Reckless
✦ Dr. Robby x f!reader (mid 20s)
Summary: you're only a few months into your first year of residency and Robby's the attending who absolutely should know better. blurry lines are crossed, and there is no turning back, for better or worse.
word count: 2,7k warnings: 18+ smutty & age gap fic ✦ author's note: i just had to get this story out of my head and put it somewhere so here goes !! i might have multiple parts in mind, but we'll see
It didn't take long for you to adjust to your new life in the Pitt. You had to with how fast things were moving down here. There was misery in every corner of this place, but somehow you still felt like you belonged. It probably helped that you got along so well with the other residents, and the rest of the staff just the same.
Then there was your attending physician, who seemed okay at first. Sure, he has a rough exterior, which came through in his teachings every now and then. Tough love is what you'd call it, but sometimes he cracks a joke or two and flashes a smile that never goes unnoticed by you. Most of the time, it was business as usual and all that, but that was until you noticed a shift in his behavior around you. His eyes would linger a little too long on yours. A brush of your shoulders, making him wince more than necessary, prompting him to take an extra step to maintain an appropriate distance between you. Though he never seemed to bother taking the same steps with the other residents.
Maybe you were seeing things, making it up for your own amusement, but sometimes you could swear you saw him become flustered. It made you feel brave at times, daring yourself to not draw your eyes away from his whenever they ‘accidentally’ locked across the room. He would always be the first to fold, and despite the lack of words exchanged between the two of you, a thousand words had already been said.
This territory was unfamiliar, but you were far from against it. If anything, it brought some extra excitement to your shift. You knew what you wanted at this point. It’s been building these past months, and you could tell it was itching at him just as much, if not more.
Which brings you to the mid-week shift that is once again coming to a close. You say goodbye to your fellow residents and turn to make your way to the usual nearby bus stop. Having no car in this city was miserable, but not everyone can be so lucky as to get one from their parents for their sweet 16.
It's a warm September night, the breeze lifting your now untied hair from your scalp, occasionally blowing it right back in your face. You sigh, too tired to get annoyed as you run a loose hand through your hair.
“Taking the bus again?”
You look over your shoulder to see Robby by his motorcycle, getting ready to gear up. You often questioned his mode of transport as someone who sees firsthand the damage such a vehicle can cause if anything were to go even slightly wrong.
You smirk at the sudden initiative from him. “I always take the bus.”
He fiddles with his helmet, which, for the record, you've never actually seen him wear before. You sense that he's planning to do something reckless.
“You want a ride for a change?”
Surely not..
You turn on your heels, taking a few steps closer while pretending to think it over even though you’ve already made up your mind “Really?”
He huffs a chuckle, handing over the only helmet he’s got. “It doesn’t have to be a big deal.”
Your grin grows wider at that. “Of course not.” You say in agreement, accepting the helmet and strapping it on.
You really shouldn’t be as comfortable as you were on the back of that thing, but it was hard to focus on anything but the closeness of the man in front of you. Your arms stretched around his waist, holding on firmly. Doctor's orders, literally. His cologne was much more prominent this way, and you were bathing in it, as you would only catch a whiff of it every now and then in the ER.
He pulls into your apartment complex, and you're already mourning how quickly the ride was over. The bike comes to a quiet hum just before he turns the key, shutting it off completely. The quiet of the night surrounds the two of you, silently signaling that it's time to get off. You hesitate for a slight moment, and it doesn't go unnoticed by him as your hands reach for his shoulders to anchor your landing on the pavement.
You take the helmet off and pass it back to him. He hangs it on the steering wheel for the time being, watching you run a few hands through your hair to settle the chaos it had caused.
"You should probably wear that from time to time, y'know?" You're teasing lightheartedly, and he chuckles. It fills you with a dumb sense of pride.
So stupid.
He leans back on his seat, crossing his arms over his chest. "I don't know what you're talking about."
Yeah right.
With fingers intertwining behind your back, you try to think of something to keep him here a moment longer. Anything.
“Can I kiss you?”
It surprises even you once it leaves your mouth. Your eyes scan his face for a reaction, which he doesn't hold back. His eyebrows shoot up, eyes widen for the barest fraction of a second, and the corner of his mouth twitches like he’s fighting a smile. For a heartbeat, he looks like he’s about to say yes. But then the words come out, firm and certain.
“No, you cannot.”
A disappointed sigh escapes you, eyes rolling just slightly. “You're being boring.”
He shakes his head in disagreement, "I'm being professional— actually."
Whatever.
“Look— get some rest," he's trying to sound calm, but you can definitely hear the faint catch in his voice, "I’ll see you tomorrow.”
The rejection is bitter sweet, cause you knew this was still far from over.
You bite back a grin, “I’ll keep my door unlocked in case you change your mind," teasing again, testing the limits.
He hesitates, jaw tightening when he glances at you. He looks so done with you in the best way. “That’s not safe.”
You shrug as your feet begin to drag you back off toward your complex.
“For who? Me or you?” you press, tilting your head, letting the heat of your gaze do half the work.
Smugness curls across your face as you hurry up the stairs, taking great pleasure in knowing that he’s watching and seriously considering following you. Though it shouldn’t surprise you when he doesn’t. The door closes behind you, and the sound of his motorcycle starting back up fills the streets.
Figures.
You admit defeat with a disappointed sigh, feeling your heart calm down with each step you take toward your bathroom. You should probably be freaking out over the lines you had just crossed, but a warm shower was screaming your name, and you were not gonna wait any longer. The scrubs fall off your body, leaving you in just your underwear when you're suddenly reminded to turn the shower on, but something freezes you in your tracks.
The front door.
You could've sworn you just heard it open.
You throw on your bathrobe, carefully peeking your head out of the bathroom, which has a clear view of the front door.
He changed his mind.
The anticipation pulls you forward, your heart picking up its fast rhythm again as he shuts the door behind him, locking it.
Your eyes meet.
“It’s a bad habit— keeping your doors unlocked at this hour.”
A joke to ease the tension, and it works wonders.
You dare to take a few steps closer, “Don’t worry. It was a one-time thing.” It’s hard to keep the corners of your mouth at bay, cause you can tell he’s still struggling with his decision, and for some reason it turns you on to see his inner battles so clear.
A deep breath to ground himself. “You swear?”
You're close enough that you can smell the doubt on him, and yet it’s tinted so heavily with lust that it doesn’t matter anymore.
“I swear, it won’t happen again,” you reassure him, your tone not all that serious.
Something tells you he won't take the next step, which basically means you're in control right now. Your slightly shaky hands reach up to gently grab hold of his jacket, steadying yourself against him. There's a rush of heat and anticipation running through you. God, you wanted this so bad, and it’s actually within your reach.
The air crackles with tension, and he can't seem to fully bring himself to look at you, like he’s fighting himself to not cave in. “We shouldn't."
You couldn’t care less right now. “It doesn’t have to be a big deal." Even though it was, it very much was. But your voice is soft and reassuring, and it seems to do the trick.
He's looking directly at you now. Eyes scanning your face, trailing down to settle on your lips. It’s confirmed that he's made up his mind when his hands make their way to your waist, firmly pulling you even closer against him. No time is wasted from here on out as you move your hands to his neck, pulling him down while meeting him halfway to press your lips against his. This was brave, even for you.
He sighs into the kiss, the relief of it all. The tension and doubt fully leaving him the second you’re connected. It’s messy and heated and fuck— you can feel him hard against you already, and it was becoming so real so fast.
His tongue quickly asks for access, which you grant without hesitation. He’s letting out these quiet, desperate noises into your mouth, and it's driving you crazy.
He must be ready to move this along cause his hands suddenly slide down to hook under your thighs, sending you a signal to lift off the ground and straddle him, which of course you do, no questions asked.
He doesn’t have to walk very far before your back hits the wall of your narrow hallway. When you both need to catch your breath for a moment, he uses the opportunity to leave a trail of sloppy kisses against your jawline while he grinds his fully erect cock against your exposed underwear. It’s stroking in just the right spot for it to shoot pleasure straight to your core. He's basically begging to be let free, and so were you, in your own way.
You let out a whimper when he starts to gently suck at a sensitive spot on your neck, and it seems to activate something more in him. He pulls back ever so slightly to get a better look, assessing the situation while admiring the sight in front of him. His eyes draw down to your underwear before flicking up to meet yours. Asking for approval, which you give with a rushed nod. He gently pushes the underwear slit away to expose your basically dripping cunt.
“Fuck..” he curses under his breath at the sight, sliding his thumb along your lips up to your clit. Doing a few gentle circles, watching you for a reaction, and god if you weren't losing it before, you definitely were now. Your hands quickly move to his biceps to steady yourself, gripping hard as you push your head back against the wall. A quiet moan escapes you as his rough fingers keep circling your sensitive clit.
He leans in just close enough to huff a whisper into your ear. “That’s right— let me hear you.”
How the fuck was he so calm while you were basically losing it.
“Ngh— fuck— I—“ you stutter out in shallow breaths.
His lips capture yours again in a sloppy but needy kiss.
“Use your words— tell me what you want—“
You were trying, really trying.
“You— I want you—“
He smirks, fucking smirks, while the motion of his thumb goes rapid. Trailing it down to your wet folds every so often, making sure there was never any uncomfortable friction before you reach the finish line.
“Be good for me first,” his hot breath on your neck joins the many pleasures he’s sending through you at the moment. Lips attaching themselves back on the sensitive spot.
It’s building, waves getting higher with each flicker, “F— Rob—“
“That’s it— you’re being so good for me right now.”
The waves come crashing, grip getting tighter, pleasure shooting through you like a shockwave as you're slipping off the edge. It’s hard to speak or keep yourself from shaking too much, but Robby seems to have you all under control with a firm grip, letting you settle for a moment.
You’ve barely come to when you notice him quickly unbuttoning his pants with one hand, dragging them down just enough to expose his cock, and wasting no time pressing it against your opening. You can’t help but watch as he slides in, all of him. You basically swallow him whole, earning a gruff moan from the middle-aged man. Despite the warm-up, it still takes a few seconds for you to fully adjust to his size. Of course he takes notice and slows down when he pulls back out, watching your face carefully for any signs of discomfort.
But there is none, so he slams back in a little harder this time, causing you to yelp in pleasure. That's all he really needs to go full steam ahead. Repositioning you against the wall to get a better grip, hooking his arms under your knees for a deeper angle. It was already making you see stars.
Not much is said from this point, but no words are needed. You're getting high on every single grunt, silent whimper, and moan that's brewing quietly in his chest, escaping every now and then along with his shallow breaths. Each thrust sends your eyes backwards, sometimes, catching a glimpse of him, admiring the sweat he's building up while chasing his own release. You're basically drunk on pleasure, letting out soft moans yourself as he hits the perfect spot inside you over and over and over.
A different wave was building, a different kind of release. “I’m close—“
It's the signal he's been waiting for to quicken his own pace, seemingly also close to his own climax. It all comes crashing down simultaneously as he throws his head back, still somewhat in control. His grunts of desperation send you over the edge, the loudest moan yet escapes you at the pinnacle. He keeps a gentle pace for you to ride out your high with before he himself reaches the same destination. His grunts fill the hallway as he quickly pulls out, spilling himself all over your thighs and stomach. All you could do was watch and admire. It was truly a sight you wanted to have burned into your retina.
Your entangled bodies twitch ever so slightly as you're coming down. The sound of heaving breaths slowing down is filling the room before it goes quiet. He’s gentle when he puts you down and tucks himself away, and you pull your robe back on. He’s barely looking at you, keeping a much broader distance from you now. It’s cold and stale, and neither of you knows what to say.
The guilt is so visible on him now; he's drenched in it. Like he's just made the biggest mistake of his life.
Please don't let this become weird.
“I should go.”
Fuck.
It stings, cause you don't want him to. You want him to stay and wash off whatever shame he's feeling under the hot stream of your shower. Lie on his chest in the soft cotton sheets on your small double bed that can barely fit the two of you. Instead, you simply nod in agreement and try not to let your disappointment show.
He picks up on it, of course he does, but he's too much in his own head to even begin processing what the right steps are in this situation. He fears there are none, so he sort of just awkwardly rubs the back of his head and begins taking steps toward your front door instead.
“Goodnight.” It’s all you can think to say right now.
It makes him hesitate for a moment, barely a second, before he unlocks the door to step out. “Goodnight.”
You flash him a weak smile, he sends a tight one back. Something flash in his eyes before he shuts the door behind him. You convince yourself it's nothing.
Tomorrow's shift is gonna be awful.
