Tummy Love
Michael 'Robby' Robinavitch x fem!Reader
Watching Robby sit on his bike and use his shirt to wipe sweat off his face, revealling his squishy, hairy, sexy belly was really all it took…
Words: 7,9k (I can't just be normal, ever)
Content: Older Man/Yonger Woman (Reader is late 20s, Robby is in his fifty), Robby is a dick but reader is lowkey into it, belly riding, degradation, verbal humiliation, light dom/sub, daddy kink, PiV sex, rough sex, hair pulling, oral sex (f receiving), semi-public bj
This is just smut. I have no excuses for this. I was encouraged.
No use of Y/N
Read on Ao3 or below the cut:
It was a shit day in the Pitt.
When asked about your day, that was always your reply.
The patients were either monumentally stupid, disrespectful, verbally abusive assholes, intoxicated to the point they could not even hear the questions you asked, or the most precious, sweetest people ever - and the sweet, precious ones were always the sickest.
It was a cruel running gag of the universe, you were sure of it. The stupid assholes survived, and the sweet grandmas who called you hun and made you compliments, the polite single mums tearing themselves apart to keep their children’s worlds whole, died.
PTMC was chronically underfunded, the staff chronically overworked, running on shitty coffee, insomnia, saviour complexes and fumes, and the air conditioning unit perpetually shit.
What was there to love about this job?
You sat on the low wall by the ambulance bay, tucked away from the chaos of the ER against the corner by the wall with your knees drawn up to your chest and your head resting against the brick wall behind you.
It was your own personal little safe haven.
Everyone on staff had one.
Trinity and Dennis had the break room. Donnie and Jessy the hallways leading down into the subbasement where only the generators, central supply and the IT gremlins (as you affectionately called them) hid. Abbot and Robby had the roof.
You had this corner.
You took another sip from the can of soda you held in your lap. The late summer heat was oppressive, squeezing in around you until the air felt too heavy, too thick. The can was sweating as much as you, condensation seeping through the cheap fabric of your scrubs. Your feet were aching, your head too. Your hoodie lay discarded next to you on the wall. The ER itself was freezing cold, but the outside smoldering, and the waiting room was somehow even hotter.
ER waiting rooms often defied all laws of physics.
Yeah, when asked about your day, you always replied with shit.
The pay wasn’t enough for the backbreaking labour expected of you to keep the crumbling healthcare system afloat on your compassion and spite alone. The patients were ungrateful or so gut-wrenchingly tragic you couldn’t breathe. You woke in cold sweats most nights, remembering the faces of patients you’d lost years ago. The air conditioning unit might as well have come straight from hell with how it savoured torturing you. You were still paying off student loans and would continue to do so for many years just to have parents argue with you that vaccines were a hoax, their children lying in the next room as they slowly died from preventable diseases.
And yet, despite it all, you kept coming back. You came back every day. You picked up shifts when colleagues called out. You volunteered for holidays so those who actually had a family could spend the day with them. You stayed longer when the Pitt was swamped.
Perhaps you had some masochistic tendencies (you definitely had those).
Perhaps you were simply insane.
For some inexplicable reason, staying away from the hospital longer than two days in a row drove you mad with boredom. You stood in the front row of every mass casualty, swirling through the ER, past bloodied gurneys and screaming patients, blood pounding in your ears and feeling alive like never before amidst the death and devastation.
There was another perk to being an absolute, hopeless workaholic, and it was currently arriving for his shift.
Robby started riding his new motorcycle to work a few weeks back, and with the shock of PittFest still deep in everyone’s bones, it took a few days for people to even realise. It started with Dana pursing her lips. It ended with you somehow finding time to sneak away for your ‘lunch’ break every day at seven a.m. when Robby arrived for his shift.
He didn’t always notice you sitting on your wall with your packed lunch and ice-cold can of soda, no matter the weather. When he did, he shot you one of his strained, tight-lipped smiles or waved before heading inside to do handovers with Abbot.
You worked the midnight to noon shift, your time at the hospital overlapping with Abbot’s, Shen’s and Robby’s shift, a new system being tested by the hospital to provide greater continuity of care. The second-you worked from noon to midnight.
You didn’t mind.
You got to watch Robby arrive for work and wave him goodbye when you left to go home.
You looked forward to it. To these slammed eight hours you got to see him, be near him, work at his side, sometimes close enough to smell the scent of soap he used still clinging to his skin.
Robby never wore a helmet.
In front of Dana, he pretended he did. When you were around for one of their arguments on the matter, Robby always glanced over to you, sharing a private, conspiratorial smirk with you and winking.
Your knees went weak every single time.
It was pathetic really, how huge your crush on your much older attending had grown.
It started as fawning admiration for his skill and calm even amidst the shittiest, harshest shifts when you were nothing but a flustered med student who, no matter what she did, always stood in the way. When you were a resident, still overwhelmed that you actually got placed with your dream hospital, you worked tirelessly, making it your whole existence to prove to Dr Robby you could be trusted, that you were good, that you’d earned your spot here. That you soaked up everything he taught you. That you had not wasted the time he spent teaching you. You wanted to make him proud. You craved his approval and praise.
You were pathetic.
But when he’d been the first to congratulate you when you passed the boards, and he’d been the one to tell you your application for the attending position at PTMC’s ED had been accepted - those were your most cherished memories…
Robby parked in the same spot as always, close to the entrance of the ambulance bay. Sweat clung to his brow. The corners of his eyes were crinkled from a lifetime of smiling. You wondered when he stopped. What had sucked the joy and happiness out of him? Perhaps it was this job.
I’d make him happy again, that unhelpful, ridiculous little voice in your head whispered. You shoved it away roughly. What did you even have to offer a man at least twenty years your senior?
I’d suck him off so good he’d forget how to breathe.
“Oh my god.” You muttered to yourself, biting the inside of your cheek to fight off the heat creeping up your neck. When had you become such a fucking pervert? Lusting after some old man. Your former teacher. Your boss!
You were still watching Robby, like the unhinged little freak you’d become for him. He was checking his phone, still sitting on his bike. You watched him shove the phone back into the side pocket of his cargo pants and then, as if time had turned to molasses, you watched him shove his hand under the hem of his shirt and lift it up to wipe the sweat off his face and beard.
Your eyes glued themselves to the sight unfolding before you, to Robby’s soft, round stomach on full display, protruding over his belt like the most delicious fucking muffin you’d ever seen. You stared at his sweaty skin, the liberal dusting of coarse dark hair covering it, mouth quite literally watering at the sight.
Robby dropped his shirt again. It caught on his belly, leaving a delicious sliver uncovered, the same slivers you had stolen glances of every time he stretched his back in the ER, causing his scrubs to ride up.
Robby looked up and froze. Your eyes met across the ambulance bay. You couldn’t look away. What was wrong with you? Ogling his belly in public like some- some belly fetishist!
Heat suffused your face and neck, making even the scorching temperatures around you go green with envy.
Robby stared back at you. A slight pink tinge spread across his cheeks. He tugged on his shirt, even when it sat normally again and averted his eyes, twisting his head away with more force than necessary.
You were still staring at him.
You couldn’t stop.
Seeing his naked belly had broken something, fried some essential wiring in your brain, you were sure of it.
Robby didn’t look at you when he stalked past to disappear into the Pitt.
You stayed. Trapped between mortification at being caught ogling him and depraved delight at the sight that had burnt itself into your retinas.
This was not good.
This was not at all helpful with regards to your concerning, lecherous crush - though crush was far too tame a word to describe the absolutely filthy thoughts that came to haunt you every time you lay down in bed to catch some sleep between shifts.
You finished your soda, ate the last of your ‘lunch’ while desperately trying to remember how to act normal before heading back inside.
The scent of Robby’s aftershave, still fresh in the morning, still hung in the air. You felt yourself blush again. Oh god. You were fucked. You were so royally, monumentally FUCKED.
I want to fuck him.
“Oh my god, shut the fuck up.” You hissed to yourself.
Dana shot you an incredulous look over the edge of her glasses, one brow raised, no doubt seeing the blush still darkening your skin when you went to check the board. You forced yourself not to look for Robby before grabbing a tablet to throw yourself back into the ER madness - a mistake, you realised as you turned around and collided with another person.
A solid, soft, very good-smelling person.
“Dr- Dr Robby.” You muttered, backing away quickly. Could this day get any worse?
You looked up on reflex - it was impossible not to look at Robby, not to look for Robby, but all you could think about as you were peering up at your old mentor and object of all your desires was how you would ride your pillow tonight while thinking about the mouth-watering show he’d inadvertently put on for you this morning.
Your blush only darkened further.
Had you been any more sane in the moment, you’d have noticed Robby’s own flushed skin, or the fidgedy, uneasy energy surrounding him.
Dana looked from you to him and promptly decided she was not paid enough to deal with whatever was going on between the two attendings.
You were called away to one of your cases and quickly ducked around Robby to scurry away, taking all your perverted thoughts and shame with you.
Good thing mind-readers don’t exist. And in case they do, please don’t tell on me.
Your shift dragged on, tugging you along at the most infuriating, pointless pace ever. You liked your shift time slot. You liked that you got to spend one half with the nightshift crew and the second half with the dayshift. Nights were slower and somewhat calmer but also batshit crazy. Days were turbulent and demanding. You never wanted to go back to twelve uninterrupted hours of this shit ever again. Eight were more than enough.
You’d been avoiding Robby, and you’d almost made it to the end of your shift without interacting with him. You’d even voluntarily exiled yourself to chairs.
Just another hour to go before you could slink out, taking your shame with you and hopefully, hopefully Robby would have forgotten all about this by tomorrow. Or at least you could both pretend it had never happened.
You swirled around at the sound of your name being called - and cursed.
Robby made his way through the flow of staff and patients towards you.
“A word.” It was a question. He pushed the door to an empty exam room open and, hanging your head in defeat and embarrassment, you ducked under his arm and slipped into the room. Robby followed. The door fell shut. The chaos and noise of the ER faded away, leaving you alone with your stupid blush and stupid, feral thoughts and rapid heartbeat pounding in your ears.
Robby towered over you with his arms crossed, ridiculously tall and handsome and looking at you with that stern, sexy disappointed-teacher-look. You both shrunk under it and internally purred like a cat getting exactly what it wanted. He tilted his head and tipped it forward, looking down at you with those delicious dark puppy eyes-
“I expected more professionalism from you. If you have an issue, I thought you would have enough respect for me to bring it up with me personally, instead of doing this fucking charade of playing cat and mouse!”
Your eyes flicked down to his belly. Your severely unhelpful brain supplied pictures of you kneeling in front of him, feeling his belly against your forehead, choking on his cock while he berated you in exactly that tone.
Robby hissed your name. You flinched, head whipping up to meet his eyes again.
I’m no better than a man.
“I-” You mumbled unhelpfully, unsure of how to save yourself from the mess you were sinking into deeper and deeper the longer you were alone with him.
He was still going. Working himself up into a right frenzy while tearing into you in this new stress-fuelled way of his he never used to do before. You remember well how he knocked a former R4, who’d long since moved to another hospital after making attending, down a peg for shouting at you so hard after you made a harmless mistake you started crying and hyperventilating.
He was a very different man back then.
Not that you minded this new, rougher, meaner version of him.
“I know I am not the youngest man anymore-” An edge of insecurity slipped into his voice. “-but you are a doctor for Christ’s sake! I didn’t do anything inappropriate, so I don’t get what the fuck is going on with you that you can’t even do your fucking job today! Are you thinking about going to HR? Gloria? Is that it? Some snowflake shit about not being able to see some skin without getting offended?”
He was still going.
I want you to call me a filthy slut while I ride your sexy belly.
Silence.
No-
Oh god no-
“Did I say that-”
“Yep.”
You wanted to disappear. To stop existing. Better yet, for you to never have existed in the first place.
“I-” Your mouth went dry, so dry that every swallow felt like trying to force sand down your throat. “Fuck- I’m sorry-” You hid your face behind your hands and fought against the tears burning in your eyes.
Fuck.
Fucking stupid.
How could a decently smart person - and you had to at least be decently smart to have made it through med school and residency - be so fucking stupid?!
“Dr Robby, please- I-”
You bolted out of the room, leaving behind a stunned, slightly flushed Robby.
***
It was almost eight pm when a knock on your door tore you from your spiralling thoughts that shifted from berating yourself to considering resignation - because what else was there left to do at this point?
You’d stayed hidden in chairs until your shift was over and used the noon rush of people using their lunch break to see a doctor to slip out without bumping into Robby.
You barely slept, and you still had not decided whether you’d be showing up for your shift at midnight.
Peering through the peephole made your blood run cold.
Robby.
A dishevelled, sweaty, irritated-looking Robby. At your door.
You opened the door a crack, hiding behind it with only your head popping out. You felt Robby stare down at you, but you had no bravado left to face him. You didn’t have any bravado. You would have never said that to him, never confessed to your raunchy thoughts and fantasies. You still had no idea how the words slipped out.
“Can we talk?”
You nodded, still not looking up and stepped aside enough for him to slip into your apartment. You shut the door and slunk back down the hall and into the living room, where you sat down on your sofa, curling up into a tight ball with your knees to your chest and a pillow clutched in your arms.
Silence stretched between you, thick and loaded.
“Look…” Robby ran his hands through his hair and slumped down in the armchair on the other side of the coffee table with an audible sigh. “I don’t appreciate being ridiculed.”
Your head snapped up, brows dipping into a frown, lips parting as though to say something, but Robby lifted his hand, cutting you off.
“I made you uncomfortable, and instead of being a man about it and acknowledging it and apologising, I was a dick. That wasn’t right, but paying me back like that? That wasn’t cool either.”
“I- I didn’t-”
Robby snorted, a bitter, self-deprecating sound that sent a pang through your heart. “Right. Because I’m supposed to believe you meant that.”
“I did.” Your voice was a tiny, fragile little thing, bearing the evidence of the hours you’d spent panicking, thinking about what you were supposed to do to fix this, and no negligible amount of crying.
It was Robby’s turn to stare at you, opening and closing his mouth in a futile attempt to come up with something to say.
“I shouldn’t have- I never thought I’d say something like that to you, and that was so inappropriate, and I am sorry, but I won’t sit here and let you claim I was lying. Because I wasn’t.” Your cheeks burnt, but you forced yourself to hold eye contact even when your throat felt as though it was swelling shut.
“You- meant it?”
You nodded.
“You want to ride my belly?”
You looked away. Heat surrounded your face. “I think you look good. Really good.”
“Then you have very questionable taste, kid.”
You put the pillow down and got up, moving past your coffee table to stand in front of Robby. He watched you with a mixture of trepidation and anticipation. You set your knee against the edge of the cushion, right between his spread legs.
“Do you have a problem with my taste?”
Robby whispered your name, a warning that was already hanging on by a thread, brittle, too weak to conceal his own yearning he’d been fighting to keep hidden from you.
You were too young, too pure for him to drag you down with his own messiness and inability to commit. He didn’t care about workplace relationships, he should as department chair and man who’d been frozen out by scorned nurses to the point Dana had to berate everyone involved into restoring some semblance of professionalism, but you- he didn’t want to mess you up, and everything he touched got messed up.
“Maybe it’s not my taste that’s the issue.” You placed your hand against his shoulders, curling the fingers of the other around his chin softly to force him to look at you. “Maybe it’s your perception.”
You bent down further. Robby bristled, taking a sudden, deep inhale. He looked like a man trapped between resisting and breaking, and a wicked, depraved part of you desperately wanted to see him snap.
You dropped to your knees. Robby groaned and pinched the bridge of his nose, trying and failing to resist the temptation of looking at you, watching you huddled between his spread legs in your skimpy sleep shorts and loose shirt that did nothing to conceal the fact you weren’t wearing a bra.
You nuzzled the inside of his thigh with your head while dragging your hands down his chest, over his soft, warm belly-
You bit your lip to stifle a groan. You were too far gone to be embarrassed by how wet you already were for him, how needy and addled with pure, carnal lust that had been building for years, had grown to such devastating heights you apparently blurted it out in the middle of getting your ass handed to you - unfairly - by your attending.
You toyed with the hem of Robby’s scrub top.
“You’re crazy.”
“It would seem that way.” You murmured as you pushed his shirt up, eyes latching onto the delicious sight of soft, warm, hairy flesh. His body looked like the epitome of comfort. Lived-in, functional, not like those overly polished, eating disorder-driven fuck boys that clogged up your timeline on social media and flooded the dating apps, talking about discipline while eating unseasoned chicken with rice and making women feel shit about their very normal, very natural bodies. You could picture yourself curling up against Robby to leech off his warmth at night. Or resting your head on him while he ran his fingers through your hair.
“But since I already made a fucking spectacle of myself at work, I might as well do this.” You pressed your lips against his stomach and bit back a needy moan. Robby’s hand shot up to thread through your hair. He watched you mouth at his belly as if it was the hottest thing you’d ever seen, lavishing kisses and teasing kitten licks all over his squishy flesh.
He could not fathom how someone as pretty as you could ever be attracted to the worst part of him. Though perhaps these days the worst part of him was his steadily worsening temper… not that you seemed especially opposed to that too.
“Can I?” You looked up at him through your lashes.
“What?” Robby struggled to keep up with you, his mind preoccupied with trying to process how he’d ended up in your apartment with you kneeling between his legs and still somehow not to suck his cock.
“Ride your belly.” You painted languid patterns onto his exposed belly with your fingers, kempt nails scraping softly over his skin, making him shiver.
“Yeah.”
His reply came out breathless, without him really thinking about it. You emitted a squeaking noise of pure delight, and any inhibitions he might still have had melted away under it. You got to your feet, shimmying out of your shorts and panties before straddling him. You tugged and pulled impatiently on his shirt, but Robby needed a moment to get over the way your tits were in his face.
His shirt joined your shirts on the ground. Your fingers found their way into his hair and beard, toying with the coarse hair while rolling your hips against him. You stifled a moan against his temple, insides clenching violently around nothing as you dragged your soaked folds over his soft flesh. You applied more pressure, and his flesh gave way for you, allowing you more friction without it hurting or overstimulating your already swollen clit. You felt his hair against your inner thighs and heated flesh, a teasing tickle that sent prickling shivers of desire and need down your spine.
“Robby-” You moaned breathlessly. His face caught in your hands, you tipped his head back and slanted your lips over his. It was a messy kiss, uncoordinated and frankly, pathetically eager.
But was it your fault this sad old man underneath you was so fucking hot it burnt your neurons to just look at him?
After a stunned moment, Robby reciprocated. He cupped the back of your head with one hand while the other settled on the small of your back to pull you closer. He slipped down on the armchair a little, making it easier for you to grind against him.
“Fuck, sweetheart-” He muttered against your lips when you pulled back to gasp for air. “This what you wanted? You young people have some fucking issues…”
You shuddered above him.
Robby’s eyes lit up with mirth.
“Right… no, this is not all you wanted, is it? What was it you said? You want me to call you a filthy slut?”
You could only nod.
“Tell me, baby.” His hands fell to your hips, fingertips digging into your flesh as he pulled you down harder against him. “What is it your deranged mind pictured when you thought about this? Did you get yourself off to the thoughts of an old man’s floppy stomach?”
You nodded again.
“Words, sweetheart. Can’t help you if you don’t talk. Come on, be a big girl and use your words.”
You moaned.
Robby forcibly stilled the movement of your hips.
“I-” You couldn’t meet his eyes. Embarrassment burnt a path up your throat, and for some terrible, filthy reason it turned you on all the more. “You’re pulling my hair, holding my arms behind my back, and degrade me. Sometimes- sometimes you tell me to stroke your cock while I get myself off. To make myself useful.”
Robby inhaled a hissing breath through his teeth.
Slowly, he ran his hand up your spine, just to drag it back down and catch the hem of your shirt. You lift your arms to help him peel it off you. His eyes flicked down to your breasts immediately, mentally cataloguing the sight of you, saving it to his memory.
He threaded his fingers through your hair, palms flush against your scalp, just to curl his fingers, gripping your hair tightly at the root, and you thought you could have come right then, just from finding out Robby knew how to properly pull a girl’s hair.
He caught your wrist and twisted your arm behind your back, just enough to hurt but not so much he would dislocate your shoulder, dragging another stuttering moan from you.
“Go on then.” Robby purred, voice lower than before, eyes dark with hunger. “If you’re getting yourself off by rubbing your little cunt all over me like a fucking slut, you might as well make it worth my while.”
You could barely move. Between the silent threat of your arm twisted behind your back, forcing you to arch your back and lewdly present your breasts to Robby, and his hand in your hair, you were trapped.
It was so much better than you ever thought it would be.
Robby chuckled. “Fucking hell… and here I thought you were this innocent, well-behaved little thing.”
You finally managed to reach the waistband of his pants. It took you several attempts to manage to slip your hand under it, straining in Robby’s grasp and gasping when a movement had your shoulder aching. Robby, all the while, mocked you for struggling, for dripping all over him like a fucking whore, for getting so turned on by being man-handled.
“There you go… see, that wasn’t hard, was it? Pretending to be a useless, dumb bitch isn’t going to get you out of this, sweetheart. You put yourself in this situation, now be a big girl about it, hm-” Robby was cut off by a groan when you managed to close your fingers around his hard length. You tugged, forcing him out of the confines of his boxers. He felt big - long and heavy in your hand. Robby’s grip tightened around your wrist, dragging another stuttering moan from your lips.
You rolled your hips, rutting helplessly against his belly, immobilised by his strong arms around you, his cock throbbing against your palm-
“That’s all you can do? Hm? You get your hand around a cock, and suddenly that brain of yours doesn’t work anymore? Come on, sweetheart, put some effort in it. I thought you were going to make this worth my while? Why should I sit here and watch some whore get off?”
Pleasure pounded through your veins and rose to your head, wrapping your brain into a fuzzy blanket of bliss. Robby’s words made shame and embarrassment skyrocket in your chest. His hand around your wrist, twisting your arm behind your back, had sharp pain shooting through you, gasoline to the already raging storm of desire and need wreaking havoc over you.
“Robby- Robby, fuck- don’t stop-”
Tears clung to your lashes and rolled down your cheeks. Your chest rose and fell with each laboured breath you forced into your lungs. Your skin prickled as though you’d touched a live wire.
Robby’s dark eyes were glued to you, glinting with desire and wonder at the discovery of your own depravity. Never, never would he have expected the bubbly, sweet, innocent girl who’d been his med student all those years ago would get up to shit like this.
In all the years he’d spent pining after you, he never dared to think you would be this fucking perfect for him.
“Are you going to come? Are you seriously going to come from this? Fucking hell, sweetheart… such a disgusting, filthy fucking whore…”
“Y-yes-” You threw your head back, just for him to pull on your hair tighter, force your head back further until your toes were curling and your lips falling open around a suffocated moan. Your hand, already slick with pre-cum, tensed around his throbbing cock. “I’m a disgusting whore- your- your filthy whore- Robby- ah-”
“Oh, mine, are you? Am I to believe you won’t crawl to another man to have him throw you around the second I leave here?”
You tried to nod, but you could barely move your head.
“You can pretend to be a good girl all you want, baby, I don’t fucking believe you.”
“Daddy-”
A shudder tore through Robby, followed by a grin splitting across his face.
“Daddy? Oh ho ho, sweetheart.”
Your cheeks heated up under a fierce, bright red blush spreading across them.
“No no no, don’t you dare pretend you didn’t say that. Jesus, you’re such a fucking mess… no wonder you’re getting off to me tossing you around like you’re nothing but a used cum rag.”
“Robby-”
“No, baby.” Robby let go of your hair just to grab your chin. “No backpaddling now. Address me properly, pet.”
“D-daddy-”
“There you go. So there is some brain in that pretty head of yours after all.”
“Fuck me, daddy- please- ohmygod- I want to come on your dick-”
Robby was too far gone to question anything at this point. He was far too old to act like this, far too old to not waste a single thought of contraception or STIs or just the fact that he was your boss and you were far too young for him.
Robby let go of your arm. He had enough mental wherewithal about him still to ease it out of the uncomfortable position he held it in. He watched you for a second to make sure he’d not done any damage. You might be a little sore tomorrow, but from the way you moved it and rolled your shoulder to shake off the tension clinging to your muscles, he was sure you were fine.
You emitted a surprised squeal when Robby stood up with you in his arms, effortlessly, as though you weighed nothing. He turned you around and pushed you face-first onto the armchair. Your knees sank into the cushion. You clung to the backrest, just for Robby to grab your hair and push your face down. His fingers dug into your side, thumb pressing down on the small of your back viciously until you arched your back for him.
“Fuck- don’t even need any training, huh?”
You felt his blunt head rub through your soaked folds, heard the sharp intake of air he took in your ear as he bent over you, his front moulding to your back, belly pressed flush against your back-
“Keep that up and I might let you come.”
“Daddy-”
“Yeah, yeah, I know. Can’t trust a stupid slut to do as she’s told.” Robby forced your head to the side. You met his eyes through tear-soaked lashes. His lips brushed harshly against your cheek, his beard scratching your skin deliciously. “Tell me what you want, sweetheart. Come on. Beg me. I know you want to.”
“I want you-” You moaned, bucking against him, desperately seeking some friction to ease the painful pressure between your legs. “I want you to fuck me, daddy- I’ve wanted you- ah- wanted you for so long-”
“Yeah? How long, baby? How long have you been thinking about my cock stretching out that slutty little cunt?”
“Years-” Your nails dug into the fabric of your armchair, the material straining beneath your desperate grip, tears tumbling down your cheeks and falling off your jaw. A desperate sob tore through your chest. “Robby, please-”
You were cut off by the overwhelming stretch of his cock breaching you, pushing forward in a single, devastating thrust that had you trembling and whimpering under Robby. He felt so good- so fucking good- The stretch of him forcing your body to open up to him was just short of too much. He filled you up so good, thick and hot and heavy, a solid, throbbing weight inside your quivering, sopping cunt you could not forget.
“Shut up.” Robby hissed in your ear, knowing his sharp tone would only drag more delicious, high-pitched whines from you. “You got yourself into this mess, now be a good girl and take what daddy gives you. I don’t want to fucking hear you complain, sweetheart. You didn’t have to act like a fucking whore, you chose to, and now you see what daddy does to pathetic sluts throwing themselves at him.”
He fucked you in quick, jostling thrusts that had the feet of the armchair scraping across your flood. A distant, very distant part of you worried about Robby knocking the whole thing over from how hard he was pounding into you, but it quickly shut up when he let go of your hair to hold onto your waist, face nuzzling into the back of your neck.
He was panting, breathing loud and heavily, only interrupted by low, deep, rumbling grunts. His hips slammed into you, slamming you into the worn cushions. His star of david necklace tapped against your shoulder blade on every thrust while he mouthed at your ear and the side of your face, beard scraping deliciously over your sweaty skin.
The feeling of your cunt clamped down around him like a vice had apparently melted away every nasty word he could have thrown at you for your own sick, twisted pleasure, replacing the severe, struggling man you’d grown used to interacting with with a much softer version.
He muttered sweet nothings and tender praise into your skin while clinging to your waist as if you were a life raft.
And fuck, you’d be his raft, life preserver and stress relief if only he kept fucking you like this.
A younger version of you made a vow what felt like lifetimes ago to not waste any more of your time on toxic, unstable men, but for Robby you might just throw every common sense out the window.
Robby’s big nose smushed into your cheek, he kissed the tears off your skin, telling you how good you were doing for him, how good you felt for him, while a ceaseless, barely comprehensible string of daddy and please tumbled off your lips and into the cushion he’d shoved your face into.
Within minutes - or had it been hours? You weren’t sure. You sure as hell couldn’t trust your mind in this situation - Robby had reduced you to a whimpering, drooling mess. Your own arousal mixed with his pre-cum ran down your thighs and slicked up every thrust, causing an obscene symphony of wet noises paired with the telltale slap slap slap of skin hitting skin to fill up your dim living room.
Robby pressed his face into the space between your shoulder blades. He reached around you, pressing two fingers to your swollen clit, rubbing the pads of his fingers over it at just the right rhythm to make you fall apart with a strangled scream, his name still on your lips.
He thrust into you once, twice more before following you, grunting against your skin and coming inside you. His hips kept moving, almost automatically, fucking his cum deeper inside you until it covered his whole length and dripped down his balls.
You’d turned to putty under him. Drooling, happy, satisfied putty. You let your body slide down the backrest, collapsing on the armchair that was no doubt traumatised now, covered in your own arousal, cum, tears and drool as it was now.
You rubbed a hand over your face, humming in contentment.
“Where’s your bedroom?”
Robby’s voice was soft, caring, the way it only got with injured, scared children and hearing him address you with it after he just wrecked you and called you a useless, disgusting slut had your insides turn all mushy and warm.
You gestured down the hall, unable to get enough of your bearing to talk. You didn’t expect him to stay. You certainly didn’t expect him to pick you up bridal style and carry you to your bedroom, or to fetch a warm washcloth from your bathroom and use it and his tongue to carefully but thoroughly clean you up.
He set you down on your unmade bed and dragged the warm cloth over your thighs before, almost as an afterthought, cleaning himself up. He settled himself between your legs, face smushed against your heated flesh and lapped at your cunt until every last drop of him was gone and you were clinging to his hair, whimpering his name sweetly.
And because Robby was apparently a depraved, wretched old man, he stayed there. He stayed there, kissing and licking and sucking at your skin until he’d dragged another orgasm from you and Jesus, you sounded so fucking sweet and tasted so fucking good- Robby couldn’t pull himself away. No matter how much he should. No matter how much guilt crashed down on him now that the lust and hunger had subsided.
You wanted it, but how could he talk to you like that? Use you like that? You were such a sweet, young thing… how could you even know whether this was something you truly wanted? Not something you were made to believe you should enjoy? Robby had seen it before, and he had never wanted to be a part of it.
Even when you smiled at him, fingers playing with his hair and beard absentmindedly, he couldn’t help but feel like he’d done something terrible to you.
“Stay.” You croaked, and Robby felt himself nod before he could really think about the request, but yeah… what else was he going to do? Leave you? Fuck no.
He tossed the washcloth into your hamper and fetched you a glass of water. You gulped it down greedily before settling down, curling up against his side and nuzzling your face into his chest, your hand resting on his belly, drawing lazy circles onto his skin and playing with his hair. Robby buried his nose in your hair, the exhaustion of his shift finally crushing down on him, eyes falling shut…
Your alarm dragged you out of the easy, content, warm nap you’d slipped into. Your body felt pleasantly loosened, limbs still tingling faintly. Your arm felt sore, and a sharp, but not entirely unpleasant sting between your legs tore through you when you shifted.
Robby had wrapped his arms around you tightly, and it took some effort to extract yourself from him without waking him.
You tried to be as silent as you could as you took a shower and gathered your things for work. You left a note on the bedside table, telling Robby to stay as long as he wanted, and off you were.
You had an extra pep to your step as you strolled into the ER at midnight, just in time for your shift, and Lena commented on it right away - of course she did - gifting you one of her warm grins and peering at you over the edge of her glasses.
“Who’s the lucky guy?”
“A girl doesn’t kiss and tell.” You smirked and promptly slipped away to put your lunch in the fridge and your things into your locker before jumping into the nightly madness.
Your good mood stayed, and it did not go unnoticed by the rest of the Pitt either. Abbot shot you a questioning glance, a brow raised when your reply to his question came out a little more chirped than it should have. Ellis slapped you on the shoulder, grinning at you. Shen seemed a little intimidated, if not downright scared.
Seven a.m. rolled around, and you snuck away, grabbing your food and soda from the fridge, and made your way outside for your break you did not negotiate on. Seated on your wall by the entrance, you waited, perhaps with a little more anticipation than usual.
You watched Robby pull up on his motorcycle, the same motorcycle you saw parked outside your place when you left, a sight that put a grin onto your lips.
Whatever giddy, girlish delighted joy had carried you through the night, it withered the moment Robby got off his bike.
He didn’t look at you.
He didn’t acknowledge you.
He got off his bike, grabbed the helmet he never wore and marched right past you into the ER.
Tears stung in your eyes, and you didn’t know whether you hated yourself more for crying or for having had sex with him in the first place.
You knew he never committed to anyone. You knew his dating pool was basically limited to the hospital and the women who got into ill-advised affairs with him despite his reputation. You hadn’t even asked for anything. You had just had sex. Of course that didn’t have to mean anything you expected- you thought- that he’d at least look at you.
You chewed on your bottom lip, fingers trembling around your can of soda, trying not to let your thoughts spiral into self-loathing or self-deprecating versions of He is disgusted with you, of course he is. You are disgusting, playing on repeat in your head.
You finished your soda despite the nausea welling up inside your throat and dumped the rest of your lunch before heading back inside.
The change in your mood was felt viscerally by the whole ER, questioning looks following you on your way to your locker to deposit your lunch box. You didn’t notice Robby following you with his eyes, nor the concerned crease forming between his brows, but he was pulled away on an urgent case before he could make up his mind about whether to talk to you.
It was two hours into his shift when the silence between you became too much for him. The first chance he got, he slipped away, grabbed your wrist and tugged you with him into the family room.
You steeled yourself for another lecture.
It didn’t come.
“I-” Robby started, but stopped himself. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah. I was. Until you started ignoring me again.” You shrugged.
Robby winced. “Look- I shouldn’t have come to your place. We shouldn’t have- that-” He sighed. “It can’t happen again.”
“Why? Am I that disgusting to you?”
“Wh-what? No! How would you even come to that conclusion?!”
“Well, everything was fine last night, and now you’re back to being a dick. What else am I supposed to think? I’m sure most women don’t ask you to call them a slut while fucking them.”
“I don’t- Do you think most guys get off on calling the woman they’re with a slut?”
“Yeah, actually, they probably do.”
Robby hesitated. “Okay… point taken. Not that it was about calling you awful things for me. It was about you- about knowing I was making you feel good…”
You crossed your arms. “Then where’s the issue, Robby?”
He gestured vaguely at you. “You. All of you.”
“Wow. Thanks.” You deadpanned, glaring up at him.
“No! Not like that! Jesus. Look, you’re too young, yeah? And far too good to waste your time on someone like me. You deserve someone who’s kind and sweet and gentle. Not whatever the fuck I did to you last night.”
“You don’t get to tell me what’s good enough for me.” You sniffed. “You did what I asked you to do, you don’t think I deserve someone who does what I ask?”
“Come on, sweetheart, you don’t have to pretend with me. You didn’t actually enjoy that-”
“Why not? Oh, so you can be into BDSM but not me? Is that it? Leave me alone with that internalised sexism bullshit!”
“Woah, I’m not sexist.” Robby blinked at you.
You snorted.
“I’m not! I respect women.”
“Yeah, the thing with internalised things is you are not usually aware of them, but I’m not fucking getting into that with you now. Are you coming over tonight?”
Robby opened his mouth just to close it again. He had an odd resemblance to a fish in a moment, and you briefly wondered how it was fair for a man to be so handsome that even that didn’t turn you off.
“What?”
You rolled your eyes. “You need hearing aids or something? I asked if you’re coming over tonight.”
“Why?”
You shrugged and took a step forward, letting your hand trail over his protruding, soft belly. “I want to feel this against my forehead while I choke on you.”
Robby all but sputtered. He looked around frantically, as though to make extra sure the family room was empty, just to hiss your name under his breath.
You grinned.
Slowly, you lowered yourself to your knees. Robby didn’t stop you. You popped open the button of his cargo pants and dragged down the zipper, all the while looking up at Robby. He glanced from you to the door and back to you.
“I wanna suck you dick, daddy.” You purred. Robby cursed under his breath. He braced his hand against the door before slumping against it with his back when you curled your hand around his soft dick to pull it from his boxers.
“Jesus, kid-”
“Is that a yes?” You asked in a painfully fake, high-pitched, whiny tone.
“Yeah-”
You grinned to yourself as you parted your lips to take him into your mouth. He grew hard under your touch, under the insistent drag of your tongue over his velvety skin. You sucked on his tip until he was cursing, and giggled around him when he grabbed your hair to force you down, burying himself as deep in your throat as he could. He squished your nose into the coarse, dark curls at his base and your forehead into his soft belly.
You moaned around him, eyes fluttering shut.
It was so much better than you ever thought it would be.
A few minutes later, throat sore and hair more or less smoothed down, you emerged from the family room with a renewed pep in your step. Robby slunk out behind you a while later, once you’d cleared the hallway and hopefully nobody would put two and two together.
Dana shot him a withering, disapproving glare from central, Jack next to her merely raising his brow before shaking his head.
Robby blushed.
That night, after his shift, he found his way back to your apartment, and the night after that, and the night after… He was fucking addicted, and he didn’t even care when you sucked his cock like that or cried his name out so sweetly while coming around him - and especially not when you lay in bed next to him, playing with his stomach hair and smiling up at him so prettily…
