#michael langdon x female!reader

[worldswithoutendings]

Eye for an eye [Michael Langdon] pt.4

Pairing: Michael langdon x female!reader

warnings: mentions of death

words: 1540

summary: your first date with michael and your first workday at Kineros (filler chapter)

AN: I'm still trying to figure out what format works best for me so bear with me, any feedback is highly appreciated <3

When the clock hit 7 you got ready for the dinner you had with Michael, all he said before he left after abusing your closet was to wear the dress and let your hair loose. But nothing more. So you added some black heels and a silver necklace. You did your makeup a tiny bit heavier than usual and for once you didn’t put on perfume in the hope that he would linger more around you like his coat did. Because damn he smells good it should be illegal.

I’m here.

you curse as you run down the stairs, almost breaking your ankle as you grab the door handle to reveal Michael. Clad in an all-black outfit, smelling absolutely divine and his short curls framing his face “Hi” you breathe out and Michael smiles at you “Look at you, you look stunning” he smiles as he holds out his arm “Shall we?” you say nothing, just taking his arm as you follow him to his car, which, of course, is also expensive “you’re picking me up in a Bugatti?!” you gasp out “what, it’s a nice car” “it is! But, so expensive” you breathe out and Michael laughs as he opens the door for you “my lady” “oh, thank you sir” you act with him as you sit down on the seat. Feeling the expensive seat as Michael sits in the driver seat.

Satan watches the two of them spend the day together from his throne “Good, everything is all going to plan” he says as he stretches his fingers out over the armchairs “Now we need to get rid of that Rosalie figure, I hope Michael hurries up with that girl”

Arm in arm you walk with Michael to the restaurant he picked out. And of course, it’s a Michelin-starred restaurant making you huff “What is it?” “I just feel out of place, I’m so used to visiting a McDonald's or a Five Guys as a date. Never set foot in a Michelin-starred restaurant” you mumble and Michael smiles “Good, I can show you how a real man is supposed to treat you” He walks inside with you and a guy comes scurrying towards you both “Mr. Langdon. Such an honor to have you here again. Shall we go to your booth?” the guy stumbles over his words and Michael gives a short nod

“do you come here often?” your mouth speaks before you can think “Yeah, not a lot. just for business” “Did you come here with Rosalie?” you ask self-conscious and Michael smirks “She is on your mind a lot isn’t she? The answer is no” he says as the guy mentions to the booth in the far back of the restaurant where the mood is actually kind of romantic “that’s a shame, it’s beautiful here” you say as you sit down in the booth, realizing both your knees are touching you scrape you throat “well, I only want to bring important people here. So, mostly Ms. Mead. But not since a few months ago” his voice dies down a bit and you can’t help but feel sorry for him even though you don’t know who Ms. Mead is and what happened a few months ago.

The food that was served was divine, just like the wine that was served. You talked about anything and nothing that your minds could think of, Michael even told you what happened to Ms. Mead. How she was set on fire and now, at Kineros they’re trying to make a robot version of her. Michael held her dear and close to his heart like he expected his grandmother to do ‘what happened to your grandmother?” you say as you put a piece of gnocchi in your mouth “She killed herself when she realized that I was aging to quick and murdering people instead of animals” his voice became flat and his knuckles were starting to turn white with how hard he was holding his utensils.

You couldn’t help yourself but touch his hand “I’m so sorry Michael” you whispered but you tried to sound neutral, knowing how much you hated it when your parents died and how everybody started to talk to you like a baby “You, you lost both your parents right?’ Michael asks questionably and you nod as you take a sip of your wine “my dad passed away of a cardiac arrest, my mother died shortly after due to a drug overdose, I was.. 16? Yeah, so, after the deal” your voice becomes quieter and quieter

“do you think that, you know, satan may be behind it? Seeing if I would get deranged?” “I don’t know, y/n, you have to ask him that” “I did actually, multiple times, but he waved it away, saying I was delusional” You play with a single piece of gnocchi and feel a hand on your kneecap. You sigh softly “he probably didn’t mean it like that, he also left me in the dark for years I didn’t know what I was supposed to do until I got to Kineros”

After dinner, Michael took you for a walk through the park. Deciding to sit on a bench with the hot coffee you bought from the stand even though Michael wanted to go to a coffee shop you shook your head “No this is actually good coffee!” you exclaimed so Michael wanted to believe you. And indeed, it was damn good coffee “So, tomorrow you can just come to Kineros, I’ll show you around and get you settled, you don’t have to worry about anything, well, maybe, your clothing but just, wear a button-up shirt or something. We’ll go shopping for it” Michael says before he takes a sip “damn, this is good coffee”

Nervously you arrived at Kineros the following morning. Especially because you just left your old job and your wrist still hurts. The clicking of your heels on the marble floor echoes off the walls as you see two guys with bowl cuts they must go to the same hairdresser because it looks awful. Michael is in a conversation with them but you see that all of a sudden he has trouble with his laughter

“Are you making fun of us?!” the brown-haired one exclaims and Michael immediately stops “No, no! I wouldn’t dare. You do look ridiculous” Michael exclaims and now you really have to hold in your laughter, they both turn around to look at you “Ah our new secretary! Miss y/n. right? We’d appreciate it if you respected our wishes,” the blonde one says immediately “actually, she only respects my wishes” Michael chimes in, yeah you wish.

You learned that their names are Jeff and Mutt, but you would mostly be working for Michael. Ruling over his agenda and keeping him up to date with meetings and calls. Further, you are the one responding to email, which mostly consists of rich dudes who are aching for their new sex doll.

A girl with a familiar face walks, well, storms in. looking like a drug dealer with her hair all matted, and clothes she had probably worn the last 2 weeks and never heard of the word shower or bath. She composes herself the moment she is at your desk and scrapes her throat “Yes?” you reply while you're typing an email to a client “I’m here to see my boyfriend, Michael” Oh shit it’s Rosalie “Are you scheduled?” “no?! I don’t need to schedule anything” she bursts out and you bite your lower lip “One second please,” you say as you reach for the phone. The foul stench of Rosalie makes its way to your nostrils Michael you’re kidding me. You only type in the number 1. Knowing it will connect to his office he immediately picks up “yes?” “Michael, you’re… girlfriend is here” he hangs up with a loud groan. Not much later his door opens and you hear him curse under his breath “Rosalie, what are you doing here. You can’t just barge in at my work” he says as he leans against the doorpost.

Rosalie immediately runs to him which means you can catch a breath we need to buy air fresheners and perfume and incense to get rid of this smell did she fall in a well or something?! You open up a website for fragrances to check out what can be delivered today as you try to hear the conversation as Michael doesn’t want her in his office “I have a meeting in 5 minutes” No you don’t “so you really need to leave” yes you absolutely do “but Michael! You promised!” she screams out “we were supposed to go on a date this week and you declined me! Twice! I can’t do this anymore!” Michael sighs deeply “Just, go. Rosalie. I’ll call you after the meeting okay” “Can I get a kiss?” “did you brush your teeth?” he blurts out and she gasps “Yes?!” she sounds incredibly shocked and you hear him audibly gulp. You reach for your bag as Michael cautiously gives her the tiniest peck on earth and she walks away confidently “Here” you wave around a travel-sized toothbrush and toothpaste you always keep in your bag.

[asxgard]

MASTERLIST

[ REQUESTS CLOSED ] list & rules

— Most my work is 18+. Anything marked with an astrik* contains explicit content. Minors DNI, you will be blocked.

— All work is my own. Please do not repost anywhere else without my consent.

Under the cut you’ll find all my works. Hope this helps you navigate!

The Pitt

Dr. Michael Robinavitch masterlist

Dr. Jack Abbot masterlist

Dr. Frank Langdon masterlist

Dr. John Shen masterlist (coming soon)

(Dr.) Dennis Whitaker masterlist (coming soon)

updated 04/25/2025

My AO3

[storiesaplenty]

The Pitt Masterlist

This has not been proofread. Please enjoy though.

Warnings: swearing. Smut below the cut. Oral (m receiving) cum swallowing. Anal. Use of butt plug.

WC: 1011

Divider by @strangergraphics

©️ storiesaplenty 2025: do not repost or translate my work. This is the only place I post my work. All readers are female, unless stated otherwise.

This part is Dr Robby, Dr Abbott, & Dr Langdon.

Dr. Michael "Robby" Robinavitch

My ponytail was wrapped tight in Dr Robby's fist as he held my head in place as he raised his hips back and forth. His other hand was closed in a fist, that was stuffed in his mouth to keep his moans down.

My hands were gripping his thighs as I let him use my mouth and throat for his pleasure, knowing how stressed he is.

The tip of his cock hit the back of my throat a bit too rough, and I gagged, making him throw his head back as he pulled himself completely out of my mouth.

I was gasping for air, knowing I wouldn't have much of a break before he thrust back into my mouth.

He placed both of his hands on the side of my head, forcing it back a bit further, as he looked down at me, and I must have been a sight. The little bit of eye makeup I wear, streaking down my face, the corners of my mouth coated in spit and precrum.

"Being so good for me, aren't you? Always know exactly what I need, don't you?" He thrust back into my mouth, with a loud groan.

His pace was brutal and not forgiving at all as he was so close to finishing.

With a grunt of my name, he stilled as the first rope of cum hit the back of my throat. His hips stuttered as he coated my throat.

I made sure to swallow it all, not wanting to miss a single drop of it.

I continued to suck, even after he was long done. Him trying to catch his breath.

Dr Robby helped me to my feet, kissing me, the two of us moaning at the taste of him on my lips.

"I promise to make it up to you at home." He mumbled against my lips.

"It's okay. I know how stressed you are but I will remind you later that you owe me."

Dr. Jack Abbott

I know Jack asked me a question, but I was too far gone to have heard him properly. Not with the way how his cock is just stretching me so perfectly.

I felt his hand on my throat, squeezing it just right as he pulled my body back, so my back is flushed against his chest.

He placed his mouth against my ear, nipping it before repeating himself.

"I said, what gives you the right to question me like that?" My whole body shivered at his tone. My pussy tightening around his cock.

Making him groan as he sped up his pace, if that was even possible.

"I'm sorry Jack. I didn't mean," I couldn't finish what I was saying, as he angled his hips just so, now prodding that spot inside of me that always makes me scream.

I had to cover my mouth, but Jack didn't like that. He moved my hand from my mouth.

"Gonna act like a brat on the floor. Let everyone here how I take care of your brattiness." I shook my head no, trying to stifle my moans as people were walking right outside this closet.

"Go on. Let them hear you. Let them hear you getting fucked by Dr Abbott."

The hand on my throat got a bit tighter and before I knew it, my whole body was shaking as came, my pussy clenching around his cock, forcing Jack to groan against my head.

He held himself back, fucking me through my orgasm until he couldn't hold back anymore.

He grunted my name as he stilled, his cock twitching in my pussy as he filled me.

My mouth hanging open as he came, triggering another small orgasm from me.

Jack pulled out of me, the two of us moaning at the loss of him inside of me.

"You good now Jack?" I asked him as I fixed myself up.

"Yeah, for now."

I rolled my eyes at my husband.

Dr. Frank Langdon

"Come on Frank, we don't have much time. Where?" I mumbled against his lips, as his hands squeezed my ass through my scrubs.

"You got the plug in?" He asked me as he pulled away, to look into my eyes. I nodded my head yes, as he text me this morning to put it in.

"Turn around." I knew what he wanted.

I pulled down my scrubs and my panties. I felt his hand rub against the heart shaped plug that I have in my hole.

I whined as he pulled the plug out, and placed it on the box next to him.

"Good thing you used plenty of lube." Frank said as he placed his cock at the entrance and slowly slid in.

I groaned as he slid inch by inch inside of me, this not being the first time we have done this.

"Gonna make it up tonight. Just let me fuck you." His hands tightened on my hips, so tight I will feel them for the rest of my shift.

"Use me Frank." I barely got out before he pulled back, leaving just the tip inside and slamming back into my ass.

He fucked me as hard and fast as he could. His pace never wavering as he fucked me like his life depends on it.

"Gonna be a good girl and let me cum in your ass huh? Work the rest of this horrible shift, knowing my cum is in your ass."

"Yes Frank, yes." I always felt dirty when we did this, but I also fucking love.

"Oh shit." He said a few moments later, just as I felt his cock twitch as he came.

"Yessss." He groaned, as he finished coming.

Frank pulled out of my well used hole, and spread my ass cheeks to watch his cum slowly leak out of my hole, before putting the plug back in, and pulling up my bottoms.

"I'll except you naked when I get home Dr Langdon." I teased.

"Will be. Don't you worry about that."

Part 2 with Dennis Whitaker, Mateo Diaz & Donnie Donahue coming soon

[evanpeterswhoresblog]

Office Secrets

Luke Cooper x f!reader

TW: smut, p in v, unprotected, fingering… lmk if there’s anything else lol

Word count: 1526

Friendly note, I wrote this all in one day so it’s probably not the best but I’ve been so obsessed w Evan lately I just needed to write lol Enjoy!!!

~~~

“So, who wants to bet the two newbies are doing it?” Meredith says as she puts coins into one of the vending machines.

“They so are,” Kevin says. “Have you seen the way they look at each other it’s like- Pam and Jim.”

“Hey!”

Angela shakes her head. “You people are disgusting… but I wouldn’t doubt it. I’ve seen them flirting on multiple occasions.”

“This is all circumstantial, it doesn’t mean they’re sleeping together,” Oscar argues.

“I would bet they are,” Phillas says with a laugh. “I mean I remember how fun it was being all secret with Bob, it’s so thrilling.”

Pam glances at you in the annex, Luke’s leaning back on your desk, smiling as you two talk. She looks back to the group and shrugs. “It’s possible they are.”

~~~

“Hey y/n, do you think you could make some copies for me?” Pam asks as you’re walking by.

“Yeah of course, double or single sided?” You reply with a smile.

“Double please.” She hands you the original.

You walk to the copier, but as you’re about to open it, Luke slips in front of you.

“Luke I was about to make copies,” you say, annoyed.

“So do I, you aren’t the only person in the office who needs to get stuff done,” he laughs.

“Since when have you ever had things to get done? You’re the laziest person here.”

“That’s hostile,” he replies, turning around to give you a smirk. “I might have to report you to HR.”

“Just please hurry up,” you mumble.

“Anything for you babe.” He winks.

You turn to the camera and stare, almost at your limit with this boy.

~~~

“I just don’t understand men sometimes it’s like, he’s so different when we’re alone yet in public he wants to be the biggest ass ever,” you rant to the camera, you’re in the hallway near the elevator where no one will hear you. “Sometimes I just want to knee him in the balls and get on with my day.”

“If he’s so annoying why do you sleep with him?”

You frown. “He’s really good at that stuff, most assholes are honestly.”

~~~

You’re at the vending machine getting a snack when you feel arms snake around your waist. You quickly turn around and push him away.

“Luke stop it we can’t be doing this here,” you whisper.

He looks out the windows then back at you. “Nobody’s around, come on just one kiss. I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you since last night baby.”

You and Luke were hired about three weeks ago now, both just interns to help out with the little things around the office. At first you thought Luke was an idiot slack off, but after a week of him constantly flirting with you, you decided he wasn’t that bad of a guy and of course he’s gorgeous. And, after one night where he gave you a ride home this simple work crush turned into casual sex.

You made Luke promise to keep it a secret, you didn’t want anyone at the office to think your personal life would interfere with you doing your job. So, far you don’t think anyone has figured it out, and your glad.

“Don’t talk like that here,” you say, giving him a slight glare. “We made a deal.”

“Yeah, yeah.”

“I’m serious Luke, imagine if Michael found out. He’d make it a whole thing.”

“It probably already is a thing, Jim and Pams was.”

You scoff at him. “Okay, that doesn’t mean this has to be.”

“Whatever,” he says as he begins to walk away. “See you later.”

You give an annoyed look to the camera and shake your head before returning to your previous activity.

~~~

“Listen, y/n is a good girl I guess, I just wish she’d stop acting like the office finding out about our thing is the worst possibility imaginable,” Luke tells the crew outside the break room.

“What do you think would happen if they found out?”

“I don’t know, they’d give us weird looks. It doesn’t really matter it’s not like me and her are gonna be working here forever. At least I know I’m not, not sure what her life plans are.”

~~~

You stare at the clock and sigh, still a whole nother hour left at the office. This whole day has been terrible, mostly due to Luke. You don’t understand why he’s acting so annoying today. Usually he’s decent toward you, probably because of what he wants from you the second work ends. You turn back to your desk and start to organize papers, deciding Luke isn’t important.

A few have passed when Luke appears beside you. He leans back on your desk, one of his hands gripping the edge. You try to ignore him, keeping your attention on the stack of paper you’ve been messing with. Luke doesn’t let you ignore him forever though.

“Can you come with me somewhere where we can speak privately… away from the cameras.”

You look up at him. Is this it? Is he really going to break it off at work? You can’t believe it. You want to give him a piece of your mind, so you slightly nod and get up, following him out of the annex and down the hall to one of the stock rooms. You’re ready to start giving it to him but before you can he smashes his lips on yours.

At first, you’re caught off guard, he’s never kissed you at work before. You don’t hesitate to kiss him back however. He backs you up till the back of your legs hit a spare desk. You let him guide you onto it, your kiss turning into something more.

He bites down on your lip, his hands roaming up and down the sides of your body. You have to admit, you’d been craving this too. Even though you saw each other last night. Luke was the best you’d ever had, how were you supposed to not want him again? Even though he’s been annoying you all day you can’t help but melt into the palm of his hand, he’s just so damn attractive.

“Luke, we can’t do this at work,” you whisper, the sensible part of you taking over.

“Nobody will know, come on baby, I’ve been thinking of you all day. I need you,” he replies.

Your stomach fills with butterflies at his words. He knows exactly how to persuade you. You fall back on the desk as he kisses down your neck, Your legs wrap around his waist, he makes you feel so good. He brings his lips back up to yours as one of his hands starts to slip up your skirt and under your panties.

He starts to rub small circles on your clit; you to moan into his mouth. He smirks against your mouth. You wrap your arms around his neck and pull him closer, you love the feeling of his body against yours. It’s the best you’ve ever felt.

“You’re already so wet baby,” he mumbles on your lips.

“Luke,” you moan.

“Do you want it baby?”

You nod, moving one of your hands down to rub the bulge in his pants. He grins at you and removes his fingers, beginning to undo his belt and fly. In seconds you feel his tip brushing against your entrance. He leans back over you as he begins to slowly thrust inside of you. You bite down on your lip and close your eyes, the familiar feeling of him filling you taking over.

You throw your head back as he starts fucking you. The sound of the desk hitting the wall doesn’t even register in your head. You’re too engulfed in how good Luke’s dick feels inside you, hitting that special spot that makes your legs shake. His head rests in the crook of your neck, he’s moaning and whispering all the dirty things he wants to do to you. It’s all too good to be true.

Eventually though, you feel that tightening in your stomach, your orgasm approching. Luke must realize this because he doesn’t stop his violent thrusts for even a second. You hold on to him tightly, biting down on his clothed shoulder as you finally cum. He finishes with you, pushing himself so far inside you he’s hitting your cervix.

He lays on you for a few seconds before pulling himself up enough to look down at you. His chest is still heaving as he speaks in a soft voice, “I really like you y/n.”

“I really like you too Luke,” you say with a weak smile.

Both of you get yourselves decent fast, you’ve been away for at least fifteen minutes by now. You give Luke one last kiss before exiting the small room alone, he promised to wait a minute or too before following.

As you sit at your desk and resume your previous activities, Luke walks by you, sending a quick wink before disappearing into the main office. You give a small stare into one of the cameras, your face turning bright red. This was only the beginning.

[multific]

Hail Us

Michael Langdon x Reader

Summary: A short Christmas tale.

You moved to your knees in front of the cross.

You prayed.

You prayed for good fortune, for health and peace.

Hail Satan.

You prayed for your husband's plans to go smoothly. You prayed for your soul to be damned along with his. 

And in return, you will continue to praise your only and true Lord, Satan.

Hail Satan.

You already gave yourself and your entire life to his son, Michael.

You did so because of love.

As simple as that was. Love.

You stood up and took another look at the upside-down cross.

With a smile on your face, you turn around only to see Michael standing behind you.

"My father must truly like you. You pray and he gives. I feel as if he likes you more than me, his son."

"He sure has a soft spot for me. But I believe it is fair. I am his daughter-in-law and I help you achieve your dreams. No need to be jealous."

"I'm more jealous that you spend time on your knees praying to my father instead of me." you smiled as you moved over to him, running your fingers down his defined cheekbones.

"I'm rather hungry, can we eat?" your distraction always worked.

Every time you were hungry, tired or thirsty, Michael was immediately on his feet, ready to help you.

Michael made sure you had the best meals.

"What did you pray for this time?" he asked during dinner.

"For him to grand my wishes. For us to be together forever. For our future to be filled with death and pain. Just like I always do." 

"You are so perfect. I still can't believe they thought you wanted to be on their side."

"My future is by your side. They were only a stepping stone for me to find you."

Michael smiled, recalling his youth and how much pain it caused him, but ever since he found you, he was more than okay.

"Merry Christmas, My Love." he raised his glass and you did the same.

"Hail Michael Langdon," you replied with a smirk.

"Hail Y/N Langdon, the bride of the Anti-Christ. The witch who's name brings fear into everyone's soul. The woman who made me into a real man, to live to my potential and be who I was always meant to be. Hail us."

"I love you so much, Michael."

"And I love you, Y/N."

The snow was falling outside as you continued your dinner.

And indeed, what a Christmas it was.

Taglist: @fleursirvart @greenarrowhead @thisismysecrethappyplace @sincerelyfan @theoneanna��@aestheticsandmarvel @rororo06 @castellandiangelo @destynelseclipsa @spilledinkindumpster @capsiclesdoll @puknow @alwayshave-faith @alex12948 @lxdyred @imagines-by-a-typical-fangirl @anonymoussherlockandmarvelgeek @praline357 @trshngyn @avengers-r-us @violet-19999 @top1bbgloak  @manduse @jacalineiscomingforyou @mandoloriancookie @noname2246

~Masterlist~

ˇAO3ˇ

/YOU DO NOT HAVE PERMISSION TO TRANSLATE OR REUPLOAD ANY OF MY WORKS TO THIS OR OTHER PLATFORMS/

[saintlucretia]

i can literally go feral over a villain and still his death scene in the end feels satisfying.

he is so awful and gruesome that i would kill him myself but he is kinda smash u know😉

HELP

[orienteddreamerrr]

Michael Langdon Valentine’s Day Drabble:

Michael Langdon X Fem Reader

Michael knew what day it was. Valentine’s Day. A day to celebrate love and friendship. Part of him was dreading. But another part of him was wanting to celebrate it with you. Appearing on your doorstep, he gives your door a good knock. As you open it, concern morphed on his face, noticing your eyes were red from crying. “What’s the matter, love?”, You shake your head. “Valentine’s Day…my family is too busy to celebrate it today…”, Michael hums at your words, looking to the floor for a moment before looking back at you. “I’m not busy…”, You can’t help but feel your heart flutter at his words. “Really?”, Michael smirks. “Why wouldn’t I be…?”, He waved a hand, using his powers to make a rose appear behind your ear as you smile. “Happy Valentine’s Day my love…”, You can’t help but go up to him, quickly wrapping your arms around him as he wraps his arms around your waist in return. As you pull away, he cups your cheeks, leaning down to kiss your forehead. “Let me treat you to a candlelight dinner…”, You chuckle at this. “When?”, Michael chuckles along with you. “7 sharp…your best dress…”, You nod at his words. “7 sharp it is…”, He leans down, kissing you on the lips this time as you kiss back, feeling his hands cradle your head as he pulls away, taking the rose behind your ear as he hands it you. “I’ll see you tonight then…”, He whispers his last words before disappearing in front of you, not feeling that pang of sadness anymore. Once 7 O’clock came around, you go downstairs to find Michael was here and in his best suit, standing by the dining room entryway as he takes a look at what you’re wearing. He smirks in approval, gesturing to what was behind him. The dining room table decorated with candles and roses. Your favorite meal was already prepped. “Wow Michael...everything looks so pretty…”, Michael bows his head. “Just trying to show appreciation for the one I love…”, He states, going up to rest a hand upon your cheek as you lean into his touch. “I love you Michael…so much…”, Michael kisses your cheek, whispering, “I love you…for an eternity…”, His words would stick with you for the rest of your life.

Who would be interested???

@enchantedruin

@lisboncy

@april-bandu-embata

@starlightlangdon

@langdxn

[violentdelightsproductions]

Vol. 4 - The Witching Hour

Welcome gals and ghouls to our annual Halloween event, the fourth one. Time sure flies! We are well into October and it's time to get the spooky party started and you are all invited. We've been looking forward to it since last Halloween~

In the upcoming weeks leading up to Halloween, we are gonna be posting our gifsets, edits, all of which are horror-themed and inspired by various horror films and scary stories. Also, from this upcoming Thursday until Halloween, we will be posting a video every Thursday on our channel TheViolentDelightsProductions . As some of you know our original channel got taken down by youtube recently and we are working on rebuilding it. So we are very excited to be posting more stuff and we hope that you will check them out and like what you see. And in the meantime, we will be posting edits and gifsets for various fandoms and pairings over here on our blog @violentdelightsproductions

Finally, consider this update a blanket content warning. Most of the upcoming works include graphic themes such as horror, blood, violence, murder or attempted murder, flashing lights, death, bodily harm, self harm, guns, knives, strong language, suggestive or mild sexual content ( but not sexual violence) etc.

Hope all of you gals and ghouls have an amazing spooky season and hope to see all of you around as we celebrate the best time of the year. 

Stay tuned. More spooks to come soon~~

 -A

[michaelangdonsslut]

𝐓𝐚𝐥𝐞𝐬 𝐎𝐟 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐒𝐡𝐚𝐝𝐨𝐰𝐬 // 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐎𝐧𝐞

hey pookies! here's the first chapter of tales of the shadows ౨ৎ

please read the introduction post before reading this chapter!

hope u enjoy <3

𝙬𝙤𝙧𝙙 𝙘𝙤𝙪𝙣𝙩 : 1.5k

no warnings!

---

- 𝑇𝐻𝐸 𝐻𝑂𝑈𝑆𝐸 .

Riley Bennett felt the wind brushing her face faintly as she opened the window to her dad's car. It was a cloudy Wednesday morning when they finally decided to move all the way across the country.

Riley was a 17 year old troubled teenage girl who often struggled with fitting into her new surroundings.

They were a typical wealthy family from LA and had everything, so why did they decide to move to a small town in Massachusetts? This is what Riley has been wondering all the time ever since her dad talked about moving to Chesterfield. "I don't even know why we have to move here It's so cloudy and looks boring. I already miss LA and my friends.", Riley said nonchalantly looking at the window trying to look for anything interesting about this town. "Come on Riley don't be so grumpy, it can't be that bad!" her dad tried to reassure her but it didn't really work. She was going to miss LA and there was nothing they could say about it. 

About 20 minutes later, they finally arrived in front of the house. It was a beautiful Victorian house, a mix of light pink and dark blue, and Riley couldn't help but admire the huge house in front of her. It looked so old and vintage, that house actually reminded her of Coraline, she loved this movie as a child. “ So what do we think ?” Mr Bennett looking smiled at Riley knowing how much she loved old fashioned houses. " This house is beautiful Peter, and look Riley there's a swing!",  said Mrs. Bennett eagerly.  "I'm not a little girl anymore mom I don't really care about that" , Riley said rolling her eyes as the family parked in the driveway.  “And besides, this house looks kinda haunted.”  Mrs. Bennett scoffed taking her sunglasses off. After some time, they finally get out of the car and start grabbing their stuff from the car boot when a lady approaches them.  "Hello, I'm Dina the real estate agent! I'm here to show you around the house"  A huge smile was plastered on her face as if she was happy someone was finally interested in this house. 

" Oh hello! I'm Peter Bennett and this is my wife Marie " they both shake Dina's hand, her smile never leaving her face. " It's really nice to meet you. Oh and I suppose this is your beautiful little sweetheart ", she says as she walks over to Riley; " Uh yeah. I'm Riley. " Dina shakes Riley's hand and Riley can't help but find her a bit...  eccentric .

“ All right, I’ll show you the inside of the house right now !” Mrs. Bennett smiled eagerly looking at her husband with stars in her eyes. 

The family stepped into the foyer, greeted by the grandeur of a bygone era. High ceilings adorned with intricate molding loomed overhead, while a majestic staircase beckoned from the center of the room. Sunlight filtered through stained glass windows, casting a warm, ethereal glow. Dina, with a practiced smile, gestured towards the sprawling rooms adorned with ornate details - antique chandeliers, mahogany wainscoting, and a fireplace steeped in history. A sense of both elegance and mystery enveloped them as they took in the timeless beauty of their potential new home.

"This house is goddamn beautiful. We're taking it!" , said Ms. Bennett eagerly with a huge smile of anticipation.

"Yes, this house sure is beautiful although I must mention, it comes with a bit of a past."  Dina seemed unsure and anxious, but she kept going; " full  disclosure requires that I tell you about what happened to the previews owners.

“Jesus, don’t tell me they died in this house did they?”  Mrs. Bennett turned around to look over at Dina with a concerned look plastered on her face. "Yes actually, both of them died here. Murder-suicide. I sold them the house too. They were the sweetest couple. You never really know what happens behind those walls I guess.

"That explains why this house is half the price of every other house in neighborhood I guess."  Mr Bennett sighted, crossing his arms.

“Where did it happen?”  Riley asked curiously.

 “In the attic.”

Riley pauses for a second, a smirk forming on her face as she decides to speak up; “ We’re taking it.”

ii

After the initial excitement of choosing their new home, the Bennett family embarked on the task of settling into their Victorian mansion. As they unloaded boxes and furniture from the moving truck, Riley couldn't contain her curiosity about the attic. She'd always been drawn to mysteries and the thought of living in a house with a dark past only fueled her intrigue.

Once they finished moving the essentials into the house, Riley dashed up the grand staircase, eager to explore every nook and cranny. She pushed open the attic door, the creaking hinges echoing in the vast space. The attic was dimly lit, dust particles dancing in the sunlight that filtered through the small windows. Old trunks and forgotten relics littered the space, each one holding a piece of history.

Riley's eyes widened with excitement as she imagined all the stories hidden within these walls. She spent hours rummaging through the forgotten treasures, uncovering vintage clothing, dusty books, and antique toys. Despite the tragic events that occurred here, Riley felt a strange sense of belonging, as if the house welcomed her with open arms.

As the days passed, the Bennett family settled into their new life in Chesterfield. Riley's room became her sanctuary, a reflection of her eclectic personality. She adorned the walls with vintage posters and fairy lights, transforming the space into a cozy retreat. She spent hours scouring antique shops and thrift stores, searching for unique pieces to add to her collection.

One afternoon, while exploring the local flea market, Riley stumbled upon a mysterious key hidden amongst a pile of trinkets. Intrigued, she purchased it for a few dollars, wondering what secrets it might unlock. When she returned home, Riley headed straight for the attic, her heart pounding with excitement.

She searched every nook and cranny until she found a small locked chest hidden beneath a pile of old newspapers. With trembling hands, she inserted the key into the rusty lock, the mechanism clicking open with a satisfying sound. Inside, she discovered a collection of letters tied with a faded ribbon.

As Riley read through the letters, she uncovered the tragic love story of the previous owners. Their words painted a picture of a forbidden romance torn apart by societal expectations and family obligations. Riley felt a pang of sadness for the couple, their lives cut short by tragedy.

And as she looked out the attic window, watching the sun set over the sleepy town of Chesterfield, Riley saw a shadow lurking behind the trees, It was like someone was staring at her. She rubbed her eyes thinking she probably hallucinated, and just like that, the shadow was gone.

iii

As the sun dipped below the horizon, casting a warm glow over the sleepy town of Chesterfield, Riley found herself drawn to the attic once again. She climbed the stairs with a sense of anticipation, eager to lose herself in the stories of the past. But as she reached the top, she was met with an unexpected sight—a boy standing in the dimly lit space, his silhouette illuminated by the fading light.

"Who are you?" Riley asked, her heart racing with a mixture of fear and curiosity.

The boy turned to face her, his features obscured by the shadows. "I'm Andy," he said, his voice soft and haunting. "I live next door."

Riley took a step closer, her eyes adjusting to the darkness. Andy's appearance was striking, with tousled hair and dark brown eyes that seemed to hold a hint of sadness. He reminded her of a character from one of her favorite movies, mysterious and enigmatic.

"What are you doing up here?" Riley asked, her voice tinged with suspicion.

Andy shrugged, a faint smile playing on his lips. "Just exploring," he said. "I like to come up here and think."

Riley nodded, her curiosity piqued. She had always been drawn to people who were different, who didn't fit into the mold of society. And there was something about Andy that intrigued her, something she couldn't quite put her finger on.

"Are you new here?" Andy asked, breaking the silence that had settled between them.

Riley nodded. "Yeah, my family just moved in a few weeks ago. What about you?"

Andy smiled wistfully. "I've lived here my whole life," he said. "But I've never really felt like I belong."

Riley understood the feeling all too well. She had spent her entire life searching for a place where she truly felt at home, a place where she could be herself without judgment.

"Well, you're not alone," Riley said, her voice soft but determined. "We can be outsiders together."

Andy's eyes sparkled with gratitude, and for the first time in a long time, Riley felt a sense of connection—a bond forged in the darkness of the attic.

"You should probably leave now tho, before my parents see you here and call the cops thinking you're here to rob us or something", she giggled slightly, looking at the boy right in front of her who's been smiling at her. It was like he was admiring her, feeling safe by her presence.

He got up and left the attic without saying a word to her, leaving the house so quietly It was like he was never there.

-------

a/n : idrk what to think of this but i truly hope y'all enjoyed this chapter, lmk if you wanna be in the taglist !!

[inlovewithfictionalmen7]

Rules:

I´ll write basically about anything except r@pe and SA

bare with me please im new to all of this and if you guys want to send me requests they'd be greatly appreciated and welcome

fluff: smut: angst:

Roman Reigns

Jey Uso

Jimmy Uso 

Naomi

Rhea Ripley:

me or her: Rhea and Liv both like you but hate each other, when things get intense, they start fighting over who can make you scream louder

Dean Ambrose

Damian Priest

Billy Hargrove

Steve Harrington

Eddie Munson

Draco Malfoy 

Tom Riddle

Theodore Nott

severus snap

Fred Weasley

George Weasley

Bucky Barnes 

Loki Laufeyson 

Peter Parker 

Tony Stark 

Deadpool

wolverine/hugh jackman

Spencer Reid

Aaron Hotchner

Derek Morgan

Bo Sinclair/Sinclair brothers

Michael Myers

Jason Voorhees

Stu Macher

Billy Loomis

Thomas Brown Hewitt

brahms heelshire

Lucifer

Mammon 

Leviathan 

Satan 

Beelzebub 

Belphegor 

Lord Diavolo

Barbatos.

Michael Langdon

Kyle Spencer

Tate Langdon

March

Countess

Misty Day

Xavier Plympton

Kit Walker

Kai Anderson

Madison Montgomery

Zach Mitchell

Lee Bodecker

Nate Jacobs

Rafe cameron:

Im Sorry Mommy- when y/n overhears something the boys say,she´s not happy and punishes Rafe

Nikki Sixx:

Misunderstanding- one night doesnt go well after Nikki comes home three and a half hours late.

[worldswithoutendings]

Eye for an eye [Michael Langdon] Pt. 5

Pairing: Michael Langdon x female! reader

warning: finally kissing, bad omens concert (if that's not your vibe, you can pick whatever band you want)

words: 2858

summary: working at Kineros is so much fun, second date with Michael. actual flirting?

AN: I'm so so sorry it took so long, I'm in the midst of my finals and it's killing me. so I wrote an extra-long chapter. enjoy <3

“This is a joke, right? That’s not the Rosalie from Cooperative?” you can’t help but ask him after he has brushed his teeth for what feels like 10 minutes “No, not a joke, do you still smell her?” he asks as he wipes his mouth with a napkin and you come closer to his and cautiously smell “no, but I did order room perfume because it, unfortunately, stays in the hall” you lean against the doorpost of the bathroom and Michael sighs “I had to drag her to a hairdresser, makeup artist, stylist, cosmetologist, whatever you name it to make her look so.. decent at cooperative, I was so ashamed that night” he makes a sour face as if it was the worst night of his life “but I have to keep her around unfortunately. For a ritual. But she kept on believing we were getting married so I stuck with that to her. She won’t live long anyway” “How long till the ritual?” “It’s this Friday actually” Michael seemed relieved “I have to offer her to my father. It’s the last, final ritual to be.. free. My mouth hurts” “Yeah well, you did brush your teeth for 10 minutes so, no wonder your mouth hurts” you laugh and he glares playfully at you “thank god I don’t have to worry about you” “For what?” “I think I can kiss you easily for 10 minutes, I’d rather kiss you than that foul thing” “Okay, that foul thing has a name Michael, and you’re done with her on Friday. Just don’t.. think too much of it okay? Be happy you don’t have to fuck her in a ritual” “No thank hell, I have to offer a virgin so I had promised to marry her on Friday and then we could.. fu- I can’t say that when I think of her it makes my stomach churn” he becomes paler and you can’t help it but put a hand on his cheek “you’ll be fine, Michael” you smile at him and he takes a look at you “you do know you’re in the men’s bathroom, right?” he winks and you audibly gasp “oh no! what will become of me?!” you act out musically making Michael laugh as he pushes you closer against him “thank hell for you” he whispers against your lips making you turn to stone. Is he? Will he? No, right? Softly your lips brush against each other “Already so much softer” “Please don’t compare her to me” you blurt out and he shakes his head “She comes nowhere near you, on any level”

The week flew by like It was nothing. You enjoyed working at Kineros because it was easy. Rosalie also never came back again after she came on your first day. Michael had told you that he’d rather speak with her on the phone than in person, which is understandable. You also can’t help but glance over to his office once in a while, because his office is on your left, and most of the time he had his door open unless there was a business meeting. Most of the time he would lean against his desk, his sleeve rolled up as he was busy reading emails you had forwarded him. You couldn’t help but stare at the icy gaze he held on his computer, how sharp his jawline was, and how often he would bite the inside of his lip. Once you even almost fell back because you were leaning so much. Earning a concerned look from Michael when he heard you gasp “I’m fine!’ you say and he shakes his head with a smile.

Friday came along and Michael had to leave Kineros early for the ritual, thank hell you didn’t have to come with him because it would be too gore-y “We can meet up tonight? After the ritual, I can tell you in every colorful detail what happened” he says as he leans against your desk right next to you “we can meet up tonight, yes” you say as you push your chair from the desk to look at him, you were wearing a mini a-line black skirt with a black button up and black boots to mimic Michaels style. Michaels's eyes go from your boots to where your skirt begins and he scrapes his throat, loosening his tie “Are you wearing this tonight?” “not sure yet, why?” “Just, keep it on” he nods and stands up “I’ll see you tonight!” “good luck!” you wave at him as you continue with the emails “So, devil's little helper hm?” Mutt says behind you “So?” “That’s how you got the job, didn’t you? You must’ve sucked him off real good with that look on his face” You frown at his remark “What’s that supposed to mean?” “that.. girl, is not allowed one foot in this building. But with you, he flirts so easily like you fuck him every night. you probably do don’t you? Why don’t you try us for once?” Mutt says as he points at himself and Jeff “No thanks, I’m already concerned for the girls who are willing to get paid to get fucked by you two. When I look at you it feels like I’m looking at my grandmothers' wallpaper” you say as you finish the last two emails of the day. Mutt huffs and curses at you as you close your laptop.

Cleaning your desk to leave you see that Michael still had his light on in his office. You walk over to turn it off only to see that his laptop is also still on, this man. Walking towards his desk to shut his laptop off you can’t help but see that he has an entire schedule for you

Friday: meet y/n after work

Sunday: visit y/n

Wednesday: take y/n out to dinner after work

“silly man” you smirk to yourself as you close his laptop as well, better to take it home with me and give it to him tonight. He may need it. Turning off the light in his office as you make your way home.

Anxiety was creeping its way into your body about the ritual that was happening right now. Mostly hoped it wouldn’t hurt Michael too much, as you know that rituals for him could be painful from time to time, especially if his father wasn’t appreciative of the gift. Nervously you walked around your house, having done everything you could do already, put some clothes in the washing machine, fill the dishwasher, clean the kitchen

“What are you nervous about?” you hear Michael echo through your living room as he transmutes and you gasp happily “It worked!?” “yes” he smiles and you fling your arms around him, mostly because you’re happy that now Michael doesn’t have to think about Rosalie anymore. But also it meant you were a step closer to each other, if you have to believe Satan. Michael puts his arms around you as he inhales your scent “Oh I brought your laptop with me in case you needed it throughout the weekend” “You’re an angel” he mumbles against your hair. Only realizing now that you hugged Michael you try to let go of him only to feel his arms around your waist tighten “Just, just one minute longer please” he sounds desperate in your ear. After exactly one minute he loosens his arms around you “What sort of ritual was it exactly?” you can’t help but ask, “It’s ehm, the final offering, from me to him, I’m free from him, I can make my own decisions now” but the deal? “the deal still stands. Because that is between you and him” ´But you, you can decline, now, right?” you ask hesitantly and Michael nods shortly. You bite your lip as you try to withhold yourself from lashing out “doesn’t mean I will though” his voice becomes softer “we just, have to go through a lot more, and longer, offerings and rituals” “so I have to see it like you’re finally an adult? Because you’re free” “Yeah you can see it sorta like that” Michael says as he nods “I can live with that” You smile and Michael finally smiles back at you.

Uncertain of the way you felt, he understands that it’s a lot, especially since you’ve been begging for love since you were 15 years of age, and truthfully. Michael was scared, beyond scared. For the first time he also feels like someone has an actual interest in him, at least, you tried to get to know him, and didn’t directly fall on your knees because he is the antichrist. He had to fight for this and so would you. There are moments where Michael feels he could marry you directly, right then and there, but there are moments where he wishes he could walk away like the rituals and the deal never happened. But Michael also knows that his father has a very short temper and wanted him to already be married long before his last ritual, Michael was more surprised that because of you he took his time. He had tried once already, when you were 17, to meet you, but you were under such a big amount of stress because your mother had just passed away he couldn’t bring it to just. Jump in front of you and explain that he would be the love of your life. He sat there during the funeral, watching your form from the far back of the hall, seeing how everyone took pity on you, losing both your parents in such a short time. He wanted to be nothing but a support system, but you, you closed yourself off to the world.

“what are you thinking about?” Michaels's thoughts get broken by your soft voice “Nothing, just. The future. Ehm, yes, we should celebrate!” he holds tight onto your hands and you start to laugh at his excitement. You love how you sometimes can still see the kid deep within him, trying to break free, which also makes you sad when you realize that he never experienced a childhood, or puberty like you did “We can go to a concert? See which one isn’t sold out yet?” you blurt out and Michael furrows his brows “what’s that?” “Come,” you say as you grab your coat.

Looking at the agenda of the concert hall you bite your lip to guess what Michael would like when it comes to music “Definitely not Coldplay, at least, not right now, maybe Slipknot? Is that too.. metal for the devil?” you think out loud “what is this Bad Omens band” Michael points at the bands that will be playing tonight “oh they’re great! But they’re sold out so-“ “-so? We can just go inside” he shrugs “Michael we can’t there are no tickets an-“Of course he transmutes you mid-sentence “-ymore, Michael this is illegal” You hiss at him as you slap his shoulder, acting hurt he rolls his eyes “when will it start” you walk into the crowded hall, happy that he transmuted you to a deserted hall ‘in 10 minutes or so? See how busy it is” you giggle as you look back at Michael, who looks a bit frightened not knowing what to expect.

The closer you get to the band coming on stage the more crowded the room gets. You feel Michael’s body heat come closer to you and you feel more eyes falling on the both of you, hushed voices carry through the room like everybody knows who Michael is. But they’re probably all eye fucking him “As long as it stays at eye fucking I’m fine with it” you whisper to yourself while Michael wraps a protective arm over your middle “Is someone jealous?” he whispers in your ear and you can’t help but side-eye him making him laugh in your ear. The room becomes dark as the intro for the band starts to play.

Thankfully Michael enjoyed the concert just like you did. Holding each other's hand as you walked out of the concert hall “That was a really good band” he sighs and you nod “Yeah they’re really good!” you start to slowly shake because of how thin your coat is and the temperature change from a really hot concert hall to the cold evening wind. Michael sees a bench “Come” he says as he almost drags you to it. He sits down and as you want to sit down next to him he tusks “You’re getting cold come on” he lets go of your hand only to grab you by your middle to place you on his lap. You can’t help but blush by the sudden bold move from Michael and you get jealous when you feel his warm body heat consume you.

Fixing your hair as you try to avoid melting against him while he looks at you with endearing eyes “I liked that song they played, the one with the long title, what was it again?” you feel his hands almost burn on your middle as he tries to make small talk with you “oh, ehm, love is the death of peace and mind? I like that one as well” you blush, playing with his sleeve of his button up “where is the girl with the bold temper? Did she go on vacation?” Michael laughs as he notices how shy you have become all of a sudden “No! Nope, she is still here” you point at your brain “I just, never, experienced this, this whole thing, situation” you exclaim with your hands and Michael nods while he comes closer. You can’t help but stare at the freshly painted black nails you had done yesterday until you feel his soft lips on your forehead “Nope, no fever” he says playfully for someone who is the devil he has soft lips “Are you sure?” you ask him and he kisses you again “no” you shake your head while you sigh.

Michael, being the gentleman that he is, transmuted you back home, in front of your door with his laptop case in his hand “I enjoyed tonight, a lot” he winks and you nod “Yeah me too, we should do this more often” “oh we definitely will” he says as he closes the gap between you two and you smile your best smile at him making him melt “so I will see you Sunday?’ you ask him to break the comfortable silence “yes, you will see me Sunday” he says sultry as he comes closer to your lips. This time you’re the one to make the move to kiss him for the first time. His lips are incredibly soft against yours, knowing it’s just one, official kiss you lean back only to see Michael stand still in the same stance “Are you okay?” you whisper laughingly “Are you mocking me? Come here” he groans as he kisses you again, longer and deeper this time. You hold him by the collar of his coat as he pushes you against your door.

Michael had transmuted after saying goodbye and ending the kiss you both had for the first time. You open the door with shaking hands “Oh my god oh my god. I need to call Julie” you say after you close the door. While you take your shoes off you put her on speaker

“yes?” she groans “Oh did I wake you, sleeping beauty?” “no, you didn’t, I’m sick” “Ah do you have a bug?” “probably food poisoning, that idiot called my fiancé, cooked yesterday, why are you calling so late?” Julie says groggily and you let out a sigh “I thought you wouldn’t let him cook again, the last time he also gave you food poisoning remember?” “yeah well he said he practiced” She cuts you off and you smirk “Why I’m calling you is” you sing as you throw yourself on the couch “Oh no please don’t tell me you’re pregnant from that bot” you laugh out loud by her statement “we kissed.” “you kissed? I didn’t know robots had fe-“ “-Julie he is not a robot, okay, we went to the Bad Omens concert and afterwards he brought me home and ehm, we, we kissed” “That’s so cute! Wait, a bad omens concert?! Does he enjoy rock?” “yeah he does actually” “I would see him for some classical music type of shit” Julie sighs and you smile “No, he’s actually really growing on me Julie” “Yeah I can hear that you’re smiling through the phone it’s creepy” “hmm well I’m sorry you have food poisoning but if you keep this up I will not take care of you” you hear Julie trash through the phone about how badly she wants your vegetable porridge tomorrow and you always take care of her when she’s sick “I’m just joking Julie, I’ll see you tomorrow. Take some Tylenol and you’ll be off to Wonderland in no time okay? Sleep tight” “Hmm whatever,” Julie says playfully as she hangs up

Right when you want to go to bed you hear your phone buzz

- Sleep tight

You too Michael

[kisses4themissus]

Little Lady | M.R x Reader

a/n: teehee tell me yall's thoughts on this one!! also mid way through the chapter i was so upset because it dawned on me i unknowingly set the fic in the winter.. pairing: Michael "Robby" Robinavitch X Single Mom! Reader wc: 2.8k Warning; semi-proof read, mention of car crash

Previous | Masterlist

The phone on your desk rang once more, making you groan before picking it up.

“ICU.” You responded monotone. 

“Robby’s asking again if there’s a bed up there, he’s claiming you're hoarding beds up there.” Dana sighed, watching as Robby leaned forward, attempting to hear you.

You groaned, looking around the unit; all of the rooms were full. “Yeah I'm shoving them up my ass, no we don't have any available.” You responded sarcastically; you ignored the flutter in your stomach as you could hear robby’s laughter in the back.

“Knew it, thanks again.” Dana quickly hung up the phone. 

You playfully rolled your eyes before going back to your medical journal. There was now an obvious shift between yourself and robby; no longer was there petty bed hoarding or unstable patients sent up out of spite. It was eerily calm with you both.

 - - - - - - - -

“Dude in 568 is clear for progressive care.” A respiratory nurse told you as she tossed her gloves into the trash outside the door and then went over to the open sink and scrubbed her hands.

You chuckled and nodded before picking up the phone, paging robby.

“Dr. robby.” He greeted, the sounds of the trauma room in the background. 

“Lucky day, we have one available, needs to be cleaned so it’ll be a bit.” You sighed, balancing the phone on your shoulder as you updated patient files.

“I knew it, you were hoarding.” He joked, not noticing the looks of shock on the residents and nurses faces.

“He is on the phone with the ICU right?” Langdon muttered to princess who nodded.

“Yeah, yeah, alright go take care of your trauma paitent.” You hung up.

You sighed as you leaned back into your chair, luckily most of the ICU patients were settled for the time being. 

Thankfully with it being calm you pulled out your phone and smiled at the photos your mom had sent. Lovebug had a wide smile as she had on her ballet tutu, standing outside of an audition room. Then another with your father, standing by his truck both grinning.

You turned off your phone, trying to motivate yourself to not grow bored.

 - - - - - - - -

Robby sighed as he drank out of his thermos, glancing up at the board.

Dana sighed as she had the desk phone tucked between her shoulder and chin. “Two car crash victims incoming.” 

Robby nodded and placed down the cup and turned as the EMTs walked in and explained the driver had gotten a heart attack mid drive.

“Take him to trauma two.” Robby pointed to the room, before turning to the other EMT. “Where’s the other victim?” He asked, only to get his answer very quickly of a little girl on a gurney. 

“Actually, dr. Robby meet the driver’s hero; his granddaughter Lacey, she managed to escape her carseat after the crash and got his phone to call 9-1-1.” The female EMT smiled at the little girl with comfort.

Robby had a quick flash of shock on his face before warmly smiling at the little girl. “Vital’s are normal, so we’re guessing she might have minor whiplash.” The EMT filled Robby in.

“Hi Lacey, I'm dr. Robby, are you hurting anywhere?” Robby asked softly as the five year old nodded and pointed to chest.

“My seatbelt pulled me back, and my head hurts.” She explained, her tiny hands clutching the stuffed rabbit on the bed. “Ok, i’m gonna have one of my best doctors look over you ok, i’m gonna go help your grandpa then i’ll be back.” Lacey nodded at robby and sighed as Dana helped move Lacey to a hospital bed.

“Do you want some water?” Dana asked, Lacey lifted her head and nodded.

“Please, and with ice.” Lacey rubbed the rabbit’s stuffed ear as she asked.

Dana smiled and nodded at her request, feeling her heart melt a bit from the child’s manners. Getting a tiny cup of water and ice chips, she flagged down mohan. “Got a case for you; six year old, she’s with the trauma two patient.” Dana debriefed Mohan who nodded, taking the water and ice.

“Robby said after he helps her grandpa, he’d come back to see her.” 

Samira nodded and walked into the small room with a soft smile as Lacey sat on the bed playing with her rabbit. “Hi there, i’m doctor mohan can you tell me your name?”

The little girl smiled and said her full name. “Very pretty name, i brought you some water and ice chips for now, is it ok if i check to make sure nothing serious happened to you?” Samira asked, setting down the water and ice on the small tray in the room before grabbing a pair of gloves.

Lacey took a sip of water and nodded.

Mohan quickly did her assessment before going to order a CT scan.

Once again entering the room, Mohan sat down beside the little girl and began to keep her company like Dana had hoped.

“So how old are you lacey?” Mohan asked, taking note of the pale pink tutu and tights.

“I just turned five a few months ago.” She smiled before picking up the rabbit and raising it to her ear before giggling and turning to mohan. 

“She likes your hair!” Lacey giggled, making samira’s heart melt.

“Well tell her, I just love her ribbons.” Mohan played along. “What’s your friend’s name here?” She asked, Lacey proudly propped up the rabbit on her lap.

“Her name is June, like my birthday! My pop-pop gave her to me for my first ballet recital.” Lacey explained.

Mohan chuckled, noticing donnie outside with an IV, slightly cringing before standing up to help put it in.

Both donnie and mohan were shocked to see how well lacey has taken the IV, just closing her eyes and turned her head as the needle poked her skin.

“You're so brave!” Mohan encouraged as donnie flushed the IV before stopping for it to be clear for the CT dye.

 - - - - - - - -

Robby sighed as he exited the trauma room, rubbing sanitizer on his hands as he walked towards the room where Lacey was placed. He stopped in the doorway with a smile as he watched mohan had her phone propped up playing some kids show while her and Lacey colored a cartoon bear.

“Dr. Mohan, how is my tiny friend doing?” Robby asked, smiling as Lacey quickly flipped over her coloring page and would contrine to draw something on the blank backing.

“Good, CT came back clear, she had a headache so i gave her some kids tylenol and i’ve been keeping her busy just in case she has a concussion from the carseat.” Mohan quickly debriefed, turning off the cartoons on her phone.

Robby nodded and motioned for the door. 

Samira nodded and got up and walked outside with robby. “She can be discharged, we were able to get a hold of his daughter in-law, said she’d tell his children and pick up lacey.” Robby gave Samira a run down, she nodded and quickly walked to the nearest desk to start the discharge paperwork.

Robby walked back into the room, smiling as Lacey looked up and smiled before going back to coloring.

Lacey quietly placed down her crayon and bit her lip as she looked up at robby. “Is pop-pop gonna be ok?” She asked, clasping her hands together in her lap, robby’s felt tugging at his heart.

With a heavy sigh, Robby sat down beside the bed and looked at Lacey and nodded. “He might just be a bit weak for a bit, but he’ll get stronger, he was proud to hear about how brave you were during the crash.” Robby added, remembering the old man's grin at the news his granddaughter swooped in like a hero.

“Will he be better by christmas?” She asked, making Robby nod.

“Oh good!” She grinned down at her hands. “Your grandpa said you’re a ballerina?” Robby’s question put a spark in that little face.

She perked up and nodded, moving the warm blanket on her lap back, to show her pale pink tights and tutu. “I’m gonna be in the nutcracker!” She told Robby confidently. “Oh yeah, what are you gonna do for the show?” He asked, leaning in, placing his elbows on his knees.

“I’m a rat and a petal!” She said excitedly, making Robby laugh at her first role. 

“A rat?” He asked, a slight teasing tone stuck in the back of his throat.

“Mmhm, and we get to run on stage and play for a bit.” She explained, making Robby chuckle. “Are you excited to perform?”

Lacey shrugged, “I’ve been a rat before, my grammy said that– that she hopes I'll be a good petal.” 

Robby nodded, Lacey tapped her shoes together, “My mommy was Clara when she was little.” Lacey added, making Robby raise a brow. “Who’s clara?” His question made the little girl look at him with wide eyes.

Lacey had explained the nutcracker the best she could as a five year old. Telling Robby how her grandmother owned the ballet studio, and how her grandmother would tell stories to all dancers of her daughter; the prima ballerina.

“I think that when I like ballet.” Lacey concluded.

“Sounds like you’re from a talented family.” Robby complimented, as he went to talk some more a knock on the door made the pair look over to see samira with a middle aged woman beside her.

“Oh buggie, you doing ok?” She rushed over to the five year old who nodded, and smiled. 

Robby took the discharge paperwork from samira and handed it to the woman, noticing the woman’s appearance; a ballet studio jacket wrapped around the lady’s waist.

“Vital’s are holding well, she just had a minor headache from the crash but some kids tylenol should fix it, other than that, miss lacey is here is set to go!” Robby smiled down at the little girl who nodded at his words.

“What do you say honey?” The older woman tilted her head towards both samira and robby’s direction. Lacey smiled. “Thank you for taking care of me.” She bowed her head before reaching for the woman to pick her up.

“Um, i called his kids, they should be down here sometime soon.” The woman informed Robby who nodded and smiled at the news.

Robby nodded at the news before smiling to lacey. “You have a good nutcracker show, and be good for your mom!” Robby pointed at the little girl, not seeing her look of confusion as he pointed to her aunt when talking about her mom.

Exiting the room, robby walked back to the staff room for more coffee.

 - - - - - - - -

Dana’s eyes widened as the staff elevators opened to show an un-ideal pair, the neurological attending and the top cardiology resident.

Both walking up to the central desk, they both sighed at Dana's look. “What a hellish duo, what poor soul needs both of you..?”

The cardiologist laughed; dr. Joseph laughed, “Your car trauma patient is our dad.” 

Dana chuckled before pointing the two in the direction of the room.

“Where’s primadonna?” The neurological attending, dr. Thomas asked. “Running late, like usual..” Both joked before entering the trauma room.

With a heft sigh, robby walked to central and raised an eyebrow as you ran out of the staff elevators, panting as you slid up to central.

“You alright?” Robby asked, noticing the frantic look.

“Yeah, yeah just peachy!” you muttered before making your way to the trauma room, robby following behind you.

As you opened the doors, the two gazes of your brothers landed on you. “There she is..finally.” Thomas playfully scoffed, making you walk over and smack the back of his arm, before smiling down at your father.

"Woah, did they find something I didn’t see?” Robby asked, as he entered the room to see you three surrounding the bed. “Dr. Robby, this is our father.” Joseph smiled at the man’s shocked expression.

“You three?” He motioned for all three of you.

Your father chuckled at robby’s face, “My swimmers make doctors.” He joked, earning groans from all of you three.

“Gross.” Thomas squinted in disgust.

“That’s nasty dad...” You gagged.

“La la la, I don't hear anything!” Joseph covered his ears, shaking his head like a child.

Robby laughed, and patted the older man’s leg. “You make the hospital’s best doctors.” He complimented, you smirked at robby. “Careful robinavitch, sounds like a compliment.” You teased before rubbing your father’s head in comfort. “It might be one..dr. glinda” He teased, neither of you seeing the looks exchanged by your family members

“The question now is, what floor is taking him up?” Robby asked, crossing his arms 

“Neurology can take him.” Thomas sighed, making you laugh. “And say what to Gloria, he’s there cause he has a headache?” Your words make Thomas roll his eyes before pushing you lightly.

“I can check if we have a bed available.” Joseph suggested, already reaching for his pager.

“The ICU has an open bed now.” You raised an eyebrow at Robby who made a face of uncertainty. “I think cardiology might be the safest option at least for now.” Robby nodded, waiting as your brother began talking to a nurse.

As you stood next to the trauma bed you froze, Lacey was in the car with him.

“Where’s the other passenger that was with him?” You asked, your panic rising.

Thomas looked up equally as nervous. “She was just released, no abnormalities.” Robby filled you both in, watching as relief washed over you both.

“Marissa took her to the studio with mom, and we have a fresh clean room with dad’s name on it.” Joseph nodded, you bit your lip at the news.

“She’s a brave girl, EMT’s said she escaped her carseat and managed to find your dad’s phone and called for an ambulance.” Robby’s words make you perk up, a small smile on your face.

“Oh babybug..” You muttered, quickly searching for your phone before leaving the room and towards the ambulance bay.

“Is she alright?” Robby asked, a bit worried, both of your brothers nodded. “Yeah, she just needs a minute, perfect time to switch him to our floor.” Joseph shrugged, making Robby chuckle before nodding.

 - - - - - - - -

As you walked outside of the ambulance bay, you stopped and sat down by the bushes, scrolling through your contact’s till you spotted your sister in law.

As the phone rang your foot began to tap the cement. 

A tiny tap made you glance up and sigh in relief. Lovebug smiled at you, two pieces of paper in her hand, the other had her rabbit.

“Are you ok babybug?” You asked, running your hand over her little head. She nodded, making her tiny pigtails flop. “I wanted to give these to my friends.” she explained, handing you the papers. 

Marissa, your sister in law just chuckled. “She refused to leave the parking lot without giving them to someone to give them out.” She explained, earning a chuckle.

You checked over your daughter once more before letting her go. “How did auditions go?” You asked, making lacey giggle loudly. “I’m gonna be a rat and a petal!” She cheered, making you gasp before hugging her tightly. “Oh my goodness, I'm so happy for you!” You laughed.

You sighed, knowing it’d only be a few hours before you’d see lacey again at home. “Ok, i’ll let you and aunt marissa go back to the studio but i’ll pick you up in..about four more hours ok?” You told the little girl who nodded.

She took the paper and showed you each drawing of their names on the back.

“This is for the dr. mohan and this is for dr. robby!” She told you with a serious expression.

You nodded and giggled before waving them off to the parking lot.

Once you saw them very distant, you turned to the hospital and sighed, walking back in.

Robby stood at central, softly smiling at you. “You doing ok?” he asked, lightly bumping you. With a nod you sighed and leaned on the desk. “This is for you.” You handed him the paper, he looked at you confused. “Now if you excuse me, I'm gonna go find samira.” You smiled at him before walking away.

Both princess and Perlah sat at central, grinning at each other. “Do you think it's a love note?” Perlah asked in Tagalog

“Has to be..” Princess responded, both watching as Robby's face gained a soft smile.

He leaned against central, opening the folded paper, it had been a semi colored page, flipping it around robby grinned at the drawing.

It was a stick figure of Lacey in a bed with a stick figure of Robby beside her. The squiggly words written on top. 

“Thank you dr. robinavitch! - Lacey”

Robby chuckled, the little girl sure knew how to melt hearts, it was easy to tell both you and her were related..even though robby thinks she's your niece…

robby taglist: @nerdgirljen @whatdoesntkillyoumakesyoustrange @snowflames-world @evans-dejong @whimiscalfungiforager @kmc1989 @foolishseven @coffinheartz @itschelseacisneros @rhysology

[m-robinavitch]

sedated.

Pairing: Michael "Robby" Robinavitch x Female!Reader/Slight Original Female Character(no names used but they call her Angel as nickname) Summary: Being the cause of Langdon’s demise. As guilt eats away at you- you turn to the only person who understands your pain in this moment. Robby. Warnings: 18+ MDNI, smut, slight passive suicidal thoughts, mild dubious consent, age gap relationship(older man/younger woman), drug mentions. Crossposted to AO3

“To uphold your dignity”

 Lies. I did not listen, I judged him. I was judged. I was not empathetic nor kind to him. I silenced his pained voice and spat on the choice he made. I could not cure him, I was not capable, I could not comfort him as he had done for me many times over. 

“To offer my best self”

I am not worthy of this profession. I mishandled the privilege I had to care for him. I did not embrace my imperfections, I hid them deep in my soul because they were failures that shame me. I was not vulnerable with him, I did not give him a safe space to heal; I slammed the door in his face and threw the key. I was not courageous, I did not want to risk failing. I admitted my errors and asked for forgiveness- and I do not condemn him for denying me. 

“To foster collaboration and mutuality”

I left my team hanging, they could not care for him because of me. I laughed at the experiences he lived, I did not care for his decisions nor tried to maintain a partnership. I did not ask for help because I did not think there were boundaries on my abilities and I did not offer help when he had reached his limitations. I cultivated a culture of resilience against understanding and only worked to support my own professional gain, no regard for others or him. 

“To practice the highest quality of care”

I stopped trying to learn; medicine was a tool, I have lost the love for the art and science. I advanced knowledge for my own benefit, I was not honest nor cared enough to change. I only celebrated myself, those who came before me no longer mattered for my success. 

“To care for all”

I did not embrace my citizenship to humanity, I shirked any obligations to act in the benefit of all human beings, especially his. I did not challenge my biases, I shamed him, told him he did not deserve the care that was inclusive to all aspects of identity. I did not combat structural oppression, I promoted my own justice and my own ethical action, not those of society or wellness. I leveraged my position and privilege for myself, did not care about the system that failed him, because I was the system that failed him. 

“Today”

I did not stand with my peers in solidarity, I was not united, I was self serving, unkind, someone I did not recognize. I shunned where we came from, there is no future for us anymore. I have no gratitude for those who supported me, for they were wrong. I sullied this oath, defiled my honor and his. I am not a doctor who heals; I am wicked and damned. I am to be held accountable. 

I prescribed Langdon the pills first.

He never said no. Langdon would come at every beck and call to him from someone he loved, someone who needed him. Even after he moved out of your shared apartment and into his space with Abby, he would still answer your calls at 3 in the morning on the first ring because “what if you needed him?” No questions asked, whenever, whatever is how his soul would operate with yours. Which is also how he got roped into his parents aid this weekend. Helping them move out of his childhood home by toiling over the boxes that were stacked near as tall as he was. Each box housed every award, trophy, and ribbon that he ever accumulated, every drawing he scribbled and every memory of a happy childhood that his parents could cherish. 

Now he wasn’t exactly an old man, barely inching his way into his 30’s, but Langdon killed his body with every 60 hour plus work week, combined with being a father to both a 3 year old and a 16 month old, he was exhausted and sore constantly. This particular week while shuffling around the routine group of elderly nursing home patients in the morning, he didn’t lift with his legs like he should’ve. Ibuprofen, his usual aid of choice, hadn’t done the trick that day or the past few weeks, even begging you to massage his back for a second in the Pitt break room with the perfect ER Ken doll pout. But the whole weekend moving boxes to and from his old home and parents' new apartment, a sharp spasm had erupted from the heel of his right foot and trailed up to his lower back- pulling tight at the muscles that were still sore, making the box slip from his arms and land with a crash. The gasp that left him had even surprised his mother, who attempted to get him to sit down, but there were only a few more boxes left and he wanted to go home to sleep it off until work the next morning. So he powered through. And did not get to go to sleep as soon as he got home, no Tanner wanted to play, wanted to be thrown up in the air and caught and run around in the backyard, who was Langdon to deny his son the pleasure of bonding with his father?

The box he dropped held his NYU Biology bachelor’s degree, cracking the frame and the glass spidering along the edge- an omen he paid no mind to at the time. 

“You’ve been hobbling around like an old man all fucking morning, sit down Frankie.” Langdon, for all his glory as an ER doctor, was a giant man child. Stereotypical man-flu haver. Or when you would say you’re not feeling good, an hour later neither is he even though you have period cramps. But those damn electrifying blue eyes of his have anyone struck, babying him like he wants even though the drama queen in him is saying “no- no I’m fine please.” Even now, he’s swatting your hand away as you grab his bicep to make him sit down for a second. 

“I’m fine, just tweaked my back this weekend.”

“If you’re gonna brag about sex I’m not giving you sympathy.” You say with a roll of your eyes and start to walk away while he follows you, still sitting in the rolling chair but using his long legs to catch up to you and grabbing you by the edges of “your” hoodie. It wasn’t yours, two sizes too big, years of wear and tear from near daily use, a hint of musky cologne that never seemed to fade no matter how much you washed it. 

“Don’t tell me you and him are on the rocks again.” Groaning and pulling you to sit in the empty chair next to his, only to take the can of Red Bull from your hand to steal a sip. 

“Okay, I no longer have sympathy for you. I hope you hurt more and stub your toe on the gurney.” Standing, grabbing the Red Bull back from his hand and chugging the rest of its contents. Langdon lived to tease you, and the fact that you slept with your attending the day before your internship at Pittsburgh Trauma Medical Hospital had him relentless. 

“No, no. Wait. Ok, sorry, sorry. I forgot- touchy subject” Groaning again but this time from pain, Langdon stood to catch up to you, shuffling a bit as to not exert too much energy. “I was helping my parents move this weekend and I lifted wrong, back was acting up from when I had to wrestle Ms. Hall into bed Thursday. And I was already still hurting from when Tanner and I were on the trampoline.”

“Yeah she does have the energy of a spry 70 year old instead of 90. And that was also your fault for attempting to backflip. Have you been taking anything?” You inquire, stopping to lean against the computer as he caught up to you. 

“No,” shaking his head frustrated, “I feel like I pop ibuprofen like candy, it’s done nothing.”

“Fine, here, to stop your whining and since you have been in pain for a good while already-“ you turn to face the computer, typing a bit while he leaned over you to rest his dimpled chin on your shoulder. “I’ll send a script for 5 mg of Oxy to the pharmacy, don’t get addicted” you laughed with him then, but it had been a prophecy, not a joke. 

You gave your best friend the map for his destruction and you both laughed at the time. You assisted him in his suffering, and aided him in his own ruination. How could you not blame yourself? How could you not cry and toil for all eternity over the guilt? How do you go on with the knowledge that you sabotaged his entire life and career when all he did was trust and love you when no one else could? You can never look him in the eyes again. You can never call yourself the godmother to his children again, because you were also made to protect them and you were abetting in damning their future in tandem with their father’s. You can never smile with his wife again because now all she sees in you is the pain and suffering you caused her husband, her children, herself, bound blood still fresh on your hands. 

The day was long, it was tiring, it was brutal. You leaned against the hospital, taking a moment to breathe the crisp night air- feel the slight breeze on your skin after being stuck in the stuffy ER from the massive trauma. You could be proud of yourself- could pat yourself on the back because you did more than what you could today. Running back and forth between patients, literally shoving your hand in a man’s chest to stop the bleeding- which had you in the OR for a few hours, watching the fruit of your labor take place. After scrubbing out you felt good- felt like you could work another few hours. But you wanted to catch up to Robby, see how he was holding up from the day's events. You can see him and Abbott walking towards the benches where some members of the “Pitt Crew” told you to join them for a drink- a well deserved one no doubt but your phone was vibrating. 

“Hey- where’d you go? Was gonna to see if you wanted to get a dri-“

“Did you tell him?” Cutting you off- speech struggling and slurred. Confusing pulled at your face, brows furrowed because he didn’t sound okay. Langdon sounded very drunk and very angry. He never got angry really- at least not at you. 

“Tell who what? Frank where are you?” He had disappeared and reappeared amid the chaos of the Pitt, only to disappear again. 

“Don’t fucking lie to me- we promised we’d never lie right?” He slurred again- quickly you try to find his location on your phone, only to realize he had blocked you from seeing him. 

“You sabotaged me-“ he sobbed, “you fucking had to take me out. I was in pain- I needed them, you knew that!” What was he doing? You want to call Abby, but you’re afraid if you got him off the phone you’d lose him and something worse would happen. 

“Frankie- what are you talking about? Are you ok? Just tell me where you are an-“ you’re trying to understand his slurred words, he’s mumbling and yelling bitterly- blaming you for his own actions and you’re trying to follow.

“The Oxy angel! You gave me the fucking Oxy- remember?” His anger bubbled up, “you knew I was in pain and you watched me pop the pills you gave me. I got fired. Happy now? Couldn’t be me so you had to take me down with you.” You couldn’t say anything else- he had already hung up. Your hand was shaking- trying to call him back but your efforts were in vain as it kept going to voicemail. Each call was denied. You couldn’t breathe- your chest tightened, neck felt like someone was squeezing you. No. No- he couldn’t. Langdon wasn’t- was he? The air was gone from your lungs, spinning, you couldn’t stop the spinning and noise in your head. Was this your fault? Did you subconsciously try to do this to your best friend? You needed air even though you were already outside- you needed to get away, run from your thoughts but you couldn’t go home, no- because home was once Langdon’s and whispered his name everywhere you stepped. 

With slow, shaky steps you make your way to the roof, throwing the door open and dropping your bag, not caring where it landed really. You cling to the railing, tears hot and angry- when did you start crying? You needed more air, needed to feel like you were flying because gravity was so heavy right now, crushing you and pulling you down like you were being dragged to hell for your sins already. Unsure and wobbly, you throw a leg over the rail, straddling for a second because the wind is picking up but- maybe it felt good to fall from grace? Finally fall from the title of ‘angel’ that you were bestowed upon so many years ago by Langdon. Throwing your other leg around, you’re walking closer to the edge, looking down at the hospital and- it would feel nice for a moment right? The free fall? The wind rushing in your face and through your hair? Was Langdon right? Did you do this on purpose? When did you begin to feel jealous- if you ever did? Slowly you step back and start to pace- thinking about every single moment of the last year. How much did you even give him? When? Not remembering was the worst part because you didn’t care to take notice of your best friend spiraling. Your thoughts were so loud and the wind was roaring in your ears you didn’t hear the door open again or Robby initially calling out to you.

“Angel,” Robby paused, watching you walk back and forth along the edge of the roof, wringing your hands and muttering to yourself, “hey- angel what’s wrong?” His voice was soft, gently probing so he doesn’t startle you- but you paid him no mind. After his drink with a few of the ED members, he inquired if you had gone home already- hoping to catch up to you and see how you handled the day, but someone mentioned seeing you head to the roof and Robby’s gut told him to check on you. You were pacing along the edge, pulling at your fingers and wringing your hands together because you can’t remember how much you prescribed Langdon. You can’t remember when you even offered and now you have this tightness in your chest. You’re trying to recount the last few weeks- how was he acting? How was his disposition? In all the years you’ve known Frank he was acting the same but, no- no there had to be something, a sign or some indication that he wasn’t okay. 

“Fuck!” you yell, stopping in your stride and shoving the heels of your palms into your eyes because you can’t- fucking- remember. Trailing your hands up- sliding your fingers in your hair you pulled just a bit, trying to jog your memory back to any moment when you asked yourself if Langdon was okay. 

“Angel- angel stop,” Robby swings himself over the railing- cradling your face to force you to look at him. “What’s wrong? What happened?” He’s asking questions you don’t even have the answers to, you don’t know what happened- where Frank is, if he’s ok. God were you this stupid? Every month there is some type of “substance abuse signs” email that Gloria sends out- doctors are the worst dealers and yet the most common addicts. 

“I don’t- I don’t know I-“ you’re shaking your head- either to let Robby know you’re unsure or to shake the relentless thoughts from your mind, “Michael I- it’s my fault, it’s- it’s my fault I- Langdon- it was me-I did it-“ you’re babbling- hyperventilating and unable to catch a break and Robby is confused. What did you do? He’s trying to recall his early arguments with Langdon when you shove out of his grasp to continue pacing. ‘Did angel tell you?’ In the moment, Robby had no idea what you had to do with the situation. But he’s putting pieces together because with your muttered words he hears ‘I gave it to him. I prescribed it- it was only 5 mg- I didn’t think he would-‘ and it dawned on him. 

“Hey- hey stop,” Robby grabs you again by your bicep now, forcing you still and to look at him, “tell me what’s happened.” Your lips quiver, tears stained your face and you don’t even know where to start. Relaying every detail- only pausing to catch your breath or cry and you’re ending it with accepting the guilt. 

“I did it. I did it. It was me Robby- it was me!” You ended your recollection of events, you gave your best friend Oxy. You handed him the keys to his demise. God you were that fucking stupid. “He came to me for help and I-“ 

“No- no angel that wasn’t you. Stop,” he’s trying to shake you a bit, getting you to understand and hear him but you’re shoving away at him. Pushing your hands into his solid chest that you used to sleep on- where you would lay awake with him at 2 am and giggle about the day, how a patient got a fish hook stuck in his ass or how Whitaker ate shit sliding in a kid's vomit. Where you would fall asleep to his heartbeat, stroking at the light dusting of chest hair, rolling your eyes at his snoring because ‘I don’t snore angel, I have never snored.’ Where you feel safe- loved- protected from the horrors of the shifts that haunt you. 

“No! No- no Robby I did this-“ smacking at his chest you try to shove him away and loosen from his grip but he’s stronger. He’s always been stronger- has to be for you in this moment because you’re breaking. He’s not used to you breaking. You’re not insensitive- no you feel so deeply that you hurt for days after you lose a patient. You won’t cry in the room, won’t cry at the funerals you’ve asked to attend, won’t let a tear slip at the end of the day when Robby asks how you’re doing. No those are reserved for silently curling up in the shower, where the sound of the water drown out your sob, the water mixing with your salty tears. 

“Stop it!” He shakes you again, “Langdon made his own choices- you didn’t shove the pills down his throat-“ you slap him- hard. The sharp sound bounces off the roof and echoes out into the darkness. You might as well have- you handed it to him. You basically spoon fed them to him. Robby didn’t know what he was talking about- you should’ve been careful, you should have been looking out for Langdon- you should have anticipated and known every single consequence possible. He would mention his pain and you said nothing when you’d see him take a pill or two during his shift- hell you were no stranger to it yourself. But you’re wracking your brain trying to think of all the times you had seen it.

“Get off me-“ you fight- attempting to wrestle yourself free from Robby, slapping his chest, sobbing and want to kick but god- he’s as relentless and stubborn as you were. “No- no-“ you’re crying, telling him no because you don’t deserve compassion, you don’t deserve relief from the guilt. Langdon did. You deserve to be damned and thrown from this roof for your hand in the matter. Robby pulls you closer, wrapping his arms around you and finally- you break. A strangled, wrecked sob releases from the depths of your soul. Collapsing into Robby you crack- your slaps at his chest become weaker, eventually you fist his scrub top and cling to him. One hand soothes you, stroking your head but the other remains tight around your body- keeping you firm against him so you don’t try to escape. Slowly he sinks to the floor, letting you cry into his chest and use him as an anchor so you don’t drift away from him in your ocean of grief. He doesn’t move really- only to kiss your temple or rub your back, doesn’t adjust himself in any way while you sob into him, doesn’t know how much time has really passed but he’s content to sit and stroke your hair and shush your tears. 

“I should go,” you finally say, no silence to break as there’s still the sound of the city, sirens, shouts, music- making it feel alive, “it’s late- you’re tired.” It’s an excuse, you’ve been pathetic in front of Robby for long enough, you don’t want him to think of this moment when he thinks of you- at your worst. But even at your supposed worst, Robby thinks the world of you. Intelligent, witty, sarcastic, funny, gorgeous with bright eyes that melt his heart when you look up at him. He holds you in the highest regard, he regrets every heart break he’s ever made you endure. 

“Let me take you home,” he offers, standing and cupping your cheek so you can look at him and know he means what he says, “or stay the night with me. I don’t want you alone angel.”

“No,” you shake your head, forcing yourself to deny him because you deserve to be alone- to sit and wallow in the darkness of your empty apartment and have a shot or two. People died today, people lost their lives, their families, friend- and you’re monopolizing him for nothing at all other than your guilt “No I’m ok Michael I promise-“

“Please, just- I’ll stay in your couch, I just want to make sure you’re okay.” Even when he’s not yours, he cares. When you can’t call him yours, he will always be yours. His thumb brushes your cheek- wiping away the tears he can reach, eyes soft and almost begging you to let him take care of you. So you nod, he’s helping you back over the rail and you take his hand in yours and grab your bags before walking down the stairs and back into the comfort of the dark. It’s a silent walk, Robby doesn’t pull his hand away from yours nor do you pull away from his. He’s a lifeline at this point- walking through the park to your apartment and if you close your eyes you can imagine it’s a Sunday afternoon again, and you both are coming back from breakfast hand in hand- enjoying the breeze and you’re about to meet Jake at the basketball court. But it’s not months ago, it’s not a beautiful Sunday, it’s dark. And Robby isn’t yours anymore. 

You’re still in a bit of a fog- head pounding from your tears and Robby lets go of your hand briefly to unlock your door. Oh, he still had his key. He takes your bag from your shoulder, hanging it in the entry way with his and slowly, he’s ushering your through the small hall and into your bedroom- sitting you at the edge of your bed. Kneeling before you, he kisses your forehead and begins untying your shoes- minding the blood that was drying- you’d have to throw them in the wash tomorrow. Tapping your arms, Robby lifts the hem of your scrub top, lifting it gently to avoid pulling your hair once it was over your arms. He lightly snapped the strap of your sports bra with a small smile- a silent indication that it was the next article to go. “Up” he nodded, making you stand so he could slide off your pants and underwear- your hand on his broad shoulders to steady yourself as he carefully held your ankles one at a time to free them from the pooled fabric. You’ve obviously been naked in front of him before, many times over. But this was distinctly more intimate than when you’d sleep together. You felt even more naked than before, Robby was looking up at you- raw and tormented- soul on display for him to pick apart and yet he never does. He doesn’t judge you at this moment because he has been there many times- when Adamson passed you had been there, helping Robby shower and eat for days after the fact. 

“I’m gonna start the shower ok?” With a kiss to your temple he’s up and in your bathroom, turning the water to the temperature he knows you prefer. ‘Satan’s lair hot’ he would call it when he’d join you for a quick shower- feeling stripped and raw but you relished in the way it soothed your muscles after a long day. Robby returns and takes your hand, guiding you into your bathroom and helping you in the shower. He watches you stand there- letting the water cascade down your face and body, not moving. Sighing, he starts to strip so he can join you. 

“Lean your head back baby,” he coaxes you, turning you so the water glides down your back and he can lather your shampoo into your hair. The scent brings him back- wafting around and choking him, remembering how he would wake up with your hair in his face and how he’d be slightly annoyed at the time, but he would kill to have one more chance to be inconvenienced by it again. He’s at your side, massaging your scalp and keeping you upright while coddling you more than you think he should. Robby is gentle- has always been gentle with you unless you ask him not to. Slowly rubbing the rag along your shoulders, across your skin and dipping down to kneel in front of you to get the blood that had soaked into your shoes and dried uncomfortably between your toes. He moves to turn the water off but you grab his arm, ceasing him momentarily because you just- just need a moment to feel like it’s all ok. Understanding, he pulls you into his chest- turning so the spray of the water is mostly on him and just lets himself hold you. He can pretend it’s months ago and you’re sneaking to join him in the shower to before work- hungrily kissing him, pulling him back into your embrace each time he begrudgingly tries to leave, and you both just sit under the stream for a bit in silence before the stress of the hospital starts. 

“You need sleep angel- come on” with a kiss to your temple he shuts the water off and wraps you in a towel before he does the same, sitting you on the edge of the tub to dry your hair with the specific towel your bought- the one you’d jokingly get after him about and made sure he didn’t use for his hands. Robby dresses himself quickly, digging through your drawers and finding clothes he hadn’t even realized were missing- a t-shirt from his med school that you would wear to bed only- because it still smelled like him and a pair of boxers that he let you borrow to sleep in the first few weeks of your relationship. 

“Which do you want?” He asked, holding out one of your nightdresses and a t-shirt he found. It was Langdon’s, the sole shirt that he had with letters of his frat- before he got kicked out of course. God why did it hurt to see it? You nodded to the dress, grabbing it from Robby’s hands while he dug around for a pair of underwear for you. 

“I’m gonna set myself up on the couch ok?” He didn’t ask to sleep in bed with you- stupidly he thought maybe that was pushing his luck because all he wanted was to hold you in his arms to sleep like before. And you didn’t ask him to- you’ve been pathetic enough today around him. Selfish even. Robby lost patients today, it was the anniversary of Adamson’s death and he was here- taking care of you. But if you asked him- this is where he wanted to be. Needed to be. A distraction from his own personal bullshit, because for all the ache, he’s been neglecting his feelings. And focusing on you gives him a purpose to neglect instead of being emotionally constipated like you had told him he was months ago. Adamson is still gone, Leah is still gone. He can’t change that. But you’re here and your problems won’t go away soon- he can be here for you now. “If you need me, wake me up ok?”

“Okay, thank you-“ meekly you say, crawling up your bed and into the sheets to try and forget about your miserable excuse for being hurt. You attempt a fitful sleep, tossing and turning- unable to breathe without the pain in your chest or to stop thinking for a moment- what signs did you miss? Langdon had always been hyper, always been on the go and ready for the next trauma. Cherry picking for a trauma yes, but- so did you. It wouldn’t stop- your mind didn’t stop. Robby was the only one who could quiet your mind- he could give you temporary relief to the world, clearing the fog around your brain. But- you didn’t need relief, no- you needed a distraction. You needed to not think about the pain for only a second- just a moment of distraction because it will always be constant. You won’t have Langdon at work anymore. You won’t be able to play rock paper scissors when you hear of an incoming trauma anymore. You won’t get to shotgun Red Bulls in the parking lot at 5 am with him anymore. You won’t get to share the lunch Abby packed for him- definitely way too much for just him because she knows you don’t cook. Will you even be able to call him your best friend anymore? Will you go to his house on the weekends to play with the kids anymore? Will Abby call you for dinner on Sundays anymore? Fuck- fuck you fucked up. You fucked up. You’re hyperventilating again- tossing the blankets from your body because you feel hot. Maybe the feeling of the hell you belong in has already begun its process- reminding you that you are to blame, that you should be punished for the role you played. 

You’re out of bed- pacing along your bedroom floor trying to calm your breathing, trying to stop crying because Robby will hear you. The screech of the flatline is in your ears- rattling your nerves, feeling your heart stopping but simultaneously about to beat right into your stomach and out your ass. You feel the bubbling sensation of nausea creep up. Hands shaking and you just need a fucking distraction from it all. You need Robby in the moment more than you need air to breathe. More than you need the blood in your veins because he’s gladly give himself over to you for a bit of respite. 

Robby is no stranger to the feeling of guilt- and he’s had his share of selfish tendencies. Months after Adamson died, Robby would have you in his bed- burying himself deep into your tight core because he needed to feel something more than the failure of his own humanity. You tried to talk- tried to get Robby to open up but the only way he attempted to cope was through physical contact. He closed himself off mentally- shutting the doors to prevent more fucked up feelings from creeping into his mind late at night but you let him use you, you laid back and let Robby cry it your chest with each thrust- kissing his tears away and holding him to your chest when he was sated. He’s awake, lying on your couch that’s slightly too small for him to be comfortable- staring up at the ceiling fan slowly make its rounds. He hears you shuffle from your bedroom- silently padding along the wooden floor, cursing when a creak gives you away. You know he’s awake- he’s not snoring. 

“What’s wrong angel?” he’s immediately sitting up but before he can stand you’re throwing yourself on the floor in front of him, sobbing something awful because it’s too much again. 

“I can’t- I need-“ you try to speak- try to calm yourself to get the right words out but what do you say? That you’re so consumed with your own guilt that you need a distraction- and that distraction can only come from him burying himself so deep inside you that you’re more him than you? He knows. Robby knows what you’re going to ask because he knows you better than himself sometimes. He was in the same spot as you years ago- knelt in front of you, kissing up your legs with tears in his eyes, begging you to take his mind off the world for a second. You had been a savior to him then- an angel who stripped herself of her wings to join him on this damned floating rock and be used in the most sinful way. But- was it sinful if he felt like you were heaven sent? The answer to a prayer he didn’t know he made? The light at the end of a fucking tunnel to guide him to your arms again?

“Please Michael,” you begged in the dark, kneeled on the carpet in front of him as if he were the patron saint of guilt and desperation, forehead pressed into his thigh while you whimpered and let hot tears drip. You lifted your head from its position, staring up at Robby with a face that was stained wet from tears of grief, eyes petitioning him to have mercy on your aching heart. To take your mind away from its mortal coil, to heal your inner despair with his touch on your body so that you can escape reality for a moment. Straightening yourself and trying to catch your breath, you adjusted to kneel between his open legs, arms wrapping around his torso- shoving your face into his chest and again- begging for distraction, “please, I need you. I can’t do this anymore.”

Robby’s heart was torn, stripped raw from the stress of the day already- but now hearing the suffering from your voice, a feeling that rose deep from your soul. No your heart wasn’t broken, that was a laughable analogy for the pain and guilt you felt, because your soul was shattered. For all intents and purposes, Langdon was your soulmate since you were 18. You love Robby. And you would never admit to anyone, not even yourself, that Robby is the love of your life and the worst thing you could have ever let go of, which you will regret for years to come. But Langdon was the other half of you, your soulmate that was bound and tied to your heart for this lifetime and the ones that were to follow. Your atoms were intertwined together, every fiber of your being was tethered with his. The guilt you felt for hurting him, ruining his life, it destroyed you as well. Now, you didn’t want to live without Robby- but you would and could, you have many times over already. But if you were to attempt to live without Frank Langdon in your life for a mere moment? You would likely cease to exist, forget to breathe, beg for death because after your passing, his soul would find yours again for the next reincarnation of your beings together. 

Internally, he couldn’t allow himself to let you use him as a distraction. Not because he was noble or because he thought he deserved better- no, because he had been dreaming to hold you again. Robby laid awake most nights, yearning for your body to be slotted around his, to feel your skin against his and be able to kiss you awake before the sun rose, like he had done so many times before, just so he could make love to you in the quietness of the night- where the sun and moon met like your bodies were, whispering their love in passing while you both did as well. Here you were, knelt between his thighs, begging for him to let you use him as a distraction and he hated every ounce of his being because he would gladly let you use him. He would take a scalpel to his chest and cut out his own heart with a smile if you asked, looking up at him with those eyes that he never quite learned how to say no to. Letting you use him, well he would feel like he was using you. Using your pain and agony tonight as a way to sate himself, weaning himself off his own addiction by a low dose of your body rutting against his.

Robby didn’t say no, he couldn’t tell you no as you unwrapped yourself from his waist and rose up on your knees to rest your head on his shoulder, fisting his shirt in your shaky hand. He was incapable of telling you no as you kissed his neck, softly with trembling lips, god it felt so fucking good to be touched by you like this again. He had chastised himself for looking at you lustfully while he ran the rag across your skin in the shower. He went to bed half hard- cursing himself because you were crying in his arms and a part of his brain was thinking about tasting your skin again- sinking deep into you, wrapping your thighs around his waist and calling it home again.

“Michael,” you whined, “baby, please. Distract me.” Your lips trailed along his neck, the hand that wasn’t balling his shirt along his chest was resting on his thigh to keep you upright, nails digging in ever so slightly. He was a weak, pathetic man. The thin strap of your nightdress had slipped down off your shoulder, the top swell of your breast threatening him, beseeching him to taste. He kept his hands at his side, not daring to let a finger trail across your skin because he wouldn’t be able to stop just there. Rising up again, one knee bracing on the couch to aid you in your assault on his resolve. This time your target was his jaw, lightly nipping at the edge, knowing how his body sings already, your lips and teeth the director. 

“I need you,” a kiss on his cheek. 

“Please,” a kiss on his forehead.

“I can’t anymore,” a kiss on the side of his nose.

“Michael,” a kiss on the corner of his mouth.

Each kiss chiseled away at him, each kiss had Robby teetering on the edge of letting go. What a simple, foolish man he was for a woman who whispered his name so sweetly, that he could never hear it the same again from anyone else. You would peck at his lips, letting him taste the tears that you had shed but he couldn’t kiss you back. He couldn’t forget himself, that you were suffering, yes, but he was not. He was in his right mind- he was levelheaded, right? No- he was not. Robby was suffering as well because the woman he loved was on her knees begging to be put out of her misery- to be fucked and touched- and he was denying her, how fucking selfish he was. He could allow himself one kiss, he could allow himself to aid in your atonement by letting you find comfort in his arms and body. Once more, you begged against his lips. 

“Please baby,” forehead against his, breathing the air he released to get just a taste of him with your hands dragging their way up his body to cradle his face in your palms. You loved Robby. You loved and ached for him daily. But this cycle of despair pained you, cycle of giving your entire being to him but he would only knock out a brick or two of the wall around him for you. You knew he could take whatever guilt and ache you had in this moment, dull it, make you forget that you were the root of all evil in Langdon’s new reality. 

“Please my love,” you didn’t need your stethoscope to hear the strings of Robby’s heart and tenacity snap. “Help me,” you plead against his lips. 

“Okay,” Robby nodded, whispering back into your lips so that maybe your soul could hear that aid was coming, that he was here to fix you, be used by you like you had done for him years ago.

“Okay baby,” he relented, permitting himself to kiss the tears away from your tired eyes, “I have you.” He unshackled his arms from the mental restraints he had, one arm wrapping around your waist to pull you up and into him while the other grabbed your thigh to have you straddling him now, body flush against his. Robby could hear you gasp in relief, hiccuping slightly through the tears and nodding because your savior had arrived. Just like he always had. Throwing your arms around his shoulders you kissed him with fervor- slotting your lips together like many times before. They were no strangers, they have met frequently in the last few years and knew the terrain well together. Your fingers wound themselves through the hair that settled along the nape of his neck, always so soft and the one thing that you knew he couldn’t resist.

For all the love you had for each other, this was a different type of love making. This was desperate, sad, needy, hurried- so that you couldn’t think or have time to think about your better judgment. Robby had pulled the other strap of your nightdress down to reveal your breasts to him while he kissed along your jaw, beard scratching perfectly against your skin that you sighed, finally finding respite in a feeling that wasn’t your own sorrow. Down your neck, Robby licked and sucked, lavishing your skin with a groan added, deep and guttural in your ear that you drew out from canting your hips over his. He missed how your skin tasted, how you sounded when he would circle his tongue around your nipple or use his beard to scratch along your chest. 

“Fuck-“ you sighed, pushing your chest into his face, silently asking him to torture you with his mouth more so you can finally stop thinking, “thank you baby,” Robby was your true love, your savior, taking your pain in his hands and holding it high above your head so you can forget for just a moment. “Thank you.” You repeated, grabbing the hair at the back of his head and forcing him to look up at you with those sad eyes, deep brown, looking at you like if you asked, he’d walk through hell and back to kiss you one last time before leaving you to the eternal ruin you would face there. The arm around your waist pulled you down, trapping your hips and forcing you to grind into him slowly, but hard and rough so you can feel the outline of him through his boxers and your underwear. Groaning, Robby kissed his way back to your lips, licking into your mouth when a moan escaped, while his other hand palmed at your chest, heavy hands and calloused fingers pinching and scratching lightly at your breast and nipples to hear you whine.

“I’m here,” sighing, letting you cling to him while your body trembled in his arms, “use me.” It was a privilege for him, because in his mind, you allowed Robby to be used- a distraction from the pain that another man caused. He wasn’t ignorant, Robby knew he would always come second to Langdon. Years ago it pained him, to lose the woman he loved to another man- almost angered him because how could Frank even understand how truly blessed he was to be loved by you? Langdon never even had the privilege of tasting you- of dipping his tongue into the sweet salvation that was between your legs, truly an act of compassion for Robby on your part to bless him with such an honor. 

“I can’t- fuck, please Michael-” you’re whimpering in his mouth now- desperately grinding into him for some relief- some friction to help you think of something else- anything else because the memories are flooding back and- ‘This is your fucking fault and you know it! Stupid selfish bitch- you sabotaged me for the ED Fellowship didn’t you? What you can’t stand not being Robby’s center of attention- are you jealous he gave me a recommendation?’

Robby felt you bury your face into his neck, crying gently again and whimpering his name- not from pleasure, no- you were clawing at him for solace, biting his neck and pulling at his hair. He couldn’t try to keep it together- you were his debilitating weakness, you could stab him in the chest and Robby would slide himself deeper into the knife just so he could be closer to you. He was losing his control- this was supposed to be about you. Robby’s hand slid its way down your back, dipping into your underwear and after grabbing a handful of your ass, he twisted his hand to ball up the fabric around his wrist once, twice, a final third time when he knew it was taut- and yanked back violently. You heard the tearing of what was your underwear, felt the scratch and pull against your hip but now there’s only Robby’s boxers holding your back from the soothing balm of pleasure. 

Desperately you palm at him, feeling the familiarity of his hard length under your hands and you don’t waste a second pulling him free from his boxers and lining yourself up, the tip notched at your entrance- Robby’s pressing his forehead against yours and is nodding, silently begging you to put him out of this misery as well. 

“Fuck,” you gasp, sinking down onto him so slow, so gentle in contrast to the anguished need of only moments ago. “fuck, I love you Michael.” Robby desired to hear those words again- prayed that he would hear you tell him in earnest that you loved him and that you wanted to try again with him. But for now he can dream. For now he can imagine it’s months ago and you’re in his arms again, reminding him that you love him- and he’ll distract himself with a kiss from your perfect lips that cry for another man. 

You’re crying into the kiss- mumbling that you love him while rising up on your knees to feel him slide thickly between your walls, filling you perfectly with a well acquainted feeling. Repeatedly saying ‘I love you’, grabbing his hand at your hip that’s steadying you to intertwine your fingers with his. The act has Robby gutted, thinking back to how you would do the exact same months and years ago when he’d have you in his bed, finding his hand in the darkness while you sigh and moan his name. But this time, it was for grounding- something to hold onto, the memory of feeling safe in Robby’s arms, loved and cared for. 

Robby starts to feel anger bubbling up inside while you squeeze his hand. Robby’s ire wasn’t directed at you, no- never at you. Langdon had let him down, let the entire team down- but more specifically he let you down and blamed you for his failure and shortcomings. He blamed you for his lack of self control, which was ironic considering that while Robby had lost all sense of self control around you- it was on him alone. Langdon took no responsibility in his actions and his ego was his own ruin. Robby could feel the way your heart was destroyed, guilt eating away at you from Langdon’s words. You didn’t know, you didn’t purposefully hurt your best friend. But how could he make you see that? How could Robby pull you back from the edge of the roof and tell you to blame the one constant person in your life who was always there. Frank was there before Robby, he was there all the times Robby wasn’t- every break up and fight, he was there. He couldn’t expect you to abandon a piece of your soul so easily. 

“I love you, so much angel-“ Robby sighs into your mouth, his own tears starting to fall as the dust of the stress and mental strain of the day begin to settle, “I’m yours, I’m here baby.” He knew your guilt in this moment, he couldn’t save Adamson, he let his mentor down. He couldn’t save Leah. He let Jake down. In all his glory and years of a healer he felt he had nothing to show for it because when it mattered- he faltered. He heard the incessant beep of the flatline in his ears, felt his heart racing against his chest as you hopelessly move in his lap with a relieved sigh as he exchanged his reassurance with you- that he loved you more than you understand. 

Reluctantly he let go of your hand and flattened his arm on your back, tightening the grip his other hand had on your thigh, Robby turns to gently lay you flat on the couch. The hand on your thigh slides up to your knee, wrapping your leg around his waist so he can drive himself deeper inside your tight solace. The angle has you gasping, running your hand up under his shirt so you can drag your nails down his back. His necklace was dangling in your face, the shine from the metal really the only thing you can see in the darkness. Who was really using who at this point was unknown, you and Robby cried together, hearts bloodied and open for each other to mend. His hand came back to find yours, lifting to rest above your head while locking your fingers together. His pace didn’t falter, it was slow and deliberate- feeling each needy, desperate thrust of his hips into your own so that maybe you both could lay aside your combined grief and heal together, if only for tonight. You feel a familiar crescendo in the pit of your gut, a pull that only Robby was able to elicit from you- as if he studied your own body in those dreaded years of med school just in preparation for this moment. 

“Close,” you whimpered, grabbing at the hair at the back of his neck and pulling him closer- foreheads together in combined effort and concentration. “S-so close baby.” You didn’t have to warn him, Robby knew, being so in tune with your body already- the signs were obvious to him. The way the pitch of your voice lifted slightly, how your breathing stuttered, the grip on his hair tightening, your thighs squeezing around his waist, the tightness of your walls around him- Robby knew each and every tell of your impending orgasm. He wasn’t far off- forcing himself to slow down so you can forget everything for more than a moment. But that was a slight lie- Robby forced himself to slow his devastating pace so he can stay inside your heat, if only for mere seconds longer because he never knows when the last time will actually be the last time. He makes this mistake routinely- breaking your heart and letting you run from his emotional crudity. His greatest regret is cheating you into coming back to him over and over again , being so fucking selfish that he can never truly let you go. So he will force himself to slow down in this moment- pretending you’re his again. 

Your orgasm felt like drowning in Robby- the sound of your heartbeats combined in your head, the smell of his cologne hazing around in your mind, the feel of his fingers digging into your thigh, chill of his necklace on your chest, the squeeze of his hand in yours, the thick fullness of him inside you, his tears falling softly on your cheeks, the sounds of his hips roughly slapping against you, the sweat beading on his forehead that was pressed against your own- his voice wafting around in your chest to suffocate your heart with ‘I love you’ and ‘I’m yours’. You were silent as you came, tears streaming down the side of your face- feeling Robby’s pace stutter for a few more thrusts then groaning, deep and guttural as he followed your peak together. Mixed breathing and small gasps, catching your breath together with one final kiss before he reluctantly attempts to pull out of you.

“No,” you tense your thighs around him faintly, “don’t- not yet. Please.” You still had to feel something- still needed a reason to not spiral in the depths of your own guilt, a reason to stay grounded to now instead of circling the drain with what was left of your sanity. He didn’t think you were able to tug at his heart even more, but looking down at you, bathed in moonlight with tears glistening and begging him to not leave you in any form- what was left of him died and was reborn into something akin to devotion, ready to give up what was left of him to spend eternity worshiping at your feet. So he nodded, kissing the tears away from your cheeks- not realizing they were mixed with his. Slowly you ran your fingers through his hair, nails scratching lightly- remembering how much he loved the feeling and would melt into your body. Turning you both gently, Robby laid on his side and immediately you draped yourself over him as much as possible, never fully leaving the comfort of your warmth. Fingers lightly skimming over your skin, no rhythm to follow, just caressing you gently like he would many times over. 

“Thank you,” you whispered into his neck, “thank you Michael.” Different than how you said it earlier, you were thanking him for loving you. Thanking him for having mercy on your damned broken soul. Thanking him for coming to your rescue all over and being your home when Langdon could not be. 

“Always.” Robby kissed your temple, feeling you settle against him finally, sagging into his body and letting out a shaky sigh. You didn’t know what you would have to face tomorrow, you didn’t want to think about Langdon or Abby or the kids, right now your just wanted to sleep here in Robby’s arms like you have done so many times before. Robby was your safe haven, an asylum that shielded your vulnerable heart as you slept. You knew your thoughts would be quiet with him, his presence alone was the guardian of your wretched mind- a protector that asked for nothing in return, besides your love, which was so easy to give to him- you have many times before, though you’re really not sure you stopped. No- each time you claimed to stop loving him, you only came back so much more stronger with so much more love to proffer. He didn’t take, no- Robby stored the love you gave him, hoarding it deep inside his body to strengthen himself up to knock down the wall he spent years building brick by lonely brick. Each time a little more of himself was available to you- each time the love and devotion was more ardent than the last. Maybe this time it’s secured- this time it’s going to last. 

You were his angel, his peace and bliss- light at the end of the fucking tunnel and all that bullshit he spent years looking for and reading about but didn’t quite believe until he met you. He believed it. But- were you truly the angel they said you were? Robby and Langdon? For even the devil was once God’s most precious angel. The fall was so far up from the pedestal they put you on, and at this moment all you felt was the wind rushing against your body. You guess you’ll have to brace yourself for the impact of reality sooner or later. 

[valyrianvibranium]

THE DEVIL'S ADVOCATE.

Antichrist!Aemond Targaryen x female Reader

WARNINGS: SEXUAL CONTENT—MINORS DNI; dub con, p in v, fingering (with gloves 😮‍💨), dacryphilia, choking, degrading, unprotected sex, power imbalance, female reader

WORDS: 4.7 K

NOTES: Yes, this is based on American Horror Story Apocalypse. Michael Langdon is just so *phew* that I had to adapt it to Aemond. This is so self indulgent, I'm not even sorry. @kaelabear you're getting the special taglist. @arcielee thank you for beta reading this! <3

You have lost track of how many days, months, or even years have passed since your arrival in Outpost 3, and gods, you’d give it all right away to be back in one of the holding cells the government had put you in around the time the bombs rained down over King’s Landing. 

Even though you received the status as a purple upon your arrival, therefore placing you to the upper-class elites specifically selected for survival, you couldn’t be worse off. At least there you’ve been allowed to do your own thing – as far as the confines allowed you to. 

The nutritional cubes they serve you are rationed, with Ms. Misery announcing they’ll have to ration them even further in the next days, and on top of being hungry and bored, you haven’t had a good fuck in quite the while. 

Sexual contact, or any kind of copulation, is strictly forbidden, and you’ve witnessed firsthand what it means to break Miserys’ rules – not that you’d make any moves on the other residents occupying the former exclusive boys school anyways. 

It’s only been you and your hand, sometimes even your pillow, from the very beginning on until now, and truth be told? You’re sick of it. 

At some point you’ve stopped getting yourself off, only because your body longed for physical contact, for someone else’s body on your own. 

And what certainly doesn’t help with your misery is the mysterious man that arrived just a few days ago. 

When he introduced himself as Targaryen, you knew his arrival was something that came partnered with power. As much as you would have liked to focus on his speech to campaign himself, you found it was far too difficult to care about humanity being on the brink of failure when the man telling you about it was so, so damn easy on the eyes.

Just the sight of his sharp features, regardless of a part of them being concealed by a black eyepatch, has been enough to make your mouth water. And when your eyes traveled lower, taking in the way his black slacks all but hugged his toned thighs, all was lost for you. 

You’ve been grateful that Laenor pounced on him to be interviewed first, wanting to see if he'd be worthy enough to be relocated to the so-called sanctuary, because you certainly would have jumped Targaryens’ bones right then and there. 

His alluring aura, the dominance radiating off of him – it all are factors that drive your aching body to insanity. and the nights that followed you found your relief more than once with the image of him flashing right before your eyes. 

Some time has passed in which you’ve barely seen him around, only hearing of him through the stories of the other residents that have been interviewed by him; now it’s your turn to warm the large chair standing in front of the imposing Mahogany desk. 

It’s the door behind you sliding open that lets your heart drop into the pit of your stomach, and you fidget with your fingers to stop yourself from turning around. You don’t want to be caught staring in the first few seconds already. 

You hear your name fall past his lips so smoothly it sends a shiver down your spine. You give in to the temptation and watch him step inside with an air of mellow gratification, prowling around the desk until he eventually sits down in the empty seat across from you.

“There’s no need to be nervous,” he purrs, a glint of mischief dancing in his eye. 

There comes no reply from you, instead you continue to fumble with your fingers, looking at what you assume to be your file splayed out on the desk in front of him. 

It’s the dismissive hum that rumbles in his chest that finally piques your interest, and when your gaze settles on him again, you spot him touch his chin thoughtfully as his eye skimps over the pages, seeming as if he’s reading it for the first time. 

The red gloves he wears stand in stark contrast to the otherwise colorless rest of his outfit, your gaze drawn to them like a moth to a flame. He has worn them upon his arrival already; the smooth leather shining in the dim light of the candles makes your mind wander to more indecent things. 

He tilts his head up again to meet your gaze, his smooth and calming voice ringing out. “Your genetic profile would appear to be favorable, so you can say that this interview is solely conducted as a… precaution.” Though it’s meant to be reassuring, the deliberate pause he makes doesn’t seem convincing. 

His words make you frown. “What for?” you ask, and you curse yourself for how blunt and bold your voice sounds. “Aren’t you in need of relocating the last few people that pass on good genes, now that this is the last outpost standing?” 

The genuine laugh he offers you prompts you to lean back in your seat, juxtaposing the way he leans forwards in his. Something in the arrogance that radiates off of him, and the smug smirk he has on his lips, feeds your irritation. 

“Doesn’t seem like you can afford to be picky,” you snap back at him. 

He licks his lips, and although it’s not longer than a second, your mind immediately drifts off to think about how it would feel between your legs, how he would feel between them. You try to be subtle as you shift in your seat, barely moving enough to soothe the aching that blooms at the apex of them. 

“We’re making the selections as carefully as possible,” he counters. The paper of your file is pinched between his index and thumb, rubbing it between the pads of his fingers. “We need to ensure the survival of humanity, and I’m sure you understand that we have to look for a certain level of ambition in the people we choose.”

Even though his explanation is vague, and doesn’t make much sense to you, it is strangely appealing. The word ambition is such a broad term that could mean anything from career-minded to cutthroat, yet you still have to figure out exactly what he means. 

The tension grows thicker and thicker with each passing second of silence, and you feel a warm sensation spreading inside of you from his intense gaze – which is perhaps also due to the hint of desire that gleams in his eye as he regards you. 

You try your best to ignore the way your heart races, wanting to diminish the warmth inside of you. But to no avail. 

When he rises from his seat, your heart drops into your stomach again, and your eyes grow wide with curiosity and intrigue. 

It’s a brief flicker of your eyes down his body that has you squeezing your thighs together, far too distracted by how tall he is than to notice the smug smirk that tugs at the corners of his lips. 

“Would you say that you’ve… settled here?” he asks, his voice carrying a hint of something you find difficult to decipher.  

He slowly stalks around the desk, the tips of his leather-clad fingers smoothly gliding over the dark wood. His eye lingers on your face, taking you in and assessing your reaction. His expression holds the same edge of darkness his voice does, though he isn’t hiding it as effectively as he thinks he is this time. 

Your eyes never leave his frame when he comes to stand next to you, leaning back against the desk. He’s gripping the edge of it, and even in the dim light of the candles, you notice that it’s rather tightly, almost as if he’s suppressing the urge to touch you. 

“Well, I suppose I’ve managed to adjust,” you reply. 

For a brief moment, neither of you says anything. He just stares at you with this cold precision – until you catch his eye flitting lower, trailing over your form. 

The purple gown you wear isn’t revealing at all, not that Ms. Misery would allow you to wear anything of that sort anyways. The neckline is squared with raised yet off-the-shoulder structured shoulders that leave little to the imagination – but only if you’ve been touch deprived for long enough.

And, judging by the way his jaw clenches as his eye meets yours again, you can tell it’s also been a while for him. 

The thought of it makes your blood run hot, the warmth now spreading to your cheeks. Your gaze falls to your lap, watching your fingers fumble with each other while you feel his bore into your frame. 

There’s a hum rumbling in his chest once again, but this time it sounds more like a purr, as if he finds satisfaction in your nervousness. “Are you normally this flustered in front of men… or is it just me?”

A sudden rush of excitement and embarrassment floods your veins as your mind processes his words; your head snaps back up to look at him, and you’re greeted by a teasing grin. 

“I’m not flustered,” you reply, your voice only wavering slightly, yet you know that it’s clear to him that you’re not being very honest. He’s well aware of the effect he’s having on you. 

He tsks, a dangerous glint in his eye. “I mean, I can see you,” he says, gesturing to you with his hand. “You’re licking your lips, you can’t meet my eyes for more than a few seconds, your cheeks are flushed – it’s clear your body yearns to be touched…” he trails off, smirking to himself as he briefly glances to the ground. “... by me.”

His statement catches you off-guard. A quick exhale from your nose leaves you feeling winded with the sensations of butterflies wreaking havoc within your body. 

The silence between you lingers, heavy and thick as you ponder over his words, and you decide to go all in. You glance at him sideways, before speaking. “Is that so?”

His eye darkens at your coy demeanor, and with the corners of his quirking up into a sly smirk, he reveals just a glimpse of the devil that lurks beneath the angelic exterior. “Oh, it is,” he replies with a mocking tone. “I know you’re getting off to the thoughts of me at night, sweet thing. And even right now, you’re dripping for me. It’s almost pathetic.”

He almost seems relieved as he finally reaches to trace a gentle line over your exposed shoulder, starting at the crook of your neck. His light touch and the coldness of his gloves cause you to shiver involuntarily, and makes your breathing heavy. 

As if he’s searching for something within yours, his eye narrows, and your mind races with the possibility of what such a look might signify. 

“Look at you,” he purrs, licking his pouty lips. “You’re sitting here, just waiting for me to take things a step further – all the while I could smell that sweet pussy of yours ever since I’ve stepped into the room.”

Your mouth goes dry at his words, making it difficult to swallow, and you feel yourself clench around nothing; the urge to squirm in your seat is nearly overwhelming. 

“That sweet scent of yours…” he trails off. Mesmerized by his words and confidence, you almost flinch when he pushes himself off the desk, slowly kneeling down to be on a level with you, hovering close to you like a predator pretending to pounce. 

Your breath is heavy, and with your body still facing the desk, you’re forced to turn your head to the side to meet his gaze. There are mere inches between your faces now, and you feel his minty breath fan over your lips, swollen from how often you've licked them at this point. 

He brushes a strand of hair behind your ear, and heat follows where the cold leather of his gloves ghosted over your skin. “So desperate to be touched… to be filled,” he hums. While embarrassment blossoms inside of you, there’s no amusement laced within his silky voice. It’s as if he’s just stating facts. “Or am I mistaken?” Your name topples past his lips with so much ease, it makes you imagine how it would sound moaned by him.

Your head begins to swim. His scent, his domineering aura, the warmth emanating off of him – it’s all too much and not enough. 

Meekly shaking your head, the ‘no’ you reply comes out not louder than a whisper. 

He takes in a quick breath of air, relishing in his victory. The way you submit to him, to his power and dominance, feeds something within him; a hunger that’s been growing more and more demanding from the moment he stepped into the room with you. 

“Good girl,” he purrs, slowly rising to his full height, stretching his fingers as he keeps his eye locked on you. A flush spreads over your cheeks at his praise, the subconscious urge to make him proud sending a shiver of excitement through your veins, feeding right into your desire to please him. 

He’s standing again, letting his eye drift over your sitting frame for a moment too long, trailing down your neck, over the curves of your breasts, and settling in your lap. A gloved hand comes forward to pinch the skirts of your gown between his fingers, an almost disgusted look on his features. 

“Take it off.”

“W-What?” 

“W-w-what?” he mocks, the scoff he releases filling you with shame. “Take it off,” he repeats. “Or else I will take it off of you, and that won’t be any more pleasant.”

The thought of him undressing you seems tempting. A small part of you wants to protest, to say something along the lines of ‘you can’t just demand something like this’ but the other part craves this. It feels as if it’s quintessential for your body to survive, not able to go one day longer without being touched at all. 

Rising to your feet, you smooth out the skirts of your dress before craning your neck to look up at him. He’s towering over you, hardly stepping back far enough to create any space for you to undress. 

Having always been a bit of a pain to put on, getting out of the dress was even worse. The tight fit and squared neckline leaves you with very limited mobility, meaning you’re always relying on a servant to help you get out of it. And facing these difficulties, the thought of removing it all by yourself, especially in front of him, seems almost sacrilegious. 

A thought pops into your mind, and your body is quick enough to get through with it before you can even think about it properly. 

“Care to help me?” you ask, batting your eyelashes at him. Before he can refuse, you brush your hair over one shoulder and turn around, presenting him with your back and the tightly laced corset. 

Much to your surprise, he doesn’t refuse, and you say nothing as his fingers find the lacing of your corset, gloves brushing your skin as he slowly undos the laces. 

It’s a slow process, one that builds anticipation within you, and has you squeezing your thighs together yet again. 

His caresses are light and careful at first, but they grow increasingly firm and forceful. Each tug and pull draws you closer to him, and only when you hear the same dismissive hum rumbling in his chest do you dare to glimpse at him from over your shoulder, seeing him staring at your back with his jaw set with a new purpose. 

The fabric is still pinched between his fingers when they suddenly change course, gripping the purple fabric around the lace with a bit more force than necessary. He rips open the corset in a single, harsh motion in a clear display of his impatience, the torn fabric hitting the ground with a thud, and your gown quickly follows suit. 

For a moment, you feel relief at being freed from its confines. But it’s fleeting, your skin immediately prickling as you become aware of how much of your body is exposed to him now. 

It’s weird to think that this thin layer of modesty has been enough to keep your fluttering nerves at bay, and now it’s peeled away with you knowing he’s gazing at you as if he’s been served his first meal in months. 

Easing your trembling legs, you hold onto the desk for support. It feels like an eternity as you crouch forward slightly to steady your uneven breathing, the moment only breaking as he advances towards you, his body leaning against yours and pressing you up against the desk. It’s the only thing keeping you upright, and the moment you feel his hot breath caress your neck, your legs feel like they are about to give in. 

His thigh slips between yours, but you can’t feel his hands on your body, assuming he’s clasped them behind his back or kept them at his sides. You can tell that his chest isn’t the only firm thing that presses against your body, his cock rock hard and all but straining against your lower back, clearly finding as much pleasure in the situation as you do.

His proximity is all you’ve thought of for the past days, yet it’s not enough. You need his hands, him, to feel thoroughly satisfied. The urge to whine scratches in your throat, but you manage to swallow it at the last moment. 

“Beg for me to touch you,” he drawls, voice laced with a mixture of excitement and hunger. 

Exhaling a strained breath, you close your eyes. “P-Please,” you whimper, barely loud enough for him to hear. “Please… touch me. It’s been so long.”

“Hm.” You hear it loud and clear, the amusement, the satisfaction, causing your skin to heat up. “That’s all you’ve got?”

You tip your head back in frustration, meeting with his shoulder, a loud huff slipping past your lips. But you’re so close to getting what you want, there’s no way you’re giving up already. 

“Please, please touch me… Mr. Targaryen.” His name is spoken with a bit of hesitation. “I-I- please, fuck, need it so, so bad. Please.” That you’re not stomping your feet on the ground like an insolent child is everything, knowing it would push your chance for relief further away. 

But it seems to do the trick, because one gloved hand settles on your hip without him saying anything, while the other clasps around the outside of your thigh, his thumb brushing smooth patterns over your hot skin. 

He drags his nose along the side of your face, his breath tickling your skin, and you slightly turn your head to lean into it. “Where else do you want me to touch, mh?”

Feeling him on every inch of your body has you far too aroused to be frustrated by his on-going teasing and stalling. “Right…” you pant, peeling his hand from your hip to bring it down between your legs, “... here.”

A quiet whine slips past your lips as his fingers make contact with your sensitive clit, the cold leather of his gloves against your hot skin striking you as a welcome surprise and sending a shiver down your spine. It feels foreign, but nice nevertheless.  

You’ve fully anticipated him to pull back again, to leave you high and dry, but he surprises you again, when he drags his fingers through your swollen folds. 

“Right here, mh?” he purrs into your ear with a husky voice. 

It’s a grazing touch that alone is enough to make your mind hazy, merely humming in return. 

He’s not doing more than rubbing your clit and brushing his digits through your folds, but you’re wet enough already for it to be audible. The squelching sounds coming from between your legs are embarrassing, clearly highlighting your desperation for him, and it only gets worse when he slips a finger inside of you. 

Taking in a sharp breath, you hold onto the desk again. “God, fuck,” you whine. 

His finger is thick enough to be accompanied with a slight burning stretch, intensifying the moment he adds another. You can’t resist the urge to grind against his hand, the base of it applying just enough pressure to your clit to numb any discomfort. 

“You like that, mh?” he rasps. “So fucking wet and desperate for my fingers, dripping all over my glove.”

A string of whiny yesses leaves your lips as the pace of his fingers increases, making it incredibly difficult for your hips to maintain the rhythm. 

Heavy breaths and pants fan over your flushed skin, spurring you on and bringing you closer to the sweet relief you’ve craved for so long. He seems to sense your impending orgasm, and works you just a moment longer, before he withdraws his fingers from you, making sure the loss would make it even worse. 

But there’s no time to whine. 

“Look at the mess you’ve made,” he teases, acting as if he’s completely oblivious to the torture he puts you through, and brings his gloved hand up to your face. 

The red leather is covered in your arousal, sticky and glistening even in the dim light. As he spreads the two fingers, a few strings of it connect the leather, and you bite your bottom lip, knowing all too well what might follow. 

“Open your mouth, pet,” he commands in a stern voice. “Clean up your mess.” 

And you comply, parting your lips and eagerly embracing him pushing them inside. Your tongue swirls around the digits, the leather tasting and feeling completely different on your tongue. 

You hardly notice that his other hand has left your thigh, and even less that he’s undoing the zipper of his slacks, pulling out his hard cock. Only when you feel the pressure against your entrance do your eyes widen, and you whine around his fingers as he pushes inside. 

Even though you are stretched from his digits, it can not compare to his cock. 

He’s filling you to the brim in one, swift thrust, and with you being gagged by his gloved fingers, you can’t do more than mewl and moan. “Fuck, tight cunt taking my cock, hm? That’s it, such a good, little pet.”

Not giving you the chance to adjust to his size, he sets up a reckless pace from the very start, his impatience running thin with the way your tightness embraces him. He fucks you as if it’s a one time thing, as if you won’t make the cut, but something inside of you tells you this is merely the beginning. 

Saliva trickles down your chin as his cock drives deeper and deeper, forcing moan after moan past your lips and his gloved fingers. It’s the sounds of skin slapping against skin, his strained grunts and your muffled whines filling the room, and if Ms. Misery were to find out, you would be tortured or killed even before the next day arrived. 

Maybe it’s the risk of being caught that drives him to his next step, but he withdraws his fingers from your mouth, gloved hand coming down to rest around your throat instead. He applies just a bit of pressure, merely meaning to hold you upright and steady to make it easier for him to use you to his liking.

You scramble for hold, sweaty palms planted flatly on the wooden surface in front of you, supporting yourself as the man behind you all but fucked every coherent thought out of your brain. 

“Look at you,” he grunts, pounding into your needy cunt. The tip of his cock brushes your sweet spot, pushing high enough to knock the air out of your lungs and make you lose yourself. “All you’ve been thinking about was my cock. So desperate to be fucked by me, huh?”

You are so full with him, his scent, his warmth, everything, that breathy whines and yesses are the only things slipping past your lips. 

He drags his nose along the side of your face, clearly relishing in the way he’s fucked you dumb with so little effort already, and you almost feel yourself come on spot the moment he presses his lips to your earlobe. 

Pushing his hips all the way into yours, he stills them for a moment, bringing up a gloved hand to spit on his fingers and before dragging them harshly over your sensitive clit, and putting you straight into a frenzy. 

The tears that were brimming in your eyes now spill and run down your flushed cheeks, hitting the desk he has you hunched over. 

“No need to cry, pet,” the man behind you drawls, a satisfaction weaved in his husky voice. “You wanted this, didn't you? Wanted my cock to fuck you stupid? Or do you want me to stop?”

Your blank mind barely processes his words, but just hearing the word stop has you finding your voice again. “N-no,” you whine, arching your back and pressing your ass back against him. “Don’t-don’t stop, Sir. ‘M so, so close.”

“Close, mh? Then fucking come for me.”

With his hand now applying a good bit of pressure to your throat and his fingers strumming your clit in a reckless pattern, you feel yourself getting lightheaded as your release hits you suddenly. 

His strained groans are hushed against your neck as you spasm around him, sucking him in hungrily. He works you through it, fucking you as you quiver and shake. Grinding against him, you ride your high out in rhythm with his thrusts, gasping each time his cock pistones inside of you. 

His hips falter slightly for a moment, caught off guard by how tightly your walls are squeezing him, but he regains his composure and sets up a brutal pace again. You’re swollen and raw by now, but he doesn't stop. 

“That’s it, fuck, I’m gonna get this pathetic cunt stuffed with my cum,” he grunts, pulling his hand from your clit to plant it on your hip. 

Each rut of his hips makes your eyes journey to the ceiling, the tears on your cheeks now dry. There are hiccuped breaths spilling from your mouth, and you can’t do more than to hold onto the desk, bracing yourself for his relentless pounding. 

With a stutter of his hips and a raspy groan escaping his throat, his cock eventually spills deep inside of you, coating your walls. He fucks it into you with deliberately slow thrusts, the last spurts of his warm release filling you to the brim.

A strained groan is audible as he pulls out, tucking himself back in his slacks, and assumes the cold demeanor he’s had before. The only courtesy he grants you is picking up your dress and underwear he’s torn off you before, holding it out for you to take. 

You get the cue, and dress yourself on trembling legs. The blonde watches curiously, leaning back against the desk again. The red gloves now lay on the desk, and you catch a glimpse of his long, ring-clad fingers. 

With flushed cheeks, you briefly look at the ground before presenting him your back again. “Do you mind?” 

He nods and steps towards you, silently lacing up your corset, and whenever his skin brushes yours, a shiver runs down your spine. His skin is soft, smooth even, and the warmth emanating from them is far more pleasant than the cold leather.

But the moment is fleeting as he quickly moves to sit down behind his desk again, a new file already pinched between his fingers. You smoothen out the skirt of your dress, merely bowing your head once, and make a beeline for the door. 

It’s his voice ringing out that stops you in your tracks, though you don’t dare to turn around. 

“I expect you to come back for your second interview tomorrow. See it as an opportunity for me to gauge whether or not you truly have the right… ambition.”

“Thank you, Mr. Targaryen,” you mumble in return, a strange sense of satisfaction and anticipation already coursing through your veins. 

Hearing your name once again, you turn your head to look at him. “There’s no need to be formal when it’s just us. You can call me Aemond.”

Taglist: @heimtathurs @croatianprincess @nina2697 @malfoytargaryen @thetaygaryen @wintrr13 @winter-soldier-101 @kyuupidwrites @boofy1998 @thekinslayersswordhand @sagelovesreading @jiminie-08 @doublesparrows @at-a-rax-ia @fan-goddess @recorddust @tsujifreya @melsunshine @drwstarkeyy @kazuyatokue @moonlightfoxx @bbgmonsay @thatmysteriousblog @ashovertheriver @black-dread @watercolorskyy @nothingqueens @urmomsgirlfriend1 @lovelykhaleesiii @hypocritic-trash-baby @darylandbethfanforever9 @snowystark @connorsui @valeskafics

[at-this-point-i-dont-even-know]

Lean On Me (Part 6/7)

Pairing: Dr Michael 'Robby" Robinavitch x younger! Langdon's little sister! reader

Apologies and making up

Warnings: 18+ only MDNI, explicit sexual content, P in V sex and oral (female receiving)

(i don't normally write smut..... so I'm so sorry)

part five/ part six

taglist: @dayswithoutcoffee, @hagarsays, @4ishere, @omgbrianab, antisocialfiore, eugene-emt-roe @andabuttonnose @nosebeers @qardasngan

“Can we talk?”

You want to say no, tell him to fuck off and to leave you alone.

But one look at Michael's slumped shoulders and big brown sad eyes, all words of anger slowly fade away.

“You can wait outside and walk me home.” You say, nodding to the closing you were almost done with. It was another waitress's turn to mop the floors and close the till so all you had to do was pop some chairs on tables and find your comfy clothes and dog.

He didn’t protest, just turned on his heels and closed the door slowly, not letting it slam like it normally always did.

“Sweetie, I'll finish up. You go make that man grovel.” Holly says, her southern twang getting heavy as it always does the later the night goes. 

-------------------------------------------------------------------

Dog is excited to see you, wagging her tail and jumping as you put on your comfiest sweatpants and shirt, not a sexy outfit to make Michael grovel in, but other than your work uniform, that currently reeks of wings, this was all you had in your locker.

Michael was waiting by the front door when you came out, one hand in his pocket the other holding an almost filtered down cigarette in the other.

“Those things will kill you.” you say as a greeting, motioning for Dog to follow you, not waiting to see if Michael does.

But he does, because he waited to speak with you. With his longer legs he caught up quickly, only pausing for a moment to throw away the now dead cigarette in a bin.

“I’m sorry.” He blurts out as you turn a corner onto a main street.

“For?” You’re being petulant and you can hear the bratty tone.

“I was judging you, and I had no right.”

“You don’t have any right.” You agreed.

“And I was mad.” He admits, his hand reaching out and stopping you. You can’t bring yourself to turn to face him though.

“Not at you, I was mad at your parents, at Frank, and the whole situation you have been stuck in.”

“You don’t get to be mad on my behalf Michael, I’m not mad.” 

He grabs your chin and pulls it gently so you’re looking up at him, and your knees threaten to buckle.

“You should be mad, you were a child forced to be an adult.”

“Michael-” you start and then stop, trying to process how to explain your life to him, “The injustice of everything is not new to me. I have been mad. I’ve thrown tantrums and screamed into the void. I’ve drunken myself into madness and pulled myself out of it. You have literally just learnt something I have been dealing with for years.”

You turn fully to him and with a shaky hand cup his jaw, “You are an incredible man, and friend, but not even you Doctor Michael Robinavitch, get to feel things on my behalf.”

He nods slowly and takes your hand from his face and holds it to his chest.

“Have you ever had anyone look after you?” it's almost a whisper the way he asks, and your heart does a little flip.

“Frank does it in his own way, when he’s clean, and I have friends, everyone in that club is my friend.”

“But no one looks just after you?”

You laugh and pull him along, Dog pulling on her lead to continue walking.

“I don’t have a Primary Care Provider, no.” you laugh at your own joke but Michael is still all serious. His brow again locked in the little ‘v’ shape and his mouth is tense.

“What?” 

“I want to look after you.”

His admission has you stopping again, your feet unable to move and your mouth open as you struggle to find a response.

“I want to look after you,” he says again, this time with more force, “I want to be the one you come to when everything's too much, or you need help.”

You shake your head and step away.

“It’s too much, Michael. You have enough on your shoulders, my burdens are not yours.”

“Your burdens are not even yours! Your burdens are from your parents and your brother! I want to help.”

“Michael, I like you- like a lot, but I don’t want someone to take away my burdens, or to save me.”

“I’m not trying to save you but-”

“No, if you want my burdens, then I get yours too. If you want this friendship I mean.”

At this point Dog is pulling more, wanting to continue her walk to find better and amazing smells. So you pull away from Michael, the word friendship hanging awkwardly between you two.

Was it a friendship?

Or was the tension you felt every time he was near something more?

“No.”

With one word you stop in your tracks.

No?

No to your friendship?

“I don’t want to be friends with you.” 

His voice is low, almost gravelly as he stands behind you, his chest against your back.

“Ok-” You try to step away, but he grabs your arms and turns you around. Dogs lead now wrapped awkwardly around your body as you look up at him, trying to hide the hurt in your eyes as you prepare for rejection.

A whimper catches in your throat as you look into his eyes, the look you get back in enough for your bones to melt and all inhibitions to fade away.

“I don’t want to be your friend.” he admits, his lips now a breath away from yours.

“I want you.” There’s a hunger in his words and suddenly his mouth descends and crashes into yours with such force you crumb, but his arms are around you holding you up.

You muster the strength to cling to him, grabbing at his shirt and pulling him closer. You are both fighting for dominance and for a need to be as close together as you can. 

He tastes like heaven on your tongue, minty and smokey from the cigarette. But there's more behind the kiss, a promise of safety and connection that wraps you up as tight as Michael does, holding you on the very public street.

“We should go-” you say against his lips, smiling as he groans, his knees buckling slightly as you nip at his bottom lip.

He ignores your weak protest and moves his attention from your lips to your neck, biting and scraping his teeth against your skin, you feel goosebumps and shivers as your body betrays you, screaming with want for his touch.

“I live around the corner.” you breath out, each word a struggle as Michael bites down on your collar bone, you just know an impossible to hide hickey is now forming.

He’s ignoring you, and ignoring Dog who is now whining at your feet.

You push him away, and smile up at him. The doctor is smiling, a big goofy smile as you gently bring your fingers to your lips, they are bruised and slightly scratched from his beard but you can’t help but mirror the dorky smile.

“Can I walk you home?” He asks, as if that wasn’t what had been the plan before you both lost yourselves in each other.

“Please.” you beg grabbing his hand and pull him down the street.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

You barely make it inside the apartment before you’ve kicked off your shoes, and hurrying Dog into her crate, the young puppy excited to get into her bed and was asleep before her head was on the plush bedding. 

You turn to Michael slowly as you double lock your door and watch him take in the small apartment.

Frank's place was practically unfurnished, a couple of bar stools at the kitchen counter, a couch in the small living room and two bedrooms which had two box queen beds and no bedside tables.

 Your underwear has been thrown on the floor from this morning and your dishes are still on the counter after you and Dog had shared a toasted cheese before work.

But Michaels eyes barely register any of that as he turns back to you, the hunger reflecting back.

“Come here.” he commands, and you obey, cursing yourself for how quick you are to do what he says, after the evening and discussions you both have had.

“Do you want to talk about this?” he asks, as if knowing what you are thinking but you shake your head.

“I don't want to talk anymore.” you plead up at him.

Michael grabs you around the waist, lifting you effortlessly onto the kitchen counter, he settles himself between your legs. From the hard bulge against your thigh it was obvious he was also done with the talking portion of the evening.

You lean into his touch, pressing your legs tight around him. His hands slides up your thigh, up your waist and push the material of your shirt higher until his long fingers disappear under the material. You shiver against his gentle touch, as it skims the band of your bra.

“You are beautiful.” he breathes as he loses his patience, your shirt now somehow on the floor. You feel your nipples harden not from the cool air but from the attention they were now getting from Michaels fingers through the lacy material. 

You yearned to touch him, his jacket long gone and the cotton shirt he wore clung to him, highlighting his broad shoulders and surprisingly muscular arms. You lean out and grasp them, itching to touch him further and more but you hesitate slightly.

You two were about to cross a line that could never be uncrossed, you look up at him and pause.

“Do you want this?” you ask, your voice small, frightful that he might come to his senses and leave you.

His response was a growl at the back of his throat and a kiss so harsh against your lips you feel the wind being knocked out of you.

“I want this.” he says between breaths as he clings to you. His hands now grasping your ass and lifting you from the counter. You wrap your legs around him, your lips on his neck. The scent of him was intoxicating, sandalwood and sweat. Which you should not find attractive but as he lowers himself onto the couch, you now astride his lap, you feel it. Against his still clothed arousal you are wet for him.

You need him in a way, you don’t think you have ever wanted someone before.

Your hands travel down from his soft shirt, trailing his soft stomach until you get to his jeans, you can see the outline of his want pressed against the material and with slightly shaking hands you pop his jeans button and unzip him.

He doesn’t say anything, but he nips at your lower lip as you slide your hand in and grasp him. 

The jeans had hidden what you had found, he was bigger, thicker and wider. 

Holy fuck! You say to yourself, as you rub your thumb across the tip, smearing pre-cum. You bring your hand up and with eye contact as you bring your fingers to your lips. 

Michael watches as you suck his cum off your thumb, and suddenly you’re on your back on the couch and he's above you. Hunger sparks behind his eyes as he moves his hand down your stomach, his every touch lightening a fire between your thighs. You ache for him, burn for him. You rutt your hips up trying to find some friction to stop the ache. 

“Please-” you beg, as his hand dips under your sweatpants, his fingers pushing your underwear to the side, and resting just above where you need him to touch.

“I like you begging, beg for me again.” he whispered, as he moved his hand back and forth just away from where you needed him to touch you.

“Please- please Michael! Fuck!” you were not a beggar in bed, but as he pulled your pants away, and ripped your panties, you realised you could happily beg for this every day.

He stepped away from you for a moment and you whine, verbally whine as you are left untouched and alone on the couch. 

But he returns quickly, his jeans and shirt gone, he stands proudly naked before you with a little gold package in one hand that he gently places on the table before returning to you. 

“Spread your legs for me.” He orders and you obey.

The moment his tongue touches your pussy you're gone, lost in the waves of pleasure as he adds a long finger inside you, teasing and making you crave more. 

You wanted to feel all of him, you pleaded out loud for more. Your voice is almost hoarse as you scream through an orgasm. His tongue never leaves your clit.

Michael only smirks against your pussy as he adds another finger, pulling a second orgasm from you in only seconds. 

He gives you just a moment to collect yourself, you pant as your body shakes through the aftermath of two earth shattering orgasms. You close your eyes to stop the room from spinning and feel the couch dip as he gets up.

“Please don’t go.” you whine, almost crying at how pitiful you sound. But he just laughs as you open your eyes.

He’s not gone far, just far enough for you to not feel his warmth but far enough to get the little gold packet from the coffee table. 

He unsheathes the condom and rolls it down his cock, never breaking eye contact with you.

You sit up slowly, leaning on your elbows as he returns to the couch. 

“I need you.” He admits and sits on the other end of the couch, you crawl forward to him, and settle your knees on either side of him, hovering just above his weeping cock for the moment.

“I’m still going to dance.” you tell him, and he raises a brow in question, “I’m still going to work where I work and you can’t complain.”

He growls again, which makes you smile, sweet Dr Michael Robinavitch is jealous.

“I don’t like it.” he admits, kissing your collarbone.

“I know- but it’s who I am.”

“Ok.”

You smile broadly and slide slightly down, his warm cock now resting just below your tight entrance.

“Okay?”

“Yes, god damnit” he hisses as you settle down onto his lap, slowly, as you take a moment to adjust to each inch. The fullness slams into you, you cry out, biting your lip and cry as he bottoms out.

God he felt good.

He felt like home, you admit, loudly you realise as he pulls you for a kiss. Neither of you move, too scared to break the moment but you can’t hold it. His length is so full against you, you need to move or you might cry.

The tension in Michael's jaw told you he too needed you to move. His thumb circled your clit, the muscle tender from your last two orgasms that it sends shock waves through your body. 

Your head falls back, as you slowly roll your hips, Michael groaning in response to each hip roll.

He let you stay there for a moment, letting you take control but you felt the moment he lost all patience with each agonisingly slow roll of your hips.

His fingers dug into your hips and he holds you in place before fucking you from below. Each punishingly hard thrust set your body aflame with need, you scream through an orgasm, his mouth on your again swallowing the sound as one hand crept up from you waist and found your breasts, your bra surprisingly still in place he pulls a breast from its cup and bites down hard on the flesh. 

Your body spirals through your fourth orgasm as he continues to pound into you, this time Michael follows you over the edge, he mutters a mix of obscenities and words of admiration as he continues to ride you both through your climaxes. You fall forward against his neck, enveloping yourself in the scent of sandalwood and sweat. 

You don’t want to move, even if you could feel your legs, as you stayed in his lap.

“Sweetheart, we should go to bed.” he says, cradling you against him.

You shake your head and stay where you are, feeling him still inside you as you close your eyes, the exhaustion of your evening and activities sending you into a peaceful sleep.

[storiesaplenty]

Main Masterlist

©️ storiesaplenty 2025: do not repost or translate my work. This is the only place I post my work. All readers are female, unless stated otherwise.

✉️ - Requested

Multiple

Stress Relief pt 1 (18+)

Stress Relief pt 2 (18+)

Dr Robby, Dr Abbott, & Dr Langdon x f/Reader - pt 1

Dennis Whitaker, Mateo Diaz, & Donnie Donahue x f/Reader - pt 2

Dr. Jack Abbott

Secretly Dating

You are secretly dating Dr Abbott. The secret comes out when you get hurt at the hospital.

Dr Michael "Robby" Robinavitch

Not all wounds are clear ✉️

Dr. Robby and you were once an item. You come in with a medical need. The two of you are obviously not pleased. You are his patient, and he's your doctor. Everything he does is scrutinized by you. He knows you like the back of his hand and sees you are close to having a panic attack. One night, he comes in and comforts you.

Dr Dennis Whitaker

In this together

A few months ago, Dr Whitaker had a one night stand, not knowing she was the daughter of Dr Robby.

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Part 4

Part 5

Part 6

Part 7

Part 8