If I Could Disappear Beneath The Leaves || Michael Robinavitch

Indya

indulging in the beauty of vintage books and

coquette vibes ♡

COMFORT IN THE CHAOS

PAIRING: Michael “Robby” Robinavitch x Female Reader

RATING: Explicit

WORD COUNT:

SUMMARY: 1258

Robby gets home late from work and joins you in the bath.

TAGS/WARNINGS:

established relationship, no use of y/n, domestic fluff, sharing a bath, pet names (sweetheart, baby), no plot, single pov - robby

explicit sexual content (18+ MDNI): fingering, hand job, hair pulling, kissing, light edging, begging, switch behavior

LINKS:

main blog | ao3 | masterlists

Robby gets home late, closer to nine than to seven like he was scheduled. His back aches and his feet are tired but none of that matters because as he unlocks the door to his apartment, he knows that you’re going to be there waiting for him.

He drops his bag to the floor and kicks off his shoes. You’re not in the living room, watching TV, or in the kitchen, leaning against the counter as you dig a spoon straight into a pint of ice cream. He checks the bedroom and you’re not curled under the quilt but he can hear soft music through the slightly open bathroom door so he peeks inside.

You’re in the bath, bubbles up to your neck and your head tilted back on the edge of the tub. You’ve left the vanity lights off, opting instead for the singular light above the shower so the room is only dimly lit. Your eyes are closed and if it weren’t for the way you move your hands in the water, he would think you were asleep.

“Are you going to keep staring or join me?” You ask, lifting your head to look at him. He steps further into the room, crouching down by the tub.

“I don’t know, you seem pretty happy in there by yourself,” he says, reaching in to flick some of the warm water at you.

Despite his reply, he stands and removes his clothes and you shift forward in the water, giving him space to settle in behind you, his legs on either side of yours and your back to his chest. A bit of water escapes the tub but you’re not bothered and he doesn’t care, too content with the way the heat soothes his pain and the weight of your body against his.

“How was work?” You ask. He settles his palms against your belly, traces his nose against the shell of your ear.

“I’m two hours late. How do you think it was?”

“I’m just making conversation,” you reply. He can hear the accompanying eye roll in your tone.

“Maybe,” he says, sliding his hands lower, “I don’t want to talk about work.” You hum, head dropping back against his shoulder. Your thighs part just enough for him to fit his hand between them. “In fact, I don’t really want to talk at all.”

He uses two fingers to circle your clit and brings his other hand to one of your breasts, squeezing it before pinching your nipple until you gasp. You squirm in his hold, your ass rubbing against his hard cock. He plays with your pussy to his heart’s content, slowing down when he thinks you’re close and picking up the pace when you whine for more.

You reach your arm up, wrapping it around the back of his neck, anchoring yourself to him. You lift one leg over the edge of the tub, opening yourself up. He wishes he could see past the bubbles as he slides two fingers inside of you and your body tenses against him.

“Fuck, sweetheart,” he whispers against your neck. “That feel good?”

“Yeah,” you manage, voice hitching on the word when he curls his fingers.

He sinks his teeth into the side of your neck, right over your pulse, making you gasp and tighten around him. He grinds his palm against your clit on every thrust of his hand and curls his fingers every time he withdraws until he knows you’re right on the edge.

“Ask me if you can come,” he says.

“Can I come?” You dutifully respond.

“You can do better than that.” He slows down just slightly but it’s enough to make you groan in frustration. “Ask nicely.”

“Please can I come?”

Robby resumes his earlier pace, giving your clit extra attention with messy swipes of his thumb. It’s not long before you’re arching your back and tightening around his fingers as you come, pretty mouth open wide in a silent gasp. You collapse against him, chest heaving with labored breaths, and he slowly withdraws his fingers, sliding his hand up your body until he’s cupping your jaw and turning your face toward his for a kiss.

You turn your body to face him, straddling his thighs and reaching down to take his cock in your hand, making him hiss. His hands roam your body as you start to pump your fist and lean forward for a kiss that’s hungry, messy, tongues moving together in shared desperation.

Your other hand fists his hair and you tug, hard, breaking the kiss. His eyes open and you’re looking down at him, haloed in the dim light, and for a moment he thinks that this might be a glimpse of heaven.

“You take such good care of me, you know that?” Your voice is a low murmur, your lips close enough to touch but your tight hold on his hair makes it impossible to bridge the small distance. His fingers flex, digging into your hips. “You must be exhausted.”

Robby makes a noise of agreement. You twist your hand around the head of his cock, smooth your thumb over the slit. His thighs flex and toes curl from the overwhelming sensation.

“Come on, baby.” You lick his throat, nipping at his earlobe. “Let go for me.”

His orgasm washes over him with another two strokes, the combination of your voice and touch too much to bear for too long. You ease him through it before letting go of his softening cock and releasing your grip on his hair.

He cups your face and brings you in for a kiss, pouring his gratitude into the movement of his mouth against yours. When you pull away, he watches you lean back to turn on the faucet and grab a bottle of shampoo.

You unhook the spray attachment from its holder, turning it on low. He tips his head forward to let you spray his hair.

“You don’t have to—“

“Hush,” you interrupt. “Let me do this.”

He doesn’t argue after that. Not when you pour a bit of shampoo in your palm and lather it up, carding your fingers through his hair. Not when you drag the suds down into his beard and lightly scratch, a sensation almost as good as the orgasm you gave him.

You rinse the soap from his hair and face with a level of care that makes his chest ache. After that, you wash what you can reach of his body with some of your body wash, ensuring he smells more like vanilla and less like hospital antiseptic.

When you’re done, you both stand to do a cursory sweep of the sprayer to get the lingering bubbles off. He opens the drain and climbs out of the tub, holding out a hand to help steady you as you get out.

Robby dries himself off and drops his towel to the floor, kicking it around to soak up the small puddle of water that’s formed around the tub as a result of your activities. You leave the bathroom, wrapped in your towel, and he grabs another towel from the closet to wrap around his waist before following you into the kitchen.

You heat up the plate of dinner you kept for him in the microwave. He pulls out a pint of ice cream and a spoon. You eat together, leaning against the kitchen counters, and Robby knows one thing for certain.

At the end of the day, you’re his comfort in the chaos.

Thank you for reading! Please consider leaving a comment or reblogging if you enjoyed 💕

jack abbot knocking cigarettes from your hand because there’s no way he’s watching you kill your lungs like that. jack abbot making you talk to him, kid when you slip out of the room after a hard loss because there were too many times that he didn’t, and it’s still fucking with him. jack abbot bringing you tea instead of coffee because otherwise your hands will start shaking around 2 AM. jack abbot having to be held back by shen when a patient in chairs keeps talking to you like they have no sense. jack abbot dragging you up to the roof and not leaving until you eat the half of the burrito he paid $10 dollars extra to have brought to him directly because all he’s seen you nibble on was some hershey kisses ellis left for you two nights ago. watching the sun come up before walking you to your car, and not breathing deep enough until you text him home. jack abbot seeing himself in your willingness to bend if it could save the patient and hesitance to accept deserved praise, and doing everything he can to hone that shit. build you up and keep you there, regardless if it looks like he’s picking favorites. you’re good. great, and the gust of fresh air that keeps blowing him back from the edge…

Do I write a fake boyfriend!robby situation? It’ll be very fluffy and very cute.

if there’s one thing about jack abbot, it’s that he’s going to mock you during sex… though never done out of cruelty or with any malicious intent. if fact, the two of you don’t even think of it as such—mocking.

his words are more of a… provocative ribbing that he knows will flood your mind with a haze. a haze you’re comfortable with floating in, that fills you full, right into a world-bending breaking point.

you’re both on your sides, facing and pressing against each other. substituting oxygen with your panting huffs, jack inhales your moans with sloppy, spit-slick kisses. he feels you shiver in his arms when he slips himself back inside, resettling your leg over his hip to push as far into your pussy as you’ll let him.

jack smirks to himself, his palm moving to splay against the cheek of your ass and yank you closer. he grunts through a sudden exhale at the new angle, commencing a roll of his waist that causes a gasp to burn your lungs.

“fuck, jack,” your mewl, voice weak and wobbly. “ah—ah, ‘s so deep…”

“is it? s’it nice and deep, baby?” he mumbles at your lips, copying your desperate nod and small yeahs with an expression of pity you can tell is fake. “wonder ‘f i can get any deeper...”

you aren’t given a chance to wonder the same before jack is gripping your ass with a stronger squeeze. his tender thrusts adjust into a sharp, sturdy pounding that jerks his balls back and forth against your pussy.

leaking around his thickness, you hand reaches behind to clench the sheet beneath you. it’s the only thing you can manage, the rest of your mind a sweet mush.

“t-too much.” you can barley talk, air escaping your body faster than you can replace it. “it’s too much, feels too good.”

jack doesn’t let up, cock throbbing and pumping hard into your heat. his bottom lip pokes out, just barely, matching your blissed out expression.

“oh, ‘too much, it’s too much’,” he recites, drawing out the words in a teasing tone you wouldn’t tolerate from anyone else. “i don’t think so, baby. shit, you’re doing so good. takin’ my cock all nice and pretty.”

you crumble against jack but he holds you steady. lips smushed into his neck, you smear it messy with the spit drooling from slurred, open-mouthed mumbles. 

“you’re so big,” you stammer, vision going blurry at the wet squelch that sounds whenever he rears out of you, and subsequent groan that jumps from jack when he slicks back inside your creaming hole. 

“ooh, i‘m so big?” jack keeps his pace steady through the witty responses, and you can’t yourself from meeting his thrusts with your own grind. you don’t have to see him to feel the grin quirking the corners of his mouth. “hm? maybe i should pull out, give you a break—”

“no. no,” you whine over the rocking of the bed, clutching his as if he’s truly considering slipping his cock out and leaving you empty and cold. “no, don’t stop. gonna come again…”

the words flip a switch in jacks brain and he fucks you the hardest he has all night. foot planting into the bed, he sounds with deep coos at your uncontrollable cries he forces out of you.

it’s disgusting, the way you’ve coated his member in a velvety mixture of your juices. dripping down, it even collects against his sack, glossing him and making his eyes roll.

“gimme that cum, baby. just like last time, squirt it all out for me.”

you body goes numb yet feels like it’s imploding all at once. jack watches the way you shiver in his grasp, clenching around his swollen cock as you gush messily. he fucks you through it, the liquid spurting to wet his stomach and balls.

“that’s it,” he chokes out, inching dangerously close to his own finish. it only takes a few more pulses of your peak to finally clutch his own, plunging feverishly until he’s balls deep inside you. “f-fuck, yeah, right there.”

jack breaks. groaning into the side of your face and latching onto you while comes, the inescapable bliss makes his entire body twitch with harsh trembles.

“holy fuck, i’m still goin,” jack almost growls, air caught in his throat at the continuous ropes of cum he spills into you. the both of you are still heaving and coming as he leaks out of you. your lips puffy and swollen, and a sticky mess. it goes on for so long that jack ends up laughing through his moans, stomach sore from all the clenching.

it takes a few more minutes for your bodies to finally melt into tangled piles of limbs, the warm residue of your climax swimming nicely in your belly.

“you still with me, gorgeous?”

the only response you can muster is a sleepy mm-mm, and he gives you an equally-exhausted laugh. you only find the strength to peel open your eyes when a soft hand cradles your chin to tilt your head.

eyelids fluttering, you stare at him in a lost, fuzzy daze. thumb stroking your cheek, jack blinks sleepily at you before planting a soft kiss on the corner of your lips.

“i’m right here,” he promises, words certain but still far away when they reach your ears. “right here, baby. need you to come back for me, okay?”

a whine seeps from your lips. it’s not a defiance but you’re not obliging him either. you’re just… still in orbit, where you are the sun and jack’s the earth just before a dawn; as usual, he’ll push past the incoming fatigue, and wait for the otherworldly, ingrained tug that will eventually pull you back to him.

“right here…”

© 𝐬𝐮𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐡𝐨𝐞𝐯𝐚

so you're telling me that in FIVE YEARS no one in Jackson got with him???? HELL NAH i don't believe it

late night visits

michael robinavitch x female reader

summary: somehow your neighbor is always finding himself at your front door hoping to find relief through casual hookups, but you both can’t deny your feelings any longer

content: nsfw, 18+ mdni, mutual pining, oral f!receiving, mention of an age gap because i can’t help myself, just dr robby having a realization of feelings while going down on you

author’s note: told y’all i was gonna write some dr robby smut!! like usual, it didn’t feel right to jump right in with nasty jaw dropping smut so here’s a little fluffy— but still saucy, hookup drabble with the hunkiest emergency doctor i know

Michael Robinavitch was your neighbor. 

Your apartment doors faced each other which lead to many casual exchanges and brief interactions.

They started off innocent; shy waves and polite smiles.

Then, they turned into conversations about what each of you did for a living and how long you’d lived in the city— just a culmination of small talk and harmless banter that took place in the little hallway of your apartment building.

But then, after weeks of coy chitchatting outside of your front doors, your exchanges escalated.

Your conversations with Robby had turned into hushed moans and deep throaty groans as his hands gripped furiously at your hips while he thrusted into you after an exhausting day at work. 

The first time you tested the waters of shared desire was a little over a month ago. You spontaneously invited him over to join you for dinner as he was getting home from work. Neither of you thought much about it. It felt like a simple invitation to get to know a new-ish neighbor. Just a friendly meeting over a quick meal, but it turned out to be something entirely different. 

That evening ended with his calloused hands greedily sliding up your body with your back pressed against a wall.

Both of you were stewing with pent-up frustration and using the other for an easy thoughtless release. 

The next time you found yourself underneath his body was just as unexpected but far more impassioned.

He had knocked on your door, his expression unsure yet somehow laced with anticipation when you answered. 

He started trying to make up some excuse as to why he was interrupting your nighttime routine until you pulled him into your apartment, meeting his lips with your own in a hurried and desperate kiss. 

It continued like that for weeks, late night visits full of eager touches and sinful craving.

The exact nature of your relationship was unclear. You just found one another for physical connection, never getting in too deep or finding meaning in your dubiously satisfying meetings. 

But, of course you had feelings for the guy, he had his dick buried in you on a nightly basis. You just weren’t sure if he felt the same way. 

You couldn’t help but assume he saw you as a quick fuck— an easy way to detach from his day in a bout of vulgar connection.

But that couldn’t be further from the truth.

Sure, the first time had been because Robby needed a distraction. You were just stood there, cooking a meal for him and listening intently as he told you about his profession. You were completely enthralled with him, your lips turning up into a cute little smile, and he couldn’t remember the last time someone looked at him like that; let alone a beautiful woman nearly half his age. It was almost criminal how fast he gave into temptation, letting himself get a taste of you through hungry kisses and tainted intentions.

After that he became addicted to you.

He even found himself thinking about you at work— a place that didn’t allow more than a sliver of space in his mind to think about anything other than the task at hand, yet you occupied nearly every corner of it. 

So he kept showing up— kept seeking you out in hopes that he could stay high on your presence long enough to stay satisfied before getting the next inevitable taste.

You seemed to enjoy the unspoken arrangement. He didn’t want to ruin anything with the complication feelings and exclusivity. Plus, he was a busy man, relationships never seemed to work well for him, so maybe this situation was for the best. 

But now, his face was buried between your legs, and he peered up to find your head thrown back and your eyes squeezed shut in pleasure, and he didn’t think he’d ever seen something so picturesque. So undeniably perfect. 

“God, You’re beautiful.” His voice was a hum against your skin as he stopped to place a sloppy kiss on the inside of your thigh along with his words. 

Your fingers tightened into his hair as his mouth hungrily worked at your core. 

You opened your eyes to glance down at him, unsure of how to take his compliment while he was busy doing such lewd things to you. 

He caught the silly grin on your lips at his words— so pure and gentle. The innocent curve of your mouth only made him want more. He gently grabbed at your thighs, spreading them even further.

The soft moan of approval slipping from your tongue had an involuntary groan breaking from his chest. 

With every sweet sound off your lips he dived deeper into you. His mouth was expertly working you toward your release, and just as you felt the pressure getting ready to snap, he pulled away.

He rested between your legs, his torso propped up just enough to get a good look at you.

“Let’s grab a bite to eat after this.” His statement came out in a breathless whisper. It seemed more like a question with the way his eyes were looking up, watching intently. 

You tried to hide the giggle that at your lips as a small smile took over your expression.

What on earth prompted him to bring this up while he had you on the verge of coming undone on his tongue?

But also, why was it so sweet? The way his words held such sincerity felt extremely intimate.

“Just- I want to take you out somewhere.” His grin was wide as he watched you react to his ill-timed inquiry.  

He knew it was late and maybe you wouldn’t be interested, but he couldn’t help but ask. 

Watching your back arch under his touch and hearing your sweet whimpers fill his ears had him losing his patience.

He needed more of you.

Needed it so badly that he was stopping himself from tasting your sweet release just to ask for more of your time. The two of you were only ever together in a dimly lit apartments under bed sheets, he wanted to go out with you; somewhere different, somewhere new. He wanted to take you to grab a coffee down the street at that place that stays open until 2am. He wanted to ask you questions about yourself and watch you smile while you talked— to see the sweet curve of your lips that he'd grown so attached to. 

Maybe he wasn’t much of a relationship guy, but he couldn’t deny the feelings he harbored for you. 

“Like a date?” You were leaning back on your elbows with your eyebrows raised subtly at his suggestion. 

“Yeah, a date.” 

“Ok Robby. I’ll go on a date with you.” Your smirk met his idiotic grin as he dove back down, satisfied by your answer.

He resumed his previous actions with a fervor of victory.

“Perfect.” The word was messy as it left his lips and landed directly on your core. 

It wasn’t long before your body was tensing, and mumbled profanities filled the room at your release. Even though you had just finished on his tongue, you weren’t done. You wanted to let him fuck you into the sheets, to repay him for getting you off, but he refused. No— he was determined to follow through on his promise.

The two of you walked side by side to grab a coffee at nearly midnight; you laughing and him watching, as he got to know you outside of the walls of your apartment.

idea 4 plz

gym crush!abbot :) like look at his biceps. you know that man hits the gym when he’s not working.

jack spots you, a regular that caught his eye a few months ago, one night—he likes to go when it’s dark cause that’s when the gym is emptiest and it works with his sleep schedule—doing squats with no spotter. he ends up stalking over to you. you’re gonna hurt yourself doing some shit like that and it’ll finally let him see how good your ass looks in those shorts up close