I’ve seen a lot of obsessive!/dark! Robby…and I just wanted to flip the switch a little for international women’s day. - thanks to @applehorror for the inspo as well as @lauraneedstochill for that amazing horror Robby story a couple weeks ago.
Warnings: drugging, kidnapping, non consensual touching while sleeping (is that still somno if they’re drugged?), psycho reader.
W/C - 1,431
You overheard the interaction with Robby and Jack. You saw the lack of emotion In Robby’s eyes when he refused to answer Jack about whether he was coming back. That wouldn’t work for you. It was hard enough wrestling with the idea of him leaving your orbit for 3 months. The idea of him leaving this earth? It sparked something in your chest. You didn’t think. You moved.
The rest of the day passed by with chaos barely bridled by crumbling cohesion and the day shift was….exhausted. Most people had hoped that Robby would at least sleep off his shift before leaving on a cross country motorcycle trip. You knew different.
You approached him in the locker room with a soft smile, looking up through your lashes.
“Hey boss! Can I ask a quick favor before you leave?” Your voice dripping with honey.
“What’s that?” He answers with a kind smile.
“Could you just follow me home on your bike like you did last week? My car is making that sound again…and I know the interstate is out that way anyway…I was just hoping-“
“Of course…that’s not an issue, you know that” he cuts you off, holding to quell any anxiety. You smile widely up at him and gently grab his bicep, squeezing in appreciation. “Thank you, Michael”.
When he pulled up behind you in your driveway, he put the kickstand down and took his helmet off-the helmet he was clearly only wearing because he knew you could see him. You approached him after parking your car to give him a hug. He barely felt the needle.
Living in a older suburban neighborhood had it’s advantages. The cul de sac your house sat on was hidden to the side. Your neighbors were an elderly couple and a 5 acre field with a reservoir for the local communities water.
You had to admit, rolling Robby’s dead weight onto the tarp was easier than you had thought. Getting him up the stairs from your garage into your kitchen? That proved to be more difficult.
Eventually, you had to tie a bed sheet around his ankles and drag him feet first up the 3 steps.
Getting him in the bed of the guest room was….interesting. You had managed to get him in your office chair so you could roll him down the hallway of your one story cottage. For lack of a better plan, you all but dumped him on the mattress. He flopped unceremoniously, cheek first and left out a soft grumble.
You left him there briefly so you could run back outside and roll his bike into your garage and close the garage door.
You undressed him of his jacket, socks and shoes and then stopped. Should you? Where’s the line here? You already drugged the man…you might as well get him out of his dirty scrubs, right? It still felt like you were pushing a boundary. You snorted at yourself…yeah…right.
You took your time sliding his scrub top off, leaving him in his forest green Henley. His tummy pudge pushed against the waffle knit and you purred softly, letting your finger tips cascade over the curve.
You took a couple seconds to breathe warm air into your palms to tone down the initial shock of your freezing hands before your slide them under either side off his long sleeve sliding it up slowly and off.
Your gulp was audible. His chest was moderately covered in dark brown hair mixing with dark grey and silver strands. The hair dispersed down his abdomen and reconvened on his soft belly. Goddamnit. Your felt animalistic, feral. You wanted to nuzzle against his whole body.
Your eyes continued the trail of hair and you whimpered loudly as it disappeared under the low slung waistline of his cargo pants.
Popping the button and lowering the zipper of his pants was not a choice you came to lightly. You almost lined up your stuffed animals so you could at least have someone to talk it out with.
His clothes were in the washing machine in the spin cycle as you approached his soft cock with your wash cloth. You handled this “bath” with professionalism, oddly enough. You had done this before hundreds of times with patients.
They were, of course, Alert and awake at the time.
Before you let your fingers graze him, you took a second to admire it. Even soft, it was larger than anyone she’d been with. With delicate precision, she washed his most private areas: front, back, and in between.
During the process, Robby would let out soft puffs or little lip smacks and grunts, but never showed any other signs of awakening.
He stayed asleep for the rest of the bath. He stayed asleep when you redressed him in his clean socks, black boxer briefs, and green Henley. He stayed asleep when you handcuffed him to the bed post and covered him with the blankets. He stayed asleep when you made dinner, showered, and got ready for bed.
You had made sure to pop in to check his vitals and make sure he was still stable and ok.
He stayed asleep for the rest of the night.
It wasn’t until morning that you finally heard the tug of the handcuff on metal. “What…what the fu-“ you hear a groggy Robby mumble.
You’d slept in the corner on the overstuffed recliner, not wanting to invade his space in the bed, but also not wanting to leave him entirely alone. You had been drifting in and out of sleep for a good 20 minutes until this point.
You sit up slowly, lowering the recliner and walking over to Robby’s waking form.
“Morning, Michael…how are you feeling? You’ve got to be thirsty…I had half a mind to hook up a banana bag, but I couldn’t really rationalize a reason to go back to work to grab the supplies”
“What the fuck…where the hell am I??” His voice started to get deeper and more loud as he started to fully wake up. His eyes widen when they finally cleared enough to focus on you. He said your name with grit. His chest rumbled with aggression.
“What. Did. You. Fucking. Do.” His growl continued before he violently yanked st the handcuff in a vain attempt to loosen it.
You backed away just enough before letting out a disappointing sigh. Your eyes catch his as you started to shake your head and “tsk” at him in admonishment. “Michael stop. You’re only going to hurt yourself.”
He tries again and when it doesn’t budge he screams out “FUCK!”
His arm start to violently yank against the handcuff, causing a loud ruckus of metal versus metal mixed with his panicked yelling.
“MICHAEL! STOP!” You scream over his yelling. He continues on for another 30 seconds before stopping in a huff. His chest heaved wildly and his lip snarled at you.
“Let me the fuck go” his voice lowers to a dangerously deep octave. It’s adorable for him to think he can intimidate you. You already got this far, your concern no longer had boundaries or governs when it came to saving this man.
“I can’t….you need me” you say simply.
“I-what?”
“You were going to kill yourself and I can’t just allow that to happen, Michael…so…I’m going to help you…you need me” you explain as if it’s the most normal concept. You even shrug.
Robby sat there speechless. Somewhere in his sick, sad, bitter mind, he felt touched that someone actually cared enough to go to these lengths to keep him around.
The rest of his mind, however? Was a threat level: Red.
You give him a sweet smile and slowly reach forward to push some hair out of his forehead. He winced at your touch and tried to back away. He wasnt sure how to feel when his skin warmed at your touch. He was expecting to feel entire repulsed. He almost had to force a negative reaction.
“You’ll feel better once you eat….hungry?” You chirp happily before turning around to leave and go make breakfast.
He was fucked. Everyone thought he left. He didn’t see his phone anywhere and he noticed he felt…clean. His skin smelled like lilac and white tea like he had showered…and his clothes smelled like lavender vanilla dryer sheets. Did you…
His face turned a dark shade of crimson as the realization was made. He laidback down, feeling dizzy. What the fuck was he gonna do?
