A WIP of the previous line art I posted earlier- I don’t render in any particular order so it’s messy and all over the place but please do ignore that, I just felt like sharing.
Also, spot the little details I’ve added into the picture, hehehe~
Corporate needs you to find the difference between these two pictures.
Original All-Star Game video from @clagri_29. Baby giraffe clip from Whipsnade Zoo YouTube. Thank you @club-medical for pointing out the uncanny resemblance.
18+
Michael 'Robby' Robinavitch x f! reader, established relationship, cockwarming, PIV sex, unprotected sex, creampie
WC:2K
Summary: You hate it when Robby skips breakfast. Determined to get him through an entire meal before he's out the door for his morning shift, you devise a way to keep him firmly in his seat until his plate is licked clean.
Divider credit: @/cursed-carmine
It’s the sizzle of raw egg whites gently bubbling up with milky color around a pair of sunny yolks that manages to coax Robby out of his slumber. They bubble in a thin, aromatic layer of bacon fat left over from the strips you’d fried up before cracking two eggs over the hot frying pan.
He lingers a while, mostly awake but not ready to leave bed just yet. He’d been on his side when he woke, facing your side of the bed. Without you there now he rolls slowly onto his back, arms and legs stretching out lazily. There’s a faint crack and pop here and there in his joints, then his fingers softly scratch at the hairy patch of stomach that peeks out between his sweatpants and wrinkled t-shirt.
There’s an insistent chirping outside the bedroom window; a nest of hungry starling chicks calling to their mother from where they sit wedged securely under a space in the roof. The sound of their hunger drums up his own even more, the smell of a hot breakfast hanging tantalizingly in the air.
“Michaeeel, come eat.”
The corner of his mouth pulls into a sleepy half smile at the sweet drawn-out mention of his name, bare feet meeting the floor as he begins to rise and leave the bedroom behind.
“Making me breakfast? and what did I do to deserve all this?”, he calls out to you playfully as he heads over, stopping for a moment to squint at the newspaper that’s been left folded on the arm of the couch but giving up when he remembers that he’s left his glasses behind.
“Don’t want you skipping breakfast again, Mister”, you call out a little less sweetly.
The man scratches at his beard meekly at that. “Ah…”, he lets out, reminded of how often you’d made it known that you dislike him leaving home for his morning shift with nothing but a couple of energy bars stuffed into his pocket to get him through it.
“Mmhmm. Now have a seat, I’ve got everything ready for you.”
“Baby, thank you. That’s so- “
Robby makes it to the entryway to the kitchen but not further than that, freezing in place when he gets a look at you in front of the stove. By your side you’ve piled a small stack of fluffy, browned bacon pancakes on a plate. You pick it up and turn around with a second plate of fried eggs fresh out the pan in the other.
“C’,mon”, you urge him again casually in your little apron.
Only in your little apron.
It’s secured around you nicely. Crisp white with the straps tied behind you in a tight, dainty bow. Its edges are cute and frilled, just flared out enough to keep everything technically covered. So long as you face him this way. Turn around and he’d get a good look at your bare ass again.
“…Honey?”
You pout, looking a little disappointed in yourself as far as Robby can guess and it only adds to the confusion. “No…, maple syrup. Isn’t that what you usually prefer?”, you glance at the glass bottle full of sweet amber syrup that you’d already placed on the table when you first set it.
“No- nononono”, he flusters away the misunderstanding.
“Why- and believe me, I am not complaining in the slightest but, why are you dressed like that, honey?”
“Oh”, you reply, resuming your path to the table and setting both plates down by Robby’s seat. The cutlery's already been set out too and his mug, full of bitter black coffee, releases tendrils of curling, steamy vapor into the air.
“To incentivize you”, you state bluntly. “You know I don’t like how you don’t eat right in the mornings. Or ever, really. Honesty, what is with you doctors, Robby? You all act like you’re allergic to the same healthy habits you harp about to your patients.”
On a normal day he’d answer. Some dismissive excuse wrapped around a bad joke to diffuse the tension. But now? Nothing. He’s caught in the snare of your stern gaze, arms crossed which only helps to push your breasts higher and strain against the top of the apron. That displaces his focus back to your state of dress and Robby pays silent thanks to every thread that makes up that little apron of yours, never having paid stricter attention to anything else like he is right now.
He could get used to this.
“I’m going to look extra pretty for you and treat you even better, but only if eat a proper meal”, you point a finger at the food finitely.
“Now. Sit.”
Promptly, Robby takes his seat, not unlike a dog trained to behave for a treat. It happens so quickly and he has no urge to question it any more. If his girl wants to take care of him while wearing something skimpy then why the hell not?
“Baby, let it never be said that you don’t come up with the best ideas”, he chuckles, picking up his fork and knife, ready to cut into one of the thick pancakes first.
“Good, I’m glad you think so because-"
Just when he thinks he’s caught the gist of it, just when he thinks the surprises have come to an end, you stun him into silence again. Dropping onto Robby’s lap, you place each leg on either side of his thighs to straddle him as you begin to pull at the strings of his sweatpants. He can’t help but choke on nothing, yet to even take a bite with both hands still suspended in the air, uselessly clutching his cutlery as you slip your hand inside. With no boxers to wrestle with, you begin to wrap your fingers around his cock as easily as you have every time before. Lazily, you pump at it, now much less soft after finding you in here with your nude back turned to him while fixing him breakfast.
“I know you, Robby. I’m not letting you scarf some of it down and run out the door either. You’re going to stay right here-"
You rise when you think him firm enough in your grasp, carefully lining his cock up with your wet entrance and then easing all the way down onto his base. The thought of performing the very act had kept you damp down there all throughout preparing the meal. So, you share in relishing the feeling of being joined again and full.
“And finish eeeeevery last bite. Nice and slow. Right here in this seat, until I say you can go. Okay?”
The words jumble and tangle on Robby’s tongue like an overgrowth of vines, never quite getting past his lips. One moment he’d settled down, aroused, yes, but mostly incredibly endeared that you’d gone through all this effort just to make sure he’d be taken care of. Now, he’s inside you. You’d put him there, mounted him with a quiet and casual confidence that he’s still reeling from. His mouth feels dirt dry but it’s hard to care when you’re keeping his cock so deliciously warm and wet.
Your arms wrap around his neck next, tucking your chin on his shoulder.
“Go on. Eat”.
The man’s trapped, essentially. Not that he’s opposing. Not one bit.
Pancakes first, Robby pretty much hits reboot as he sticks his fork in and runs his knife through the softness, evenly distributed cuts of salty, chopped bacon in the mixture. “So good”, he comments through a mouthful, chewing well. Hearing it makes you clench around him, pleased and excited. “Yeah? New recipe”, you gleam.
Working his way through the food, he gives you much praise, both about the tasty meal and how good you feel around him. Every few moments you feel him buck up into you too, the kind of thing he can’t help but follow through with despite wanting to be good for you. You feel kind enough not to tease him for it. And when you sense him slowing down, pancakes done and just one more fried egg to go, you make sure to whisper; “Finish it all and I’ll let you finish inside me”.
Just like that the man’s vigor is replenished with comical swiftness, stuffing the last half of the egg into his mouth, swallowing once he’s chewed through it well enough. Clearly eager for his reward, he grabs the still hot mug of coffee despite knowing better, bringing it to his lips and practically chugging it down.
“Don’t burn yourself! I’m not driving you to the center to be a patient. Or would you like to explain to your colleagues exactly how you singed yourself?”, you reprimand him though you’re not surprised one bit when you feel his cock kick up and twitch inside you at that.
“Oh yeah? You’d like that, huh? Want to tell them how your girl dolled up and dressed down for you? Then sat on your cock while you filled up on what I made for you? Hm? Dirty old man”, you chide, teasingly taking his earlobe between your teeth and biting lightly.
Setting the empty mug down a little harder than necessary with a loud clink, Robby gulps down the contents, a thin rivulet of caffeine making its way through his beard as his hands coming to fix on your ass.
“All done. Do I get my reward now?”
You can’t help but giggle at this particular type of raw eagerness in a man of his age.
“Yup. You’ve earned it”, you pull away from where you’d had your face tucked between his neck and shoulder, making eye contact with him again since he’d taken his first bite. Without another word, you press your feet to the ground and begin to bounce in his lap.
Robby helps, hands strong on your ass. One of them is still warm from clutching the hot mug of coffee he’d swigged down, pulling you down hard to his base with every bounce.
“Never skipping a meal again. Any of them. Breakfast, lunch, dinner- fucking brunch even. Not if I’ve got you like this in my lap”, he grunts and groans through the silky drag of your walls around his cock like it’s the first time he’s ever felt it.
“Oh fuck…oh fuck…oh f-fuck.”
You chase your own pleasure too, grinding the bead of your clit against him with a fluid roll and snap of your hips.
“Robby, baby, I love you so much. Just want you to take b-better care of yourself, okay?”.
It’s the plain, honest core of the sexy little routine you’ve introduced to him today. That desperate consideration for him, the kind he’s never known from anyone else, is what sends him over the edge, a splash of heat shooting inside you, thick and plentiful.
In the midst of it you shudder through the shaky, pulsing wave of your own release when it hits, trembling and whining in his lap.
“Promise…promise I’ll do better. For both of us.”
The words come seconds after, settling on you like some sort of years long-awaited closure.
“Good. That’s all I want. For you to keep trying”, you reply truthfully.
Resting, your head against his shoulder again, arms around his neck, you cuddle into Robby as he rubs sweetly at your back. Giggles are exchanged as he pulls at the edges of your apron, wondering where you’d got it and when and if you might consider trying out a few more designs and colors going forward. Charged to his card, of course.
The playful banter softens a little after that as your tired bodies slump into each other, wordlessly recuperating before it’ll be time to pull his spent cock free from you and separate. He’s only got 20 minutes left before he’ll need to leave for work. As another surprise you’ve even got a proper lunch packed and ready for him. You’re keen to hand it to him before he’s out the door and then, later, you’ll decide on what you’ll be making for dinner. The silence lasts a little over a minute, a pleasant pause before coming to an end when he speaks up.
“So, any chance I can have what’s under that apron of yours for dessert tonight?”
18+
Michael 'Robby' Robinavitch x f! reader, established relationship, cockwarming, PIV sex, unprotected sex, creampie
WC:2K
Summary: You hate it when Robby skips breakfast. Determined to get him through an entire meal before he's out the door for his morning shift, you devise a way to keep him firmly in his seat until his plate is licked clean.
Divider credit: @/cursed-carmine
It’s the sizzle of raw egg whites gently bubbling up with milky color around a pair of sunny yolks that manages to coax Robby out of his slumber. They bubble in a thin, aromatic layer of bacon fat left over from the strips you’d fried up before cracking two eggs over the hot frying pan.
He lingers a while, mostly awake but not ready to leave bed just yet. He’d been on his side when he woke, facing your side of the bed. Without you there now he rolls slowly onto his back, arms and legs stretching out lazily. There’s a faint crack and pop here and there in his joints, then his fingers softly scratch at the hairy patch of stomach that peeks out between his sweatpants and wrinkled t-shirt.
There’s an insistent chirping outside the bedroom window; a nest of hungry starling chicks calling to their mother from where they sit wedged securely under a space in the roof. The sound of their hunger drums up his own even more, the smell of a hot breakfast hanging tantalizingly in the air.
“Michaeeel, come eat.”
The corner of his mouth pulls into a sleepy half smile at the sweet drawn-out mention of his name, bare feet meeting the floor as he begins to rise and leave the bedroom behind.
“Making me breakfast? and what did I do to deserve all this?”, he calls out to you playfully as he heads over, stopping for a moment to squint at the newspaper that’s been left folded on the arm of the couch but giving up when he remembers that he’s left his glasses behind.
“Don’t want you skipping breakfast again, Mister”, you call out a little less sweetly.
The man scratches at his beard meekly at that. “Ah…”, he lets out, reminded of how often you’d made it known that you dislike him leaving home for his morning shift with nothing but a couple of energy bars stuffed into his pocket to get him through it.
“Mmhmm. Now have a seat, I’ve got everything ready for you.”
“Baby, thank you. That’s so- “
Robby makes it to the entryway to the kitchen but not further than that, freezing in place when he gets a look at you in front of the stove. By your side you’ve piled a small stack of fluffy, browned bacon pancakes on a plate. You pick it up and turn around with a second plate of fried eggs fresh out the pan in the other.
“C’,mon”, you urge him again casually in your little apron.
Only in your little apron.
It’s secured around you nicely. Crisp white with the straps tied behind you in a tight, dainty bow. Its edges are cute and frilled, just flared out enough to keep everything technically covered. So long as you face him this way. Turn around and he’d get a good look at your bare ass again.
“…Honey?”
You pout, looking a little disappointed in yourself as far as Robby can guess and it only adds to the confusion. “No…, maple syrup. Isn’t that what you usually prefer?”, you glance at the glass bottle full of sweet amber syrup that you’d already placed on the table when you first set it.
“No- nononono”, he flusters away the misunderstanding.
“Why- and believe me, I am not complaining in the slightest but, why are you dressed like that, honey?”
“Oh”, you reply, resuming your path to the table and setting both plates down by Robby’s seat. The cutlery's already been set out too and his mug, full of bitter black coffee, releases tendrils of curling, steamy vapor into the air.
“To incentivize you”, you state bluntly. “You know I don’t like how you don’t eat right in the mornings. Or ever, really. Honesty, what is with you doctors, Robby? You all act like you’re allergic to the same healthy habits you harp about to your patients.”
On a normal day he’d answer. Some dismissive excuse wrapped around a bad joke to diffuse the tension. But now? Nothing. He’s caught in the snare of your stern gaze, arms crossed which only helps to push your breasts higher and strain against the top of the apron. That displaces his focus back to your state of dress and Robby pays silent thanks to every thread that makes up that little apron of yours, never having paid stricter attention to anything else like he is right now.
He could get used to this.
“I’m going to look extra pretty for you and treat you even better, but only if eat a proper meal”, you point a finger at the food finitely.
“Now. Sit.”
Promptly, Robby takes his seat, not unlike a dog trained to behave for a treat. It happens so quickly and he has no urge to question it any more. If his girl wants to take care of him while wearing something skimpy then why the hell not?
“Baby, let it never be said that you don’t come up with the best ideas”, he chuckles, picking up his fork and knife, ready to cut into one of the thick pancakes first.
“Good, I’m glad you think so because-"
Just when he thinks he’s caught the gist of it, just when he thinks the surprises have come to an end, you stun him into silence again. Dropping onto Robby’s lap, you place each leg on either side of his thighs to straddle him as you begin to pull at the strings of his sweatpants. He can’t help but choke on nothing, yet to even take a bite with both hands still suspended in the air, uselessly clutching his cutlery as you slip your hand inside. With no boxers to wrestle with, you begin to wrap your fingers around his cock as easily as you have every time before. Lazily, you pump at it, now much less soft after finding you in here with your nude back turned to him while fixing him breakfast.
“I know you, Robby. I’m not letting you scarf some of it down and run out the door either. You’re going to stay right here-"
You rise when you think him firm enough in your grasp, carefully lining his cock up with your wet entrance and then easing all the way down onto his base. The thought of performing the very act had kept you damp down there all throughout preparing the meal. So, you share in relishing the feeling of being joined again and full.
“And finish eeeeevery last bite. Nice and slow. Right here in this seat, until I say you can go. Okay?”
The words jumble and tangle on Robby’s tongue like an overgrowth of vines, never quite getting past his lips. One moment he’d settled down, aroused, yes, but mostly incredibly endeared that you’d gone through all this effort just to make sure he’d be taken care of. Now, he’s inside you. You’d put him there, mounted him with a quiet and casual confidence that he’s still reeling from. His mouth feels dirt dry but it’s hard to care when you’re keeping his cock so deliciously warm and wet.
Your arms wrap around his neck next, tucking your chin on his shoulder.
“Go on. Eat”.
The man’s trapped, essentially. Not that he’s opposing. Not one bit.
Pancakes first, Robby pretty much hits reboot as he sticks his fork in and runs his knife through the softness, evenly distributed cuts of salty, chopped bacon in the mixture. “So good”, he comments through a mouthful, chewing well. Hearing it makes you clench around him, pleased and excited. “Yeah? New recipe”, you gleam.
Working his way through the food, he gives you much praise, both about the tasty meal and how good you feel around him. Every few moments you feel him buck up into you too, the kind of thing he can’t help but follow through with despite wanting to be good for you. You feel kind enough not to tease him for it. And when you sense him slowing down, pancakes done and just one more fried egg to go, you make sure to whisper; “Finish it all and I’ll let you finish inside me”.
Just like that the man’s vigor is replenished with comical swiftness, stuffing the last half of the egg into his mouth, swallowing once he’s chewed through it well enough. Clearly eager for his reward, he grabs the still hot mug of coffee despite knowing better, bringing it to his lips and practically chugging it down.
“Don’t burn yourself! I’m not driving you to the center to be a patient. Or would you like to explain to your colleagues exactly how you singed yourself?”, you reprimand him though you’re not surprised one bit when you feel his cock kick up and twitch inside you at that.
“Oh yeah? You’d like that, huh? Want to tell them how your girl dolled up and dressed down for you? Then sat on your cock while you filled up on what I made for you? Hm? Dirty old man”, you chide, teasingly taking his earlobe between your teeth and biting lightly.
Setting the empty mug down a little harder than necessary with a loud clink, Robby gulps down the contents, a thin rivulet of caffeine making its way through his beard as his hands coming to fix on your ass.
“All done. Do I get my reward now?”
You can’t help but giggle at this particular type of raw eagerness in a man of his age.
“Yup. You’ve earned it”, you pull away from where you’d had your face tucked between his neck and shoulder, making eye contact with him again since he’d taken his first bite. Without another word, you press your feet to the ground and begin to bounce in his lap.
Robby helps, hands strong on your ass. One of them is still warm from clutching the hot mug of coffee he’d swigged down, pulling you down hard to his base with every bounce.
“Never skipping a meal again. Any of them. Breakfast, lunch, dinner- fucking brunch even. Not if I’ve got you like this in my lap”, he grunts and groans through the silky drag of your walls around his cock like it’s the first time he’s ever felt it.
“Oh fuck…oh fuck…oh f-fuck.”
You chase your own pleasure too, grinding the bead of your clit against him with a fluid roll and snap of your hips.
“Robby, baby, I love you so much. Just want you to take b-better care of yourself, okay?”.
It’s the plain, honest core of the sexy little routine you’ve introduced to him today. That desperate consideration for him, the kind he’s never known from anyone else, is what sends him over the edge, a splash of heat shooting inside you, thick and plentiful.
In the midst of it you shudder through the shaky, pulsing wave of your own release when it hits, trembling and whining in his lap.
“Promise…promise I’ll do better. For both of us.”
The words come seconds after, settling on you like some sort of years long-awaited closure.
“Good. That’s all I want. For you to keep trying”, you reply truthfully.
Resting, your head against his shoulder again, arms around his neck, you cuddle into Robby as he rubs sweetly at your back. Giggles are exchanged as he pulls at the edges of your apron, wondering where you’d got it and when and if you might consider trying out a few more designs and colors going forward. Charged to his card, of course.
The playful banter softens a little after that as your tired bodies slump into each other, wordlessly recuperating before it’ll be time to pull his spent cock free from you and separate. He’s only got 20 minutes left before he’ll need to leave for work. As another surprise you’ve even got a proper lunch packed and ready for him. You’re keen to hand it to him before he’s out the door and then, later, you’ll decide on what you’ll be making for dinner. The silence lasts a little over a minute, a pleasant pause before coming to an end when he speaks up.
“So, any chance I can have what’s under that apron of yours for dessert tonight?”
