Robbie Rotten Novels & Stories

So yeah, I would stand. My disgust was made all the worse when Alissa introduced him as Robbie, whom I knew to be the leader of this little community, and I was grateful for Gage’s intel while we’d been holed up waiting out the acid rain. “It’s Robert.” He snapped, anger flashing across his face, and he seemed sinister as the shadows converged around him in the shady corner, his all black apparel causing him to blend in. Smoothing over his features after taking a deep inhale, the male introduced himself to me, not-so-subtly hinting at his power through his position, but I wasn’t impressed in the slightest.

It might not be necessary to shift, and it will be much easier to fight if I’m not wearing a dress. As soon as I’m dressed, I step outside and immediately hear a snarl. I turn to the left and there is a brown rogue wolf stalking towards me. You can always identify the rogues because they look mangey and deranged, like a dog who’s been abused and beaten. His fur is filthy, with a few patches missing, and he smells like vulture vomit. The combination of death and decay mixed with the burning, acidic scent of vomit is the worst possible combination.

"Nothing. The snow doesn't help us at all. When I found his body, he was half-buried under an inch of snow. But I'm willing to bet that this was done by them." By them, Scott meant the rogues and he wasn't wrong. A normal werewolf didn't do this. And while we had it in us to kill humans and devour their bodies, we no longer lived like that. We came a long way for us to be a bel to exist in civilization. We ate normal food and depended on animal hunts. The rogues, however, have been on a killing spree these last few months. And it's not for food. They're killing just for the thrill of it. It doesn't matter if it's humans or werewolves, rogues didn't care about that. There were good ones, yes,

The wall behind it mirrored, glass shelves held various bottles of liquor, stools sat lined up like soldiers in front of the slab of timber that had been painstakingly sanded and stained. A jukebox glowed in one corner of the room, and on the other side, a pool table whose green felt had seen better days. The stains of blood and drinks covered the once vibrant surface. A large oak table took up the middle of the room, twelve heavy chairs surrounded it. One word carved into the middle to remind anyone who was lucky enough to have a seat at the table why they were there “ROGUES”.

He held my shoulder and made me look at him, speaking in a harsh yet constrained tone, "Tony, Stop! Stop thinking you are dirty!" Robbie's eyes flashed with some complex emotion, which in my current state, I am not able to decipher, "You are NOT dirty! Do you get me? You are not at fault! Olsen is the dirty one! He is filthy! He is a sick lowly pervert... NOT YOU!" "Bu-but Robbie, how will I face Tw-Twen like this? What will he think of me? He will be so ashamed of me-"

he gave Nyx an approving nod— “you made the perfect choice. Finally becoming a man, huh?” I smirked, shaking his hand. “You talk too much for someone who’s supposed to be resting.” He chuckled, then turned to Nyx. “And you, young lady, are even prettier in person.” Nyx smiled softly. “Thank you, Mr. Rob. It’s nice to finally meet you.” “Please,” he waved a hand, “just Rob. ‘Mr.’ makes me sound old.” I couldn’t help the small smile tugging at my lips. That’s Rob—the oldest of my men. Fierce. Ruthless. Loyal to the bone. Sometimes too damn stubborn for a man without legs.

“She’s not for you, Robbie. She’s for the Captain and if she’s no longer a virgin when he gets her, there’ll be hell to pay.” “Well, Blackie, I’ve never known a woman to lose her virginity by having her tits rubbed. So there, so much you know about women.” Robbie reached out for her again, groping her breast, and pulling her forward. She lost her balance, falling against him, trying to pull away. But Robbie held her fast against his sweaty body, one hand around her waist, the other back on her breasts, groping her quickly.

"I can show you things far greater than what this little Luna can offer. Imagine it—everyone in this world bowing to your will. Everything you say—done. Wouldn't that be nice? All you have to do is join us. It'll be—" "I'm not interested!" Robbie barked. "I'm too lazy to try and rule the world!" I almost laughed. Almost. "Why would you lay your hands on my Luna?" "The Luna, the Luna, the Luna!!" the rogue spat. "Can't you talk about anything else?! The sight of this bitch irritates me! I'd love to choke the life out of you right now!" "You're mistaken if you think you'll be able to kill me so easily," I told her coolly, keeping my voice even despite the exhaustion coiling inside me.

After all, he had other much bigger plans in mind. "Ohh fuck, that's so fucking good!" Robb exclaimed with a guttural sigh as he suddenly pulled his aching monstercock out of the warm wetness of Lin's throat and stepped away from the cushiony, dick-hugging valley of her cleavage. Long, thick ropes of mixed saliva and precum still connected his flexing truncheon with Lin's beautiful lips and huge tits as he smiled at the flushed, perplexed brunette.

Some of these guys had been so horrible, I was surprised Liam was still friends with them. “Aria!” Robert said. No, it was definitely Robert, I remembered now. He always introduced himself as Robby to the single women, as if that made him more approachable. I hadn’t seen him in years, and had no idea why he was hanging out by my car, seemingly waiting for me. How was I supposed to respond? Was I to be courteous, or rude? Presumably he was still Liam’s friend so I leaned toward polite. “Hello…” “Robby,” he said, flashing me the same shark-like smile he often used in the bars and clubs.