imagine sucking off hyperspermia!robby who is so incredibly turned on from the fact that, even though he'd warned you about the oceans of cum that fountain from his tip, you're eager to keep your mouth attached when he finally reaches his peak.
you're fighting his squirms with palms pressed into his parted thighs, and he nearly faints at the way you glide your tongue around him between every other swallow. robby just barely watches as you chug his seed without any second thoughts, his cock a pulsing, slicked, sensitive mess that can't find any way to stop.
the sight of your hollowed cheeks and and swollen lips, haul raspy curses from the very depths of his chest. the sounds try to form words but fall into slurred, breathless nothings.
when you hum around him, he nearly dies. still coming and trying to gasp for air as quietly as his body will let him. head bobbing, you let a few dribbles of cum slide from your lips until he's coated down to the base of his member, and the man jerks at the feeling of your hand cupping his sack.
you stay like that until he can't take it anymore. he's just barely able to slide himself from your mouth, lungs trying not to seize when you're still somehow hungry enough to lap lightly at him while he softens.
somewhere in all the thick fog and haze, robby finds enough sense to call out for you. his head readjusts against the pillows, sighing at the heat that crawls up his skin as you climb next to him, pecking at his chest.
"you still with me?"
a drunk smile pulls at one corner of robby's mouth. his throat bobs with a thick gulp. "not even close... told you you didn't have to do that... swallow it all."
you shrug with the hint of a smile, tucking yourself closer against his side as you rub a hand across his belly. "could tell you needed it. you were practically limping when you walked in the door. thought you were gonna start crying."
even though he doesn't have the energy to, robby manages a huffed laugh as he uses an arm to tug your face to his. he doesn't kiss you right away, choosing to stare instead. grip locking you close, robby's gaze settles onto your lips. the tip of his nose ghost over your cheek just before he presses as long snog against your mouth.
between lazy strokes of his tongue, the simple question comes out quiet. easy. "stay tonight? can take you back to yours in the morning. i'll even splurge on one'a those death drinks you like on the way..."
robby warms at the feeling of you grinning against him. "sandwich, too?"
Secret Admirer - Michael "Robby" Robinavitch x Reader
Summary: The prodigy nurse starts receiving little love notes. Who could it be?
Warnings: fluff, I wrote this under the influence of painkillers so be gentle! Sex, P in V, unprotected sex, hyperspermia!Robby, love notes. Minors please stay away, reader dont like coffe.
My body still ached after the last twelve-hour shift. My shoulders were tense and my back begged for a good massage. I prayed that today's shift wouldn't be as chaotic as yesterday's.
The waiting room seemed quieter than usual. There were no screaming patients or lines of people demanding to speak to the attending physician. Instead, just a calm silence, enough to hear the hum of the fluorescent lights.
"The calm before the storm, or has the end of times finally arrived?" I asked, balancing my bag and water bottle in one hand while trying to show my badge to security guard Marco. He laughed, scanning the semi-empty room.
"We've been like this since three in the morning… Dr. Abbot came to check the room four times before believing there weren't any new patients," Marco replied. "Even the air feels different… Calmer," he said, opening the door and holding it open for me to pass.
"You know that word is forbidden here… It attracts people!" I whispered as if it were a secret. Marco laughed, and I finally entered the ward.
The smell was standard: alcohol, disinfectant, coffee from the break room, and a touch of anxiety. My face made its usual grimace under the bright lights, making my eyes feel that fleeting pang of pain until they finally adjusted to the bright white light.
I gave a brief "hi" to Dana, who was at the central nursing station, furiously typing on a computer with an expression of intense concentration. Her blonde hair, normally tied in a perfect bun, had unruly strands that formed an angelic halo under the fluorescent light. "It's so…" I teased with a smile, seeing not only Dana looking at me almost threateningly, but everyone around, including the residents who were already starting their respective shifts.
"It's better not to finish the sentence, hon." - Dana said, placing a cup of coffee on the counter for me. It was from the coffee shop at the end of the street, the one where I always buy my tea and a treat. "Robby bougth coffe for everyonde today…" she took off her glasses and winked, unable to hide a smile on her lips.
"Why?" I asked, picking up the cup and removing the lid, seeing the black liquid that I secretly hate.
"Are you going to tell me you don't like coffee? Isn't it our obligatory drink?" Dr. Santos asked, leaning on the counter next to me. I could see the provocation in her eyes.
"Good morning to you too, Dr. Santos." I put the lid back on the travel mug and looked at her with the same provocation she had. "I hope you have a calm and slow shift today." My smile grew at the same speed that hers fell. Dana laughed, taking a sip of her own drink from her thermos.
"You're cruel." Santos replied with a small smile.
"I thought we weren't going to have our prodigy nurse today." I turned around, seeing Dr. Robinavitch leaning against the counter behind me. He was wearing a dark green jacket that made those empathetic brown eyes look even more beautiful.
"Dr. Robinavitch, good morning." I said with a small smile, not seeing either Dana or Santos move away from the conversation. "I just arrived… You won't get rid of me that easily." I teased, seeing him smile and take a step closer to me. For a moment, my body froze, and I thought he was going to hug me, but of course, Robby just wanted the tablet behind me.
"I don't intend to ever get rid of you. " Robby said in a new tone. It wasn't the same one he used to give patient updates or the typical conversations between procedures and appointments. It was almost intimate, and it made a certain warmth rise in my cheeks. "And I already told you to call me Robby."
"I'm going… I'm going to put my things away and I'll be right back… Oh! And thank you for the coffe!" I murmured, balancing my bottle, bag, and coffee in my hands before heading for the lockers.
The hallway with the lockers always had a single light that flickered every second; it was quiet and calm (very different from any other area of the emergency room). There I had a little time to think about my brief interaction with Dr. Robby. It was a cliché how much I liked him.
A nurse falling in love with a doctor, it seemed like a script for a silly Netflix romance movie.
I pushed my foolish thoughts to the back of my mind; this wasn't the place to think about that. I needed to focus on my work; put my things in my locker and do what I came here to do.
There were three rows of beige metal lockers; mine was the top one, B, whose electronic lock always required me to press the last combination with double the force and then click 00, otherwise it wouldn't open at all.
I did it my usual way. Typing the numbers almost automatically, without looking anywhere else but at the keyboard. 11-20-01+00 I typed and the cupboard opened. I placed the still-untouched coffee bottle and cup inside so I could get what I needed from my bag before turning it around, putting the bag back in the cupboard, and getting the coffee bottle and cup. Before closing the cupboard, I mentally debated what I should do with the coffee.
It's not that I don't like it...
The truth is that I detest coffee, I hate how the bitterness makes my tongue feel like it's tying itself in a knot. I hate how it's always too hot, as if just to disguise the burnt taste. I've always hated it; my morning drink has always been a delicious tea.
But I wasn't going to just throw the coffee in the trash, especially knowing someone bought it for me. With a sigh, I decided to do what most nurses do: I downed the cup of coffee in one go.
Did I burn my mouth? Yes.
Did the bitterness make my tongue feel like it's tying itself in knots? Yes.
Did I regret it? Yes.
But at least the coffee was finished, and I didn't waste a cup or disrespect a gift. I threw the cup in the trash can next to the lockers before finally closing the metal door. That's when I realized.
Stuck to the metal surface, right in the middle of the door, was a pink square. A Post-it note. Fresh, the edges still perfectly defined, the glue still looking strong.
My first thought was of administrative annoyance. Some notice from management? A new rule about uniforms, a canceled meeting? But no, the notices were always printed, posted on the break room bulletin board, and sent by email. Nobody stuck anything on the individual lockers.
I looked around. The hallway was deserted. The distant sound of a call bell came muffled. I turned my attention back to the paper. Maybe it was a mistake. There were a dozen identical lockers. Someone, in a hurry or distracted, might have accidentally stuck it on mine. Perhaps it was a message for Perlah, who had locker A above, or Princess, who was right next to it, C above.
With a care that felt disproportionate, I pulled the top corner of the paper. The glue came off with a low, satisfying sound. The front was blank, well, technically the light pink color of the paper. But on the back, just below the adhesive strip, there was writing.
The handwriting was peculiar. It wasn't fluid cursive, nor impersonal block letters. It was a mixture: some letters were printed with precise angles, others had almost antiquated turns and curves. It looked like handwriting someone would have practiced centuries ago, but executed with a speed that made it difficult to understand what had been written. But after a while of deciphering, I could finally read it.
And the message, a single line:
"Your laughter is one of the reasons I keep coming back here."
The air seemed to leave my lungs. It wasn't a warning from management. It wasn't a mistake. It was… a compliment. A deeply personal and observant compliment. My laughter? I laughed at work, of course. To calm nervous patients, to share relief with colleagues after a tense case, sometimes at a joke someone told. But I never thought anyone could actually notice it, much less that it was so important to anyone.
A wave of heat rose from my chest to my face, flooding my cheeks with a blush that I felt was visible even to those who weren't there. It was a silly, adolescent feeling, completely inappropriate for a thirty-two-year-old nurse about to start a twelve-hour shift. Yet, there it was. A stupid, involuntary smile stretched across my lips. I read the sentence again. And again.
It wasn't signed. There were no clues. Just that strange handwriting and those words that seemed whispered directly in my ear.
Dana's voice echoed down the hallway, brusque and professional, dispelling the spell.
"Hey? Have you packed your things yet? We have three trauma patients arriving, we need you!"
My body jumped, my heart raced with fright, as if I'd been caught doing something forbidden. The Post-it note felt like it was burning in my hand. I folded it and stuffed it into the front pocket of my scrubs, where it would lie flat and hidden over my heart.
Professional instinct took over. The paper, the blush, the silly smile, everything receded into a distant corner of my mind.
"I'll help prepare the trauma room," I replied, my voice already firm, already in work mode. I passed Dana, who was still at the entrance to the hallway.
"What was that?" she asked, walking quickly beside me while I adjusted the stethoscope around my neck.
"What?"
"In your hand. You were reading something."
"Nothing. Just a reminder," I lied, surprised at how easily the lie came out. Why was I hiding it? It didn't make sense.
The next few hours were a whirlwind of controlled chaos. Ambulances arrived with shrill sirens that shattered the unnatural calm of the hospital. The three patients were brought in, one after the other, on stretchers rushing through the corridors. The smell of blood, sweat, and fuel mingled with the antiseptic. The screams returned, but now they were shouts of orders, of vital signs being announced, of the shrill sound of the monitors.
The adrenaline of the trauma washed over my system, leaving behind only metallic exhaustion and the subtle satisfaction of a job well done. The three patients were stable, two already transferred to the ICU and one awaiting orthopedic surgery. As I washed the last bloodstains from my arms in the sink in the nursing station, the sensation of the folded paper in my scrub pocket throbbed again, like a second skin, a warm secret against my chest.
I had lied to Dana. And the fact that I had lied so easily disturbed me more than the note itself. Why hide it? Perhaps because that message was an oasis of sweetness in a desert of chaos and pain. Perhaps because, deep down, I feared that, exposed to the cruel sunlight of fluorescent lights and the typical cynicism of Postal Service, it would disintegrate, revealing itself as a cruel prank by someone bored.
I dried my hands with a rough paper towel. The Post-it note was real. I could feel it. Before I could think better, I carefully removed it from my pocket, as if it were a fragile artifact. The hallway to the laundry room was empty. I unfolded the crumpled paper and read it again, more slowly.
"Your laughter is one of the reasons I keep coming back here."
The handwriting was really strange. The “Y” in "yours" was an elaborate curve, almost a monogram. The “R” in “return" was pointed, decisive. It wasn't anyone's handwriting I could remember, but it wasn't like we passed notes back and forth either. Especially not there, where everything was done by tablets and computers.
I folded the paper again and put it in my scrub pocket, in a smaller, more secure zipper. I decided not to tell anyone. At least not yet. I treated it as a fortuitous find, a small private mystery to feed on during rare moments of quiet.
But the mystery wasn't intended to remain private for long.
The next morning, there was another one in my locker. This time, vibrant yellow.
My heart pounded against my ribs. I quickly looked around. The hallway was deserted, the muffled sound of a radio playing from the break room. I pulled out the paper. The same difficult handwriting, the same pen ink. But a new note:
"The way you whisper to frightened children calms even the storms inside me."
I gasped. This was specific. Time-specific. At the end of yesterday's shift, I had calmed a seven-year-old girl with a fractured arm, humming a children's song softly as we prepared her for the X-ray.
A wave of discomfort mingled with the sweetness. This was no longer just a vague compliment. It was observation. It was attention. Someone was watching me. At work. And that should be frightening. But, inexplicably, it wasn't. The words were too gentle, too vulnerable. They felt genuine. I kept them in the same zippered pocket, my secret now folded in two layers.
The notes continued. On every shift, there they were. Always in my locker. Always with the same enigmatic handwriting. Always capturing a specific moment, always with a compliment that left me speechless.
"The sparkle in your eyes outshines even the brightest lamp here," written on a light green Post-it note.
"Your smile inspires me every day," came from a blue Post-it note.
"I think I'm falling more and more in love with you," on a red heart-shaped Post-it note.
"I don't know what I would do if you weren't here," on an orange Post-it note.
"You are my first and last thought of each day," the pink paper said.
"My therapist said I need to take a risk and confess who I am soon… But I'm afraid of what will happen," a confession from a bluish paper.
Each note was a seed. And they began to sprout inside me, fueling a curiosity that quickly turned into an obsession. I found myself searching for lingering gazes, shy smiles, anyone who seemed to pay more attention than usual. I rummaged through my colleagues in my mind.
Dr. Abbot? Impossible. I was sure he and Samira were in a relationship.
Marco, the security guard? Kind, but our interaction never went beyond greetings and jokes about the "forbidden word."
One of the residents? Maybe. There were many, young and tired faces. But the notes didn't have the tone of a youthful flirtation. They had a depth, a maturity.
My heart leaped with a silly thought. Who knows, it could be Robby? I even laughed at how unreal it was. Of course, Dr. Robinavitch wouldn't write silly notes…
The obsession began to affect my work. I found myself distracted during procedures, my eyes scanning the hallway for a figure near my locker. I started arriving earlier and leaving later, hoping to catch the culprit red-handed. Nothing.
Finally, I couldn't take it anymore. The need to unravel the mystery overcame the allure. And I decided to investigate in another way. Dana was the one who had eyes and ears everywhere; she would certainly know.
"Dana…" I whispered, leaning against the counter and taking advantage of a quiet moment in the ER. "Have you… received anything strange? In your locker, maybe?" She raised an eyebrow, taking off her glasses and hiding a smile. She glanced to the side, having a long conversation with Perlah and Princess right there.
"Strange how? Dead cockroaches? Anonymous love notes? " She laughed, and I heard a whisper behind me. I decided to ignore the gossip that was about to happen. That's why I hadn't told anyone anything.
"Not cockroaches." I replied, trying to sound casual. "More like… Post-it's?"
"Post-it's? What were written on them?" There was no escaping it, they were indeed anonymous love notes, and the gossip would spread throughout the entire department.
"Nothing… Never mind" I tried to deflect, but Perlah and Princess cornered me, joining the conversation.
"Oh no, girl, we need to know." Perlah spoke, but I felt she already knew everything.
"Definitely… Who do you think left them?" Princess asked, and now I knew that maybe the whole hospital already knew.
"I-I don't know." I said with a slight blush, putting my hand in my pocket and pulling out the most recent note. Simpler, but still with the same intensity as before.
"I can't stop thinking about you…" right below was a drawing, as poorly done as the handwriting, but I suspected it was a heart.
"He really is romantic." Princess said, reading over my shoulder.
"He? How do you know it's a man? Do you know who it is?" I asked, already suspicious, and the suspicion only worsened when Perlah spoke to her in a private conversation protected by the simple fact that I didn't know Tagalog.
"What are they gossiping about now? " Dr. Mohan asked, approaching with a sympathetic smile.
"Oh, nothing."
"She's been receiving letters from a secret admirer…" Dana answered for the woman, earning a look as if she were receiving a silent scolding.
"They're not letters, they're… Post-it notes." I clarified, pointing to Dana, who just laughed as if I were a child stomping my foot.
"Do you already know who it is?" Dr. Mohan seemed overly excited, as if she were watching a movie.
"She has no idea." Dana answered, and the doctor laughed, biting her own lip to contain her excitement.
"You guys know something, don't you?" I asked, putting the note back in my pocket just in time for another person to join the conversation.
"What are you talking about here?" Robby's voice made me jump, which Dana and Mohan seemed to find funny.
"Nothing… Just idle chatter. " I replied, ignoring the laughter of Perlah, Princess, and of course, Dr. Santos joined them.
"Our golden girl has a secret admirer, do you know anything about it, Robby?" Dana teased, and I was so embarrassed that I let my face fall into my hands.
"No. Nothing." Robby replied, probably regretting joining the conversation. I just… came to get the tablet and… and I'm leaving now. Good luck with your… your secret admirer" he said, his voice also heavy with secondhand embarrassment.
"This is the last time I'm going to talk to you all!" I said, pointing at Dana, then Perlah, Princess, Dr. Santos, and Mohan.
"Tomorrow is Valentine's Day, who knows, maybe your admirer will reveal himself by then?" Mohan said hopefully, but my only response was an embarrassed groan at the whole situation before going to do something else.
At the end of my shift, I made a point of trying to delay going home as much as possible. Not that I didn't want to go home quickly and throw myself into bed and only get up in the morning, but for two main reasons. First, I didn't want to run into anyone else, I didn't want to hear Perlah and Princess gossiping about me. And second, I still had hopes of catching whoever was leaving the love notes.
"What are you still doing here? I thought your shift was during the day." Dr. Abbot's voice made me jump in place. I was so focused on staying hidden behind the hallway, just watching the lockers, that I didn't see him approaching me.
"Dr. Abbot!!! Jesus, I didn't think you'd be so startled." He immediately placed his hands on my shoulder while I tried to calm my racing heart.
"Do I need to get the crash cart?" he joked with an empathetic smile.
"No… I just wasn't expecting anyone." I replied, smiling, already feeling my heart calming down.
"I saw." He laughed. "What are you doing here? Wasn't your shift earlier today? Are you going to do a double shift today? " he asked again, heading towards his locker and putting his things there.
"Oh no! No offense, but no double shifts today." I replied, looking at my sneakers on the floor as if they were an interesting object.
"Wow, I thought I was finally going to see what Robby talks so much about his prodigy nurse." he said, and I immediately felt my cheeks turn red. I had no idea that Robby talked about me, or rather, bragged about me. It was good, it made my silly crush grow a little.
"Oh, I didn't…"
"Did you know he's always talking about you?" Jack spoke, closing the locker and putting his stethoscope around his neck.
"Jack!" a new voice made me turn around. Dr. Mohan, with her arms crossed as if she shouldn't say anything. Dr. Abbot shut her mouth instantly. I didn't even know she was going to work a double shift today.
"I have to go." Abbot said, not convincing even himself.
I sighed, not knowing what else to say, giving way to Dr. Abbot. I saw the way Mohan gave him a small tap on the back of the neck; I didn't know she was so jealous.
With no more reason to stay there, I decided to go home. But as soon as I turned to my locker, there it was, as if mocking me, a new note.
"What!?" the only moment I was distracted was when Dr. Abbot arrived. And it seems that was enough.
I picked up the note, seeing that it was no longer just another post-it note with a loving phrase, but an envelope.
My name was written on the front, in that same handwriting now so familiar and so dear.
With trembling hands, I opened the envelope. Inside, a card made of recycled paper:
“Behind every line I wrote to you there is a suppressed smile, a fleeting glance, a heart beating faster in my chest. Watching you has been my most beautiful diagnosis, and the verdict is irrevocable: I am completely surrendered.
If you are willing to meet the face behind the words, have dinner with me. Tomorrow, at 8 pm, at "La Cucina". You always mentioned wanting to try the lasagna there.
I reserved a table in your name.
With the deepest admiration,
Your secret admirer.”
The world around me stopped. The hum of the lights, the distant sounds of the hospital, everything disappeared. La Cucina. It was a small, authentic Italian restaurant in the city center, expensive and with months-long waiting lists for reservations. I had mentioned my desire to go there only once, in a rant to Dana about never having time for a decent social life.
Whoever he was, he heard. And he remembered.
My heart felt like it was going to burst out of my chest. It was terrifying. It was wonderful. It was real. Someone real wanted to meet me.
I thought about not going. I thought it might be an elaborate trap, a bad joke that would end with me alone in an expensive restaurant, humiliated. But the words on the notes… They didn't lie. I felt they didn't. I hoped they didn't.
The next day, the shift was calm as if the universe had given its blessing. I asked Anna, one of the night nurses, to cover for me during the last hour of my shift, giving me more time to get ready.
I took a long shower, one of those where you stay in the hot water so long you have to sit down. It had been so long since I'd been on a date that my reflection in the mirror looked strange. I'd spent so much time in scrubs and Crocs that I'd forgotten what I looked like when I had the freedom to dress the way I wanted.
I was nervous, but there was also a solid determination within me. I needed to know who my secret admirer was.
The restaurant was quiet, which was strange considering it was Valentine's Day. Normally this place would be packed.
There was indeed a table reserved in my name, one in the quietest corner they had, next to a large window overlooking the street outside. The light was low, the tablecloth was perfectly white. The air was the purest aroma of an Italian kitchen. Garlic, basil, wine, sauce, spices…
I waited a few minutes; I'd arrived a little early, so I had extra time to get anxious. At some point, I opened my bag and took out one of the notes he'd left in my locker, reading and rereading those words as if they were a sedative. That is, until a cough made me realize I wasn't alone anymore. I looked up and saw who was there. Dr. Robinavitch, Robby. Without his scrubs or that tracksuit he always wore. This time, he was wearing a greenish blazer over a dark shirt with the collar open enough to see the silver chain around his neck. He seemed nervous, his eyes, normally calm and professional, were burning with an intensity that made me stop breathing for a few seconds.
For an eternity, we just stared at each other. All my confusion, all my frustrated investigation, all the crazy theories crumbled, leaving only one simple and overwhelming truth: it was him.
"Robby…" my voice came out as a hoarse whisper. A shy smile touched his lips.
"Surprised?" he took a step forward and handed me the flowers. My favorites. "I hope you're not disappointed at least." I should say something soon, from his look, it seemed like I was breaking his heart just with the silence.
"No!" I said quickly, standing up and taking the beautiful flowers from his hands. "I'm not disappointed." now my voice came out a little calmer. "I'm… Surprised." I smiled weakly, looking at the flowers. Robby smiled more relieved, pointing to the table. He pulled out the chair so I could sit before sitting down in front of me. "Why didn't you just ask me out?" I saw a blush rising on his cheeks.
"I… I was scared." his fingers nervously playing with the fork. "I tried to ask you out before but I don't think I was clear enough." I frowned, trying to remember when that might have happened.
"Are you talking about that time with the ice cream?" It was in the middle of last summer, we had just finished our shift and there was an ice cream vendor in the park right across from the hospital. It was a hot day, one of those days where even the air conditioning wasn't good, which was particularly strange for the region. Robby asked me if I wanted an ice cream and I accepted, before asking Dana and Perlah if they wanted one too. He nodded and I couldn't help but laugh, not because it was a failed date attempt, but because I had been too naive.
"That was bad, wasn't it?" he asked with a laugh.
"To be fair, I really had no idea you were asking me out. " I tried to soften the blow, but he laughed a little harder, showing his beautiful age marks.
"Luckily, I had help this time." he said, blushing slightly.
"Help?"
"Dr. Mohan and Jack…" now it made sense how the note appeared in my locker yesterday. "Samira caught me looking at you once and described it as "pathetically in love" to Abbot. " I couldn't hide my laughter when I heard him say that. Apparently, Robby wasn't offended since he just smiled. "she said the notes would be romantic… But to be honest, I thought you'd figure out who it was from the first note." I made a confused face. "My handwriting?"
"Oh!" I laughed a little louder. "Really, you need calligraphy lessons, Robby. " I joked.
"So… you're not mad? Don't you think it's creepy, or weird?" he asked a little shyly.
"I thought so." I admitted, wiping the corner of my eye. "At first, I thought about calling security." He smiled shyly. "But the notes… They were so beautiful, Robby. Nobody ever said things like that about me. I… I ended up falling in love with the person who wrote them." The relief that spread across his face was palpable; he slid one of his hands to mine on the table, touching mine tenderly.
The dinner that followed was magical. The food was divine, but I barely noticed it. We talked for hours. Not about patients, protocols, or shifts. We talked about books, trips we dreamed of taking, our families, our simplest fears. I discovered he played guitar (badly, according to him), that he was afraid of heights, and that he dreamed of one day opening a community clinic. He discovered things about me that I had never told anyone.
His professional mask fell away. He was no longer Dr. Robinavitch, the head attending physician in the ER.
He was Robby, clumsy, funny, intelligent, charming, and handsome. And I was no longer the prodigy nurse; I was just me, laughing, blushing, feeling more alive than I had in years.
When the waiter brought the bill, a heavy silence hung over us. I didn't want the night to end. "I… I live near here," I said, surprising myself. "If you'd like, we could… We could have tea to end the evening?"
"I'd love to," he agreed, opening the restaurant door and guiding me outside with one hand on my lower back. Then, his hand rested on mine, as if it were something we'd always done.
The drive to my apartment was silent, but it was a comfortable silence, filled with sweet tension. Inside, Bobba, my dear, grumpy cat—whom I'd warned Robby was aggressive towards strangers—greeted us with a loud meow. Robby petted him, and the traitor immediately began to purr.
I made tea, my hands a little shaky. As we sat on the sofa, the warm cup in my hands, the reality of what was about to happen began to wash over me. We were alone. Outside the hospital. And the attraction I'd always felt for him, amplified by the notes and the perfect night, was an electric current in the air.
"Tonight was…" he began, placing his cup on the coffee table.
"Perfect," I finished in a whisper.
We looked at each other. And then, there was no need for words. He leaned in, and I met him halfway. The first kiss was soft, a question. The second was deeper, an answer. It was everything I had imagined and more: sweet, insistent, full of a repressed passion that now found its escape valve.
One thing led to another. The teacups were forgotten, cooling on the table. While things heated up in my room.
Robby was already half-undressed, his blazer and shirt discarded in the air, as well as his pants. My clothes had the same fate, but the big difference was that Robby had taken off my panties minutes before, replacing them with his own mouth.
"Michael!" I moaned, burying my head in the pillows as Robby's tongue did something otherworldly to my body.
The texture of his beard burned the middle of my thighs with a delicious sensation. His strong, precise hands forced my legs apart, allowing his face perfect access to my body. His tongue seemed to know exactly what to do, alternating between licking my clitoris and teasing my body.
During my second orgasm, Robby finally moved his hands, using two of his fingers to penetrate me. His mouth remained on my clitoris, sucking and licking while his fingers moved in perfect rhythm.
"Mikey! Oh God!"
"I need to prepare you a little more, my love… Just a little more," he said between a brief pause of orgasm before returning to devour me as if I were a delicious dessert.
Robby made me come again, and again before moving, carefully removing his fingers and putting them in his own mouth. The orange light of the lamp in my room made his beard gleam with my orgasm. Those dark eyes, full of lust and yet something delicate like affection.
"I need you, Mikey… Please…" I wrapped my legs around his waist, clearly understanding why he needed to prepare me. Robby was definitely not small… Nor average-sized.
"I love hearing you call me… I love it even more when you beg for me," he murmured, kissing my neck. My body shivered at the roughness of his beard.
"Please, Mikey! Please…" I murmured, running my hand across his chest and down, feeling his muscles contract under my touch.
"I… I need to tell you something before…"
"What?" My head raced with everything. From wondering if he was actually single to whether he had some kind of venereal disease. I could rule out needing Viagra since it was quite clear he was aroused.
"When I come… It's a lot."
"Then do it inside me, Mikey…" I said, pulling him into a kiss while pulling his underwear aside.
"Are you sure?" he asked between kisses.
"Please, Mikey," I pleaded one last time, and that was enough to convince him.
In the first second, I thanked him for preparing me beforehand. He was very easy to handle all at once, but little by little, Robby was finally completely inside me in a delicious sensation of total fulfillment.
With the first movements, I was already seeing stars, clinging to Robby with my whole body. And he did the same.
His hands gripped my hips, giving him more leverage, or they took turns holding mine in a tender gesture.
In a short time, my body yielded in a new orgasm, and Robby didn't lag behind. I felt the way he pulsed inside me, without stopping or pausing. They were hot jets of pure pleasure that completely painted my insides. There I understood what he meant minutes before.
Robby took a few seconds to stop completely, and when he finally did, his body collapsed on top of mine almost like a blanket enveloping me entirely. Robby mumbled an excuse that I immediately rejected and kissed him until any insecurity disappeared.
We stayed in that embrace and exchange of affection for long enough for both of us to recover. And of course, the night only ended after a long, hot bath together before falling into bed with clean sheets. Robby slept with his arms wrapped around my body, and so did I, hiding my face between his neck and shoulder.
The morning light entered the room softly, waking me. Robby was still sleeping soundly beside me, his features relaxed, a peace on his face that I had never seen in the hospital. I sat up in bed, watching him for a moment, a silly smile plastered on my face. It was real. Everything was real.
Despite both of us having to go to the hospital to work a long shift, neither of us could hide our smiles, nor the subtle touches, much less our glances. We couldn't help but smile, even with the subtle teasing.
And finally, when Robby handed over the shift to Jack, I went to my locker, discovering a new note there:
"Waking up next to you is something I want to do every day." It was written in the same handwriting as before, but now it wasn't a secret anymore since it had an "M" signed at the end.
A smile bloomed on my face before I could stop it. Two arms went around my waist and a mouth surrounded by beard left a kiss on my neck.
"Ready to go?" he asked as if nothing had happened.
"Ready… Want to get ice cream?" he laughed, but accepted.
The notes didn't stop. Neither did the kisses or the romance.
It wasn't a surprise when the ring came, much less when the positive test appeared (and due to Robby's condition, they both agreed it took longer than they expected).
So like hyperspermia!Robby right? I got thoughts and THOTS. And have re-read all the things so many times. Always excited for more.
Like imagine being out on a date night and reader can feel him dripping outta her. He just couldn’t help himself after seeing her outfit and yes they almost missed their reservation. And reader just teasing him about the mess he made between waiter visits and courses. How she so wet bc of him. How next time he needs to plug her up. How he’s gonna clean his mess up when they get home (just go again). And he’s just so red, squirming and begging to go home and readers just teasing him enjoying being in charge for a while he’s losing his marbles. (And yes he does clean her up enthusiastically 😉)
I would love love LOVE your thoughts/thots/anything to help feed this hyperspermia!Robby brain rot of mind 🖤
Oh fuuuuuuuuck this is so hot this is everythingggg
He’s so embarrassed as if he wasn’t the one wo nearly ripped your dress in half and came inside you for nearly a good minute and filled you up in the first thirty seconds and kept going and going until it started dripping out of you
So after dinner he fucks you again, makes you ride him and you make a MESS on him and his tummy because his cum pours out of you while you bounce on his dick and when he comes again everything is so hot and sticky and he loves how it looks😵💫😵💫😵💫
hyperspermia anon here - the amount of pride (?) i feel spreading the message of Robby’s massive loads is a little insane?
and you really just give life to the vision. i could read a novels worth of this.
(do you think about how if you and Robby had sex outside the house like maybe in a bar bathroom Robby would have to put a towel down in his truck for the ride home so you don’t leak all over the leather? bc i have a bit of a thing for the thought of him being just a little condescending about it. “pretty girl you begged me to fuck you in the bar before we left and I just had the truck detailed”)
i am so sorry
never EVER apologize for anything hyperspermia!anon <3
internally, he's so fucking smug about it. absolutely loving that he can see his cum dripping down your legs as he walks with you in the parking lot. the look on your face when he pulls the towel out of the glove compartment makes it that much better, robby pecking you lips then turning to set the cloth down this whole thing is normal.
you take the land he offers with rolling eyes, feeling the slick between your legs as you climb into his truck. he only gets a few minutes from the bar when you decide you've had enough.
it doesn't take him long to notice, the fingers you dig between your legs catching robby's attention faster than the speed of light. as you scoop out some of the cum and slide your fingers against your tongue, his grip around the steering wheel tightens. you moan at the taste of him, but your attempt to go back for seconds if interrupted by robby grabbing your arm.
"don't be greedy..." he rasps out, finally glancing over at you now that he's stopped at a red light.
you blink back at him, using your other hand to reach into you slit and gather the wet. the man's ire melts into pleasant surprise when you float the fingers to his lips instead, and he groans when you stuff them into his mouth before sucking them clean.
the light turns green and robby zooms the vehicle ahead, needing to get home so he can plop you on the counter and finish cleaning you out the right way–with his mouth glued to your pussy, licking until you're swiping his face away. good and spent.
(inspired by @oldermenfucker) sometimes hyperspermia!robby will just... he'll just keep fucking you.
it doesn't matter that his back is aching because you squeezing around him feels one thousand times better. he's spilled into you three times now–wait. actually, maybe four? he's breathing too hard to remember completely, and you're so full of his cum that his dick feels likes it's swimming in a sea of wet and warm.
he's collapsed on top of you at this point. smothering your body and clutching your figure like this was the last time he was going to see you.
"robby, fuck..." you croaking sob trails of into a few tears, which robby rubs away with his thumb and a kiss to your forehead as he keeps at the steady pace he's grinding into you with. thick and stretching you so wide that you feel like you're going to split open if he manages to drag another orgasm from you. with a lulling head, a you feel more tears well as robby's tip feels like it's reaching a new record inside you. "s-so big–ah–shit, i can't..."
holding you cheek, robby tries to shush your slurred whines with another kiss. you keep sounding off anyways, the words leaving you even more mushed together and tearful than before.
"i know, baby–jesus–i know. 'm almost done, i promise. doin' so good for me. taking me nice 'n deep, aren't you? hey. hey, look at me. right here."
blinking to focus your vision, you drag your stare to robby's. his brown eyes bore into you, forehead pressing against your's as your noses bump. the gaze he emits glazed with pride yet hooded with a drunk amount of fervid satisfaction.
after a few more thrusts, your intertwined stares cause robby to come again, flooding the flood. he groans and huffs with slight wheezes, legs shaking just as bad as yours while keeping his eyes on you the entire time. letting your hole milk and guide him through the peaks that pools tears in his own eyes.
when he finished, robby uses the last of his energy to peek down in between the two of you. a groan grates out of him at the complete and utter mess of cum and slick dousing where he's still half buried inside you. sliding the rest of the way you out, you whimper as your entrance leaks and leaks with the mixture of him and yourself, lips puffy and swollen and pulsing.
slumping back against you, robby covers your face in tired kisses. he spends a few extra seconds tasting the salty result of your blubbering. storing the flavor and sight of you staring up at him with wet lashes into his deepest memories.
thinking ab hyperspermia robby and him jerking off or smth and you walk in the middle of him coming and he tries to stop in time…but he just keeps coming and keeps coming… anywho
anon, i need you to understand how any times i've read this, then put my phone down to take a walk... get some air... touch some grass.
robby was supposed to be waiting on you. at least, that's what he’d promised you he’d do as you drove to his place, listening to him whine about how full his balls felt after not being able to fuck you for a handful of days. your shift schedule–stupidly busy and just as unforgiving as his–had gotten in the way of you helping empty him the way he likes. and it’s killing the man.
that’s why you give him some grace… not much but some when you find him jerking himself into a towel at the edge of his bed. you watch him, stuck in your place as he groans with shaky thighs, stare flying to yours as where he reddens with another tight grunt.
“sorry–fuck. sorry, couldn’t wait,” robby damn near whimpers, shoulders tight as he spills a round of lengthy ropes into the fabric he’s holding. face scrunching, he clenches his stomach and tries to stop his head from leaking but it’s no use. “ah.. ah, ‘m trying but it–jesus–it doesn’t wanna quit. better get over here before i’m all out.”
you almost laugh at him because yeah, right.
stepping over, you yank the towel away with one hand and interrupt his desperate rub with the other. cupping your tongue just under his tip and tugging him with wet strokes, your own center starts to throb at the wail robby collapses back onto his bed with. his seed packs your tongue, and you swallow it all before sucking him into your mouth and groaning at how he keeps pouring cum… balls still swollen and telling you you’re both in for a long night.
“might not need dinner at this rate,” you mumble, mouth full and still gulping.
even in his shaky and dazed state, robby wheezes out a tired belly laugh at your words.
he’s addictiveee. shout out to the hyperspermia!robby anon for being the first to bringing him to life :) have been thinking about him since i posted so expect more stuff soon in honor of hyperspermia!anon
