codewren

[codewren]

fucckkk I was reading something about not letting robby penetrate u but u let him slide against u and my APP REFRESHED PLEASE HELP IF U KNOW????

*reposted w/ tags to see if someone knows 🥹

[codewren]

camp toska

michael robinavitch x reader

an enemies to lovers short story

Michael Robinavitch needs a break. He’d roll himself into his own grave before admitting that to anyone - admitting that to himself. But when a longtime friend calls on him for a favor, he’s packing his bags and handing over the ED’s reigns. A two week paid vacation to hang out in peace in the wilderness, patch up a couple of scraped knees & sleep comfortable on a king size bed in an air conditioned cabin on the north side of Lake Toska. How eventful could it be?

chapter one.

[codewren]

CAMP TOSKA - ONE

Doug lied.

There is no air conditioning.

There is, in fact, no king sized bed.

All that’s here is an irritating, know it all psychologist (who Robby pissed off not even five minutes into meeting) and two full sized cots – one on each side of the twelve by twenty cabin. A grand, stone fireplace stands tall against the back wall, the only thing separating the two. Not like they’ll need it, Robby thinks, watching as you slam the cabin door closed. The screen door slowly follows, chasing its predecessor with a pitiful groan.

Same, Robby thinks.

He falls back on his mattress, head barely missing the wall and felt dangling comically off the end. Two weeks, he sighs heavy through his nose. Two weeks.

- Robby needed a break. He’d roll himself into his own grave – pick the plot and single handily shovel it hollow — before he admitted that to anyone, let alone himself. He doesn’t truly remember how it came up in conversation. A friend from his residency was back in town on his way to California. Inoki was a brand new, three Michelin star Japanese restaurant with an open bar that Robby had heard too many good things about. He even had a gift card given to him by the chef after Robby oversaw his emergency gallbladder surgery a few months back. Two bottles of sake and a whiskey sour later, and Robby was seriously considering Doug’s proposition.

“I mean, think about it,” Doug said with a too white, too charming smile. “A two weeks vacation – paid – in the woods, at the lake.. and all you gotta do is, what? Patch up a couple of scraped knees? Maybe teach some teenager to properly use his epipen after a bee sting?”

Robby raised his eyebrows, nodding along in half amusement, swallowing the remnants of his drink.

“Careful now. Just say a king bed and mention some air conditioning and I might just say yes.” Doug stayed all toothy, glimmering more like a real estate agent than an MD.

“I can make that happen, Robinavitch.”

It didn’t take anyone on Robbys end any convincing. Dana thought it was the best idea since sliced bread, a hard slap to the shoulder and a wide smile. “Where’s Robby and what did you do with him?” Jack just got it. No questions asked, just a full, lengthy TedTalk of all the cool camping gear he could lend him. And Gloria? Well, she was just excited to code in ED vacation time for once – muttering something about not having to pay chief attending rates while he was gone.

His residents may have thought a meteor was falling when they heard the news, but they’d get over it. Robby was sure his day time replacement would allow their blood pressure to return to normal, human levels for once – do them some good for the old mean and stern Robinavitch to go MIA for a while.

A day after his night out with Doug, the camp consent forms were signed and his time off request approved. Robby dropped his backpack at the door, kicking it closed as he works himself out his jacket. Shoes were next, toed off at the heel. A bad habit, but Robby was a man made of many.

His ritual continued in the kitchen, arms raised to pull his scrub top off by the scruff. A cold beer in hand and dinner forgotten, Robby sunk into the couch, using the hard edge behind the cushions to stretch his neck. The comforting sound of loneliness embraced him once again, creeping down his neck to return home in the pit of his belly. It smothered the day time flames of anxiety, allowing Robby to feel… content. No pagers, no code alarms. He gripped the TV remote in his free hand, mindlessly flipping through channels as he polished off his drink. A vacation.

For once, he allowed himself to welcome home another rare commodity – excitement.

- The drive up to the lake was only three and a half hours. It gave Robby peace of mind to know if there was truly an emergency, it wouldn’t take long for him to get back. It was far enough away, however, that he felt comfortable setting up an automatic response for his email.

Out of town, please forward all emergencies to MD Abbot, ext. 205 in the ED.

Thanks,

Dr. Michael Robinavitch.

With a rental truck, a backpack of personal items, and one of Jack’s doomsday prepper bags (that could allow Robby to perform open heart surgery – twice), Robby hit the road, his only traveling companions a cup full of coffee, channel 94.5 Pittsburgh Classic Hits, and a heavy chest that seemed to lighten just an inch with every passing mile marker. By the time he pulled under the ‘Welcome, Campers!’ Sign and found parking, Robby was ready to dig his toes in the sand by the lake, aviators perched upon a sun kissed nose, at least ten chapters deep in a book.

Thanks to the classic tree trunk and wooden arrow signs, it was not too hard to find the medical pavilion. It was a short walk away from the main path, tucked inside its own circle of trees. There were two buildings connected by a breezeway of twisted tree branches, a dirt and gravel path leading the the stairs. The buildings themselves were painted a dull red, a big contrast from the deep wood the rest of the cabins were crafted from. Time chipped away at the old siding, stairs creaking under his weight as Robby climbed them. The front, double doors were propped open and the lights on, giving Robby to green light to get a little more nosy.

The actual medical cabin itself was impressive, five infirmary beds separated by curtains, shelves lining the walls with cabinets stocked full of alcohol wipes, bandaids, gauze, fiberglass cast tape, sutures, pre-packaged sterile gloves and wound care kits. Robby let out a low whistle. He hoped we wouldn’t need most of these supplies, but between them and Jack’s backpack, he felt pretty confident about the next two weeks.

“Am I okay to assume you’re the primary physician or should I be worried that a stay-away camp’s medical tent is being robbed?”

Robby turned to find you, chuckling before closing the doors of the cabinet he was elbow deep in.

“Well, you know what they say about assuming.” He approaches with wide steps, reaching out his hand. “Dr Robinavitch, but I go by Dr. Robby – ‘s easier.”

“Ah,” you nodded, shaking his hand with impressive professionalism. “You’re Doug’s friend? He told me a lot about you.”

“Oh, really now?” He tilted his head to the side, letting out a sheepish laugh. “I’m so sorry.. Doug didn’t..”

“Tell you about me?” You laughed, introducing yourself. “I’m the primary psychologist on staff. And It’s okay, I didn’t assume he’d mention anyone in his pitch to finally get a doc up here.” You smiled wide before adding, “You know what they say about assuming.”

Robby smiled wide in return. Well, Doug, thank you for the vacation gift.

“This place is pretty decent, and so was his pitch.” He raised an eyebrow, dropping your hand. “Finally get a doc up here.. what do you mean by that?”

“Well, this camp leaves little to be desired.. it’s not really a vacation, you know?”

His eyes fell and your stomach followed, nails digging into your palms at the latent tension.

“Please tell me Doug told you everything.”

“I’m.. starting to get the feeling he didn’t.” He shoved his hands in the pockets of his jeans, bouncing back on his heels, chin pointed to the ceiling like he was saying a short prayer. “Don’t tell me like this camp is full of unvaccinated children and I’m going to be knee deep in spinal fluid to test for meningitis?”

You choked back a laugh, waving a hand in front of you to clear the air.

“God, no – all participants are required to be vaccinated before they get here.”

“A camp full of prisoners funded by the government to dig holes in search for buried treasure?”

That forced the laugh out of you.

“It’s a pretty sadistic job, but not like that, no.” You took a breath, watching his huge palm cup his own face, sparkling brown eyes taking pity on you as if you were about to break the news that you actually stole him away to the woods to work on a new strand of infectious disease. “It’s a grief camp for adolescents.”

“Yeah,” he hummed, eyes flicking to everywhere but yours as he surveyed the room, bringing his hand down over his beard before dropping it to his side with a heavy exhale. “That’s a pretty sadistic vacation.”

“I’m sorry..”

“Don’t be,” he shook his head, crossing his arms across his broad chest. “I’m already here so there’s no point in backing out. Just gives me time to cook up some revenge for Doug.”

“Here,” you perked up, changing the subject, leaning down to grab his bags. “Let’s get you settled in. Through here is the door to our cabin.” You nodded towards a door against the side wall, a door that Robby assumed you had entered from.

“Our?” He grimaced, slinging the remaining backpack over one shoulder.

“Well, I hope you don’t mind sharing.”

There wasn’t much of the residence cabin to give him a tour of, but you worked with what you had. Placing his backpack on the side of his cot, you gave an abashed smile, stepping back to give him as much space as possible in the tiny cabin.

“Hope you don’t snore.”

Robbys lips remained twisted, nodding as he looked around, like he has been expecting such quarters.

“It’s no king sized bed with air conditioning but it’ll do.”

You laughed, brushing off his comment as a joke, but his eyes remained on yours with a tight jaw.

“He did not - you’re kidding!” You gasped. “That’s just mean.. we haven’t had air conditioning up here since… well, I can’t remember.” You plopped on your cot, watching as Robby got comfortable unpacking. “Now I’ll have to think of something to do to get Doug back for that.”

You grabbed your own bag, pretending to unpack slowly, matching Robby’s pace as you stole a glance or two.

Robby was… taut. His shoulders constantly at his ears, eyes downcast and downtrodden as if there were a permanent hole he could fall in at any moment. His muscles were tense, every movement painfully precise, thumbing though books to set out on his bedside. The creases between his brows seemed to remain there, following the bridge of his nose and out under his eyes, joining the purple tinted skin of his bags. He looked exhausted. Poor guy, you thought. He really did think this was going to be a vacation. On the other hand…

There were worse men you could have been stuck in a cabin for two weeks with. He was inappropriately handsome. His eyes were a collected handful of colors, golden brown with sparks of green whenever the sun would hit right through the cabin window. His beard was neatly trimmed against his face, shadowing pink, pouty lips that looked incredibly satisfying to bite into. And he was tall – god, he was tall and broad and strong.

“You know.. while you’re here, you could join in on some of my classes. Tell the kids a thing or two about the grief you handle everyday.”

With Robby’s back to you, you couldn’t see he stopped moving. So you continued.

“Doug told me you were right in the belly of the pandemic. I can’t imagine how much loss you saw. And to lose someone yourself—“

“I’m sorry.. are you.. trying to psychoanalyze me?”

“Oh god, no!” You panicked, eyes wide as you rambled on. “I just — wanted you to feel welcome, you know? Like, you could come with us swimming, for sure, but you give much more ‘read a book in a lounger’ guy, so ya know.. thought that maybe.. you could benefit from some grief work.”

“Benefit?” He laughed, a single, forced exhale. “What, Doug talk you into this, too?”

“Doug? No! You’re a trauma room doctor so I figured you might want to —“

“You figured wrong.” His eyes glared into yours, gaze heated. His voice was strong and clipped, daring you to continue debating. “Keep your grief classes to yourself. Just..” He flexed his fists by his side, jaw twitching in tandem. “I’m here to provide medical care. That’s all.”

So much for being handsome. You grit your teeth, taking a stabilizing breath before swinging yourself off the cot, slipping on your shoes and snatching your coat off the hook. Grabbing tight to the door handle, you refused to entertain him with a look back before storming out, slamming it behind you. Might as well head to the main offices to get a head start on paperwork.

Robby falls back on his mattress, head barely missing the wall and felt dangling comically off the end. Two weeks, he sighs heavy through his nose. Two weeks.

[codewren]

Michael Robinavitch’s Body x Reader Moodboard 💕

[codewren]

A Mistake Worth Repeating / M. Robinavitch

summary: waking up naked next to the day shift attending ensures nothing chaos.

warnings: 18+ mdni! Smut smuuuut, one night stands, my attempt at humor in a language that’s not my mother tongue, unprotected sex, breeding, age gap (late 20s/50), oral (F&M), urgh just basic manhandling from Robby cause it’s canon, English isn’t my first language<3

word count: 4.3k+

an: this was supposed to be a long filled with heavy plot kind of fic but it wasn’t fun anymore to write it so I cut it short:( i have two longer fics planned for the future so for now enjoy this! A very special thank you to @m-robinavitch for putting up with my thoughts💕💕

“Robby!”

Your giggles fill the hotel suite as he buries his face into your neck, his beard scratching the soft skin slightly. He has you pressed into the door, one knee between your legs, with one hand bracing himself next to your head and the other holding your jaw in place.

You’re drunk, he is drunk, and the shots you took at the bar together just fueled the mood for more trouble. Not just the shots, but the way you’ve been glancing at each other all night from across the room before you stepped next to the other subtly, without anyone noticing.

He was funny in telling you about Jack’s rendezvous with Samira and how they would sneak around and try to act nonchalant when someone confronted them. You didn’t dare to interrupt him, tell him you have already heard all those little dates they could manage to make time for.

Nevertheless, he managed to charm you without trying too hard, especially since you haven’t started your rotation between night and day shifts yet, so he had your thighs clenching together nicely.

“I’ve been holding myself back from touching you all night, doll,” he mutters against your skin, loving back to your lips to press a quick rough kiss on them, “Looking like a dream in this dress, I can only imagine how better you’d look without it.”

“Lucky you, you’re about to find out,” you say, guiding his hands to the zipper of your dress before reaching to untuck his shirt from his pants, slowly unbuttoning it while his tongue dances with yours in your mouth, tasting the tequila you had earlier.

He pulls your zipper down, his hand sneaking under the fabric as soon as a sliver of your skin is exposed, feeling the heat of your body while he sucks the air out of your lungs.

There is no space left between your bodies. He is crushing you against the door with his tall frame and his shoulders cage you with ease, not to mention how he lets a little of his weight press on you to pin your body just where he wants you.

His fingers dig into your back as he litters his kisses down to your collarbone, breathing heavily against your skin when you finally put your hands on his exposed chest, feeling the warmth of his skin and his heartbeat under your touch.

“Fuck it,” he whispers against the shell of your ear, pushing the straps of the dress down until he has the fabric pooling around your waist, baring your tits to his hungry eyes, “Jesus— I wanted to taste you, but we’ll get to that later.”

You don’t have time to process his words when he groans and starts biting the line of your breast, leaving his teeth mark until he reaches your nipple, sucking on the tightened bud vigorously, humming as he feels your flesh moving with each time his cheeks hollow.

You throw your head back on the door, one of your hands moving to his head while the other scratches his chest and stomach slowly, gasping when he pulls back just a little to blow cold air on your wet nipple.

“You’re crazy,” you chuckle breathlessly — already this out of breath is pretty shocking — and look at him with hooded eyes, waiting impatiently for more.

“You drive me crazy,” he mumbles on your chest, clearly enjoying how you push his face closer to your other breast, and he takes no longer than a second to start kissing a path from your sternum down to your belly, ignoring your whining as he denies your silent request.

He gets down on both knees, pushing up your dress without breaking eye contact, his hands roaming your bare thighs before moving to pull down the strings of your thong, letting the thin fabric drop around your ankles. He helps you out of one of them, grabbing the back of your thighs and hauling one leg over his shoulders — the one with your thong dangling from your foot — before he starts planting kisses from your knees up to your inner thigh.

His eyes never leave yours, not for a second, as he takes in every micro expression on your face, from the little hitch in your breath to the way you frown at the pain of his teeth sinking into your flesh with need.

He doesn’t dive in head first into your pussy, instead, he slowly kisses your bikini line, teasing your further until he reaches your wet folds, groaning at the musky scent of your wetness before he licks a stripe from your hole up to your pubic bone, making your back arch off the door.

“I want to make you come on my face,” he whispers, pushing his tongue between your folds while he closes his eyes at the taste, humming and pushing himself closer to you as much as he can, “No, I need to make you come.”

That’s it. That’s his undoing as he buries his face into your cunt in a second without hesitation. You don’t have time to brace yourself, even though you were expecting him to turn into a total menace and eat you out like a late-night snack.

The tip of his tongue circles your clit, eyes closed and brows pulled into a pleased frown before he engulfs your bud with his mouth, sucking on the nerves like his life depends on it, his hand on your thigh pressing you into the wooden door behind you.

You clutch the back of his head, gasping and bucking your hips into his face as he flattens his tongue again, suckling faster and harder. No one has ever managed to make you come just by going down on you, and it’s happening stupidly fast. You are not to blame for this; it is all Robby’s doing with how he finally opens his eyes and looks at you, raising a taunting eyebrow at your euphoric expression.

He looks good between your thighs, he looks like he belongs there, on his knees just to bring you to your high. You look down at him with parted lips as moans of his name fall from them like a prayer, the wrinkles on his forehead deepening while he watches you in awe as you fall apart on his tongue.

The orgasm comes fast, sharp, exploding like a bomb through you. It is a mix of everything, truly; Robby’s blown pupils, the smugness in his orbs, the way his fingers dig into your hips, his beard burning your skin. It becomes too much suddenly, and you release all over his face, which he drinks up like a man starved.

“Robby!”

You throw your head back, not knowing whether you are pushing his head away or you are pulling him closer. But you are sure of one thing: he just gave you one of the most mind-blowing orgasms of your life, and he knows it.

“Fucking delicious,” he groans against your drenched folds, slowly standing up while he kisses your hips, then your belly and up to your chest, until he reaches your neck, “Sweetest thing I’ve ever tasted in my life.”

You know he is lying, especially with the amount of alcohol you both had, but it doesn’t matter. He is too fucking sexy when he is sucking unforgivable marks on the expanse of your shoulders and jaw.

“Do you wanna taste yourself, doll? Should I kiss you now?”

You nod eagerly, fisting his coat before you yank him closer, crashing your lips into his, feeling his wet beard rubbing against your face so deliciously. He kisses back just as passionately, pulling you away from the door with one palm over your ass — grabbing a handful as soon as he can — and the other on your back to guide you to the bed.

You both stumble over your steps, and if it wasn’t for Robby being more sober — barely but still — you would end up dead with a cracked skull. 

You can feel him trying to turn you around and lie you down on the bed, but you are quicker than he and stand stiff for a second before you make sure you both are standing in front of the foot of the bed, pulling away from his lips for a second.

“What are you doing—holy fuck,” he chuckles when you push him on his back, basically letting him land on the bed with a little jump. He looks so big from this angle, splayed out on the bed with his legs spread and sitting on his elbows, chest open to your greedy eyes, and the tie hanging around his neck loosely.

“Your turn now,” you shimmy out of your dress, standing naked between his long legs before slowly lowering yourself on your knees, biting your lip when you notice how he is looking at you, with red cheeks, swollen lips, and desperate for more.

“You don’t have to—“

“But I want to,” you whisper, running your palms over his covered thighs, eyes finally falling on the impressive bulge in his pants. “There is a myth going around, thanks to Myrna, that you’re hung like a horse. I have to see it for myself.”

“I didn’t know the night shift talked about my dick,” he sucks in a sharp breath, eyes glazing over your satisfied smirk as you kiss the throbbing member through his pants before licking a stripe from the bottom of the zipper up to where you assume his tip is.

“Myrna talks, we discuss,” you shrug, reaching to undo his belt, sucking on your bottom lip as you feel him twitch in his pants already. You pull the belt out of the loops, dropping it on the floor before you reach for his button, then you lean down, grabbing the zipper between your teeth and slowly dragging it down, smirking at how Robby fists the sheets so he doesn’t embarrass himself.

He raises his hips to help you pull his pants and boxers down, freeing his cock from the tightness of the fabrics after being hard for a good few hours since he started drinking with you.

It is no longer a myth; he is big. Not just big, but thick, long, and so fucking pretty. You have seen a few dicks when you had the chance during med school, but this is pretty as fuck. His tip is pink and leaking with precum, the base is a few shades darker than his skin, and there is a bush coating his pelvis.

“So?”

“I think I’ll die if I don’t get you in my mouth now.” You blink at him, giving him your best puppy eyes you can, “Do you mind if I get a bit messy?”

“Be my guest, doll,” he reaches for your face, his hand cupping the side of your face as you angle the head of his cock to your mouth, gathering your spit in your mouth as much as you can before you drop the globe on him, your hand moving to coat his entire member with it, “Jesus fucking Christ.”

You rub the wet tip over your lips before licking it, humming at the bitter and salty taste of his precum before you move lower, letting your lipstick that left a stain on Robby’s face do the same on the base of his cock too. 

You move back up to take him in your mouth, opening your jaw more to take him inside — his base is a bit thicker than the rest of him — gagging when the tip hits the back of your throat. 

Fuck, he looks so good now; cheeks flushed, eyes hazy with lust, and fingers threading through your hair. Robby’s lips are parted, ragged breaths falling from them as he rests his hand on your head, watching you work your way on his cock before slowly pulling back.

“Fuck my face?” You ask so sweetly, voice dripping with desire, waiting for his answer, and when he hesitates, running his thumb over your eyebrow, you pout a little, “Please?”

“Tap my thigh whenever you want to stop, alright?”

You nod eagerly, giggling before you put him in your mouth again, lowering your head until he is back inside your throat, resting your hands on his thighs.

“Good girl,” he sighs, pushing your head down a bit more, groaning at the feeling of your throat tightening around him at the praise, “You liked that, didn’t you?”

You want to nod, but you have got a mouthful of him for now. Later, you have a more important mission than telling him you liked the praise. You reach for his hand, pressing it down to tell him it’s okay, but he doesn’t.

“Why aren’t you—“

“I want to watch you do it,” he smirks, nodding at your hands, “Put them behind your back and fuck your own throat, doll.”

“Why?” The proposition excites you even more than him fucking you himself, because it is much hotter to have him watch while you do all the dirty work to please him.

“I wanna see how good you take the lead.”

You don’t need him to say anything more; instead, you lock your hands behind your back, watching with bated breath as he grabs hold of his cock and slaps it against your cheek before you chase the tip with eager mouth, taking him in immediately.

Robby hums, caressing your head while you begin to bob your head up and down his length, pulling groans and sighs out of his lips with ease, even gagging when the tip goes deeper down your throat. 

He loves this. He loves the way you are so excited to please him, how ready you are to give up control and listen to him. He lets you set the pace — which to his delight is quite fast — and with each movement, the moans you let out vibrate through his dick and make his balls tighten.

He is getting close; he doesn’t want this to finish too soon, you can tell. He is not the young man he used to be, but this only spikes your interest to go faster until he has to yank you off his cock, shaking his head with a breathless laugh as you loll out your tongue and lick from his base to the tip.

“Not too fast, I wanna enjoy this,” he nods for you to join him on the bed as he sits up, shrugging off his shirt and tie, dropping his pants to his ankles while you straddle him, knees spread wide around his large frame, “I’ll lose my fucking mind now, c’mon, ride me, doll.”

“Gladly,” you put your hands on his chest, pushing him on his back again before grabbing his cock, holding him up by the base before you mount him, slowly lowering yourself, “Fuck, fuck, Robby—“

You suck in a sharp breath as you sit on him, trying not to take him all in at once, but he feels too good to stop anyway. He feels bigger inside you than when he did in your mouth, and he is stretching your walls so deliciously that your eyes roll to the back of your head, thighs clenching around his hips, and hands bracing your weight on his chest.

Robby reaches to hold you by your waist, cooing gently when you hiccup, and finally takes all of his fat cock inside you, his tip kissing your cervix with each micro movement. He closes his eyes to enjoy the warmth that’s enveloping his entire length, his grip tightening on you as you slowly begin to rock your hips, circling them gently with your mouth hanging open and eyes squeezed shut.

“You good there?” He asks, the cockiness dripping from his tone when he notices how you are struggling to move up and down, thighs burning and cunt filled with him, “Come on, doll, I thought you wanted to ride me.”

“I do—“ you gasp as you lift yourself a little by putting more pressure on his chest, dropping back down quickly, making him groan at the feeling, “Help me a little, please?”

“How can I say no when you are asking so sweetly?” His grin matches yours as his hands move down to grab the globes of your ass, helping you move up and down faster, his strength catching you off guard.

You rake your nails in his pecs, moving down to his stomach while you feel how close you are getting, your clit catching the happy trail leading to his cock while you throw your head back and keep up your pace.

“Fuck me– faster, please, please—“

Robby pulls out of you instantly, flipping you on your back before he steps out of his pants before crawling on top of you, grabbing the pillow next to your head before he places it under your hips, holding your thighs so he can pull you closer. He drops your knees over his elbows, hand moving to your hips as he watches you line him up with your wet entrance again.

“So fucking good, doll, best pussy I’ve ever had,” he practically whines when he thrusts all of his length inside you in one move, picking up where he left with how fast he is fucking you, driving his cock into your cunt with a dark glint in his eyes, “Touch yourself, make yourself come.”

One hand fists the bedsheets and the other travels down to your clit, two fingers moving in circles as you arch your back off the bed, wailing at the feeling of him angling his hips in hope of finding your sweet spot — which he does after a few seconds. 

“What a vision you are… fuck, you’re close, aren’t you?” His chest rises and falls rapidly, his hips slamming into yours, and in a second after you nod, you are crying out his name, fingers still attached to the bundle of nerves, and his cock driving into you with determination.

Your legs shake on his forearms, velvety walls clenching so hard around him, gushing around his girth as he fucks you through your climax, closing his eyes.

He lets go of your legs, bends down to cage you under his body, burying his face into your neck as he fucks you a bit harder, thrusting deeper and rougher until you feel him trembling on top of you.

You wrap your legs around his waist, locking your heels and pressing them to his ass, arms looping around his broad shoulders to keep him close.

“Come for me, Robby.” You catch his earlobe in your mouth, nipping at it softly, “Fill me up, please… I’m on birth control—“

“Fuck, fuck!”

He drops his entire weight on you, hips pressing into yours tightly as he empties his balls deep into your core, thick ropes of his warm cum coating your insides, stuffing you full immediately.

He is not finished, though; he is still coming. He is shaking, his hips thrusting shallowly inside you, while his cock twitches and shoots another load inside you. You can feel him dripping out of your cunt already.

“Another round?”

“Jesus Christ, doll,” he laughs breathlessly against your neck, “Let me take a breath and I’ll fuck you till sunrise.”

  •••••••

It’s hot. It’s really, really hot. Steaming hot, sweating in your ass crack hot. That’s what wakes you up from the calmest sleep you have ever had, and that is exactly what you should be concerned about, given the state you wake up in.

The first thing you notice is how naked you are; nude as the day you were born, with barely any blanket covering you. And what’s worse… is a thick hairy arm draped over your bare waist, a bearded face squished against your neck.

There is a man in your bed, just as naked as you are, and he is lying halfway on top of you, crushing your body with his weight. He is running hot, and it’s making you sweat out your bones, but the proximity would be nice if you weren’t in Bali and mosquitoes weren’t so annoying.

Fucking Bali. You’ll kill Samira and Jack when you see them.

You feel the headache coming from a mile away, and when it does, it makes you groan. It’s bad, and it only gets worse when you realize how dehydrated you must be. Lots of shots, lots of beers, lots and lots of alcohol consumed with Robby…

Who?! Robby? Robby…

“What?” You whisper, your voice raspy from sleep, as you try to wiggle around in the guy’s firm grasp. You don’t have to go too far when you see the tattoo on his biceps. Memento Mori. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuckfuckfuckfuck—

Robby. The man who is basically pinning you to the bed, naked, with light snoring, is Robby. The day shift attending, your future attending, when you start rotation. Over twenty years older than you, Jack’s best friend. It’s Robby!

“Fuck- fuck, okay—“ you run a hand down your face, trying to push Robby’s arm over so you can get out of the way, but it only makes things worse, because now he is groaning and rubbing his eyes, moving to rest on his back.

“Good mornin’.”

“It’s not a good morning– move!” You try to push him off you, but in the process, you fall on your butt on the floor, legs twisting in the sheets, “What were you thinking?”

“What the fuck?” Robby sits up, blinking away the tiredness as he looks at you with wide eyes and a deep frown as you try to free yourself from the covers, “What do you mean?”

“I meant sleeping with a first-year resident!” You hiss at him, finally standing up with your hands on your hips, “This is bad, Robby.”

“And why is it bad? I don’t remember you being upset about how many times I fucked you last night,” he grabs the side of his neck with both hands, looking you up and down, his cock stirring at the sight.

“Fucking pervert–“ you grab the covers, yanking them off the bed and wrapping them around yourselves as you glare at Robby’s flushed yet smug smirk, “I was drunk.”

“You weren’t that drunk, doll,” he sighs, his mouth turning downward as you try to walk towards the bathroom, nearly falling face first on the floor again. “Where are you going? C’mon, let’s talk it out–“

“Look, it was fun, really fucking fun, okay? Probably the best fucking sex I’ve ever had— wipe that smile off your fucking face before I do it myself!”

“Calm down!” It’s Robby’s time to snap at you, shaking his head as he looks down at his bare body — his dick especially — waking up slowly. 

“Oh, wow, great. You’re getting hard from this?” He growls and grabs a pillow, putting it on his cock to cover it, “It’s not like I haven’t seen it before.”

“Says you who’s covering herself like I didn’t tie you to bed last night,” he shakes his head, giving you a tired look, “Listen, doll, I don’t regret it—“

“But it was… a mistake…”

“Probably yeah,” he smiles at you, watching how you slowly let the covers go before walking back to the bed, “But I don’t regret it. HR wise, yeah, we should, and also, Jack and Samira will berate us for it for days.”

“But you don’t regret it?” You sit down next to him, looking down at your hands on your lap, before he puts his fingers under your jaw to force you to look him in the eye.

“Nope, not one second of it,” he shrugs, “I probably should, but that was the best sex I’ve ever had too. We can leave here and pretend nothing happened, or… we can work it out.”

“You’re willing to do that?” You smile a little, beaming when he turns red, “Like… you know, dating outside of work, me coming on day shift during rotation and stuff…”

“As long as you are okay with it, I have no problem,” he nudges your elbow with his, “But we gotta see if we can actually work without making shit weird in the Pitt…”

“Yeah, well I think–“ you are interrupted by the sound of your phone ringing, making you both jump out of the bubble you had earlier, “Fuck, I promised Samira I’ll help her choose her outfit, fuck—“

“I gotta go then,” he says, standing up, giving you a very, very delicious view of his naked back as he bends down to collect his clothes, putting them on one by one while you run to answer the phone.

He gets dressed quickly, bending over the bed to peck your lips while you talk on the phone before he dashes out before anyone catches sight of him leaving your room.

Unfortunately for him, it seems Samira and Jack are already in the elevator when the doors open, looking at him with wide and curious eyes. Robby is only wearing his dress pants and the white shirt he had on last night, with his coat and tie hanging from his forearm.

“Nice look,” Samira says, squeezing Jack’s arm as they both try not to burst out laughing.

“Yeah, thanks,” Robby clears his throat, standing with his back to the couple, trying not to show how much he is blushing.

“Good wedding night, huh? Where’s the bride?” Jack asks, walking around Robby to see the purple marks on his neck and chest, courtesy of leaving the few buttons on the top undone.

“What the fuck do you mean? It was the fucking mosquitoes, who even have their wedding in Bali anymore?”

“Tell the mosquitoes we said hello,” Samira snickers as she grabs Jack’s hand again, walking out of the elevator as soon as the doors are opened, “Join us for breakfast, please.”

“Bring the mosquitoes if you can—“

“Fuck off.”

[codewren]

Hey Wren,

I'm your Pitt Gift Exchange Partner ^-^

I'm an NSFW writer and so excited to work on your gift.

I've never written enemies to lovers, but I love to take on new tropes.

Do you have a preference between Abbot or Robby, or would you like me to choose? Also I'm assuming you want an x Fem!Reader insert, but I want to double-check before I get started. If you have any additional kinks you'd like to see, please lmk!

Those are all my questions for now. I hope your own assignment is going well 💛

WAIT I’M SO EXCITED AAAA

Listen, I’m a Robby girl to my core. I tried Jack I just — I can’t get with him 😭 so Robby all the way! Fem Reader insert is perfect 🤩

I don’t mind the trope or kinks, I’m open to anything other than incest/stepcest. That’s a hard no for me. Also the word ministrations. I hate that word 😔

THANK U!! 😊

[codewren]

mad respect to the writers who can world build and describe the setting cus i just wanna

[codewren]

em dash = AI is so crazy to me. the em dash is my best friend. i couldn’t stop using her if i tried — and i would never try because i love her.

[codewren]

said that 5 minutes into his shift mind you

[codewren]

camp toska

michael robinavitch x reader

an enemies to lovers short story

Michael Robinavitch needs a break. He’d roll himself into his own grave before admitting that to anyone - admitting that to himself. But when a longtime friend calls on him for a favor, he’s packing his bags and handing over the ED’s reigns. A two week paid vacation to hang out in peace in the wilderness, patch up a couple of scraped knees & sleep comfortable on a king size bed in an air conditioned cabin on the north side of Lake Toska. How eventful could it be?

chapter one.

[codewren]

went MIA to move cross country but i’m back and i think ive got a banger?

[codewren]

Tummy Riding with Michael Robinavitch (inspired by @oldermenfucker)

Growing up, you’d been taught to drool over unnaturally muscular superhero actors. They were the ones on magazine covers, on the TV screens, on every fan-cam edit posted on TikTok. And you’d be lying if you said they weren’t attractive.

As for body hair, most of those bodybuilding men were smooth as a dolphin. Despite parading “manly men” with muscles upon muscles, none of those guys had a trace of chest hair. Maybe facial hair if you were a Hemsworth brother. In fact, you can remember the jump scare from seeing Corbin Bleu’s armpit hair in High School Musical as a kid. You had been trained to salivate over a silky smooth upper body with ridges sharp enough to cut diamond.

But for some reason, you found yourself disturbingly wet over the sight before you: your senior attending, and more importantly, your new boyfriend, changing into a new scrub top after a pediatric patient projectile vomited on his old one. You hadn’t meant to barge into the bathroom, but the door also wasn’t locked.

It was the first time you’d ever seen Robby shirtless. Sure, he was a man in good physical shape, but he wasn’t a Calvin Klein model. He ate healthy meals (after work), drank water (after work), played pickleball with Jack (after work), but those beers in the park (after work) seemed to linger in his gut. You had seen the outline of his pudgy stomach through the deceptive black scrub tops before, even dragged your fingernails along its rounded outline when trying to reach up to his neck while he kissed you tenderly on your first date.

But now? You could see it. The plushness of his abdomen, his broad shoulders proudly showcasing his soft chest, the glint of his Magen David against dark chest hair that stretched down, down, down to the waistband of his scrub pants.

Robby’s eyes snapped up to meet his intruder, but quickly relaxed when he saw you. “Hey, kid.” He breathed in relief.

You didn’t even hear his greeting over the sound of blood pounding in your ears. His body was an intoxicating view, and you may as well have been inebriated. In this moment, you were no better than a man. You tried to respond, but only broken sputters left your mouth.

Robby’s brow furrowed, and he stepped closer to you, dropping his large hands to your waist to ground you. “Hey, you okay?” He questioned, worried you’d come to find him to vent or cry.

You shuddered at the warmth that radiated from his bare upper body. A timid hand hovered over his chest, finally daring to brush against the coarse hair on his pecs. “Y-you just look…really good.”

The pathetic confession should have made you cower in shame, but when you saw Robby’s smile, you felt safe. “You think I look good? After I just got puked on?” He chuckled.

You nodded slightly, now running your hands firmly against his chest, tracing nonsensical pictures against his skin. “Yeah.” It was the only answer you could spare for him.

Robby’s chest shrunk at your ministrations, almost like he was trying to hide from your attraction. “Gotta get back to work.” He diverted, quickly pulling the fresh black scrub top over his head, hiding his magnificent body from your sight.

Your lips shifted to a pout. “Hey, I was enjoying the view.” You teased, watching as he grabbed the soiled shirt from the ground.

Robby’s face burned red, all the way to the tips of his ears. “I’m fifty years old. Not much to see there.” He replied lightly.

You grabbed him by the arm before he could sneak out of the bathroom. “Let me be the judge of that.” It wasn’t a warning, it wasn’t a threat. But your words still carried authority that overrode Robby’s self-deprecation.

He just smiled, truly smiled, crows feet and crooked teeth and all, and pecked your forehead with a sweet kiss before heading back into the chaos of the Pitt.

—

After a couple of beers in the park drowned away the woes of a grueling shift, you practically dragged Robby back to his home. With the right blood alcohol level, the chief of emergency medicine was suddenly putty in your hands.

As soon as the door closed behind him, Robby grabbed your thighs and hoisted you around his waist, kissing your neck and jawline all the way to his bedroom. You were already clenching around nothing, rolling your hips into his waist, ready for any amount of fucking he was willing to give you for the first time.

Everything progressed quickly, hotly, borderline romantically, until Robby made a quick dash to switch off the light to his bedroom, wearing only his scrub top and boxers. The room darkened with a flick of his fingers, and you almost growled.

“Absolutely not. Lights on.” You demanded.

And he obeyed. The lights relit the room, and you were met with a confused yet worried look on your boyfriend’s face. “You…want the lights on?” He repeated, even though he’d already followed your orders.

You nodded with purpose. “I want to see you.” You answered.

Robby’s face flushed, and he carefully walked back to the edge of the bed, sitting next to you. “Look, I know I’m not the fittest man at work. I mean, fuck, I’m not even the fittest old man at work-“

You pushed Robby back onto the bed, his head flopping onto his pillow while you peeled off your panties. “Take it off.” You breathed.

Robby’s lips morphed to an enchanted grin, charmed by your dominance. His hand reached to his waist, thumb digging under his boxers waistband, but you snatched it out. “Take your shirt off.” You clarified with a sharp tone.

Those big brown eyes never left yours, mesmerized by the authority behind your tone, and he slipped his scrub top over his shoulders, tossing it on the floor. His body was on display for you again, in all of its aged glory. You immediately bent down to smear wet kisses across his pecs, down to his soft tummy, sucking hickeys that drew a mixture of moans and giggles from his throat.

“You don’t have to do all this, kid.” He chuckled, threading a hand through your hair as you worshipped his body.

Your eyes flicked up, nearly glaring at him, before you threw a thigh over his waist, straddling his belly. The scratch of body hair on your pussy fired an immediate hiss from your lungs. “Let me show you how pretty you are.” You said, slowly rocking your hips. “Show you how good you make me feel just by looking at you.”

The slip of your pussy against his abdomen was vile. You received instant clitoral stimulation from his happy trail, and a sinful moan left your lips. Robby’s hands clutched your thighs, dragging you harder against him.

“This…this gets you that wet?” He stumbled through his words, eyes fixed on the wet stripe you were leaving on his stomach.

You glided back and forth, rolling and snapping your hips with a concentrated speed. “Robby…I was this wet when I saw you at work today. I wanted to do this on the bathroom floor.” You confessed.

A whimper left his chest while he tried to buck his own hips, frustrated by the lack of attention to his painfully hardened cock. “Baby, please let me fuck you.” He begged.

You just half-smiled, mouth open in ecstasy, pressing your hands firmly against his chest, steadying your balance as you rode him. “Oh, you’re gonna fuck me.” You confirmed, leaning forward a bit to give your clit just the right amount of pressure. “Wanna come like this first.”

And you did. The waves of your orgasm had you falling limp into Robby’s burly arms, trapping you in his embrace, your cum dripping down his rounded tummy. “Jesus, kid.” He mumbled in between sweet nothings to coax you down from your high.

He wasn’t appalled, and he wasn’t unnerved. He felt loved, and he felt adored. Nobody had ever gotten off on just the sight of his body, let alone rode his belly into an orgasm. After your breathing returned to normal and your kisses became responsive again, Robby flipped you onto your back, and you were presented with his gorgeous body once again.

“My turn.”

[codewren]

thinking about being at a bar & robby finds you in the onslaught — he really didn’t mean to get this drunk, truely. he’s a big guy! he can handle his liquor! but fuck if the sight of you in a top too small and a lick of gloss that shines everytime you smile didn’t own his gaze like a fucking dog to a bone, maybe he would have been more aware he’s on his third (fourth? fuck.) drink.

he uses the shitty lighting to follow you through the crowd to the dance floor, shaking off the angel hanging on by a thread on his shoulder as he snakes a thick arm around your waist, pulling him to his chest.

“dr robby! what are you doing here!?” you yell over the music, turning to him with a smile thats way too happy to be seeing your boss on the one saturday night you get off a month. you try to grab the attention of your friends - the only ones in town who haven’t sold their soul to healthcare, the only ones that can truly take your mind off work - to introduce him, but theyre quickly swallowed by the crowd, shimming closer to the dj’s booth.

robby’s eyes sparkle with something that echoes rum & coke & the summer stars as he leans down to whisper in your ear, nose brushing the sensitive space behind it, beard scratching on sensitive skin - voice bold and brazen.

“maybe I can just be michael tonight.”

[codewren]

For my mental health, I need to grind my pussy on someone’s bulge.

[codewren]

[codewren]

I don’t want casual I want you to eat me alive

[codewren]

WREN!

18+ only blog. minors dni.

26 • sagittarius • INFJ

currently only writing for The Pitt

Not kinkshaming, but.. I will not write about stepcest or any familial relationships.