and yet somehow both of you knew exactly what the other was talking about.
"It was an accident."
"I figured."
"You sound disappointed at that."
The silence that followed lasted a fraction too long. Your breath caught, just slightly. Then Robby laughed low and quiet.
"That's a dangerous thing to accuse me of."
You stared at the ceiling. Very aware of the oversized t-shirt you were still wearing and how your nipples were suddenly hard beneath it.
"I think you've become a lot more confident since Alberta."
"Oh yeah? Is that a bad thing?" he asked.
"No, it's kinda sexy actually." You laughed, so did he. Then a second passed and you felt the boldness creep in, so much so it decided your next move. "Do you want me to send another?"
You could practically hear Robby choke on his own breath and in the time he tried to get on top of his words, you'd pulled the blanket away, your phone up high with the front camera on, snapping a pic that showed a lot more than the last.
This time it was the bottom of your face, lips plump and pouty, your t-shirt tugged 'innocently' higher to give way to the band of your panties flashed across your hip. Your legs were crossed, not for the picture but to try and ease the now insatiable ache between them. As for your nipples? There was no denying they were the star of the show.
You sent it before thinking twice.
"Fuck." Robby breathed and you knew he was looking right at you.
"Is that better?"
You heard him take a deep breath and could imagine the blush on his cheeks. "You're gonna be the death of me."
You couldn't help but smile. His voice had gotten lower, a little huskier, almost like he was out of breath.
"Robby?"
"Yeah?" He breathed.
"What are we doing?"
He took a minute to answer. Not sure of what he should say, what he wanted to say. "I don't know." You couldn't see but he rubbed his face over his hand, coming to rest at the base of his neck. "I don't fucking know."
He was sat on the sofa at the cabin. The fire was going, lights dim and warm. Ever since you'd sent that first picture he'd been tight against his jeans but then you sent another and fuck, his hand came to adjust himself over the denim.
"But I'm not sure I can pretend I'm thinking of anything other than that picture right now."
You felt a little smug. That was, after all, why you sent it. It was so nice to feel sexy, for someone to be looking at you the way he was, someone you wanted to see you this way.
"Yeah? What you thinking about?" You knew what you were doing. Knew how it would draw the last breath out of him but you also knew you'd crossed a line and there was no going back. Not that you wanted to.
Your hands trailed over yourself, light touches over the cotton of your t-shirt. Your body jolted when finger tips ghosted the outline of a nipple, trailing left to pay the other as much attention. Fuck, it felt good.
Robby knew the pair of you were in dangerous territory but god, he wanted to be there. His head fell back in disbelief, as if he were mad at himself for what he was about to tell you over the phone.
His resident.
"You touching yourself in my apartment." He paused, waiting to see if he'd taken it too far only to hear a quiet moan from you in response. "Playing with yourself in the guest bedroom..."
"I am." Your hand snaked from your tits slowly to your panties, cupping yourself over the lace and that's when you felt it. "Fuck Robby I'm really wet…”
Jesus Christ. He felt himself jolt against his own hand, the one that was palming the growing outline of his cock.
"Fuck, baby. You're really trying to kill me huh?" He huffed a laugh, shaking his head in disbelief that this was happening. Almost three months of texts, phone calls, voice notes. A camera roll shared, bad days eased by mindless humour and companionship. A relationship built on all of that.
"You want me to go to your bed?" You almost panted down the line as you moved against your hand. "Fuck myself in your sheets?"
"Shit," He exhaled.
"You want that?"
"Yeah…" His reply was too fast and he cursed himself for it. But all he wanted was the image of you, two fingers deep, coming to his voice while soaking his bed spread. "Please baby, do it for me."
And with that, you got up. He heard rustling down the line as you made your way from the guest bed to Robby's. It wasn't a room you'd gone in much. You'd said you were going to snoop through his drawers, his closet just to be nosy but turns out you had too much respect for his privacy. That was months ago. Now you were crawling onto the bed, setting your phone on speaker next to you as you positioned yourself right in the middle.
Robby was waiting patiently. He'd done no more than rub himself a few times over his jeans, grinding a little into his hand but then knowing it'd be too much and he'd end up blowing his load like a teenager. Instead, he waited. For you. To enjoy you.
You laid your head back against his pillows, inhaling him as if he were right next to you. "Mmm, smells like you in here." You said quietly. "It's like you're here."
He wished he was there. You did too. Wished it was his fingers swiping through your wetness, dipping into your panties and feeling how worked up you'd got from sending him one (not even) dirty photo.
"Tell me what you're doing." It felt like an order even though it wasn't and your pussy jumped at the idea. "Wanna hear you."
"Fuck. 'M rubbing myself over my panties." You whispered lightly. "Wanna take them off."
"Take them off baby." He'd hoped you'd throw them to the side and forget, only for him to find them on his return. "Spread your legs, let me hear."
It'd be hard for him not to hear with how soaked you were.
It was amazing how one phone conversation and suddenly this is how you found yourself, legs open for Michael Robinavitch.
With your panties gone, you anchored your legs apart. Fingers sliding through your dripping slit, gathering your arousal to swirl it in tight circles around your clit. The slick sounds filled the room, they filled the cabin too.
Robby couldn't take it anymore. You heard the sound of metal, a belt unbuckling before a zip slid down in haste. He freed himself, pulling his cock from his boxers, thick and hard. He was leaking from the tip, all red and worked up just from listening to you. It felt so fucking good when he finally stroked himself.
"Oh fuck." He tried to bite it back, failing miserably.
That was music to your ears.
"You hard for me Robby?"
"You have no idea. Feels so fuckin good, thinking about you." He fucked his fist nice and slow, wanting this to last and despite his cock not being inside you, he wanted you to cum first.
You decide it wasn't enough. After all this time, the calls and the pictures, you needed to see him. And you wanted him to see you.
"Wanna see you." You picked up your phone, hand still working your pussy. "Can I face- face time you?" Your words faltered a little as your fingers sped up, rubbing your sensitive clit.
Robby froze for a second. He'd got this worked up just by thinking of you in such a state and now, you were actually going to show him?
"Mhmm, yeah."
And within a second you'd pressed the button the change this to a video call. When he accepted, he saw the dark room lit by a single bedside lamp. You'd slowed your motions for a second, to pick up the phone properly and see him for the first time in months.
"Hey." You smiled, like it didn't matter what the pair of you had been doing just seconds ago. You were so happy to see his face. The slight tan he'd caught, his greyed out beard and stubble around the neck.
"Hey." He couldn't help but smile too. Knowing your hands were down your pants but not being able to get past the heat in your cheeks, how your hair had fallen across the bed and despite stating you had a hangover, you were fucking glowing.
He pondered it for a second, how he might have not noticed this before. The way your eyes narrowed when you smiled, how you looked at him.
"You look beautiful."
That might have turned you on more than anything in the last fifteen minutes. You were breathless, a little wrecked, in disbelief at any of this.
Then you set the phone down on the bedside table to free up your hands. That's when you pulled off the t-shirt entirely, leaving your perfect tits in plain view for Robby to see.
His eyes grew wide as he surveyed every inch of your skin before you laid back into the cushions as you were before, shifting to your side facing the phone.
"Is this what you were thinking about?" You snaked your hand back down to your cunt, dipping in but not all the way, just enough for Robby to hear the slick mess.
"Even better." His hand slowly started to work on himself again, matching your rhythm as he held the phone in front of him.
Your mouth parted when you finally sank a finger inside, then another. Two digits curled deep in your pussy, rolling your hips against them and you never took your eyes off him.
"Fuck Robby." You sped your motions a little, so did he. "Wish it was your fingers, wish it was you inside me."
You weren't sure where it came from. The filthy tongue, the boldness. You weren't shy in bed but he was your boss. The boss you were innocently house sitting for until you decided to get attached.
"Christ." He bit back a moan at your obscenity. "Imagine it's me baby." He started fucking his fist faster, wishing it was your pussy. "Imagine it's my cock deep inside you, I'd fuck you so good, make you feel so fucking good."
It dropped from his tongue with little effort. He thought about how much he wanted to be buried inside you, how he'd wanted that for a while and was too scared to admit it.
"Mmmph Robbyyyy." You whined his name, breathing hard, riding your fingers as you felt the coil tighten in your belly. "Let me see you."
He did the same as you, positioning the phone on the side table that sat at the same height as the sofa. It left him in view from the waist up, free hand roaming his covered chest, the other pumping his cock hard.
You watched him intently. Heard the sounds of precum slickening his strokes as his hips drove up with every beat.
"Fuck I'm close-” You worked yourself with both hands, two buried to the knuckle and the other rubbing your clit with such ferocity. "Really fucking close Robby I think I'm gonna cum soon."
"Cum for me angel, let me see. Such a good girl."
Your hands worked even faster and suddenly, the coil snapped with words of praise and you were coming in Robby's bed.
"Oh my god oh my-” Then silence, your body went rigid as you clamped your hands hard, riding out the most intense orgasm you'd had in years.
You were a sight for sore eyes. Mouth wide open, tits bouncing with every movement and all it took was your guttoral moans for Robby to feel himself close to the edge too. He was fucking himself so hard and fast, it was almost a blur on screen until you heard him pant, a strangled "Uh uh uh" and then-
"I'm gonna cum baby oh fuck-”
You watched him spill his load all over his hand. Thick white ropes dripped down his knuckles, marking his jeans as he stroked himself through it, twitching at his now very sensitive cockhead.
You were both left breathless and sweaty, each reaching for your respective phones.
"You-” He was trying so hard to catch his breath. "-are something else."
You both laughed breathlessly. Fuck, this felt good.
You stayed on the phone for hours after until he ordered you to bed. Told you to sleep well, that he'd be thinking of you.
And that night was the best sleep of your life.
-
Everything felt different after that night except it also all stayed the same.
You spoke every day. Called most nights, FaceTimed, voice noted when you were cooking dinner or carrying groceries. But now it seemed like nothing was left unsaid, that you were both being honest with each other. It was amazing.
The only thing eating away at you right before you fell asleep was the idea this might end. When the three weeks crept closer, when the sabbatical would end. Would everything go back to how it was before?
"Hey can I ask you something?" You broke mid conversation.
"Anything."
"When this is over. Your sabbatical I mean. When you come back and I'm not here." You trailed off slightly. "...Will this all go away?"
There was silence on the line for a second.
"Not if I have anything to do with it."
Your smile reached your ears. Good because-” You inhaled deeply. "I don't think I can go back."
-
You worked like a dog over the next four days.
At one point you'd even picked up a double because Lena had practically begged for night shift cover, and despite every intention of saying no, somehow you'd found yourself agreeing anyway.
It meant you barely saw daylight all week and you didn't get to speak to Robby much either. Not in the way either of you would've liked.
You checked in between shifts, during breaks and whenever you made it home with enough energy to keep your eyes open. He'd send the occasional text during the day, but most of your conversations happened at night. Sometimes a quick call, sometimes longer if exhaustion didn't drag you under first.
It was a brutal four days. By the end of it you were running almost entirely on caffeine and stubbornness, convinced you'd briefly developed double vision somewhere around shift three.
When you finally crawled into bed at the end of it all, you slept hard.
Since your FaceTime call, you hadn't stepped foot in the guest room. Every night you ended up in Robby's bed instead, tangled in his sheets and surrounded by things that smelled faintly like him.
He loved knowing that.
Day five arrived with something close to actual rest. You woke around nine and, for the first time all week, didn't feel like death.
After a shower you made coffee, pulled on some loungewear that wasn't technically pyjamas and settled onto the sofa with every intention of finally finishing the book you'd started at the beginning of all this.
You'd texted Robby before getting in the shower. There was still no reply. You assumed he was asleep or hiking or somewhere without signal. Either way, you weren't worried.
Twenty-five minutes later there was a knock at the door. You sighed immediately.
It had to be Jack.
Apparently nobody trusted you to spend three months in an apartment unsupervised.
Already preparing your speech, you marched towards the door and pulled it open.
The words died in your throat.
"Robby."
For a second your brain simply stopped working. Because Robby was supposed to be in Canada. Robby was supposed to be another two thousand miles away. Robby was supposed to be a voice coming through your phone speaker. Not standing in front of you.
"Hey."
His smile spread slowly across his face, tired and genuine all at once. His cheeks were pink from the road and his eyes looked glassy around the edges, like he'd spent too many hours behind the handlebars and not nearly enough sleeping.
You stared. "What are you doing here?"
He laughed softly. "Good to see you too."
"No, seriously." You gestured vaguely at him and the doorway. What are you doing here? You were in Canada. That's like-" Your brain searched desperately for a number. "It's like five thousand miles."
"Not quite."
"Robby-”
He kissed you.
Just stepped across the threshold and kissed you.
His hands came up to cup your face as he guided you backwards into the apartment, the front door swinging shut somewhere behind him.
Every thought disappeared. All the questions and confusion, gone.
Because he was here, after months of messages and phone calls and hearing his voice through a screen, he was finally here. The last four days worked in his favour, you being so busy. He'd hit the road almost immediately, covering far too much mileage to be considered safe. All to make it back to you.
You kissed him back immediately, both hungry and relieved. Like you were making up for every mile that had sat between Alberta and Pittsburgh.
When he finally pulled away, it was only far enough to look at you, forehead resting against yours.
"Two and a half thousand miles," he corrected quietly.
You laughed.
For a moment neither of you spoke.
"You know," you murmured, fingers still wrapped around his wrists, "this is a very dramatic way to get your keys back."
Robby laughed, the sound warm and familiar.
"Yeah?"
"Yeah."
His thumbs swept across your cheeks.
“Good thing I never came back for the keys”
Your heart squeezed.
And this time, when you kissed him, neither of you had anywhere else to be.
WHAT 2 year and 7k follower celebration event!
WHEN june 7 - june 13
TAGS #mariassummerinsantorini & #mariaversegetaway
THE EMAIL ❀ PASSPORTS ❀ PLAYLIST ❀ MAIN EVENT POST ❀ LET THE GODS DECIDE YOUR FATE ❀ MOODBOARD
DAILY DOSE OF VITAMIN SEA
sunday ❀ airbnb listing - day 1 recap
monday ❀ what's in your suitcase? - day 2 recap
tuesday ❀ which pitt character do you hook up with on vacay?
wednesday ❀ drunk texts
thursday ❀ build your drink
friday ❀ greek mythology match up
saturday ❀ rate my fit
UNPLANNED PIT(T) STOPS
airbnb rules
flight seat assignments leaked
claim your boarding pass
passport stamp reblogs
DRABBLES
— REBLOGS KEEP FANDOM ALIVE —
𖤓 fluff 𖦹 angst 𓇼 smut
MICHAEL ROBINAVITCH
𓇼 WATERMELON SUGAR robby makes eating watermelon look indecently seductive, and you’re convinced he’s torturing you on purpose.
𖤓 HELIOPHILIA one flimsy bikini, twelve ignored sun lectures, and robby decides to turn preventative medicine into a hands-on experience
𖤓𖦹 PHTHONUS during a midnight swim, robby watches you laughing in the water with whitaker and realizes just how ugly his jealousy can get.
FRANK LANGDON
𖤓 STRINGS ATTACHED (SOMETIMES) during a beach volleyball match, a wardrobe malfunction forces frank into an awkward rescue
𓇼 GUILTY PLEASURE you hook up with frank while his girlfriend is upstairs and the line between pleasure and guilt gets very blurry, very fast.
𖤓 GOOD AS NEW frank tries to impress you with a stolen rental scooter. it goes about as well as expected. at least he helps take care of the damage.
𖤓 BRACHYURA langdon discovers your weakness: being correct. you discover his: needing to argue with you about it
𖤓 MRS. LANGDON HAS A RING TO IT after a swim leaves your hair tangled, frank ends up helping you brush it in the bathroom.
𖤓 IF SELENE IS LISTENING frank coaxes an overtired tired, tipsy you into his lap and takes over the job of being your caretaker
JACK ABBOT
𖤓 DIAMOND CUT after your engagement ring causes a small injury, you seek comfort from your favorite doctor
𓇼 A VERY PUBLIC OFFERING you and jack finally get a second alone on vacation, so he bends you over the balcony and fucks you while everyone else drinks downstairs.
𖤓 HERODEON you set out to explore athens alone, only to end up with an uninvited travel companion
𖤓 RAIN ON BLUE STONE you get caught in a sudden rainstorm with jack
𖤓 TIGER SHARKS you lose your bikini top and decide to use jack as a human shield
𖤓 ANDROMEDA the girls keep trying to set you up on vacation. that is, until they find the senior attending in your bed and realize why you keep shutting them down
𖤓 LITTLE MISS PRIM-AND-PROPER when the crew discovers your secret tramp stamp, jack accidentally reveals he knows far more about it than he should
𖤓 MERLOT ON GRAY COTTON when your suitcase gets lost on the way to greece, jack abbot lends you clothes to get by. between nosy coworkers, spilled wine, and jack's teasing, the situation becomes much harder to survive than it should be.
𖤓 MISSED OPPORTUNITIES you're oblivious; jack's permanently flirting. turns out all you needed was a nudge (and a kiss).
𖤓 SISTINE CHAPEL you are trying to read on the beach. jack abbot is nearby shirtless. this proves to be a problem.
𖤓 VACAY-YOU on vacation abbot realizes the version of you from the er isn't the only one that exists
You’ve done reader and uncle!robby getting caught by reader’s dad
You’ve done reader and uncle!robby getting caught by reader’s mom
I think it’s time for reader’s boyfriend to walk on reader and Robby; maybe if they’re in position that reader always refused to do with her boyfriend.
(you can make it more disgusting if it’s step dad!robby)
hear me out hear me out!!!! boyfriend’s dad!robby getting caught with reader by his son!?!?!?!
walk with me…
getting caught with boyfriend's dad!robby (f!reader)
wc: 3.9k (whoops)
warnings/tags: smut. mdni. cheating!! age gap (unspecified but there), oral (m! and f!), unprotected piv, creampie, angst i guess but not really??, getting caught having sex, comfort at the end. f!reader. daddy kink.
you and your boyfriend had been together for a couple of months, you met at work and he’d been begging you to go on a date with him since your first day. you turned him down probably 100 times before saying yes, remembering everyone’s advice about never dating your co-workers. but he was nice and seemed somewhat normal so eventually you agreed.
the date was okay, nothing to write home about but it wasn’t terrible so you agreed to another, and then another until he asked you to be his girlfriend. you weren’t in love with him per say, but you thought maybe you could be, could end up falling in love with him some point down the line…
that was until you met his very handsome father.
it was your boyfriend’s birthday so you ended up travelling to his home town of pittsburgh to meet his parents to spend the weekend with them. given the fact that you weren’t really that invested in your relationship yet you weren’t exactly nervous about meeting his parents, until you stepped into the arrivals terminal at the airport and saw the very handsome older man who you assumed to be his father.
taking in his tall, broad frame and his greying hair and aged features your breathing got caught in your throat and you silently hoped that he wasn’t in fact your boyfriends dad. but as your boyfriend waved at the couple and they waved back that hope was shattered.
“oh! my sweet boy! i missed you sooo much!!” the older woman who you presumed to be your boyfriend’s mom cooed as she wrapped him up in her arms, peppering the top of his head with kisses.
you stood awkwardly behind, gripping the handle of your suitcase until your knuckles turned white as you took a closer look at his hot dad. noting the way the skin by his eyes crinkled as he smiled at his son, and then the way his cheeks flushed an unmistakable shade of pink when his eyes finally landed on you.
you looked away, staring awkwardly at the floor when his eyes met yours. you had felt it then, a jolt of heat that rolled through your body when his eyes lingered just a little bit too long on your own. fuck.
“mom. dad. this is my girlfriend…” he introduces you by name and you could’ve sworn you saw a little bit of light die behind his mother’s eyes when he used the word girlfriend. but she smiled sweetly at you anyway, whether it was genuine or not, you didn’t really care.
“it’s nice to meet you” she smiles, notably not extending her hand out for you to shake or really acknowledging you in anyway but by word.
“you too!” you extend your own fake smile before your eyes land back on his dad, who was offering you a real genuine smile. it was shy, small and his cheeks grew a darker shade of red when you returned the same smile. heat pooled low in your belly at that and subconsciously you pressed your thighs together.
“hey, i’m michael but everyone calls me robby” he extends his hand for you to shake, you take it and you swear you felt a spark as your hands met and the way he immediately looked away from you told you he felt it too.
“hi, robby” he’s so much taller than you that you have to look up at him, your eyes all big and round as you peer at him through your lashes. a small smile creeps up on your face and you feel your own cheeks getting hotter by the second.
you don’t say much during the ride back from the airport, you can barely get a word in anyway as your boyfriends mom asks him all sorts of questions about how he’s been since she last saw him. so you just sit there in the back of the car, fiddling with your hands awkwardly in the back making eye contact with robby in the rear view mirror every so often. he looks away immediately every time but two seconds later he’s looking again, like he can’t stop even if he wanted to.
that first night at his parent’s home is pretty uneventful it was late when you got in after dinner so you headed straight to bed. you couldn’t sleep, your mind full of thoughts of robby as your boyfriend held you close to his chest you felt sick as you wished it was his dad instead.
it took ages for you to fall asleep and when you woke up around 10am the next morning your boyfriend wasn’t in bed beside you anymore. you threw on some pajama shorts and a loose tank top and went downstairs to look for him but you only found robby sat at the kitchen table reading something on his phone.
“morning..” you announce your presence in the room and robby jumps at the sound of your voice, his head snapping to where you stand in the doorway. his eyes scan your body, taking in the way your tits move in your loose top as your chest heaves from the effort of your breathing. then he’s taking in your legs, how they’re pressed together slightly as you shift on the balls of your feet and how your tiny pajama shorts cup the plump mound of your pussy so obviously.
“hi..” he breathes out, not realising he’d been holding said breath since he laid his eyes on you.
“where is everyone?” you ask, finally stepping into the kitchen and pulling out the chair closest to robby. he watches intently as you sit, appreciating the way your thighs fill out as they press against the wood of the chair, making the v shape of your pussy in your shorts more noticeable.
his eyes don’t leave your crotch the whole time, unashamedly staring as he asks, “who..?” you giggle at that, at the way he’s so stuck on you and your body that he forgot all about his wife and son.
“your wife? your son? my boyfriend?”
that snaps him back to life, his eyes finally leaving your legs and meeting your eyes. pink flushes your cheeks again just as it did back in the airport. “oh they went out for breakfast, some silly birthday tradition they’ve had since he was a kid”
you nod, tugging your bottom lip between your teeth as you look robby up and down. he looked so good in his plaid pajama pants and white t-shirt that was a little too tight on him, hugging his soft tummy and big arms in all the right ways.
robby offers you a drink then which you accept, your eyes trained on him as he moves around the kitchen. you spend a little while chatting over glasses of orange juice, giggling at all his jokes and listening intently as he tells you about himself, his job at the ed and just anything that comes to mind. all the while he’s devouring you with his eyes, it’s somehow so casual and intense at the same time. your thighs burn from how hard you’re pressing them together under his gaze.
he asks you questions about yourself too, smiling and nodding along when you answer them. it honestly felt like a first date, and you were feeling a lot more than on any date with your actual boyfriend.
who speaking of which came home soon after with his mom, interrupting yours and robby’s little kitchen moment. your boyfriend comes over and kisses the top of your head, you want to pull away but force yourself not to and you wish him happy birthday. his mother looks you up and down in something that resembles disgust, obviously not impressed with your revealing outfit, unlike her husband. her husband who was now looking anywhere but at you.
the rest of the day is spent at home celebrating your boyfriend’s birthday, opening presents and enjoying drinks with a couple more close family members. you mostly stay out of the way, sitting on the patio with robby as everyone fusses over the birthday boy by the backyard pool.
you’d changed into a white string bikini earlier much to your boyfriend’s mom’s dismay and robby’s delight, only covered by an almost sheer cover up tied around your waist and just like this morning robby’s eyes were all over you.
you’d spent the better part of the last hour teasing him, pushing your chest out purposefully when he looked, leaning over him further than necessary to talk over the music playing on the speakers, placing your hand on his bicep to stabilise yourself when you did so. and it was working, there’d been a somewhat noticeable bulge in robby’s shorts for some time now, which he hoped you hadn’t noticed but obviously you had.
you wanted him so bad, so much so that it was getting harder and harder not to just jump on him and take him for all he had right there on the patio. and when he laughed at something you said and placed his hand on the top of your thigh, it only got harder. you looked around to check if anyone was watching but they were all too busy with your boyfriend, who you imagine had forgotten you were even there. so you placed your hand over his and brought it up higher, his long fingers slipping on the inside, grazing your pussy over your bikini bottoms.
robby sucks in a harsh breath, his eyes snapping to yours, his pupils were already blown wide. “not here..” he whispers, removing his hand from your leg.
“where then?” you ask, biting your lip and giving him your best doe-eyed look.
he looks around and thinks for a second before grabbing his drink and tipping it over you. he shoves the drink into your hand before you can even let out a gasp. everyone turns to look at you then. robby takes the drink from your hand and places it down on the table next to him before standing up and helping you up too.
“come on, let’s get you cleaned up” he’s pushing you forwards now with one hand on your back as he guides you back into the house and up the stairs, pulling you into his bedroom and clicking the door shut behind him.
as soon as you’re in the room he’s spinning you around and pushing you up against the wall. his lips are on yours in seconds, taking your mouth in a hot, wet kiss. it’s messy and possessive, he’s forcing his tongue in your mouth and you can’t help but moan into his as he literally takes your breath away. his hands are all over you, grabbing and squeezing every single inch of your skin.
he pulls away after a minute to let you catch your breath, his eyes are so dark, almost fully black now as he looks down at you with an intensity unlike anything you’ve experienced before.
“fuck, this is bad” robby pants, reaching his hand around your back and pulling the string of your bikini top open. his lips are on your collarbone then, kissing across it and down the soft swell of your breasts until your nipple is in his mouth.
you gasp, your hands fly to the back of his head, gripping his hair tight as he swirls his tongue around your hardened nipple, suckling it softly in his mouth.
“i know..so bad” you whine, your hips involuntarily bucking forward into his, grinding your clothed cunt against the prominent erection in his shorts.
“we shouldn’t be doing this” he says as he pulls off your nipple before giving the other the same attention.
“i know” you moan, reaching one of your hands down between your bodies to grab his cock over his pants, giving it a gentle squeeze that has robby groaning around your breast.
“so tell me to stop” he’s sinking to his knees now, his hands already untying the strings on your hips, your bottoms falling to the floor by your feet.
you shake your head, “don’t you fucking dare.”
you part your legs for him and his tongue finds your clit in seconds, his big dark eyes trained on yours as he eats your cunt like a starved man. he’s pushing his face into you, his nose brushing against your clit as his tongue teases your dripping hole, swallowing every taste of you that hits his tongue.
your hands are in his hair again, holding him tight against you as you grind your hips against his face. robby lets out a deep, guttural groan and his eyes roll back from the pleasure of you using his mouth to get yourself off.
that familiar heat builds up in your stomach fast, your thighs clench against robby’s face signalling to him that you’re close so he takes two fingers and pushes them against your entrance before shoving them in. he doesn’t even need to lube them up, you’re soaked, your own arousal dripping down your legs as you come undone on his face.
“fuck– oh my god, ‘m gonna– shit, robby just like that– please” he curls his fingers against that spot inside of you and suddenly you’re seeing stars behind your closed eyes and your body shakes as your orgasm crashes over you. robby holds you up against the wall with one hand, the other still pumping inside of you working you through your high.
your breathing is ragged as you come down, your knees buckle beneath you as you look down to see robby cleaning you up with his mouth, his beard shiny with your arousal.
“feelin’ better, sweetheart?” robby coos as he straightens back up, cradling the side of your face with his large hand, wiping away a stray tear that had fallen during your orgasm.
you nod, your eyes glassy and a hazy smile lines your lips as you mumble, “mhmm– yes. thank you.”
you lean up on your tippy toes and kiss his cheek, tasting yourself in his beard, he smiles at that. but the smile fades as his lips part when your hand strokes his cock over his pants again and then you’re the one sinking to your knees. you pop open the button of his shorts, your fingers shake slightly as you pull down the zipper and then again when you’re hooking them under the waistband of both his shorts and boxer briefs, pulling them down to free his achingly hard cock.
he’s big, not huge but much bigger than his son you note as you wrap a soft hand around his girth, bringing his flushed tip to your lips and giving it a small lick. robby hisses, stumbling forward he holds himself up with one hand on the wall as the other comes down to grab a fistful of your hair.
“you don’t have to do this if you don’t want to, we can go back downstairs–” robby starts, getting cut off by another lick to the underside of his head. you furrow your brows as you look up at him, tapping his cock against your tongue.
“i just don’t want you to feel like you have to just because i ate you out, you know? i know women don’t like to do this”
you raise an eyebrow at him, “is that what your wife tells you?”
robby nods, swallowing thickly as you press a kiss against his tip.
“you poor thing. your wife not taking care of you? don’t worry, i’m here now.” you smirk before finally wrapping your lips around him, sinking onto him halfway, swirling your tongue around the length of him, tracing every ridge with your tongue.
robby shudders, his knuckles turning white against the wall from the effort of keeping himself up as you suck on his cock like you were made for it. his hand in your hair tightens, trying so hard not to force you the rest of the way down.
“shit– feels so fucking good. almost forgot how- fuck- good this felt” he groans, his head lulling forwards, his eyes fixed on yours as you look up at him through your lashes with your mouth stuffed full of his cock. the sight of that alone would be enough to make robby cum, but he holds on.
“want to be inside you so fucking bad. bet that pretty little pussy of yours is so tight. shit– need that so fucking bad” he’s pulling you off of him now, you release his cock from your mouth with a wet pop and a pout.
“but i wanna-” you go to take him again but he yanks your head back.
“don’t have time, need to feel inside of you before someone comes looking for us. please, sweetheart” he’s begging with his eyes which you just can’t say no to.
“only if you promise i get to finish what i started later”
“of course, you can do that again whenever you want” robby huffs out a laugh as he takes your hand and pulls you over to his bed. you climb on and lay down in the middle. he’s on you in seconds, settling between your open legs not wasting any more time.
he pulls your legs up over his hips and lines himself up at your entrance, swiping his cock through your glistening folds a few times before sinking in with a deep groan. he falls forwards, his hands land either side of your head as the warmth of your tight cunt consumes him.
“oh fuck–that’s it. shit. so fucking tight” he presses his forehead against yours as he looks down to where your bodies meet, watching as he thrusts slowly, savouring the feeling.
you wrap your legs around his waist, pulling your lower half up to meet his thrusts, needing more than the gentle roll of his hips that he’s giving you.
and as if robby senses your neediness he speeds up, his hips meeting yours with a lewd slap, his balls hitting your ass on every hard thrust. he’s groaning wildly now, almost as if he’s forgotten where he is and what’s he’s doing. like he’s not fucking his son’s girlfriend in the bed that he and his wife share while they’re all outside celebrating his son’s birthday.
you’re moaning too, loud. you try and hold it back but with each thrust robby’s cock punches your cervix and pushes another loud moan out of your throat. it’s obscene, the mix of your pleasured moans and the sound of skin slapping fills the room.
“fuck, yes. fuck, you feel incredible– so fucking pretty, baby.” robby strokes the side of your face, looking deep into your eyes. you turn your face to the side and take his thumb into your mouth, wrapping your lips around it and sucking.
his hips stutter at that, “such a dirty girl, sucking on your boyfriend’s dad’s thumb while he ruins your pretty little pussy. you like that? like daddy splitting your tight little cunt open on his big cock?”
you moan around his thumb, “yes. fuck yes. love daddy’s cock stretching my little pussy. feels so fucking good, daddy. thank you”
and that’s when you hear it. the sound of the bedroom door swinging open. robby hears it to but he doesn’t stop his efforts, he’s too lost in the moment to even think about stopping.
you turn your head releasing robby’s thumb from your mouth. it’s your boyfriend, robby’s son stood in the doorway with his eyes wide and jaw practically on the floor.
you turn away immediately, burying your face in robby’s neck, robby who hasn’t even bothered to look up yet.
“i’m sorry, fuck– i’m sorry” you cry out between moans. now this is obscene, getting fucked by your boyfriend’s dad while he watches in pure horror.
“dad, what the fuck!?” he finally says, still not moving from his spot in the door.
“shit– i’m sorry son, i– oh fuck, i’m…s-sorry” robby’s pace falters. he wants to stop, knows he should, he keeps telling himself to stop but his body just won’t listen and to his deepest shame he slams into you with a couple more sloppy thrusts as his orgasm crashes through him.
your hand flies up to cover your mouth as you feel robby spill inside of you, filling you up with his thick release as his son watches on. you want to cry, shame and embarrassment washing over you in between the waves of pleasure from robby’s movements between your legs.
“you’re fucking sick, dad!” and with that he turns and leaves, no doubt running to mommy to tell her what he just saw.
robby collapses on top of you then, breathing laboured as he comes down from his high. he doesn’t say anything for a minute and neither do you. what even is there to say after that? so you just lay there with robby onto top of you, feeling like the worst person in the world.
“god, i’m so fucked” robby sighs after a minute, rolling off of you he drags his hands down his face.
“yeah..i don’t think there’s any coming back from this” you turn to face him, placing what’s supposed to be a comforting hand on his chest but it just feels stupid after everything. there’s no making this better, no fixing this.
“you think? god, he’s never going to talk to me again”
“no..probably not” you frown, nuzzling your face into his neck. he wraps an arm around you, neither of you care that the door is still open, it’s not like this situation could actually get any worse. the damage has already been done.
it’s safe to say that your relationship was pretty much over after that. you didn’t care to stay around for the fallout, you just packed your bag and got yourself a ride to a nearby hotel where you stayed until your flight home the next day.
a couple of days passed and you hadn’t heard a word from your boyfriend, not that you were surprised by that. you’re sat on your couch watching tv late at night when you hear a knock at your front door. you check the time on your phone, 3 am. you go to answer it thinking maybe your boyfriend had come home and wanted to talk about what happened but to your surprise robby is standing there on your porch, his bike helmet in one hand, a bag in his other.
you don’t say anything yet, just open the door wider to let him in. he steps in and drops his belongings on your floor. you offer your open arms for him and he falls into them almost knocking you over with his weight in the process.
“so…i take it you need a place to stay?” you huff a laugh after a long minute, it comes out sad though. you really did feel bad about blowing up robby’s whole life like that.
he takes in a deep breath before sighing, “yeah, if you’ll have me?”
you smile at that, “of course, i’d love nothing more”
he pulls away after another minute, you close the door behind him and take his hand leading him back to the couch where you resume your earlier position, though this time you have robby curled up by your side. you place your hand in his hair, stroking softly as you watch tv together like it’s the most normal thing in the world.
like this is how it was always supposed to be.
and you did it at my birthday dinner!!
this is a looooooong one! hope it’s okay! didn’t really plan how they were going to get caught or what was going to happen so i kind of just winged it, hope it was okay!! <333
also don’t ask how he knows where she lives…this is fanfiction ok it doesn’t have to make sense
want to be added to my robby taglist .ᐣ reply to this post ᝰ.ᐟ (taglist is tagged from another acc)
Happilymarried!Pope who makes everything a onesided competition on who treats their wife best. He just wants to brag how he kisses the ground u walk on because how are they criminals but Cath has to work at a bar??? Uh uh not Pope's wife, she's lapping up the sun by the pool in their house or busy spending his money around, not a care in the damn world hair done nails done in a cute lil car...his card has never graced the leather of his wallet cause its always in her purse
oh my gosh yes, absolutely. oh he's so husband ohhhh i'm sick!! i especially love this with ditzy, bimbo!reader <3 i got a little carried away but it's andrew so it fits! :)
everyone's at the house waiting for dinner to be made, just standing around and chatting. it's hot, bordering on nauseating humidity, and all andrew wants to do is see his pretty wife before dinner. he needs alone time, quiet time in his old room to just sit and gaze at you as you chatter.
but now? andrew's engaged in a mindless conversation with craig, hearing him drone on about his latest hook-up while he stands with his hands on his hips nervously. you're due at smurf's house at any minute, a promise you made as you laid out on the beachfront of your home, waving at andrew as he got in his truck to meet up with the boys earlier that day.
he couldn't stop himself from kissing you. he was 15 minutes late. big fuckin' deal. andrew's family knew he needed his "you time".
deran's cooking tonight, much to pope's chagrin, and the cody's are all a bit anxious to eat the food. "oh no i literally have the pizza place down the block on speed dial" j expresses in between sips of his beer, before deran angrily chimes in from inside the house "jokes on you, dickhead, i catered."
baz sits on a lounger with cath, holding her to his side as he talks to j about an upcoming job. she's sticky with bar-soda stains and exhausted with the sheer movement of a work ethic. staring down at her ring, she runs her thumb over the diamond, wondering how life could've been different. her eyes flicker over to the oldest cody, and she can remember a time when she'd always find him looking back at her. but that hasn't happened in a long time. her shoulders crack with resignation and envy.
a horn honking, a happy squeal from the driveway, and andrew's straightening up his miserable stance. the thick gummy sole of his jordans rub against the concrete as he, quite literally, walks away from craig mid conversation. "bro-" craig shrugs, turning to look at baz in confusion as baz smiles "his girls home bro, you lost him the second the tires pulled in the driveway." craig stomps into the house, but he's not really angry, never could be at pope, "fucker has super hearing, man"
andrew walks to the driveway, shoulders losing their hunch the closer he gets to your bubblegum pop music and toothy smile. it's hard for andrew to smile, he'd often tell you, late in the dark of your bedroom, "'it's like it hurts a bit. hurts my face, i guess" but right now? his smile is beaming; crooked, endearing teeth on display with a light flush. it's probably because his brothers are inside, he never liked smiling with his teeth before you.
"andy!!" you cheer, wide smile and bouncing in lightly between your left and right foot. andrew doesn't even slow his steps, just keeps trudging towards you until you're in his arms. one big hand hooked behind your head for a long, sloppy kiss. waaaay too much of a display for normal public settings. his breath hitches as your hands drag under his t-shirt, nails lightly scraping his sides.
breathing in through his nose, andrew pulls back to look down his nose at you, "missed you. where you been? how was shopping?" "good! really good andy, wanna see?" "later. lemme get a feel for you. missed you so much" with more kisses to your cheeks as he pushes the hair away from your eyes <3
when you go into the yard, you're smiling and waving at the cody's as you hang onto andrew's arm. your ring glistening in the reflection of the pool, cath can't help but swallow bitterly. andrew trails next to you, head fully turned to listen to you rant and rave about the latest sales and the cute clothing you bought for yourself and him. he looks like he could and would eat you whole at the nearest convenience. it's been years, and he still looks at you the same way.
at dinner, you sit on andrew's lap, legs swinging as you bring the fork to his mouth. craig can barely look but deran smiles into his food; it's nice to see pope happy (even if it is gross to witness at dinner). when his iced tea needs to be refilled, you lean forward over the table, his hand resting on the side of your ass to stabilize you. he's not comfy until the weight of his pretty wife is resting on his thighs.
later that night, when you are all cozy and chatting on the couch, you lift your feet into andrew's lap. he doesn't even bat an eye, moving like it's routine.... because it is. slipping off your lil platform flip flops, starting with a massage at your ankle, andrew massages your foot lovingly as he watches the conversations around him. "'s that good?" he speaks lowly to you, and you nod excitedly.
it's almost torture for cath to watch. she was on her feet for probably 9 hours today, and here you are: shiny toe ring, perfectly, freshly manicured toes. begging andrew for a massage, "think i twisted it after i ran out of victoria's secret." his voice sounds alien to her "'s no good baby, gotta watch your step, we talked about this" soooo husbandly and earnest.
that ask put chubby!robby on my mind again (gn!reader)
Robby who is aware that he's a big guy, and while he tries not to beat himself up about it too much, he can't help it. He's in his fifties now, and with his age comes the knowledge that he just won't ever drop this stubborn belly of his.
Which is fine. He's fine about it. He doesn't get insecure or a little envious when a patient asks Jack about his workout routine. And he definitely doesn't blame his singleness on the softness that clings to his figure at every angle. Robby does none of those things because he's fine being a little fat.
So, maybe he's a little surprised when you, his sweet neighbor from two doors down, come knocking on his door one evening with an empty measuring cup and a nervous smile.
Flour, you claimed to have needed, but when Robby invites you inside, the measuring cup is quickly abandoned in favor of talking his ear off. Even when Robby's provided your fill of flour, you stay, leaning against the counter as you ask questions and then questions about his answers.
Finally, though, when you ask his opinion on thermonuclear reactors, Robby puts his foot down. As politely as he can, Robby explains that he has work in the morning and really must insist that you return home.
It's then that you blurt out, "Would you be interested in dinner with me? A date?"
A stunned silence falls between you two. Robby is only to shake himself out of pure shock to answer when he sees your eyes widen in panic.
"Yes," Robby says, because any other answer would be stupid. You're kind, interesting, and attractive. Apparently, you're also enough of a sucker to think that Robby of all people is a catch.
But, surprisingly, Robby isn't thinking too much about that as he watches your short walk home. Rather, his mind is kind to him, floundering on only one thought.
You had met Robby at a slimy, run-down bar in the middle of nowhere, Pennsylvania. At the time, you thought he was like all the other bikers that came in, rough and loud and just loved to come in and flirt with the pretty young bartender who was only there because she had to be. But Robby was different. He was handsome and respectful, and only ordered two drinks before settling on water for the rest of the night. At first, he didn’t talk much, but as the night went on, and you flirted more openly, he started to joke and laugh and shamelessly flirt back. At the end of the night, you brought him back to your apartment, and that was that.
You spent three straight days together in that tiny one-bedroom apartment. You had mind-blowing sex, and you cuddled and ordered take-out and watched movies, and had more sex and danced around the kitchen while he watched you like you were the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen.
But you woke up on day four, and he was gone. No note, no phone number, just an empty bed, and when you looked out your window, his bike was nowhere to be found. You’d known he had to leave at some point. He had told you about his plan, but you didn’t expect him to leave without saying goodbye. And maybe, just maybe, you’d thought he could like you enough to stay, but you were wrong.
You realized then that you knew nothing about him. He told you to call him “Michael,” and you’d figured out he was a doctor sometime on day two when you cut your finger and he went into patient/doctor mode, but that was it. You felt so stupid in that moment. But you chose to forget about it. It was fun. You’d had your moment, and that was all it was meant to be. That’s fine. All there was to do was to go back to how things were before you’d met him.
Six months later
Your first impression upon moving to Pittsburgh was, unfortunately, the emergency room. You finally saved up enough money to move here after working at that awful bar for two years. You got a nice-ish apartment with your best friend and a great job nearby; it was everything you’d dreamed of. However, a freak accident with a guillotine papercutter, a couple of hours into unpacking, had landed you with a huge cut spanning the entire width of your thigh and an obligatory trip to Pittsburgh’s finest ER. Luckily, the pain wasn’t so bad that you couldn’t laugh about it.
You didn’t stay long in the waiting room before they took you back to triage. Maybe they were worried about you getting blood all over everything.
“What seems to be the problem today, Miss– oh god?!” The med student looked up from his iPad at the slice taken out of your thigh and whinces, horrified. This is going well so far, you think to yourself.
“I got into a fight with a papercutter,” you chuckled, only mildly thrown off by the student’s clear lack of confidence. He only smiled awkwardly and continued to ask you questions about what happened and any other medical history you might have. Eventually, it was time for him to stitch you up. He looked around like a deer caught in headlights for anything that would give him the confidence to sew up a cut this big and possibly deep. It didn’t help your trust that this kid looked to be about your age.
“You know what,” he said after a couple of moments of pure dumbfoundedness, “I’m gonna go get an attending.” You breathed out a sigh of relief then, because although you hadn’t wanted to say anything to shake his confidence or hurt his feelings, you didn’t feel too great about this kid being the one to sew you up.
You waited for a while, holding the gauze to your leg, which had thankfully stopped bleeding, and humming to yourself. The curtain pulled back, startling you, and you looked up at the med student and doctor trailing behind him. Fuck.
“Patient has a large upper leg laceration and needs stitches. I thought you should take a look before I,” the med student goes on, but you aren't hearing a word out of his mouth because there he is, your doctor, the man who left you cold in your bed all those months ago without a second thought. He had reading glasses low on his strong nose, reading your chart, he had yet to look up from. He nodded as the med student continued rambling, then, finally, went to look at your leg. He stopped dead in his tracks then, eyes reaching yours, and swallowed so roughly you could hear it from a foot away. “Dr. Robby?” the med student questioned, noticing him stop so suddenly.
“Dr. Robby,” you said, testing how it tasted on your tongue. Your voice was a little hoarse, but you sounded more stubborn and incredulous than anything else.
“Uh,” he said, turning to his med student, “I can deal with this one.” He closed the curtain in front of his face before the poor kid had a chance to say anything else. He turned back to you. Slowly, he pulled the stool over and sat, chest level with your injured leg. He looked up at you and practically whispered your name. You just raised your eyebrows at him, waiting for him to say something. You hadn’t realized how mad you really were until now, getting to be face to face with him again. “So,” he started, “how’d this happen?” he lifted the gauze as he asked, eyes finally leaving your face. His hand goes to the hem of your shorts and pulls them up just a bit to get a closer look at your leg. The light contact felt painfully familiar.
His hand slid casually up your thigh as you sat comfortably on the kitchen counter. He was leaning against it between your thighs, and there was a carton of ice cream you were sharing in your hand. His spoonless hand continued moving up your thigh, his fingers brushing slightly under the hem of your PJ shorts. You just giggled and smacked his spoon. He didn't seem to mind.
“Moving accident,” you said matter-of-factly.
“Moving?” his eyebrows raised, and he somehow looked even more nervous than before.
“Yep,” you said, popping the P. That’s all you could manage without possibly blowing up on him in this small enclosed space.
“Here?” he was trying to sound as casual as possible, but it was not working. All you did was nod. He continued to inspect your wound and clean it out a bit with saline. Then he brought out a big needle and a suture kit, a big one. “First, I’m going to numb the area, okay?” He looked up at you again, and you hated the way his gaze made your stomach flutter. He started stitching you up with precision and expertise. You also hated how hot he was when he was focusing so hard on fixing you. Most of all, you hated the flashbacks you were getting from feeling his breath against your thigh.
“Oh fuck, Michael,” you breathed out heavy and horny. He had you laid on your back on the bed, knees over his shoulders as he kneeled on the floor between your thighs. He was placing gentle kisses and bites all along your inner thighs, avoiding the spot you really wanted him.
“You look so beautiful, sweetie,” He murmured against your thigh as you arched your back, hoping to bring him closer to where you wanted him. Eventually, he laid a firm kiss over your clit, making you hum and sigh and arch again. He worked his tongue through your folds, working back up to your clit where he planted more open-mouth kisses before finally sucking you into his mouth and rolling the bud between his lips. You moaned breathlessly at how gentle he was being while still driving you out of your mind.
“About halfway done,” he said, pulling you out of your trance. You shake your head, silently cursing yourself for thinking about such things when you’re supposed to be mad at him. He looks up at you then, seemingly forgetting about your stitches for a moment. “Should we,” he starts.
“No. No, that’s really not necessary,” you can guess what he wanted to say, that he wanted to talk. “Just stitch me up, doc. Don’t give me a second thought,” you want to bite your tongue after that last part, not meaning to let it slip out and show how frustrated you really are.
He breathes out your name, your stitches completely forgotten at this point. “I can explain. I thought that I was doing you a favor, really, I,”
“Stop.” You close your eyes, knowing that if you look at him, you won't be able to hold your resolve. You sigh, trying to place what you’re feeling. “It’s okay. It was nothing, I get it. A couple of days of fun. You owe me nothing.”
You only open your eyes again when you feel his breath back on your thigh, continuing his forgotten work. He works incredibly fast now, without sacrificing his precision. When he’s done, he robotically gives you aftercare instructions and tells you to come back in a few weeks so someone else can take them out.
Right as he's about to pull the curtain shut behind him, he looks back at you over his shoulder, “It wasn’t nothing.”
You sit there slack-jawed for a few minutes before a nurse comes in with some supplies and your discharge papers. As you're leaving, you look around for him one last time, but he’s nowhere to be found, as usual.
──── ☾ ⋆✧⋆ ☽ ────
at some point i might get to a part 2 of this, but i couldn't be bothered right now, and if i let it sit any longer i'd start to hate it. enjoy!
i normally don’t post on here, but what is up with the scam account coming back over and over with corrupted p links like we aren’t smart enough not to click the links????
