The first time Dennis calls Robby baby, it's a casual automatic response, like "thanks, baby" when Robby hands him something. Robby immediately flushes bright red, a nervous laughter leaving his mouth
"Don't you think I'm a little old for that?"
Dennis stops what he's doing and looks up at Robby with his big blue eyes, a genuine look of confusion on his face
oh i need more of this immediately. Dennis being the only one who Robby lets take care of him, and Robby feels so special and warm when Dennis calls him 'baby'. Dennis being a little dommy about it, holding Robby softly one night spooning from the back and grabbing his chin in his hand the next, demanding Robby say it.
"Who's my baby, Michael?"
"I-I am," Robby would reply. And yeah, Robby probably fantasizes about that shit and I would too tbh. Like imagine you're just craving someone to care about you in that way, after a lifetime of taking care of others someone is taking care of you just how you need it. and Dennis would love watching Robby tremble beneath him before finally giving in and just letting Dennis love him.
attempting to finish a fic and came across this note to myself lolol, my brain is truly a fun place to be
'okay idea machine time: we need a plan for the next two orgasms- i’m thinking they fuck, thats one. But should dennis ride him or be fucked into the mattress or both?
Second one, maybe robby is rimming him casually after they’ve calmed down a bit. Maybe they’ve had some tea, they're watching a movie, whatever. But next thing yknow robby’s down there saying “Y’know I think I promised you a third orgasm tonight, Dennis” and bam. Robby eater agenda'
Jack's subjected to watching Robby roll through fling after fiery fling, knowing none of these men or women will last, knowing exactly why they're not right for Robby, but keeping his mouth shut beyond an occasional eyeroll or lighthearted jab--nothing that will give Jack away beyond being the smartass friend Robby's always known Jack to be.
None of these bedwarmers really know Robby, though; not like Jack does. None of them has been with Robby through loss. Through pain. Through the triumph of an impossible, miraculous save.
Robby hasn't helped any of them through the agony of a missing limb that thinks it's still on fire, or devastating graveside visits, and none of them know that Robby's favorite sandwich from Primanti's is pastrami on rye with swiss and coleslaw, because it tastes like Sundays with his grandmother. None of them can see when Robby's self-recrimination has become self-loathing, and only Jack is willing to walk straight into Robby's wrath if it means Robby will still be here tomorrow.
Jack doesn't say anything when Robby cancels plans because the new plastics attending is free for drinks, or when he bows out of the Pens game because his Grindr app pinged. Jack knows what he and Robby have, and it's more than anyone else will get in their 7-week run.
Until everything Jack feels bubbles over. Until he can't bear the thought of another "someone else."
Robby is standing in Jack's kitchen, talking about some hook-up he's planning to see again, and Jack's not even thinking beyond an immediate, insistent, "No," when he bullies Robby against the fridge, a magnet clattering to the ground. He's got his body pressed against Robby's, using surprise and his upper-body strength to hold Robby in place. His thigh is already slotted between Robby's legs, right where it belongs, and Jack rasps, "He's not what you fucking need," just before he presses his lips to Robby's. Jack bypasses chaste or questioning or gentle, taking the kiss he's always wanted, making a needy, shocked sound into Robby's mouth when Robby's hand lands on Jack's lower back with a growl, pulling him even closer. Kissing back like maybe Robby already knew it should be Jack.
so we know that CANNONICALLY matthew murdock likes feet. stay with me here, but i feel like he means it in a worshipful kind of way? like yes he enjoys the feet themselves because they are a part of his partner and apparently he has nothing against feet, but also he loves to suck toes because he wants his partner to know that he loves every part of them, yknow? and it’s not weird to him because he’s so used to doing things other people wouldn’t do, ie kicking ass and taking names, so of course he’d be down to lick up his partners foot and tell them how gorgeous they are and how no one’s probably ever done this for them before and how he’s honored to be the first. because he likes to be of service like that. and he’d probably get hard going it, rut against the floor or bed or whatever and totally just cum from having his mouth on his partners foot. so yeah i guess i’m a daredevil foot kink truther now what about it
got my wisdom teeth out yesterday, my dilf surgeon (with glasses!) kept saying “good girl” to me while holding eye contact and i fear i liked it a little too much
And if you didn't think I would turn this into a hucklerobby fic, think again.
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At 21, Dennis was sure he was too old to be getting his wisdom teeth out. Growing up in rural Nebraska, it hadn’t even been a concern of his. Of course, now in Pittsburgh for college and planning on sticking around for med school, he realized that he had, in fact, neglected his personal health for too long, and this was the result. He sighed as he walked into the oral surgery clinic, obediently handing over his id and insurance. In the waiting room, he hoped that Trinity, his roommate, would show up soon. He was supposed to have a “trusted adult” with him through the whole process, assuming that if there were any problems, she could be trusted to be there for him. And not a moment too soon did she arrive in a flurry of apologies with her sunglasses haphazardly thrown atop her head as they got called back into the room.
“Thank you for being here, Trin, I know it's an inconvenience but I didn’t really have anyone else who could come.”
“Oh hush Huckleberry, it’s no problem, seriously. Sorry I was a little late, I got held up at Yoyo’s.” Trinity smirked at that, and Dennis hit her arm playfully. The nurse separated them, then, to get more x-rays from Dennis. By the time he made it back to the room where Trinity waited, a blown-up version of his teeth was being shown on the screen, and Trinity cackled at the absurdity.
“Look at your cute little nose, Huck, can I get a picture of you in front of it?” She motioned with her phone at the x-ray, and Dennis shook his head vehemently.
“Absolutely not, I do not trust you to not post it everywhere, so nice try but no thanks,” he laughed, some of his nerves for the surgery dissipating with his giggles. Before long, a different nurse appeared to walk him through what the surgery would look like, then had him sign all the necessary paperwork. She promised to return with the surgeon, then left the room.
“Well, it sounds like it should go quickly, so at least that's good.” Trinity mentioned, sprawling out in her chair as she scrolled through her phone.
“Yeah, hopefully it’ll all go fine.”
They sat in companionable silence for a few more minutes, Dennis almost bringing up the whole “Yoyo” situation, before the door opened once more as the nurse stepped back in, with a man who must be the surgeon right behind her. He looked to be in his 50s, with glasses perched on his nose and soft crows' feet peeking out from his brown eyes as he smiled. His tall frame shrank as he sat in a rolling chair, pushing himself over to Dennis.
“Hi Dennis, I’m Dr. Robinavitch, but you can call me Dr. Robby.”
Dennis blanched as the man made direct eye contact, and almost lost all train of thought. How was a middle aged doctor supposed to look this gorgeous? It really wasn’t fair.
“U-um, hi, I’m Dennis.” Dennis took the man’s outstretched hand in a handshake, mentally kicking himself for introducing himself even though the Doctor already knew who he was.
“And I’m Trinity.” She shook his hand too, and Dennis fought to control his inner embarrassment as Dr. Robby continued to explain the procedure.
“It shouldn’t be too difficult, a pretty cut and dry case here. Luckily your roots haven’t come in fully yet, and you’re missing the bottom left wisdom tooth. They should all come out easily, and we’ll have you in and out in about 30 minutes.”
Dennis nodded along; it was nothing he hadn’t heard before. His attention was rapt on the doctor, though, watching his mouth move in sync with his gentle tone of voice, his eyes somehow sparkling and mischievous.
“Now, Dennis,” Dr. Robby started, moving to the aftercare instructions and catching Dennis’s attention to his words once more.
“Do you smoke or vape?”
“No sir,” Dennis answered responsibly.
“Good boy.” Dr. Robby noted, turning to the nurse as she gathered this information down. He continued speaking, but Dennis’s brain whited out as he processed what Dr. Robby had just called him. He didn’t think he had a praise kink before this, but hearing this surgeon say those words so easily really got to him. Dennis fought to refocus as Dr. Robby addressed him again, asking if he had any questions before the surgery.
“No sir,” he replied again, nervously uncrossing, then crossing his feet in front of him on the stretched out chair.
“Good boy,” Dr. Robby said again, patting Dennis’s foot as he stood and walked out of the room, smiling and making direct eye contact with Dennis. Dennis felt his face go hot as the door shut, and the nurse prepared him to head back to the surgery room with her. What was that? Seriously? In the span of five minutes, this man had told Dennis “Good boy” twice, patted his foot, then walked out like nothing happened? All while making intense eye contact? God, Dennis really needed to get laid if this was doing it for him. Seriously.
Thankfully, Trinity didn’t seem to catch on, though she did give him an odd look as they both stood to leave the room. Seemingly he hid his emotions well enough, and gave her a thumbs up as she left to sit in the waiting room and he went back to surgery. At least it would all be smooth sailing from here on out, he probably wouldn’t even have to interact with the surgeon again.
got my wisdom teeth out yesterday, my dilf surgeon (with glasses!) kept saying “good girl” to me while holding eye contact and i fear i liked it a little too much
Have you ever been in a fandom solely for a ship but haven't seen the original material?
Like, not watching it at all, or just a couple of episodes, random scenes, or edits.
But still knowing the whole story inside and out thanks to fanfics, quick research, and desperate searches for:
"Who the heck is this character they mentioned in five different fanfics?"
Because I've certainly done it.
I confess my sin.
In my defense, Your Honor, the original material sometimes takes WAY too long to get interesting, and my favorite character doesn't appear until season 4.
I'm not going to sit through three whole seasons just to watch a specific character suffer and then get obsessed with a ship.
Besides, sometimes something worse happens:
Your favorite character appears, becomes the best thing about the show, and then disappears midway through the plot while everyone else is stuck in the same conflict.
(And I'm not the one saying this, the fandom itself is)
So yeah
There are series I haven't technically seen.
But I know the lore perfectly well thanks to fanfiction.
In fact, when someone asks me something about the fandom, I have to think VERY carefully before answering because there's a very high chance they're confusing canon with:
— a headcanon
— an analysis
— a 40k shot
— or something I read at 3 AM months ago
Does this happen to you, or have I completely lost my mind?
Dennis housesitting for Robby wanting to learn everything there is to know about the older man.
Vacuuming the whole house was really just an excuse to get into every nook and cranny of Robby's livingspace. He makes his way to Robby's bedroom, geez, it's been a while since this place was properly cleaned, hasn't it? He's thorough with it, making sure to get everything, under the dresser, on top of the baseboards, and of course, underneath the bed.
thunk
The vacuum hits something under there. A box from the sound of it. And Dennis is nothing if not curious. He knows he shouldn't, of course, but it's just a little too intriguing. And besides, it's not like anyone would ever know he secretly likes snooping around in Robby's stuff when he can't see.
He starts thinking of all the possibilities of what the box could contain as he pulls it out. Maybe childhood memories from when he lived with his grandmother? An old stuffed animal or maybe some pictures? Souvenirs from medschool or travels? Dennis is so caught up in wanting to learn about Robby's past he completely forgets about the obvious answer.
Ah
It's a bunch of sex toys.
His first reaction is to be disgusted and maybe a little disappointed, but then he takes a second. These are Robby's. These have all been, at some point, specifically picked out by Robby. They are all neatly tucked away into drawstring bags, so he can't see what they look like. All he can see clearly are the few stray condoms and some very normal-looking water based lube. But he can tell the size of the toys. He knows in the back of his mind these are probably what he would use on other people, there's no way Robby would bottom all by himself, right?
But oh, isn't it something to consider. Immediately his mind is flooded with images of his boss using the toys on himself. Robby laying on his side, using one arm to hold one leg up as the other fucks the largest dildo into himself, his face contorted in pleasure at finally being able to unwind after a long shift. Or Robby in the shower, using the suction cup on the end of another dildo to attach it to the wall, moving back and forth on it without having to bend his older knees too much. Hot water dripping down his-
This is an invasion of privacy.
Such a big one, in fact, that Dennis is afraid that if Robby knew, he'd surely throw him out of his house if not fire him altogether. He puts the lid back on the box in a hurried panic and shoves it back into place. Under the bed. Undisturbed. Forgotten. He finishes the chores he came to do and promptly leaves the house, never intending to look at the box again.
His willpower is strong enough to uphold this thought for all of three days. The second he's back in Robby's bedroom (just going in there to dust the shelves and air out the room, he swears!), he finds his gaze wandering back to the bed. To the spot he knows the box is under.
The thing is, everything else in Robby's house is very... plain. Sure, there are some personal artifacts here and there, but everything else is like a factory basic. White mugs, plain rugs, blankets, bedsheets and towels. Nothing that reflects any real personality. It makes Dennis wonder. Are the toys equally as plain? Would they all just be the cheapest, basic black silicone, just something to get the job done, it doesn't matter what they look like. Or would they reflect what Robby fantasizes about? A favorite color? Something that reminds him of someone?
Before he knows it, he's standing by the bedside again. Bracing one hand on the matrass, getting on his knees and reaching under. His hand finds the handle, takes hold and pulls it out. The lid comes off and he's met with the exact same sight as last time. Neat bags, expired condoms, lube and toy cleaner. This time though, instead of just staring at the contents, he reaches in. He picks up the bag laying on top of all the others, maybe this one was Robby's favorite? It surely had to be the last one he used.
The toy is firm and thick, he feels the flared base curve into a suction cup at the end of it. He feels the details through the soft bag, a pronounced gland and a few veins running along the shaft. Loosening the drawstrings, he grabs hold of the base and carefully removes the rest of the bag. It bobs gently in his grasp. The clear, neatly cleaned silicone shines in the dim bedroom light. And suddenly Dennis feels hungry for it. No matter what Robby uses it for, whether that be on himself or on other people, Dennis needs to know what it feels like.
He could blame his thoughts on the 12-hour shift he just got back from, or his increasing frustration with Robby being gone, or his lackluster sex life, or literally anything else. But he knows why he wants it. He wants it because it belongs to Robby. He wants it inside him because he knows Robby has touched it. He's touched it with a heavy breath and lube-slick fingers. And Dennis wants it.
No-one would know, right? If he just carefully cleans it before and after he uses it, right? If he tucks it carefully back into the bag and shoves the box back into place when he's done, it wouldn't be a problem, right? He knows his logic is ill-intentioned, but dammit he's never been so sure he wants something in his life. So he keeps hold of the toy and grabs the toy cleaner with this other hand, reading the instructions on the bottle as he makes his way to the bathroom. He rinses it, dries it with a clean towel, and rubs a thin layer of the blue-ish gel to the head and shaft, then sets it on the counter to air dry. He stares at is for all the six minutes it takes for it to fully dry.
When he's sure it's done, he takes it back to Robby's bed where he lays it gently on the sheet and grabs the lube from the box. Laying down after taking his pants and underwear off, he gets a waft of Robby's smell from the sheets. He hadn't been gone long enough for the smell to wear off yet, and Dennis feels it only increase the wetness between his legs. He had left the window open, so as he spreads himself he feels the cold evening breeze brush against him, a welcome contrast to how hot he feels. His breathing turns heavy as he drips a good amount of lube onto himself. Not that he really needed it by now, he just wanted to be sure. Anticipation boils beneath his skin as he picks the toy up and rubs it along his folds, his bottom growth making contacts with the edge of the gland and rubs along the imprint of veins along the shaft.
Taking a deep breath, he slides the blunt head in with barely any resistance. Moaning as the rest of the shaft follows smoothly. The toy wasn't the biggest in the box, but it was still both long and thick. Not enough to burn, just enough to fill him with the dream of Robby pleasing him. He pushes it as far as it will go inside him, leaving only an inch that won't fit. Groaning out of frustration at not being able to fit all of it, he wanted to be stuffed full of Robby, to take all of him at once, to be good for Robby.
He starts a slow rhythm, getting used to the size of what he now hopes is close to Robby's actual size because this felt utterly perfect. Whimpering and moaning his name into the empty room, Dennis hears the wet noises from his steady thrusts. He tries to imagine its Robby shoving the toy into him, sitting between his legs and aiming for his belly button from the inside. Fueled by the exhilarating mixture of shame, embarrassment and arousal he picks up the speed, increasing the noises coming from both ends of him.
"Touch yourself, puppy, show me how good I make you feel," the Robby in his head says. Shit, should've brought a towel, Dennis briefly thinks, but that thought was soon lost. Quickly soiling his clean hand with lube as he tugs and pinches the spot he wants it most. It's at this moment the last shreds of guilt dissolves completely and he feels himself sink deeper into the warm comfortable pit of pleasure. He allows himself to rearrange himself so he hits the perfect spot every time with the dildo and uses more and more pressure with his other hand on his dick. The rest of the world becomes a blur and all he hears is the sound of his skin smacking against lube and the voice of Robby in his head.
His boss, he thinks. His much older, positively straight and strictly professional boss. The man he has to present every patient to. The man in charge of how he does his job and the safest person to go to for advice. Dennis thinks of the immense comfort Robby represent for him. The warmth of not just his hands on his shoulder or his rare genuine smile, but of his competence during traumas or dealing with rare cases. Dennis wants to learn everything Robby knows. Wants to learn everything about him. Including how he'd make Dennis cum on his cock. How much time it would take him to find the perfect rhythm, the perfect angle, the perfect thing to say to make Dennis come completely undone in his grasp.
"Come on, puppy, you've been so good for me. You can come if you need to." Just imagining these words coming from Robby's mouth, being given his permission, is enough to send Dennis over the edge. His body tenses and arches and he desperately tries to uphold the pace through his orgasm. He fucks himself as waves of pleasure bursts through him, bitten moans and breathless gasp coming out of his mouth. The toy hits that spot deep inside him that only intensifies his climax as he desperately clenches around it.
Panting wildly, he slumps against the matrass, still keeping a firm grip on the toy inside him not wanting to let go just yet. But his sweaty body betrays him and starts to shiver in the cold air of the bedroom. Despite wanting to keep laying there with Robby's toy buried deep inside him, his logical brain is starting to come back online and he knows he needs to clean up and get back home to his own bed eventually. The reality of what he's just done seeps into his still sluggish train of thought, and he giggles a little to himself at the absurdity of it. Jesus Christ. He just used his boss' sex toy to get himself off, in his boss' bed, without ever asking permission.
Oh well, maybe he could ask for forgiveness when he comes back.
dennis had heard from everyone that robby was some type of sex god. his seven week itches were infamous for their prolific nature and the universal disappointment at their ending. the women all seemed to mourn losing the best sex they’d ever had.
it was well known around the whole hospital that robby was good in bed, it had even trickled down to the newest members of the staff. your first week in the pitt, you learned where the gauze was, how to use the medication dispenser, and that robby was a fucking animal.
so it was exciting when dennis’s crush turned out to be more mutual than just pathetic. he was excited to see what skills robby had.
after their third date (because robby insisted this wasn’t one of his flings), dennis finally got robby on top of him.
and it was good. robby opened him up, kissed him sweetly, nibbled on his ear. inch by inch, robby pushed in and dennis was gasping. robby thrust deep and hard a couple glorious times.
and then he was shoving his face in dennis’s neck and shuddering.
“did you just…” dennis asked.
robby pressed his face even tighter into dennis. “i-um-yeah.” robby felt himself get red and hot. “i’m really sorry. you’re just really pretty.” and he liked dennis a lot and hadn’t felt this comfortable with touch in forever and robby was sort of convinced he was in love.
“it’s ok,” dennis chuckled and threaded his fingers through the hair on the back of robby’s head. “you’ll have plenty of time to get used to it.”
robby shivered and grinded into dennis despite the fact he was spent.
I need a rabbot confession that just slips out - in a very simple mundane moment.
It's an unspoken thing between them that Jack shows up after his shift if Robby has the next day off. They'll eat breakfast together and then Robby will plant his ass on his couch for hours while Jack takes the guest room to sleep. They both relax better with the other around - even if they are in different rooms. Something about knowing they're sharing their time and space. Existing together.
When Jack eventually shows up in the living room, he's in a washed out band tee from a concert they caught together decades ago and a dark pair of sweatpants. His curls are messy, sticking in every direction. His eyes are still heavy with sleep, one of his biceps has lines and imprints from sheets and to Robby's delight Jack's cheek has the same lines from the pillow. Jack must have slept like a baby.
Robby does realise Jack is talking to him. Voice still deep and gravely, he catches something about "trash tv" so he guesses Jack is complaining about the show he's watching but Robby isn’t listening. His chest is so warm and he's so happy to watch the early afternoon sun hitting Jack's sleepy features.
"I love you."
Robby says it in the middle of Jack's sentence. He didn't mean to say it out loud. He thinks it a lot. It's a quiet ever present thing in the back of Robby's mind. He's known for a long, long time.
It shuts Jack up. He's looking at him like he thinks he must have misheard. This would be Robby's chance to think of an excuse. His Chance to make it looks like he genuinely misheard him.
You were talking about omega jack teasing alpha Dennis if I recall correctly??
As an apology for accidentally sicking the midwest freaks on you :( I’d threaten to get the belt but too many of them would enjoy that sort of thing.
It was a compromise; Jack was resting on the couch, trying to watch his show, and Dennis was curled up on behind him for attention. He hadn’t explicitly said anything- Dennis was still a bit too shy to ask for sex- but Jack knew by Dennis’s gentle nuzzling of his neck and soft kisses.
Jack decided to indulge the boy; rolling onto his side and letting the little alpha sidle up behind him. Dennis can wiggle his jeans down and thrust his cock through the plush warmth of Jack’s thighs.
“Just don’t cum on me, I don’t want to clean that off the couch.” Jack warned, feeling Dennis nod against his back and letting out a whimpered promise. And he’d tried, he really tried, but the feeling of his cock pressing into Jack’s firm thighs, wet with Jack’s slick, and burying his face in Jack’s shoulder, and he could still smell his sweat and cologne on his shirt-
“Dennis!” Dennis whined as his cock jerked, sending cum dribbling down his thighs.
“Sorry, m’sorry, Jack, I-“ Dennis choked out, wincing as Jack raised his leg enough to expose it to the cool air of the room.
“Go on pup, clean me up. Just a messy little alpha, huh?” Jack sighed in faux-annoyance. Dennis still wiggled his way down, about to happily lick his spend off of his mate’s thighs when they clamped down on his head. Dennis yelped as his cheek was smushed against his own spend, hot and sticky, and no matter how much Dennis bucked and thrashed Jack kept his hold firm.
At his side little whine, Jack just snorted and ruffled his hair.
“You made a mess, you get your face shoved in it. It’s how my parents trained their dogs."
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