#rue write

  “Well, we know how much of a nerd he is for horror movies,” Samira shrugs, leaning back on the counter next to you, taking a bite off her sandwich, talking with her mouth full, “But it’d be fun! We should drag everyone there.”

  “Absolutely! I wish we could somehow bring your man there too,” you elbow her gently, hiding your smile when she groans and stuffs her mouth full with another bite, “But you’re stuck with me and the rest of the day shift since he’s working.”

  “You’re talking like I don’t already tolerate you every single day,” she says after swallowing, wrapping the rest of her sandwich before she puts it in the fridge, following you outside to the Central. “Are you excited?”

  “Excited doesn’t even begin to explain how I feel,” you wink at her, resting your palms on the station, “I can’t wait to be a freak and annoy you as much as possible.”

  “Yes, well, you're a woman with a horrible crush on two masked men,” Samira rolls her eyes, noticing Robby walking around the floor with a tablet in his hands, “And on him as well.”

  “Okay, so one, it’s not that freaky to love a man with his ugly face hidden, and two, I don’t have a crush on him,” you reply to her, looking at her with a curious smile when she points at Robby standing against his station, “What?”

  “Nothing,” she shrugs innocently, mimicking your position by resting her weight on her elbows on the countertop of the station, “Just… I mean, come on! It’s obvious!”

  “No, we’re not gonna do that again, alright?” You hiss at her, glancing at Robby, finding him deeply focused on the computer in front of him, “Besides, I’m too excited about watching two hot men put on their masks. Do you wanna know one of my darkest fantasies ever?”

  “Absolutely fucking not, but I have a feeling you're gonna tell me anyway.”

  “Yup,” you nod, stepping closer to her so no one really hears what you are about to say, “I want my partner to recreate the first scene of the movie with me.”

  “Oh my god, you can’t be serious?” She gawks at you, shaking her head, running a hand down her face before she looks at you with defeated eyes, “Which scene exactly?”

  “The one at the beginning of the movie! Where he asks ‘Do you have a boyfriend?’ and she replies with ‘Do you wanna take me out on a date?’” 

  “You’re crazy,” Samira groans, dropping her head between her arms, “And then he chases you around with a knife. So very romantic.” 

  “You’re not freaky enough for my liking.” You take a tablet from the stand, trying to find a case that is worth investing in, “Not a knife though, just… breaking into my house, chasing me around, and fucking me until I can’t walk.”

  “Get out of my face, oh god,” she pushes you away gently, walking away from you with a shake of her head and an exhausted chuckle. “I’m gonna go and leave you alone with your obsession.”

  “Have fun saving lives!”

  ****

  Robby doesn’t want to listen, not at all. He isn’t meant to, he feels ashamed almost, but fucking hell, he is so glad he overheard you talking. He has never been this excited about anything; he feels as if his entire body is covered in glitter with club amplifiers on full volume inside his trunk.

  He’s been dreaming about you for a while now; about the way you smile, your laughter, your hands wrapping around your stethoscope, the way your eyes light up when a trauma rolls in. 

  Sometimes he lets his imagination wander, thinking about how pretty you would look if he pinned you against a wall somewhere, how your eyes would go wide if he wraps his fingers around your throat and squeezes your delicate neck until there isn’t a single thought in your head except for him.

  He wants to wreck you, break you even. But that is not gonna happen, or at least he used to think so. Now, with this newfound information, he could act on a few of his fantasies as well.

  “Hey,” he crosses the distance between the two of you as you walk out of a trauma room, sanitizing your hands while meeting him halfway. He smiles and hands you a tablet before leading you to a room.

  “Hey, boss,” you smile back sweetly, shying away from his very intense gaze — the one who is only reserved for you — and reading the lab results in front of you, “What’s up?”

  “Are you going to Shen’s thing this week?” He asks out of nowhere, stopping you before you have the chance to enter the room.

  He is not thinking clearly; he doesn’t even know why he asks that question, why he stops you. It’s none of his business if you go to Shen’s unique gathering; he shouldn’t care what you do, where you go, or who you go with. It shouldn’t matter, but it does, because the flame inside of him is growing every second just by remembering your words.

  “Of course! Wouldn’t miss it for the world!” You exclaim, grinning at him, “I love the movie! I don’t think I can ever miss watching it on a big screen. What about you?”

  “Uh, me? I don’t think so,” he shrugs, rubbing the back of his neck, already feeling his mask falling. Of course, he won’t be there, in that exact location, but he’ll be around, definitely. “I have to cover for Shen that night. Pulling a double so Jack won’t be lonely.”

  “That’s too bad,” you reply, pouting a little, “We’d thought you would be there, we were kinda hoping we could see you getting scared for the first time.”

  “I don’t get scared because of a movie like that,” he chuckles, looking at you with dark eyes, “I don’t think I’ve ever been scared of a movie, so you’re not losing anything.”

  “You can’t be serious!” You gawk at him, “Come on! There must be something you’ve watched that scared you!”

  “Nothing I can think of,” he shrugs, pushing his hands into the pockets of his hoodie, smirking slightly, “I like these types of movies, they’re amusing to watch, especially if I can see others losing their shit over it.”

  “You like when others are terrified…” You bite your lip, and he can see how your eyes glimmer with something he can’t pinpoint yet, but it is oddly familiar as if he is experiencing one right now, “How odd.”

  “We all have our source of… entertainment, let's say.” Robby says, pushing the door open to the trauma room, “Now, go back to work. I’ll see you at rounds.”

  ****

  He didn’t mean to follow you, or so he says, to feel less guilty. The plan wasn’t to follow you to the cinema and watch you from the darkest corner while you bit your lip at the sight of the Ghost face killing people. It sure as hell didn’t contain following the movements of your hands as you clutched the armchairs and squeezed your thighs together.

  God, you looked so delicate and desirable.

  Robby didn’t mean to follow you out either, keeping close to not lose your track and far enough not to be exposed. You turned around to check a few times, sensing someone might be following you home. But you trusted your neighborhood, you knew nothing bad would happen.

  What he did mean to do was to snatch your keys out of your backpack earlier today, before you left for the cinema with the rest of your friends, hiding them in one of the pockets of his pants before he left the hospital after you did, making sure Jack covered up for him while he took care of his business.

  Now, standing in front of your door with a black t-shirt, baggy gray sweatpants, and the very famous Ghost mask in his hand, he toys with the keys in his hand. 

  He knows you’ve used the spare one you keep under a flower vase next to your door — you should be more careful when you mumble into the dark about how you’ve lost your key. What if someone else was following you? You’re lucky it’s him, Robby, your boss, and the man who would do anything for you.

  He remembers your words. The first scene of the movie starts with a call and a knife, and then the chase. You’ve wanted to make this happen; who is he to deny you this enjoyment any longer?

  He stands behind one of your windows with the mask on, phone in hand — with a new SIM so his contact won’t pop up and ruin his surprise — and Jack’s pocket knife clutched in one hand.

  He dials your number, watching as you pour some tea for yourself in the kitchen, frowning a little when you walk to the counter to look at your phone before rejecting the call.

  Robby calls you again, twirling the knife in his hand as he waits for you to pick up, cock straining the fabric of his sweats as he stares at your thighs out in the open with the smallest shorts he has ever seen covering your ass.

  “Hello?” You answer, putting the phone between your ear and shoulder as you open the fridge, pulling out the leftovers of last night to warm up and eat.

  “Hello, sweetheart.”

  He smirks when you make a face of disgust, putting the phone down after you have filled your plate, staring at the screen with a deep frown.

  “Who’s this?” 

  “No one important,” Robby replies, “Just wanna talk to you for a while.”

  “There are 900 other numbers for that,” you tell him, “Goodbye.”

  He chuckles and watches as you hang up and put the plate in the microwave, sipping on your tea while you wait for the food to heat up. And he takes his chance to call you again, this time is the last though.

  “What do you want?!” You hiss at the phone, “Go bother someone else!”

  “No, no, shh, don’t hang up on me, sweetheart.” he moves around the house to keep track of your movements, watching as you move to the living room with your food. “Come on, tell me your name.”

  “I rather not,” you scoff, shaking your head as you sit on the floor and stretch your legs under the table, “I wanna go eat now, see ya–”

  “You wanna see me?” He asks with an amused tone, slowly inching forward to the entrance of your house, pushing the key in as slowly and quietly as possible, “That’s cute, don’t you have a boyfriend?”

  “No, but I don’t think that’s any of your business.”

  “Okay then, tell me what’s your name?” He successfully closes the door without making any noise, catching you still sitting behind the coffee table.

  “Fine!” You tell him your name, standing up to reach for the remote of the TV, “Why did you wanna know my name?”

  “Because I wanna know who I’m looking at.”

  You freeze on the spot, turning around slowly to find him at your entrance, playing with the knife with one hand and the other dropping the phone on the ground. He reaches for the back of his shirt, pulling it off in one swift movement, making the mask move a little.

  Robby. It’s Robby. With a peek at his beard and his Star of David against his chest, you are now sure it’s him.

  “R-Ro–”

  “Run, sweetheart.”

  He can literally see how your eyes light up with excitement from this distance. If he were close enough, he could probably watch as your eyes darken completely, and adrenaline rushes through your veins in an instant.

  You bolt, taking a run upstairs before you hear his quick footsteps following you. You want to giggle with delight, but the way he is chasing you around your own house, with a knife no less, there is a part of you that is scared in the best way possible.

  You let out a shriek when he grabs your ankle on the last step, pulling you down a little so he can lean over your back. But you’re faster, and a bit more determined to get away for the fun of it. So with a firm kick — gentle enough not to hurt — you push him away, and he drops the knife on the ground.

  Running towards your room, you are lucky enough to reach the door before he gets up and follows you. Despite his age, Robby bursts through the door in a blink of an eye, panting behind the mask as he slowly backs you up against the bed.

  Everything is a blur as he rounds the bed in a second, making you jump on the bed to run away from him, but he is so sharp and sees right through you. He grabs you by your calf, making sure you land face-first on the bed before he drags you to him.

  You try to push him away, kicking your feet mindlessly, finally a giggle slipping past your lips when Robby groans and grabs the back of your neck, squishing your face into your mattress as he takes his rightful place between your spread legs.

  He pushes his crotch against the very wet patch in your shorts, resting the pudge of his tummy in the dip of your back while you still try to keep up a fight. 

  Robby has you pinned beneath his weight, grabbing both of your wrists roughly before he holds them locked above your head, grinding his bulge against your crotch, groaning behind the mask as he holds you down with all his power.

  There will be bruises on your body by the time he is done with you. He knows you know that, and it only spurs him on when he sees how putty you become in his hold, arching your back and moving your hips to get an ounce of friction as best as possible.

  “Don’t fucking move,” he tangles his fingers in your hair, pressing down his weight on you completely, smirking when he hears your moan muffled by the mattress. “I’m gonna fuck you first, then I’ll think of what I have to do to you after.”

  He frees himself from his sweats, his cock bobbing in arousal as he grabs it by the base after he’s let go of your hair, stroking himself a few times. 

  He pushes your shorts to the side, tutting at the sight of your soaked pussy winking at him. “So wet, sweetheart. Thought you were scared of me, running around like that. You’re such a fucking slut.”

  You turn your head to the side, resting your cheek on the bed as you wait for him to fuck you, nodding mindlessly at the sound of him degrading you. 

  You look so, so hot right now; hair a mess, eyes glassy with lust, and a pretty cunt just for him to fuck. 

  He guides the tip of his dick to your hole, slowly breaching your walls with his cockhead before he holds onto your hips, feeling as you suck him in greedily. He slams the rest of his length inside you with abandon, clutching your hips with both hands and straightening his back.

  He starts fucking you without sparing you a single thought. He wants you, so he takes what he wants. His balls slap against your clit, making you moan loudly and claw at the sheets on your bed.

  You look so pretty with tears stinging your eyes and how desperately you try to meet his thrusts, but he is going too fast, too roughly for you to keep up. He likes how you no longer keep fighting and letting the pleasure consume you entirely.

  “Fuck,” he groans when you tighten around him, squeezing your walls and crying out his name without caring about neighbors, “So fucking tight, sweetheart. Why were you hiding this pussy from me for so long?”

  You can’t answer, not when he is driving inside you so deliciously, hitting your sweet spot rapidly while groaning behind the mask, holding you down with his hands and hips.

  “Ughhh,” you bite the sheets when you feel the warmth in your lower belly tightening, shifting into a knot while Robby brings you closer to the brink of your orgasm, “Oh, fuuuck–”

  “Yeah, there you go,” Robby chuckles, digging his nails in your hips as he fucks you carelessly, making sure your clit is rubbing against the edge of your bed, “Come for me, sweetheart. Let me see how much of a fucking freak you are.”

  You come hard; it’s mind-shattering, vision going white almost instantly with your eyes rolling to the back of your skull, and your nails nearly tearing through the layers of the silk bedsheets.

  He doesn’t slow down, he doesn’t want to, so instead, he fucks you through your climax until you are trying to kick him off you and flee from his hold. With a deep sigh, he pulls out of you, flipping you on your back before he crawls on top of the bed as well.

  You try to slap his chest and push him away, an act he notices as soon as he sees the stupid grin on your face. He smiles back behind the mask and grabs your wrist once again, pushing them above your head before he maneuvers your body until he’s got your ankles on his shoulders with his cock nudging between your folds.

  “I hate you–” you bite your lip, bracing yourself for him to slam himself inside you.

  “Mutual feelings, sweetheart,” he leans down, pressing your knees almost to your chest with his body before he rams his cock into you in one swift thrust, watching in awe as your lips part in a loud moan. “There you go,” he chuckles, “fucking take it.”

  You do just that, with your hands held above your head and your legs shaking around Robby’s neck with overstimulation, but you keep moaning for him, crying out his name as he hits your cervix over and over, feeling his cock twitching deep inside you.

  “Gonna come, fuuuuuck– gonna come inside you, sweetheart.”

  “Nooooo,” oh, you are good, “No, please, please, not inside!” You cry out, but the second you can, you wrap your arms around his body to keep him locked against you.

  He looks so good right now; sweaty chest, tummy holding you down, and the mask… fuck, the mask looks so hot on him, covering his face and neck with his golden chain swaying with each thrust. The noises he makes behind the plastic come out from the depths of his chest, and it makes goosebumps rise on your skin.

  “Oh, but I will.” He grunts, slamming his cock deeply inside your walls, sweat dripping from his body on yours, “That’s why you should never tell a stranger about where you keep your keys. Good thing it was me who broke in, huh?”

  You try to talk, say something in response, but the moment you feel him twitching inside you, then getting filled to the brim with his hot cum is enough to keep your mouth shut. 

  You watch as Robby drops his weight on your entirely, shallowly fucking you through his orgasm as he gives you one of the biggest loads he has ever had, coming inside you just as he has promised.

  He is conscious enough to free your legs from his shoulders and then rest on top of you, breathing deeply when you pull off the mask and find him blushing and sweating.

  “Hey,” you say, threading your fingers through his hair, “That was unexpected.”

  “I didn’t push you too much, did I?” He asks, frowning a little as he cranes his neck to look you in the eye. “Please tell me I didn’t.”