I bought Dr. Robby's green fleece (it's a Patagonia Better Sweater in the colour Torrey Pine Green), which arrived today. The fleece is great, but this post isn't about that. This post is about how a flyer fell out from the folds of the fleece which, upon closer inspection, I discovered to be an advertisement for an anti-suicide charity. Hilarious stuff.
summary: another night of lackluster sex with your boyfriend leads you to Robby's door. who else would you confide in about your lack of pleasure than your closest friend. he's sure he can show you a thing or two.
tags/desc: 18+ MDNI, fem!reader, AFAB!reader, implied med student!reader but it doesn't really matter to the plot, young!robby, med student!robby, sleazy!robby, college/med school AU, to close to be 'just friends' trope, smut, cheating— do not read if it makes u uncomfortable!!, dubcon (robby convinces her its ok to sleep with him), unprotected piv (no hat not cat yall!), fingering, oral (f!recieving), light hair pulling, petnames/name calling (baby, sweetheart, dirty girl, slut, etc), pussy pronouns (she, her), super vague 90s references (was not born in the 90s so i wouldnt know LMAO), slightly proofread
wordcount: 5.7k (literally wtf)
part 2
a/n: 13 google doc pages later and here we are. i feel like the end is kinda rushed but fuck it we ball + peep the new profile theme 😛| requests are open—!! reblogs are a writers best friend
“Yeah baby— I’m so close!”
The old wood of the twin bed creaked and bumped into concrete walls. Soft thuds echoing off the walls, mixing with the feverish grunts of your boyfriend. Plaid sheets messily sprawled around your body, undone from being pushed aside in an effort to peel your clothes off.
It’s an unsightly scene, at least in your eyes. Your chest pushed into the mattress, his sweaty hands gripping on to the plush skin of your hips, pulling your bottom half up and bending you in half. Weakly pushing and pulling his cock in and out of your somewhat interested hole. The feeling of his sloppy rhythm against your ass. Like a fish flailing on dry land. A pace that only he could enjoy.
Boring. Yawning. Sloppy.
The three words that stuck to your brain throughout the entirety of 15 minutes. You were glad your face was pushed into the pillow and partially covered by your hair. Or else your boyfriend would see the flat expression that you couldn’t manage to cover up. Playing off your ‘pleasure’ with fake high pitched moans. It’s good enough to fool him, make him feel like he’s really doing something.
“Oh gosh I’m gonna—!” He chokes on his words as his hips come to a halt. Forcing you deeper into the pillow and mattress as his hips stutter. Dumping another sad, sad load into the condom.
A deep sigh left your lips, as you rolled over on to your back. Your boyfriend pulled out and sat on his heels, panting like a dog. A stark difference in who really got to feel it tonight.
This is how the routine went on. You enter his dorm room, while his roommate is gone for the evening. Laze around on the cramped bed, converse about your days, then go straight into the act. You grew to— you had to grow to get used to it. Did you enjoy it, like it? Like is a very strong word. Of course, you cherished every moment with your boyfriend. But after the ill-fated honeymoon phase passed, a deep pit had started to form in your stomach. One that screamed concerns from its very depths.
But you aren’t shallow, never will be. You know there is more to a relationship than sex. He got you flowers on every date. Held doors open for you. You liked the way his fingertips felt when they ran over your scalp. You can learn to enjoy mediocre sex. Maybe he just had to be trained a little more.
Who were you kidding? Why should you have to train your own boyfriend on how to make you feel good?
“So uh— did you finish too baby?” You cringed at the question. Sweet, simple Derrek. Too lost in his own pleasure that he couldn’t tell, in the last few weeks, you had not been able to finish with him at all. Forcing you to take the burden of saving his ego by lying to him everytime.
“Yeah, yeah I did. Thank you, honey.” Forcing a soft smile on to your lips as you give his arm a soft pat.
And on with the routine; exchanging a few kisses, pulling clothes back on, and getting ready to slip out the door.
“I’ll see you tomorrow, yeah baby?” He asked, holding the door open. The dim light of the dorm hall contrasted with the bright, warm light of his dorm room.
“Yeah. Yeah, maybe. I might have to study extra tomorrow night for my microbiology exam on Friday. But, I’ll call your line.”
“Please don’t tell me you’re studying with Robby— You know I don’t like that guy.”
You turn your body to start walking away. Really to hide the massive eyeroll. “How many times have I told you not to worry about Robby?”
You finally slip away from the dorm. Hearing the heavy, wooden door shut behind you as you trail down the hallway, a deep weight lifts off your shoulders. Finally dropping the act that came with every intimate night. The act of pretending that you didn’t want to shake him and scream to finally make you finish. To listen to your needs for a change. Throw in a spank in or something. Call you anything but your name.
You float out of the building, walking through dark courtyards with students lingering around walking to the library or back to their own dorm. Not much is on your mind as you aimlessly stroll. Thinking about what to eat in your little stash of snacks. If it’s time to do laundry. If you’d have to let your fingers slip into your panties to feel some kind of release. Mundane. That’s all it felt like after evenings with your boyfriend. Not magical, blissful, or euphoric.
It’s not long until you are on the floor of your dorm room. Passing by closed doors, old flyers start to peel off the walls. As you approach your door, reaching into your bag for your keys, your eyes drift to the final door at the very end of the hall.
Resident Assistant | Michael Robinavitch
Do Not Knock After 9 PM! - robby
Your lips curled up from its original thin line. You knew Robby would make an exception this one time. It’s only 9:07 anyway. He always knew how to lift your spirits.
Fleeting past 3 doors, standing in front of Robby’s. Knuckles rapping against cool wood. A muffled groan on the other side, followed by subtle padding of footsteps leading up to the door.
“How many times do I have to tell you people… Read the sign—” As the door opens, Robby rubbing the tiredness from his eyes. Stopped in his slight annoyance from your surprise visit. Leaning against the door as he softens.
“Well good evening to you too, Robert. Am I interrupting your 9 PM bedtime? ” you ask with a fake pout.
“Never sweetheart.”
The mere presence of you is enough to turn Robby’s evening indifference into something sweeter. Reciprocating your smile with a slanted smirk of his own. Jerking his head backwards, motioning for you to come in. l told you to stop calling me Robert, slipping from his lips as a mumble.
Slipping your shoes off and dropping your bag by the door. Your body finds its new home in Robby’s bed. Falling back into the mattress, that is somehow more comfortable than yours, humming at the easing feeling on your back. And Robby is quick to flop right next to you. Lean arm folding under his head, giving him room to slide right next to you. Pressing your sides against each other. Your head rests on his arm as a cushion as you lean into his body.
According to other people (anyone that isn’t you and Robby), this is not how two friends hang out. Friends don’t cuddle, which you weren’t cuddling anyways. It’s for body heat, and dorm beds are tiny; there's only so much space to go around.
Ok, maybe the both of you cuddle. Just a little bit. Locking arms, tangling legs, occasionally falling asleep in that position after long nights of studying. It’s for bonding! It’s hard to make meaningful friendships in med school. Everyone either is too busy to hang out, or lives too high up on a self-proclaimed pedestal. And that’s why Robby is your closest friend. Best friends even, that occasionally cuddle, sleep in each other's bed, and give the off handed kiss on the cheek. Completely platonic. Anyone who thought you were more was overthinking it. Especially your boyfriend, who was not too happy when you would catch you sitting too close for his comfort.
“Friends don’t call each other honey and sweetheart!” Derrek would say.
Yes they totally can.
“What happened to your night out with your boyfriend? What’s his name, Connor? Brian?” Feigning interest in his eyes.
“It’s Derrek, don’t be a dick Robby. And it ended a little earlier than I thought. So why not pay a visit to my second favorite guy?”
“You must have the wrong room because Freddie Prinze Junior isn’t in here.” You roll your eyes and bite back an annoyed smile. With the uneventful time you had with your boyfriend, you were not in the mood for more jokes. Rolling your body over to let yourself out.
Robby whines, grabbing at your forearm to pull you back in. Pulling you back to the position you were previously in; cradled into his side as you rest on his tricep.
“Heyyy, I’m joking. You know I have all the time for you. What’s on your mind?” He said while nudging your side with his hip.
With a huff, you sit up and press your back against the cool wall, pulling your knees to your chest. Shaking your head, searing denial into your brain. Robby was not the right person to talk to about your bedroom troubles. As much as you want to.
“It’s nothing. Just didn’t feel like going back to my dorm.” But Robby knew you better than that. He egged you on, pushing and prodding you to tell him more. What did you really have to hide from him? He told you everything and as did you. Even though he loved to tease and poke fun at you, he never tried to judge you.
Biting on the inside of your cheek, you look at him cautiously. “If I tell you this, you cannot tell it to anyone else. Like at all.”
“Oh, so I can’t tell Freddie Prinze Junior?”
You smack his arm. “I’m being serious Robby!”
“Ok, ok fine— What’s the matter?” Robby moves himself up, just like you did. Back against the wall and knees slightly bent. Taking a hand to hook under your bent knee and pulling your legs to drape over his lap.
You groan and lean your head against the wall. Squeezing your eyes shut as embarrassment began to creep up your face. As open as you are with Robby, admitting anything about your sex life with your boyfriend was hard. Maybe it’s because you were trying to be serious with Derrek. And vowed to not give Robby any ammunition in order to make him get along with your boyfriend. But the dull sex was weighing on you. You had no one else to vent to about it.
“For the past few weeks, maybe a month… Derrek has not been able to…” your hands roll in motion. “Finish the job. My job, per say.”
Robby’s eyebrows scrunch, that smart doctor brain of his took a few seconds to catch your drift. His lips turned into that sickening smirk that you knew all too well. He was not going to let you live this down.
“You’ve been letting that bonehead have sex with you and not let you finish?” He taunts the idea in the form of a deep laugh. You wanted to give him another swat on the arm for laughing. But, you knew better because you knew he was right to laugh. To develop an inside joke with you for later down the line with this new information. Something that will cause him to give you a knowing look anytime he is in the same vicinity as Derrek. A very, I know something you don’t know I know, look. One that came with a shit eating grin.
“It’s not that he’s not letting me finish, I just don’t think he really knows that I’m not finishing…”
Robby dips his head down to level his eyes with yours, eyes that have been avoiding his ever since the conversation started.
“Are you telling him that you finished?” You nod sheepishly. He stifles a giggle behind his lips, shaking his head to shake away how much knowing your own boyfriend can’t satisfy you is elating him.
Robby always knew that Derrek was not going to be good enough for you. You were a med student, top of your class during your undergrad. And he was just some guy. So uninteresting in Robby’s eyes, he didn’t know his major or care to remember his name. Robby can do a way better job, but he never really admits that to himself. Usually too busy with his roster full of other girls pawing their way to the top to even consider why he thought he would be a better choice for you.
“So what— his dick too small? Or he’s a minute man?” Robby asks, another nudge with his elbow, egging you on for more. He is one of the nosiest men you know. But that’s because it was so easy to get the words flowing from you. So trusting of Robby you have no fear in telling him every detail.
“He lasts as long as he can! He kind of sounds cringey? When we have sex. I don’t know, hearing him grunt was not as hot as I thought it would be. He sounds like a pig. But any time we have sex, it’s just that. Not that exciting or freaky… It’s so vanilla.”
And there came the flood gates. Weeks of sexual frustration coming out in the form of broken words. Airing out everything to Robby. From how vanilla sex had been feeling, to how your boyfriend refuses to acknowledge foreplay as an important part of sex.
Just as Robby hypothesized; Derrek is fucking boring. He knew that from the very beginning. Hence, why he knew nothing about him, and didn’t care to know anything about him. And with this new information, he wanted to laugh harder than he should. Tease and rub it in your face that he knew all along that this guy was not right for you. To ditch him, find someone more in tune with your needs and intelligence.
But Robby is a good friend, he wasn’t going to rub it in your face. At least not tonight, maybe tomorrow after a lecture. It hurt just seeing his best friend not get treated the way she deserves. He brings a comforting hand to your knee, rubbing his thumb over the fabric of your jeans.
“I just don’t know what to do! I don’t want to have to teach him how to have good sex. And it feels like it’s been so long since I’ve had good sex that I don’t even know what good sex looks like!” You whine.
“What exactly are you missing?”
It felt shameful to admit, shallow. Admitting that you felt entitled to something more than a kiss and fuck.
“Well he doesn’t… he doesn’t do any of the things I want to do…” It’s too late to look sheepish in front of Robby. You were so willing to tell him about your bedroom troubles. He motioned you to keep going, more detail. Robby never liked vague details.
“He’s never eaten me out… or ever really does it the way I like too.” You get quieter with each word, shrinking into yourself. What a humiliation ritual, admitting to yourself and your friend how unsatisfied you have become in your relationship.
“And how exactly do you like it?” he pried, really interrogating you this evening.
“Like, toss me around or something! Pull my hair, I don't care!” Begging and pleading to the room. And Robby heard you loud and clear.
“Poor girl, you really do have it the worst don’t you?” he said with a taunting frown.
“God, why did I even come to talk to you? What would you know…”
A deep chuckle erupts from his throat again. Relishing how easy it is for Robby to push your buttons. You enjoy it though, enjoy that Robby doesn’t try to put up a nice guy act. He can meet you at your level and try to bait you into giving it back to him.
“I’ll have you know I am a very generous person in bed. Always make sure the girl I’m with gets a chance to meet the finish line too.”
You narrow your eyes, mind whirling around how hard you found it to believe in his own words. Robby has always had a reputation of trying to sleep with any pretty thing that walked on two legs. You even had the misfortune of walking in on him and his fling of the week once or twice. He was known to sleep around. So, your mind wanted to fill in the blanks by thinking he was selfish in bed. Who can blame him? Robby was handsome and knew how to use his words well. As much as you want to be Michael Robinavitch’s number one hater, you heard the subtle whispers of girls talking about what he could actually do in bed. You refused to believe it, you know the real Robby.
“Really? Michael Robinavitch, the man that can’t seem to commit to one person for more than a month, has enough care in his heart to treat a girl right in bed?”
“Yeah, I’m wounded that you don’t believe me.”
“Because you’re full of shit.”
“Nope. If I was your boyfriend, you’d be creaming around my cock every night.” The way he said it so casually. Like it was just another passing thought in his mind. Talking to you like it would have no effect on you. It did have an effect on you, a big one. Widening your eyes in bewilderment, how could he just say that to you? Out of the blue?
You were put into fawn mode. Fingers freezing in an invisible grip, heat rising up your neck and flooding into the plush skin of your cheeks. Warm air catches in your throat, fighting with the urge to say anything back to him. The words are lost on you, he got you right under his thumb. Trapping you in a corner where you simply can’t move on from what he said. His forwardness and confidence gave your heart a little skip. As close as the two of you were, the topic of sex was never a hot one. Maybe a jab about being up too late because of sex. But this was new territory for you.
“Yeah right… Ha ha very funny.” At this time of night, you weren’t really in a joking mood. Especially jokes at the expense of your own pleasure, which you had been seeking out for so long.
“I’m not joking. If you’d let me, I’d show you a good time.” Robby’s hand that was once a comfort on your knee, slowly slid down to your thigh. His fingertips felt more of your warmth as they slipped to find comfort between your thighs. He managed to stay a respectful distance from your core, but close enough to make you aware of Robby’s growing intentions. Hooking his hold around your thigh, giving you a firm squeeze on your thigh. Your body instinctively pressed your thighs together.
“Stop Robby that tickles. Your room is so fucking dirty, you really need to clean it…” You were quick to try and change the subject.
Robby was leaning in closer, eyes connecting with yours once again. His warm breath fanned against your face. A part of you was screaming inside to pull away, this is turning into a weird direction. You have a somewhat, semi-serious boyfriend. You pride yourself on loyalty. But that little devil on your shoulder was more convincing. Just hear him out. See what he has to offer. He’s your best friend, why wouldn’t he be telling you the truth?
“You know I wouldn't lie to you sweetheart. Cross my heart.” His voice dropped to that boyish tone he would use to sway your opinion. A cute smile and a little sparkle in his eyes. Like a god damn puppy that was begging you to take them home.
And before you could think further, his free hand reaches for yours, intertwining fingers. His large hand envelops yours as he pulls it to his lips. Goosebumps spread over your skin as warm lips press against soft skin. Traveling from the top of your hand, to the bottom of your wrist. A tender type of kiss you weren’t completely used to, especially from Robby. It powered down your defenses, tense shoulders relaxing. You were deprived of this kind of sweet intimacy, weakened by a need for more than the standard. Your eyes followed his movements, kissing your skin and petting at your thigh. Robby started leaning in closer, maneuvering his body to wedge himself between your thighs. Lips traveling up your arm, skipping to your neck. It sparked the long lost warmth in between your thighs that you haven’t properly felt in a long time.
“Robby… we— I shouldn’t…” You stifle a mewl as he nips at the skin of your neck. “This isn’t right… ‘m with Derrek.” But your body betrayed your words. Softening underneath him as he slowly kissed up to your burning cheek.
“I won’t tell, I know you won’t… just wanna show you what feeling good really feels like. It’s for science. ‘S that ok baby?” His voice is ringing in your head. Squeezing your eyes shut to try and rationalize it. “It’s not really cheating.”
For science, please. It’s so wrong, so so so so wrong. You crossed the line of cheating when he kissed your hand. Derrek has been nothing but good to you.But you’re buzzing with excitement. A slick forming in your panties that you were sure if Robby found, he wouldn’t let you live it down.
Robby hovered his lips above yours, a sliver of space between you. The slightest movement will close the gap, seal the deal of your betrayal. The logical side of your brain is telling you to stop and shake your head. Run away to your dorm and act like none of this ever happened.
“Talk to me sweetheart. Do you want me to make you feel good?”
“Yes Robby… please…”
Who gives a fuck, you’re a girl with needs. And Robby is offering to help you meet those needs.
With no time to waste, Robby’s lips seal onto yours. Licking himself into your mouth, teeth scraping together as his tongue swipes over yours. The lingering taste of coffee and toothpaste trickling onto your tongue. It was delicious, more than you should like. Tasting Robby’s day on his tongue. Nervous hands reaching up to Robby’s stomach, feeling his body through the boundary of a loose cotton t-shirt he used for sleeping. You can feel Robby smiling into your kisses, amused how you were so in tune with him already. He pulled away briefly, making you whine softly as he pulled the shirt from over his head.
You have seen Robby shirtless countless of other times. This setting should be nothing new, but it was daunting on your mind. His knees perched between your legs, forcing you to stay spread open for him. A growing bulge in Robby’s sweatpants rutted against the fabric. Physical proof he wanted this just as much. You didn’t know you wanted it too, more so you felt your body pulling you in Robby’s direction. Taking you further and further away from Derrek.
Robby brought his lips back to yours, licking at the seam, pushing his tongue past your lips to take its place against your tongue. Your mind growing a fog you don’t realize he plucked the button of your jeans, pulling the garment down past your knees and over your ankles. An unforgiving wet spot forming on your cotton panties. The cute white ones with pink lace on the waistband.
“It’s like you knew this was going to happen didn’t you? Wearing cute panties for me.” He teased, tickling his fingertips on your navel. Threatening to go lower and lower.
“It’s not for you Robby.”
“Yeah, but I bet I appreciate it more than he does, right?”
Your silence was a good enough answer for him. Looping his fingers under the hem of fabric and pulling it down slowly. Robby watches intently as it glides against your smooth skin. Like nothing, the panties disappear behind him, into the void with your jeans. Robby lets a deep, content sigh escape his lips. Sitting back on his heels as he takes in the sight of your drooling pussy. Priding himself on how easily he made you a dripping mess. His hand caresses the nook of your thigh, traveling up to feel the warmth above your pussy. Robby pressed his thumb against your aching clit. A firm press, before beginning slow circles. Using your slick as a lubricant to easily glide the pad of his thumb around your clit.
The muscles of your legs tighten and shake all at the same time. It's as if he was using your clit as a joystick, stirring your body to be at his mercy. With a swift motion, Robby’s free hand pokes two fingers at the slit of your cunt. You gasp, finally moving your eyes to watch as he slides the long digits between your folds. Silent squelching as his thick fingers rub against velvety walls. Struggling to hold in a moan, pathetic whines fails you.
“Does that feel good baby? When I rub your clit and finger your soaking pussy.” It was vulgar the way he was describing it to you. Forcing you to picture it every way you can. You want to shake your head no, just to prove him wrong and remind yourself your boyfriend will always have your heart. But you’re not a liar. It felt good, amazing even. The most you’ve felt in a very long time.
“I think she’s enjoying it very much.” Robby answers for you. Easing the pace on your pussy, curling his fingers up against that particular spot with each thrust of his hand. “Pussy is practically crying for me. I think she wants more… What about you honey… Do you want more?”
Never in the months that you have been dating Derrek, had he ever asked if you wanted more. Watching as Robby toys with your heat, you nod your head slowly. Eyes never moving from his movements to not miss what he does to you for a beat. His smile widens, perking his cheeks up. Robby is eating up seeing you unraveling for him in a way he thought he would never have the pleasure of seeing one day.
He dips his head down, a quick swipe of his tongue up against your slit. Collecting your wetness on his tongue. You groaned and rolled your head back. Robby filled the gap between your clit and finger-stuffed slit by sucking his lips against the free space. Overloading your senses, feeling all of Robby against your pussy. Using everything he could possibly have, with the exception of his dick. He tasted the tart fluid in his mouth, humming into your flesh with satisfaction. Not too sweet, but not sour at all. The right taste that spurred him on to eat more of you. Robby gave his thumb a rest, replacing it with this mouth. Sucking on the bud and rolling his tongue against it.
It felt like hours he had been ravishing at your sex, dizzying your head and eliciting mindless moans and cries from you. Music to his ears, sounds that he knew your boyfriend never heard genuinely. It will be etched in his brain for the rest of his waking life. Shaking knees coming to a halt when Robby finally pulls away, wiping your arousal away from his chin with the back of his hand. It was over too soon for you. He got you so close to the brink, why was he pulling away now. Bringing yourself to your elbows, huffing as he pauses.
It was rewiring his brain, staring at your soaked cunt. He remembered how it pulsed around his fingers during each movement. He swooped in to save you from Derrek at the right time.
“That good, huh baby? We can go two ways; I keep sucking on your sweet girl and make you cum on just my tongue, or make you cream around my cock. Just like how I promised.” he proposed, leaning himself back in to loom over you. His hands started at your thighs, pushing up to your stomach, slipping under the top you had left on.
Any reasonable girl that loved their boyfriend would realize how wrong this was and stop it. You should have stopped it a long time ago. You were a broken record in your own head; screaming at yourself to finish this and go back to Derrek. Admit defeat and learn to love the sex you had. It’s a shame, everyone has their vices, and this was becoming yours.
“Don’t break your promise to me now, Robby.”
He smiles smugly, tugging his sweatpants away and letting them fall off the bed. No boxers, nothing to give you a moment to adjust the sight of him. Long cock bobbing in the air, rosy tip that had the smallest drip of precum. What a whore, of course he doesn’t wear underwear to bed. Robby was consistent in proving your own prophecies wrong. He was much more well endowed than Derrek had been. You pull your top over your head, reaching around to unclip and slip your bra away from your body. In all your naked glory, Robby celebrated in his head. Plush curves and supple skin, how could your boyfriend fail in giving your body the best is deserved?
Robby pumps his cock a few times, inching closer to line himself up with your slit. When his tip finally prodded your folds, it made a sickeningly wet sound. Coating his tip in all of your built up sin. He reveled in the feeling of your pussy on his cock. Rolling his head back as he sunk deeper and deeper. Hips pressing into yours, the most skin contact the two of you have ever made outside of cuddling. The depths that his cock was able to reach pulled out a noise you didn’t know you could make. Raw and hungry, mewling as he stretched you out to a new size. You braced yourself by grabbing on to his forearm. Pressing your eyes shut to see the white stars in your vision.
Robby started to roll his hips into yours, pulling his cock out half way then burying himself back to the hilt. His well tamed bush tickles your skin. He grabbed under your thighs, splitting you out and open. A deep stretch in your hip joint as he gave himself a better angle to thrust into.
“Fuck! Fuck fuck fuck… Robby!” you try to keep your cries hushed, not wanting to rudely wake up anyone else on the form floor.
The lustful sounds of skin slapping on skin as he deepens his stroke and quickens his pace. It echoed in your ears and pushed away any thought of your boyfriend. Large hand grabbing at your chin, squishing cheeks to get a good grip to guide your face up from the bed.
“Open your eyes baby, you wanted this, why aren’t you watching?” A comforting stroke of his thumb as your eyes obediently open.
Looking down to watch, the base of his cock disappears inside your pussy as he drags himself out and pushes back in. It was intoxicating, forcing yourself with the realization that this is what you were asking for. Begging the universe to give you one night of good sex. You held yourself up, eyes flicking from his face to your weeping cunt. It mirrored Robby, who was savoring the way you bit on your lip to stifle every little noise that came out of you.
“Say it..” He managed to say between his own grunts and moans.
“S-Say what…”
“That I’m better.”
Smug mother fucker. He can’t just enjoy the moment and let you feel good. He has to keep rubbing it in that you’re willingly cheating on your boyfriend with your best friend. His thumb presses down on your clit, quick to make smooth circles around the needy bud again. Like pressing a button to get the words to come out of you. The sensations that brewed in your core were more than you were used to handling.
“Shit! Robby… you’re better!”
He leans in close, the hand that was holding your face grabbing a fistfull of hair and giving it a taut tug. The mild pain on your scalp went straight to your core, walls squeezing down around him. A dark chuckle erupting from his throat.
“Better at what, dirty girl?”
He was stirring the pot with his words, berating and shaming you. You liked— loved it. Making you get off on your unfaithfulness. Another tug with his hand, the pressure of his thumb on your clit getting harder.
“You’re better at fucking me! You’re so much better Robby.”
“That’s my girl.” He praised.
That long lost knot inside you grew tighter and tighter. Toes curling as he thrusted into you like he was on a mission. As that knot snaps, you finally come around his cock, that deep loss of dissatisfaction is no more. It’s fireworks in your core, writhing in his hold as he fuck you through your orgasm. He kisses your bare shoulders and necks, whispering praises into your ears as he chases his own high.
“Such a good girl… Being a slut for me and letting me show you how good you can feel…”
His grip on your hair and thigh tighten, the edges of his fingernails sure to leave a mark later down the line. Rutting his hips into yours as his thrusts become uneven. Robby catches his release. Spurts of warm liquid flood your insides, painting your walls with his load. You couldn’t have cared less that he didn’t use a condom. It was worth it to experience the cloud you were floating on called bliss. Derrek is finally an afterthought. The shortlasting euphoria was worth it. Even though, when you lie awake tonight, you’ll remember what you have done.
Robby pulled himself away, a trail of your juices mixed together and coating his cock. A dripple of cum starting to leak from your slit. Catching his breath, he slides himself next to you, running his arm under your neck to pull you in close. A soft kiss on your forehead. For how wrong he was for making you cheat, he still made you feel good about it in some ways. Knowing he would be ready to comfort you in any way you’d ask when you eventually dump your boyfriend.
“So… what did we learn today?” he asks.
“It’s way better when you do it.”
a/n pt2: hello taglist i have not used in a long time LMAO
synopsis Jack was just looking for an easy night, a quiet drink, but what he finds is so much better. You, sat in a seat that's his, fresh, new and young to the area, starting a new job with your dad. Jack just didn't think to ask the right questions... (5.2k words)
warning Smut MDNI! younger reader, older jack! Robby's daughter reader! oral (f receiving!) making out, language, protected p in v, dirty talk, praise king, reader is described to have longish hair, reader calls jack solider, peep the quin audio hints
authornotei locked tf in with this if i do say so myself. had this idea sitting in my drafts had to write it, if you like i would love to do a part two, the idea of dads best friend has me with a chokehold. i made up a small, tiny backstory for jack as we know so little. the beautiful jack gif credits go to @lovebugism (her fics are so good !!!!!)
pitt masterlist! another Jack fic!
Jack didn't have a specific place at the bar, but everyone knew where he sat. He got half way across the bar, dragging himself across the sticky floor before he realised there was someone else sitting in his seat. He could tell it was his stool from the slight wobble it gave side to side, and he could tell it was a young woman sitting in his seat from the sound of her laugh.
Terry, his favourite bar tender who'd seen him at his worst and best, caught a look at him and grinned.
“Hey! Just the guy I was talking about!”
Jack didn't know he was territorial about his bar. But he found himself sliding into another bar stool with a sulk. “Usual please, Terry,” he said, letting his backpack drop with a heavy thud.
“You got it, boss!”
A whiskey would soon be slid over the counter, chased by another and maybe another till a small fuzz clouded the edges of his mind and he could sleep easier. He forgot just how gruelling days could be.
But then he spotted you.
You were still smiling with the remnants of a laugh. One finger on your right hand was chasing the condensation down your emptying glass. He did a double take at you, looking past the hair falling to the smooth skin, doted with a mole or two.
You were young. The sort of young you didn't find in a bar- at least not alone. But this bar also wasn't the busiest, exactly why he liked it.
You didn't look like you belonged there. At the same time, you looked like there was nowhere else you wanted to be. Your chin rested in your other hand, your jacket was slung over the back of the stool and you weren't shying away from anything around you.
Jack's whiskey was dropped off in front of him and finally Jack got a look at you. Beautiful. There was no other way around it. He wasn't going to judge a book from its cover but he had a feeling your beauty wasn't the last thing to surprise him.
“Can I get you another drink?” he asked you once he held your attention for more than a second.
Your eyes widened, as if you hadn't expected him to talk to you. “Oh no, thanks, I shouldn't drink too much tonight.”
“What?” said Terry, pretending to wipe over a 'dirty' spot on the counter. “I thought you were celebrating, huh?”
Jack's brows rose. “A celebration?”
“She just moved to the city,” said Terry.
You smiled, bashfully. “I got a new job.”
“Congratulations,” said Jack. “And welcome, this is Pittsburgh's finest.”
“Thanks,” you said.
There was a moment passed in silence where the both of you seemed to understand the two ways the night could go. If you mutually decided to keep it there, a polite congratulations and a kind offer of a drink maybe you'd just remember him as the kind, older stranger.
You turned to him. “If the offer of that drink still stands I think I'd like to take it.”
Jack moved his body to face yours. He glanced at Terry, who waited happily. “Another one for-”
You told him your name and it chimed a bell in Jack's head, as if he'd been waiting his whole life to hear your name from your lips. He introduced himself and his fate was sealed.
“So, are you a native to Pittsburgh?” you asked, twirling a bit of hair between your fingers.
Jack lifted his shoulders. “Came her to settle down after some things.” He didn't want to get into the whole collage and tours and losing his leg and moving here after losing his wife. He didn't want to watch that pretty face of yours contort with worry or sympathy. “Are you new here, or?”
“Kinda. My dad's around her, parents divorced so I only see him sometimes,” you explained, flippantly.
“And now you got a job here?”
“Now I'm here.”
You told him where abouts you were living which had him worrying if he was any other random guy at a bar that you'd be telling him, putting yourself in (potential) danger. Or maybe Jack was special. It wasn't a very good area, the sort he never even looked at when he was moving, but he knew it was cheap.
“I passed this place driving in, looked good,” you said.
Jack chuckled and leaned in to avoid Terry's ears as he'd gone off to change the channels and some other guys requests. “Clearly your new around here. When I said it was Pittsburgh's finest.... it might have been an exaggeration.”
You laughed and Jack wondered what other stupid jokes he could make to have you laughing again. “Well, nobody's offered me the grand tour yet.” You took a swig of your beer.
There was an opening.
Jack didn't know why he was looking for one but it was out of his lips before he really understood what he was doing. “If you ever need a tour guide,” he said, gesturing to himself. Did he look dumb doing so?
You raised your brows. “You might regret that. I ask a lot of questions. I'm really into my history.”
“Good thing I know a lot about this place.” He did not, but he could read some stuff up.
“You know, you're quite the charmer, Jack,” you said, seizing him up.
He nodded his head side to side. “You've caught me on a good day. Any other day I'm an asshole,” he said, regretting the words as soon as they left his mouth. What was he doing? “I- that was a bad joke. I'm not an asshole. At least I don't think so.”
“I don't think so,” you said. “After all you're keeping a lonely girl like me company.”
“You moved alone?”
You smirked. “Are you asking me if I have a boyfriend?”
Jack usually came to this bar for a quiet one after work. At 6 am he'd nurse a whiskey, an un healthy habit he knew. Sometimes he was called in early and only had a couple hours to spare before his actual shift started he'd hang around, have a glass of water of a crappy cup of black coffee. He didn't come here to flirt with girls. Young girls who would probably attract some stares if he walked around with you on his arm.
Yet the idea of doing just that thrilled him.
“I guess so, yeah.”
A small dusting or blush rose to your cheeks. “Well, I'm alone. There was this guy back where I used to live but.... meh, he was stupid.”
Jack nodded, listening as if you were one of his patients. “He dump you?”
“He cheated on me.”
“Then he's the stupidest guy around.”
You smiled, laughing off your blush. “You know, you don't know me yet. I could be a massive asshole.”
“Well that's up for me to decide,” he said, as if he hadn't decided you were anything but.
It didn't take long for the place to fill up after that, people finishing work or deciding to end their nights of drinking there. It wasn't usual for Jack to be around at that sort of time, so the in flood of people surprised him, crowding the two of you at the bar.
That's how he ended up in a booth with you, an arm slung over the back of the cushioned seat as you sat in the ghost of his touch. You were almost leaning into him but keeping a conscious decision not to fall into his arm. The both of you were still nursing the same drink an hour later, sharing stories from each others lives.
Jack didn't ask about your new job and you didn't tell him.
“How long's your dad been out here?” Jack asked.
“Practically all his life,” you said. “But he moved when he met my mom, they separated when I was like five? He came back here so usually I'm just visiting.”
Jack nodded, briefly eyeing how close his hand was to touching you. So far he'd kept it polite. A hand helping you off from the bar stool (you did not need his help), a gentle hand on the small of your back as he led you to the booth, a finger brushing away lint that wasn't on your shoulder. He just wanted to touch you again.
“You close with him?”
You smiled, un-easy. “Well I'm about to be. I'm working with him.”
Jack made a wince and an O face.
Soon enough you were shuffling out of the booth, saying you needed to use the restroom. Jack knew stories about girls who went to the bathroom and didn't come back out, climbing through the window and leaving the guy to wonder what he'd done wrong.
He tried not to let his mind wonder. He checked himself, kept an eye on any guy wondering closely and tugged your drink closer to him, though the bottle was practically empty as well as his glass. He chucked a mint from his pocket into his mouth and chewed it down quickly.
He checked his phone once and then sat and waited.
When you got back to the table, you weren't alone.
Jack frowned as he saw the guy at your side, big enough to swallow you up and shirt so tight on him Jack had a suspicion he brought a size too small on purpose. He straightened at the pinch in your brows and purse of your lips.
The guy at your side was equally studying Jack.
The both of you stopped in front of him and you gestured down to Jack.
“Told you,” you said in answer to a conversation he wasn't apart of.
Jack didn't know what was going on and he wasn't picking up on any social cues. He lifted up a hand, grey hairs rising along his arms in a shiver. “Hi.”
“Oh,” said the guy. “That's cool, I guess. Maybe I'll see you around.”
You shrugged and took your seat next to Jack, this time tight into his side. He let his arm drape around your shoulder.
The guy took his cue and dismissed himself, wandering back to his buddies at the bar, looking back to you once.
“What was that about?” Jack asked, checking the guy one more time.
You didn't move from his side, only turned into him and he didn't move his arm. “Sorry, the guy was waiting for me to come out the bathroom. I told him I was here with... my dad.”
Jack had expected a lie you'd told the guy. Maybe you said you were already here with someone, a boyfriend maybe? “Your dad?” he chocked on his breath. Was he old enough to be your dad? Probably.
“I'm sorry, I panicked!” you said with a laugh.
It was infectious. Jack couldn't help but chuckle to, rubbing away at a wrinkle in his forehead. “I couldn't have been your partner? Or something.”
“C'mon, you think me saying I have a boyfriend will change him hitting one me?” you asked. “A guy like that?”
“You weren't interested in him?” Jack asked, looking over your shoulder to pass a small glare over to the guys. “Buff. Blonde. Young.”
You shook your head, pushing yourself further into his arm. “Nah. I like mine with meat on their bones. Darker... maybe greyer hair,” your eyes looked all over him, lingering at the lower part of his face. “Older.”
You were a treat dangling in front of him and Jack was starved.
He licked at his lips. “Well, I don't think dads do this-”
Before you could question him, Jack took a risk and kissed you.
You welcomed him warmly, your lips soft and eager against his. Where he tried to take it slow, you let him. His hand spread across your back, drawing you in as his head tilted, nudging you to be closer, closer, closer. His tongue traced the bottom of your lip and you opened obedient, tongue hot as you fought his, gasping into his mouth.
He felt the twitch of himself in his trousers, the tightening around his crotch.
Your mouth was warm, tinged with the bitter beer you'd sipped and something sweet on your lip-gloss.
He dragged himself away to catch a breath that his whole body burned for. Your lips chased his, body leaning into his.
Your lip-gloss was smeared down your chin and Jack was all too happy to swipe his thumb and wipe it off, savouring the sticky-ness of it and slight shine on his thumb.
Jack dared take a look at the bar where the guy and his pals stood. His mouth was slightly agape at witnessing the kiss and Jack was all to keen to keep his eyes on him as he kissed you again.
Jack couldn't tell which one of you was more ravenous. If his hands were fumbling with your jean buttons with more need than your own was trailing under his shirt and tugging it over his head.
He thinks it might be him but if you wanted the title he'd give it to you gladly, eager to please.
He had you leant back on the sofa left only in your pretty pink bra, your legs thighs thrown over his shoulders as he feasted upon you, boxes you hadn't un-packed building your own kingdom around you. He was a devout solider upon his queen, if anything.
Your chest heaved in a breath you just couldn't catch, gasping in the pleassure he was drawing out. “J-Jack-”
If he thought your lip-gloss smeared down your chin was a sight your arousal slowly making a mess of his face as he licked into you was a new delight entirety.
He wanted your slick mess to slide down his chin, down the greying hairs of his chest and all the way down to where his cock stood at attention under his trousers.
Jack's hips were bucking, chasing any small friction in his denim. “You like that?” he asked, flicking the tip of his tongue into you.
“Yes, yes, I do.”
He puckers his lips and slurps up your arousal, fingers digging into your thighs and keeping them open, supporting you as your hips bucked up helplessly.
He looks up, the bliss on your face a small indicator of your end coming soon. Jack lets you come, coaxes it out of you with avid sucks and licks.
You came on his tongue on gasps of his name. He'd heard his name yelled before, heard it whispered in dying urgency. Heard it snapped in anger but nothing was better than the sweet call of his name from your lips, drunk on your first orgasm.
He crawled back up you once your body had started to calm. Jack pressed his mouth into your own, sharing the taste of yourself as his hands were skilful in sneaking around your back and un-clasping your bra.
You sighed into him at the freeing feeling and his hands cupped you at once, messaging your breasts.
Jack kissed at you, moaning at the softness he felt in the palm of his hands. “You're so-mmph- so fucking beautiful.”
You toss your hair over your shoulder and look down to him, bringing him back up with your hands on his cheeks, his stubble rubbing into the palm of your hands.
He licked into you, groaning at the taste of your mouth. At every taste of you it was new, like he'd forgotten what you tasted like before and it was the first time.
“Wanna-” he said, breathless pulling away. “Wanna kiss you all the time from now on.”
“Is that a promise?” you said, grinning and pecking his lips.
Jack smiled too, your teeth clashing as he nodded.
He let himself be led like a dog to your room. There was a mattress on the floor, a suitcase or two pressed up against the wall and a box left open. Jack wanted to peak inside, wanted to see what else was about you. He wanted to know everything.
Your lips promised more, more, more.
Jack's hands fell useless at his sides as he felt the brush of your knuckles go to his belt. He closed his eyes, letting you work. He heard the clatter of the belt whipped off and thrown aside carelessly. He bit down on his lip with a smile.
He only opened his eyes as he felt you tug off his jeans, the fabric catching at his prophetic.
You looked at it for a second before looking up at him.
He hadn't felt insecure about his leg in years. It knocked on his consciousness then, keen to enter. He couldn't think of what to say. “Urm- yeah-”
He was calmed when you slowly sank to your knees and kissed over the lingering scars there, your nails scraping down his thighs. His cock twitched happily in his boxers and you could see the excitement leaking from him early.
“Come here,” he said with a rumble of his voice.
You were up on your feet and he was kissing you again, holding your mouth open to just taste you. He pulled off his boxers, kicking them away before his hands traced up the sides of you.
“I have- I have condoms,” you said, hands pushing him away lightly. “Make yourself comfortable, soldier.”
Jack was glad you'd turned your back to fetch condoms you'd packed luckily in the easy and already open box in the corner of your room. It gave him time to ease himself down on the mattress and watch as you bent over to find the condoms.
He was shocked he wasn't tasting blood as he bit hard down on his lip. If he wasn't so desperate to feel your warmth around him he'd have given himself a little tug, but he was too scared he'd come too soon.
Settling comfortable on your mattress on the floor, Jack tugged on the condom and sat himself up to brush your hair back.
“Are you sure?” he asked.
You nodded and leant into kiss him.
Jack wrapped a light hand around you neck and urged you back, looking in your eyes. You knew what he wanted.
“Yes, Jack. I'm very, very sure.”
He smiled and was ready to move when you stopped him with hands on his thighs.
“Can I... I want to be on top.”
Was Jack supposed to say no to you? You may as well have asked him to build your mattress, un-back all your boxes, re-paint your walls. If you'd asked, he would have done anything for you at that moment.
When you gripped the base of his cock he held his breath. When his tip was pushed into you he exhaled with a loud groan.
“Ssh,” you laughed. “I don't want to get noise complaints from the neighbours already.”
Jack held onto your hips, supporting you. “Fuck your neighbours.”
He focused on the feel of you as you lowered yourself all the way, his cock stretching you open.
“Oh shhiiiit... god,” Jack gasped, seeing where you sat flush on his lap, the head of his cock twitching inside of you.
Your head was leant back, eyes screwed shut in pleasure.
“No- look at me, look at me,” he said, lifting his hand to pinch your chin and drag your gaze back down. You opened your eyes that had turned dark with desire. “Yeah, just like that. Keep your eyes on me.”
And you did as you leant back onto your hands, slowly dragging yourself from him and then back down, setting a pace you were comfortable with.
Jack let you take the lead, lying there and taking it with mutters of encouragement and groans of disbelief. He laid his hand upon the bottom of your stomach, almost being able to feel him inside you. That- or you were driving him crazy.
When the sound of skin on skin sounds you switch your tactic, leaning over him and grinding down.
Your eyes were fluttering in pleasure, your mouth left open. You were still trying so hard to keep your eyes on him just as he'd told you to. “Oh fuck, Jack, it's-it's too much.”
“No it's not, honey,” he coaxed, brushing back your hair and holding your cheek in hand. “You're being so good for me. Just a- just a little longer.”
You whined, walls fluttering around him and sucking him in.
Jack didn't know where he was finding the restraint not to come from. It had been a while for him, since he'd talked to someone as pretty as you, since he'd been in a bed that wasn't his. Since he'd had something other than his own hand to come onto.
Your grinding became un-stable, your thighs squeezing around him. “Jack, I think- I'm gonna come.”
He wrapped an arm around you and drew you in till you were held against his chest. The sweat against your bodies rubbed and mixed with the saliva shared between your mouths in kisses where you both fought for dominance.
At the angle of you pushed down on top of him his cock was deeper. He was so close to you, so close in more ways than one.
Jack groaned out your name, his cock twitching inside of you, begging to be released. “Come for me, honey... come for me-”
With a loud moan into his neck you let go around him, walls clamping down on him.
Jack let go of his restraint, planting his good foot on the mattress and thrusting up into you at an odd but delicious angle, once- twice! Before he came, slumping down on the mattress.
The both of you laid there, his hands brushing down your back and bringing out shivers.
“I have never come like that in my life,” he panted, catch his breath.
You looked at him. “What? On your back, on a mattress on the floor with boxes piled up. Or was I just that good?”
He hummed and pretended to think about it. “How about all the above?”
The both of you laughed.
Once you'd both used the bathroom and had returned to your room Jack was still naked while you'd thrown on his shirt, drowning in the smell and feel of him. He'd never wished he was younger and could get it up quicker than in that moment.
You fell back down on your mattress, nodding and inviting Jack to lie down next to you. To stay the night. So, it wasn't that kind of one night stand. Good. He wanted it to be an every night stand.
Jack got down on your mattress but resigned himself to the bottom, slowly pulling apart your legs, taking his time like he hadn't been able to bring himself to do out in your living room.
You propped yourself up on your elbows, looking down at him. “Jack, what are you doing?”
“Ssh,” he said, finding himself between your legs again. “We don't want noise complaints from the neighbours, already.”
Jack woke with his body like soup. His body was drifting in bliss, the sort one got after swimming all day, leaving limbs sleepy with exhaustion and the activities still sat in your bones.
His body ached with you. With the feel of your hands tugging at his hair as he had you coming on his tongue a second time, your hands on his chest as you moved on top of him.
He reached for you, finding an emptiness with nothing but the smell of you left on your pillows.
Jack inhaled sharply before he heard the shower turn off and door thrown open. A cloud of hot condensation and the scent of your shampoo hit him as you stepped out, wrapped in a towel.
Jack rolled over, peering at you through sleep. “Morning.”
“Hey. Sorry, I didn't mean to wake you, I was hoping to let you sleep in for... like, ten minutes,” you said.
“Don't worry about it. I'm an early riser,” he said, checking his phone for the time. Half six in the morning. It wasn't technically a lie. He was up at this hour, finishing his shift. “First day at the job today?”
“Yes, and I'm working with my dad so I cannot be late.”
Jack pushed himself up, finding his boxers. “You get ready. You want me to make some coffee? Providing you've un-packed it.”
You rose a brow, a smile tugging at the corner of your lips. “You trying to make a wife out of me, Jack?” you teased.
He smiled down at you when he stood, almost challenging.
“Coffee pots on the side, it was one of the first things I un-packed.”
Jack kissed your cheek before sleepily making his way through your place, manoeuvring with far less grace than lust had him moving the night before. He flicked on lights, started the coffee and took the extra couple minutes to peer into boxes that had been ripped open. There wasn't much, clothes, a couple trinkets and such. Text books that were so large and piled up he couldn't make one from the other.
He'd just caught a glimpse of you as a kid, hands in between two other people. One, a woman he assumed was your mother and the other he didn't get to see before he heard your trainers squeak on the floor and was backing up from the boxes.
He poured you a coffee and handed it to you, watching you take large gulps.
“Thanks. I'm sorry, I wouldn't usually do this but I really got to run,” you apologised.
“That's fine, I'll dress and I could give you a lift in?” he offered. “I'd really like to see you again.”
You smiled, cheeks popping. “Well, I'd really like that too. But you don't have to give me a lift in, I'll drive myself, otherwise I'd have no way of getting back.”
Jack was seconds away from offering to pick you up too. Any excuse to see you before he realised he was back on nights tonight. Would it even be plausible? To be able to spend more time with you?
He'd move heaven and earth to make it possible. He'd got his first sip of you and was addicted.
“Take your time,” you added. “Shower. Eat left over takeaway in my fridge. You can steal from me if you want but I warn you I have very little worth taking.”
Jack sighed playfully. “I'm sure I can think of something you'll miss. You have your phone?” he asked, holding out his hand.
You handed it to him, un-locking it first.
Jack typed in his number, adding his name as a contact and in brackets added- guy from bar/a good lay. Just in case you forgot. “You can call me when you want that tour of the place,” he said, as nonchalant as possible, wishing at once he'd slid his jeans on just to be able to slide his hands in the pockets.
You read what he saved himself as and laughed. “A good lay, you were a bit more than that, solider.” You slid your phone into your jacket pocket, hiding your inform or something underneath.
Jack smirked, leaning in. “Really?”
“Really.”
He leant in and kissed you. He wasn't forcing your mouth open, he wasn't grabbing at you although he wanted to do both. He knew, maybe more than most, the importance of getting to work on time. But he could almost imagine this was his life. Waking early to make you coffee and food, kissing you and sending you on the way to work. Coming home to find you waiting for him, his name laced on your lips.
“I really have to go,” you mumbled against his lips.
“Then go,” he said, kissing you again.
He walked you to the doors, quick kisses being shared, small touches he dared tempt himself with before you were fleeing, practically running away to not regret leaving.
Jack did take you up on your offer and had a very cold shower.
The rest of the day Jack thought about you, teased himself with you. He'd never felt so infatuated before. He returned to his place in the late afternoon after spending time just breathing your things in. His apartment felt shockingly empty, too neat even though Jack hadn't cleaned in a while. It didn't feel lived in, loved in. It was probably painfully obvious it was a bachelor pad.
However he didn't have to linger long. He showered again and dressed in scrubs, checking his phone once and finding a text from you.
I've been thinking, a good lay really doesn't cover it, a solid nine out of ten.
He smirked down at his phone, tutting.
Only a nine?
Your reply came almost instantly.
Well, there's always room for improvement.
I'll show you improvement. Maybe a nice dinner would get me to an 11/10?
Already got yourself a 9.5 solider :)
The smile that wasn't an emoji tugged at his heart strings.
Jack didn't know how he was supposed to take you to a dinner when he worked nights and your job was a day thing apparently but he'd work it out. You wouldn't have to worry a thing.
By the time he was clocking into work that evening he was so distracted in checking the best restaurants around (what had the best food, or the best views, which played nice music, which were expensive...) he was so distracted he didn't even notice he was in early.
“Brother!” Robby called, greeting him with a wide grin and hug.
Jack was slow in hugging him back. Hiding his phone in his back pocket from your texts before hugging him back, worry pulsing in his veins. A happy Robby always worried him. “Hey, you're cheerful.”
Robby pulled away, shrugging. “Yeah, I guess I am.”
“Nobody die today?”
“No, two people dead.”
Jack frowned. “And we're happy about that?”
Dana called his name from the nurses station, urging him over.
Robby's hand was steady with a firm grip as he led Jack over. “Glad you could make it in early, there's actually someone I want you to meet.”
“Someone, huh?” Jack wondered if Robby had finally decided to ditch his seven week itch thing and maybe try seven months, maybe even get to a famous seven years. Had he been waiting till it was serious to introduce him to the special woman?
“Picked them up from the airport yesterday while you covered my day, thank you.”
Jack had only just dropped his back at the counter when your name was called.
And suddenly there you were- glancing up at Robby in a way that gave no shock to hear him call you.
You looked at Robby then found Jack.
Scrubs. You were in black scrubs just like him, a navy top underneath. Your hair was scraped back from this morning, showing the expanse of your neck that he remembered nipping and licking the night before. Your eyes were plain, expression dropped as you stared at him, feet carrying you over to Robby on autopilot.
Jack watched as Robby's hand laid on your shoulder like it was always meant to be there.
And I'm working with my dad so I cannot be late.
Oh, god no.
“Jack, this is my daughter,” said Robby, saying your name with practised ease and a proud grin. “This is Jack Abbot, night attending. My best friend.”
the reason why Shawn said people would be suprised at how s3 of the Pitt starts because it begins with a one take scene from dennis’ perspective as he’s dressing up for work, after he has soaked jack’s face with his squirt and leaving the sleeping man blissed out and tucked in robby’s bed after a busy night shift.
we zoom out to see them on a phone’s camera feed, the chief attending looking down lazily and smiling at what he saw. he pull up his zipper as the subtle sound of a piss stream stopping (the first of five pissing scenes), get on the bike, pulls down his sunglasses, starts the vehicle and speeds back to pittsburgh as the series’ title transitions on screen.
the “yeahhhh” scream from csi:miami starts playing and we hard cut to the ptmc waiting room and begins episode 1.
always such a struggle when you get to the sex scene part of the fic you're writing and you're not horny at all. i don't know. their things were touching. without ANY underwear. the end.
frank langdon has a cheap black plastic headband in his nightstand and its sole purpose is to keep his hair out of his face so he can eat you out and maintain eye contact
there’s plenty of valid reasons to dislike generative AI being used to write fanfiction. one of my reasons that i don’t see around is that an enjoyable part of reading fanfiction is figuring out which part of the story is the author’s unique undisclosed fetish. you don’t get that with AI. the robots aren’t making subtle references to inflation or piss or inappropriate uses of gunshot wounds in the middle of a sex scene!