#dr. michael robinavitch

[popcornpoppypop]

At The End Of The Day

Summary: Kit and Robby deal with having a newborn in the house. Robby notices changes with Kit. He'll keep her from drowning, no matter what.

Warnings: Postpartum depression, intrusive thoughts, bad moms, talks of birth

A/N: I have never had a baby nor postpartum. I did a lot of research for this one. I feel like there are a lot of fics that just end with the happy family and wanted to sprinkle a little reality in there. This is The Pitt after all.

The moonlight streamed in through the window, illuminating the bed and its inhabitants. The Robinavitch house was quiet; everyone was sleeping soundly. Michael and Kit were tangled in each other’s arms, Hawkeye snoring at their feet.

A cry crackles through the baby monitor on the nightstand.

The two stirred, Michael sitting up out of instinct and practically still unconscious. Kit groaned as she rolled over, pushing herself up.

“I got her.” Robby murmured.

“She needs to be fed.” Kit groaned.

“We have bottles in the fridge. Sleep.” He cleared his throat.

“And let my tits leak all over myself for no goddamn reason? Brilliant.” Kit snapped as she padded out of the room. Robby felt like he had whiplash, unsure what had just happened.

She’s tired, he thought. They both were. It had been only a week since they had brought Abby home. For the most part, they had adjusted. It was, however, evident that Kit was starting to feel the toll of their new responsibilities more than he was.

He got up and went to the nursery. He stood silent in the doorway, watching Kit. She sat in the rocking chair, the baby held to her breast. The shadows hid her face, the silhouette was still enough to take Robby’s breath away. He never would get used to the sight, something so intimate and beautiful about it. He had to choke back tears every time he saw her feed their baby.

The sound of sniffling made him tip his head in confusion.

He cleared his throat, a small warning that there was another person near, as he walked toward her.

Kit was in her own world, the baby suckling and her head bowed. She didn’t care that Robby was there.

He knelt in front of her, her face clearer, as were the tears falling down her cheeks. It took him by surprise.

“Kit?” His voice soft, afraid of startling her.

“Don’t.” She whispered. “I can’t do this right now.” Her voice was small and fragile.

“Alright. I’ll sit here then, that okay?” Robby put his hands on her knees. She nodded. They sat together in the moonlight as the baby finished feeding. Kit put Abby back in her crib, the baby settling back down.

Robby came up behind her, running his hands up and down her arms. The feeling had always calmed Kit, it was a small gesture that had saved her time and time again. Not this time. In this moment, it was closer to a cheese grater against her skin.

“Stop.” She bit and stomped off, back to the bedroom.

Robby stood staring at the doorway that Kit had just left through, a strange, dejected feeling washing over him.

The sun was streaming through the window, it beat against Kit’s eyelids. She groaned as she sat up. She looked over to see that Robby had woken up already.

The smell of coffee and food felt like a warm hug as she walked into the kitchen. Robby stood over the stove, the baby in her rocker on the floor near him. He looked up at the sound of Kit entering.

“Decaf is ready when you want it.” He smiled

“Great.” Kit forced a smile, he could tell.

“Do you want some eggs? I know they are hit or miss for you.” He observed her as she made her coffee. It was clinical more than romantic.

“That’s fine.” She shrugged.

“I can make something else, if you want.”

“That’s dumb, you’re already doing eggs, just make the damn eggs.” She sighed as she walked over to the table and set her mug down.

“O-kay.” Robby felt himself getting frustrated and did his best to stamp it out.

“When did she eat last?” Kit sipped her coffee.

“About an hour ago. She’s okay.” He smiled down at the baby as she gurgled in her rocker.

“Did you change her?”

“Yes. Honey, I’ve got her taken care of. Don’t worry about her right now.” He put the plate of eggs in front of her.

“Don’t be so patronizing. I’m just checking on my daughter.” Kit snapped.

“That’s not fair.” Robby looked down at her, his annoyance evident.

“Whatever.” She sighed. The baby started crying in her rocker. Kit moved to get up but Robby gestured for her to sit down. He gathered the baby up in his arms and cooed for her to settle.

“We’re going to go and play in the living room so you can have your breakfast.” Robby sighed as he walked off.

The day went on and Kit couldn’t shake the cloud over her head. Robby did his best to keep everything light.

Kit was sitting on the couch, watching some nonsense on the TV, Abby was lying on Robby’s chest. She watched as he rubbed gentle circles on her back. A thought flashed across her mind. It was terrifying and came out of nowhere.

He’s going to take her from you and you won’t care.

Kit shook her head, the tears burning her eyes.

He’s going to take her and you won’t see her again and you’ll be relieved.

She felt her chest tighten.

He’s going to take her because he knows what a bad mother you are, what a bad person you are.

She sat up straight in her seat, her hands rubbing up and down her thighs and breath picking up.

You’ll be so relieved when they aren’t here and you’ll get the confirmation that you’re no better than your mother.

Kit jumped up and rushed over to them.

“Give her to me.” She said, her voice panicked and shaky. She pried the baby off his chest.

“Kit, what the hell?” Robby looked up at her furious and confused.

“She’s my baby too. I’m allowed to hold her.” She snapped as she rushed out of the room. It was the first time Robby didn’t recognize his wife.

The tensions only grew worse over the next few weeks. Robby did his best to be understanding. He tried to give her space and let her work through whatever was going on.

“Can you just clean up after yourself, honestly!” Kit snapped as she tossed Robby’s coffee mug into the dishwasher that he had left in the sink.

“Kit, I put it down for a second. I was going back for it.” His shoulders were tensed.

“Oh, yeah, sure.” Kit scoffed.

“I’m tired of this. Can you tell me what I can do right?” Robby snapped.

“Don’t yell at me.”

“You don’t stop yelling at me and I have no idea what is happening!” Robby through his hands in the air.

“Just leave me alone, right now.” Kit hissed.

“Right. I’ll just go spend every waking moment with our baby that can’t hold a conversation yet. Fine.” He knew he shouldn’t have said it. But he did it anyway.

“If you don’t want to spend time with your daughter, why did you knock me up then!?” Kit barked.

“I’m not doing this.” Robby turned and stomped off.

Robby was at his wits end. He was trying so hard to help her. Any time he broached the subject, Kit brushed him off or bit his head off.

Kit could feel herself slipping away. She felt herself turning into something different. It was dark and heavy and she couldn’t figure out how to fight it. She knew that this wasn’t rare, but she didn’t think it would happen to her.

The late nights and early mornings were getting to her. She just needed some sleep, she told herself.

She stood rocking the baby in the living room, standing by the window to get some sunlight. Abby was cooing and wriggling in her arms. Kit watched her face scrunch up and test it’s flexibility. She should be enthralled, Kit thought. But she was indifferent.

Robby walked into the room, watching her stare down at Abby. The look on her face was disconcerting. He walked up behind her, putting a hand on her shoulder.

“She’s getting so animated with her face.” He hummed.

“She’s supposed to by now.” Kit’s voice was monotone.

“It’s fun to watch it happen, though.” Robby rubbed her shoulder.

“I need a shower.” Kit passed the baby off to him.  

“Kit?” Robby called after her.

“What?” She snapped.

“I know it’s hard. But you’re doing really well.” Robby smiled. Kit watched him for a long, silent moment. Tears pricked behind her eyes. She shook her head and left.

The baby monitor crackled with soft sounds that lulled Robby awake. He sat up, rubbing his eyes. He looked over to find himself alone in the bed. He was going to roll over and sleep when he heard the sounds again. It was soft, but the sobs of his wife had him up and out of the bedroom quick.

He walked into the nursery to find Kit in her rocking chair, the baby nursing in her arms. Her shoulders shook as she sobbed.

“Kitty, what’s wrong?” Robby fumbled his way over to her. “Is it painful? I can get that massage thing.” He moved to get up but Kit grabbed his wrist.

“I can’t do this, Michael.” She sobbed.

“What are you talking about?” Robby knelt down in front of her.

“I can’t…it’s too much. I might…I might hate her. I don’t want to hate her.” Kit sobbed. Robby’s heart stopped in his chest. The pain she’d been keeping to herself to spare them was breaking her.

“Honey. When…when did this start?” He brushed a stray hair from her face.

“I don’t know. I just keep having these thoughts, horrible thoughts. I hate who I am. It’s miserable.” Kit sobbed. The baby finished feeding and Robby took her and settled her in her crib.

“It’s okay. This happens. Everyone has scary thoughts, it doesn’t mean you hate her.” Robby put his hands on her knees.

“I-I’m turning into my mother.” Kit cried. Robby wrapped her up in his arms, kissing her head.

“You are not your mother. You’re not. We’re going to get through this. You just need some help. We’ll figure this out.” He promised and Kit sobbed, her hands clawing at his shirt, desperate for escape.

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry!” her voice was raw. She wasn’t sure who she was apologizing to at this point. Maybe Robby, maybe the baby or perhaps herself.

“Shhh. You’re okay. You don’t need to apologize.” Robby held her tight to his chest. “Let’s go to bed. You need some sleep.” He pulled her to her feet, guiding her back to their bed. Her emotions taking their toll caused her to pass out the second her head hit the pillow.

Robby sat up all night looking up the best ways to help and the best therapists in Pittsburgh. He sent emails, pulling on every favor owed to him to get her in somewhere.

Dr. Robinavitch,

I’m sorry to hear of your wife’s struggles. This is very common and, unfortunately, rarely discussed. I want to ease some potential grief that you’re feeling and let you know that it’s hard to differentiate the signs of postpartum from exhaustion; you didn’t miss anything.

I would be more than willing to see Katherine this week. I understand the urgency this case has for you. I have personally dealt with postpartum myself and can understand how quickly it can escalate. If she is willing to come on Thursday, I have an opening at 1pm. I will tentatively schedule it for her.

Please let her know that this isn’t a failure or defect in her. That’s the most important thing you can do for her.

Sincerely,

Dr. Joanna Groff.

The morning light was harsh, unwelcome this morning. It felt nagging. Kit rolled over to find the bed empty. She groaned as she got up, her tits hurt, her head hurt, her body ached. She thought she would start to feel better once Abby was born, but she felt worse than ever.

She walked to the nursery, pulling her robe close to her to fight the cool air. She stood in the doorway, watching Robby hold their daughter. His big arms enveloped her tiny body. She looked so small in his embrace.

“Mama is so good to you. We just need to help her a little. We’re going to take care of her just like she takes care of us.” He hummed to the baby, bringing her close and kissing her soft hair.

Kit’s chest tightened and twisted. She felt so much from those words. She wanted to revel in the beauty of them. She wanted to be comforted by his care. But she couldn’t fight the feeling of failure. She couldn’t stop her mind from spiraling and her mother’s words ringing in her head.

“You think you can do better? Please! You’re no better than me, you’re just like me.”

She couldn’t stifle the sob. It echoed into the nursery. Robby whipped around, surprised to see her and the tears streaming down her face. He put the baby down and gathered her up in his arms.

“You’re okay.” He murmured into her hair.

“I’m just like her.” She whispered.

“Nope, not even a little. Come here,” Robby pulled her to the living room and sat her on the couch. He knelt in front of her, holding her face in his hands.

“She told me that I was no better than her, the day Abby was born. I fought her, but maybe she was right.” Kit shook her head.

“No, she’s never been right about you. Kitty, you are so much more than your mother could ever be.” Robby brushed the tears from her cheeks.

“I know you think you’re failing right now, but you’re not. Your mother would never be this upset; she wouldn’t care the way you do. You care so much, it’s too much for you right now. That’s okay. I’m not letting you drown.” He told her, holding her shaking hands in his.

“What if I can’t get out of this?” She couldn’t look at him.

“I’m not letting that happen. I pulled some favors, I got you in with Dr. Groff. She’s the best in the state. She’s gone through this too, she’s going to help us. I’m getting you whatever you need, okay?”

“Okay. Okay.” She shook her head; her body couldn’t stop shaking.

“I love you so much.” He wrapped her up in his arms, Kit clung on to him for dear life.

Kit hadn’t realized it until she was in the parking lot of Dr. Groff’s office, but that was the first time she had left the house for herself since Abby was born. The world felt foreign, scarier. Her hands shook as she opened the car door and made her way inside.

“Hello, how can I help you?” The receptionist’s bright smile didn’t help Kit’s nerves.

“I have an appointment at 1 pm with Dr. Groff. Should be under Robinavitch.” She cleared her throat.

“Of Course. She’s finishing up with her last appointment. I’ll let you know when she’s ready.” Kit nodded and sat in the plastic cushioned chair. The waiting room was sterile. The pictures on the wall were stock photos of plants. The magazines on the side table taunted her with headlines like; How to relearn self-love, 6 ways to a happier mindset, You steer the ship: how to take control of your decisions.

“Mrs. Robinavitch, she’s ready.” The Receptionist smiled. She got up and walked into the office. She was shocked to see how different Dr. Groff’s office was from the waiting room. There was a colorful rug on the floor, the furniture was soft and pillowy, and the walls were covered in beautiful art. There was a warmth to it.

“Mrs. Robinavtich, have a seat.” The woman was in her mid-fifties, her dark hair was pulled into a messy bun on top of her head. Her clothes were loose and airy. Her top was an earthy green and her pants a deep maroon. Her glasses sat on the tip of her nose, just above a kind smile.

“It’s Dr. Robinavitch, actually.” Kit cleared her throat as she sat on the couch.

“Oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t realize you were both doctors. I’ll make a note of that in your file.” She nodded as she scribbled something on her notebook.

“It gets confusing. Katherine is fine.” Her body was tense, and she was trying to make herself as small as possible.

“I bet. What is your specialty?”

“EM, like Michael. Same department at PTMC. I just go by Dr. R and he’s Dr. Robby. Still causes some confusion with the med students.”

“Well, it’s not hard to confuse them.” Groff chuckled.

“True.”

“Shall we get down to it?” Groff gave a soft smile, trying to encourage Kit.

“I guess. I’m not sure where to start?” Kit gave a nervous laugh.

“Wherever feels most comfortable for now.”

“Right.” Kit bit at her nails. “I guess, I started having these…thoughts about a week after Abby was born.”

“Abby is your daughter?”

“Yes. Abigail.”

“That’s a nice name. After anyone?”

“Michael’s grandmother. She raised him, it meant a lot to him.”

“What a wonderful memorial. How old is Abby?”

“She’s five weeks.”

“How long is your maternity leave?”

“Eleven weeks. Michael’s paternity leave is only eight.”

“So, he’ll be going back soon. That’s scary.”

“I guess. It’ll be different.”

“Do you want to tell me about your thoughts?”

“Want to? No. But I have to, I think.”

“Why do you have to?”

“Because they’re eating me alive and I feel like Michael just can’t understand. He tries, believe me. He’s a man at the end of the day.”

“What does that mean?”

“Well…he didn’t go through all of it, physically. I had carried her, I was so sick. The worst morning sickness, almost had to be hospitalized. But I never cared. I loved her so much from the moment I found out I was pregnant. Then I went through labor and birth, it was so hard.”

“Was it a traumatic birth?”

“No. Not any more than usual.”

“Can you elaborate on that?”

“All birth is trauma. It’s your insides being ripped apart. It’s your body changing violently against your will. It’s your child being ripped from you. It’s pain and fear and violence and too many emotions.”

“Some women find it to be beautiful. You don’t feel that way?”

“No. I don’t. There were moments during labor, at least. Michael holding me and keeping me safe. It was nice when we talked about the future. But once it reached a point when it was relentless, it wasn’t beautiful.”

“What about when you saw her for the first time?”

“I was scared.”

“Why?”

“Well, she didn’t cry at first. The doctor and nurses had to help her and she wasn’t on my chest like all the other mothers talked about. I thought something was wrong. I couldn’t move to help; I was in so much pain. But I was too scared to move.”

“That would be terrifying. But she was okay.”

“Yeah, it only lasted 20 seconds. They put her in my arms, and she was so beautiful. I loved her so much. But…” Kit couldn’t get the words out.

“It’s okay. Take your time.”

“I’ve never even told Michael this.” Her hands were shaking again.

“I’m not Michael. Everything you say to me stays with me.”

“I know. It’s a lot to say out loud.”

“I think you need to say it out loud.”

“When they put her in my arms, after a minute, I wasn’t interested in her at all. I wanted to push her off of me.” Kit couldn’t stop the sobs. Groff handed her a box of tissues.

“Katherine. It’s normal. Everything you’re feeling is normal.”

“I faked it. Every time someone came in the room, I plastered a smile on my face and pretended like I was beside myself with joy. But I was drowning and couldn’t find the words.”

“We’re going to find the words here, together.”

“I love her. I know I do. But I might hate her too.”

“Why do you think you hate her?”

“She cries and my body just gets so tense it hurts. I hold her and look at her, and half my brain thinks she is so beautiful, and the other half is annoyed at her presence. Sometimes, it’s just disinterest.”

“Katherine, what you’re feeling is just normal emotions. Do you have violent thoughts?”

“No. But…Michael was holding her once, and I thought how much better he was at this than me. How he was going to realize I’m a bad mother and leave, and I’d be relieved.”

“I see.”

“I’m crazy.”

“No one is crazy. You are exceptionally normal, I’m afraid.”

“I get it from my mother.”

“Tell me about your mother?”

“She hates me. She’s told me. She had kids because she thought she had to, not because she wanted to. Every time we talk, she tells me how disappointed in me she is. She doesn’t like my life.”

“How did your mother react when you told her you were pregnant?”

“She laughed at me, told me that I wasn’t mother material.”

“That must have hurt.”

“Yeah, but I’m used to it.”

“What do you do when your mother says these things to you?”

“I tell Michael. He counters her, talks me off the figurative ledge. Most of the time, her words just annoy me. I don’t hold much importance to them.”

“Okay. I want you to try something for me this week. When you have these thoughts that upset you, that feel bad, I want you to tell them to Michael like it’s your mother saying them. Take those thoughts and put them into your mother’s voice. Take the importance away from them, like you do with your mother. Do you think we can try that?”

“I can try.”

“You took a big step today, Katherine. It was a lot, you’re going to be tired. It’s okay. You need rest. Let yourself rest. Be kind to yourself as we figure this out. Healing is not linear; there will be good days and bad days. I want us to meet once a week for now. I’m going to keep this time for you.”

“Okay. Thank you. Thank you.” Kit wiped the tears from her face.

“I’m here if you need me. I’ll see you next week.” Groff smiled.

Kit sat in the driveway for a while. She lost track of time. Her mind felt lighter than it had in weeks, months, even. She took a deep breath before she moved to go into the house.

Michael was cooking, humming to the soft music playing, Abby strapped to his chest. He hadn’t heard her come in yet. She stood in the doorway, letting the sight sink in.

“You look good like that.” She smiled. Michael jumped, looking at her and softening as he saw how relaxed she looked, how she looked more like herself.

“Back at you.” He hummed. Kit walked up behind him, wrapping her arms around him and the baby.

“Thank you.” She kissed his shoulder.

“You don’t have to thank me for doing what’s needed.” He said as he stirred the pasta sauce.

“I know. But some men would have just let me drown. You didn’t. You took care of me, even when I didn’t make it easy.” She buried her face in his back.

“I’ll do whatever you need, Kitty. You are the love of my life. You’re my wife. You and Abby are all that matter.” He turned around and held her face in his hands.

“You’re all that matters.”  She pulled him down into a deep kiss. Abby started fussing between them.

“Valid, we were squishing you. Sorry, Babygirl.” He laughed and kissed her little head.

“After dinner, I need to tell you some things about therapy.”

“Big things?”

“Heavy, yeah.”

“Alright. Food, then feelings.” He kissed her cheek.

[blackwidownat2814]

Dr. Michael 'Robby' Robinavitch can keep me warm anytime bayBEE.

It's snowing.

Michael "Robby" Robinavitch x F!Doctor!Reader

4k || All my content is 18+ MDNI || CW: Mutual pining; it's winter and it snows; background married!girldad!jack; making out; first date sex implied; reader grew up somewhere without snowy winters; brief jealous Robby; we’re pretending you wouldn’t be quite cold and vaguely wet from walking and sitting in the snow (Robby’s keeping you warm, right?); fluff; reader is a trauma surgery attending; no use of y/n or related.

Summary: After a moment together on the roof, Robby asks you out the next time he sees you.

AN: I don't know what this is. I genuinely have no idea where this came from, especially the part about Jack's daughter, and I have no idea how I got there. Heavily debated taking it out. Heavily debated scrapping the entire thing but I kind of liked the dynamic Reader and Robby had going on so I kept it. Written for this request sent in for the 1k celebration! Fluffy. Like all fluff. Thank you so much for reading!!

“You okay?” Robby doesn’t think he’s ever come to the roof and found someone leaning against the guard rail with their head tilted back and a smile on their face. But he finds himself smiling at how incredibly you it is. 

You look over at him. “Yeah, I’m good. Just had a moment and wanted to escape for a second. Do I need to go back down?”

“No, no. You’re good.” He gives you a small smile as he finishes walking towards you and leans against the railing next to you, a respectable distance apart. “You uh,” Robby clears his throat, still a little flustered by you at times. “You settling in okay? Here at the hospital and Pittsburgh in general.”

You’ve been a trauma surgery attending at PTMC for about a month now, came here fresh out of residency. “Yeah,” you nod. “To both. Definitely easier settling in here than the city, but it hasn’t been bad.” You cock your head and smile at him. It knocks the air right out of his lungs. “Thank you for asking.”

“You’re welcome.” He nods and looks around. “Did you know anyone here? Come here with anyone?”

He says that last question a little too casually and you smile to yourself. There’s something between you and Robby for sure. You’re both dancing around it a little bit. But every time you’re together you come a little closer to giving in. 

You shake your head. “Nope. I came here not knowing a single person.” You laugh. “I still don’t know anyone outside the hospital.” 

Robby chuckles with you. “If it makes you feel better I’ve lived here for years and outside of family I barely know anyone outside the hospital. And most of the people I do know outside the hospital I met at the hospital in one way or another.” 

You smile and shrug at him. “Such is the trauma attending life, apparently.” 

“Apparently,” Robby clicks his tongue. “Though Jack met his wife on an airplane. But he was on his way back from a medical conference, that was the only reason he was on the plane, so I’m not sure if that really counts.”

“Well I have that conference I’m going to next week so I’m going to say it does count and keep my eyes peeled for my future husband while getting there and back.” You glance at Robby to gauge his reaction. You thought he might have one but you didn’t expect as much jealousy as you see flash over his face. 

“You should.” It’s clipped and a bit strained as he tries to hide his jealousy. The thought of you even looking at other men irritates him. 

“Hey.” You tap the side of his shoe with yours so he’ll look at you. “I’m kidding. I’m not even flying, Michael. I’m driving down, it’s easier.”  

“Michael?” His eyebrows raise a little as the jealousy melts away. He turns so that he’s facing the guard rail now, rests his forearms on the top bar and bends over. Because his name on your tongue sent blood rushing straight to his cock. “Nobody calls me Michael.”

You hum at him. “I like feeling special.” You tilt your head and study him, a sly grin pulling up on your face. “If you’re okay with me calling you that. I could also call you Robby at work and Michael… elsewhere.” 

Robby lets out a huff laugh that’s strained with desire. He’s almost fully hard now. “Define elsewhere.”

“Oh, you know, the roof, bars when we all go out together, places like that.” You shrug. “And anywhere else I might need to,” you pause and tilt your head just because you enjoy winding him up, “vocalize your name. It’s completely up to you.”

“Michael is fine.” Robby clears his throat again. “Michael is good. Everywhere.”

You giggle softly. You like knowing you have an effect on him. “Michael it is then.” 

Neither of you say anything for a moment, just exist in each other’s presence. And it feels so right. So comfortable. But Robby loves hearing you talk. 

“Is it suddenly getting colder? Or is it just me?” Robby hunches his shoulders and buries his hands deeper into the pockets of his hoodie. 

“No, it is.” You look up at the somewhat overcast sky. It’s nearly dark already. “It’s going to snow soon.”

Robby furrows his brows and tilts his head as he looks at you. “There wasn’t any snow forecasted today.”

“Maybe not.” You take a deep breath in through your nose and let it out slowly. “But you can smell it in the air. Snow’s coming.” 

“You can smell snow coming?” An amused smile pulls onto his face. 

You look back over at him, just as amused. “You can’t?” 

“No, I can’t say that I do.” He shakes his head.

“Take it in.” You breathe in deeply through your nose. “How sharp the air is and how crisp it feels and smells. Remember how it smells right now. I bet you once this storm has passed and we get another snow, if you're outside before it, you’ll be able to smell it.”

“Mhm, okay,” he draws out the words in disbelief. You just roll your eyes at him. You know you’re right and you know now that you’ve drawn his attention to it he’ll be able to recognize it. 

“I find snow so pretty. It’s a pain in the ass most of the time, but I find it incredibly beautiful. Not so much here I’d imagine because it’s a city, but where I used to live for school,” you laugh softly, looking off to the left as you reminisce, “I’d stay up way too late. Like early morning hours of the next day. And we’d have times where we’d get five or six inches dropped overnight. So if you were awake you could go outside and just stand in it. Everything blanketed in white. All of the normal sounds you’d hear dampened by the snow. It would be a time where it should’ve been pitch black outside but it wasn’t. The snow would stop it from getting completely dark with how it reflected all the light. And if it wasn’t windy you could almost hear the snow falling. It was just… beautiful. Surreal in some ways. ”

Robby smiles to himself as he watches you speak, your head leaning back and up towards the sky. He thinks you’re beautiful and surreal.

“And I didn’t grow up where there was snow but I remember always hearing that blizzard sound in Christmas movies, that sound of the wind carrying the snow, you know?” You lick your lips and position them and make it for him. “I always thought it was just a movie sound effect. I’ll never forget opening my front door during a snowstorm to go stand in it for a few moments and hearing that sound for real.”

Robby isn’t sure what to say. Your words and the moment feel so vaguely intimate. You are one of the most interesting people he has ever met. There’s something about you, a kind of mysteriousness you maintain while also being somewhat of an open book. Bewitching, Robby realizes. He’s heard the word, knows what it means and has used it before, though never to describe a person because it always felt like it’d be hollow. But you fit the word perfectly. He feels a little ridiculous using the word to describe you even just in his head, but it’s true. You are. 

You sigh. “But then the sun rises and you’re left being blinded by that same snow and having to shovel it and clear your car and the beauty gets sucked out of it all real fast.” 

Robby laughs. “I wasn’t going to say it, but yeah.” 

You laugh with him, trailing off in a sigh. “We should probably get back to work.” 

Robby nods, glad it’s been long enough that he no longer has an obvious erection. “Probably.”

The two of you walk back to the elevator together. You head to the Pitt with him just to check in and see if anyone needs anything. Nobody does at the moment, but you find yourself back down there about an hour later at the hub with Robby.

“It’s snowing,” Dana comments as she gets back to the hub from taking a quick break outside.  

You look up from the computer you’re at and find Robby already looking at you. You give him a smirking smile and raise your eyebrows at him a little bit. “Well how about that, Dr. Robinavitch?” 

Robby knows more than ever in the moment that he’s so fucked in what he hopes will be the best possible way when it comes to you.

He’s down bad for you. He’s known that all along but something about the roof today and the way you just said his name has changed something. It’s no longer something he can shove aside and tell himself to wait for, to let you settle in more. He watches as you push your chair away from the computer enough to stand up and walk off towards a patient’s room. He doesn’t see you again before he leaves for the night. 

A week and a bit later Robby finds himself up on the roof again towards the end of his shift. But he’s alone this time and he finds himself missing your presence out here with him. He hasn’t seen you since that day on the roof, a combination of your schedules not aligning and you having to go to that trauma conference for a few days.

He’s itching to see you. His phone has been burning a hole in his pocket the entire week and two days. You’d given him your number sometime around the end of your second week here. He’d casually asked Jack one day if Jack had your number, pretending to need to ask you something. Jack saw right through him and informed him that no, you hadn’t given your number to him and, as far as Jack knew, weren’t going around giving it to everyone. Which meant you wanted him to text or call you.  

And he debated texting you. He just wasn’t sure what to say and how to start a conversation because ‘how are you?’ or ‘how’s the conference?’ felt lame. He debated calling too, but again, he wasn’t sure what to say. 

The wind blows as he takes a breath in through his nose and it’s familiar. The feel of it. The scent. It’s the one you said means snow is coming. He smiles to himself at it and nods. That could be something to text you about.

The last hour and a half of Robby’s shift goes by pretty fast and smooth all things considered. He sees Jack come walking in. He doesn’t even have to ask, Jack’s already answering what his question was going to be. 

“It’s snowing.” Jack says as he walks by. “And sticking pretty good. Be careful if you walk home, people are going to be sliding all over the place until they plow.”

Robby smiles and nods, pulling his phone out. “Got it, thanks,” he mumbles to Jack distractedly. Now he knows what to text you. 

R - I smelled the snow coming earlier. You were right. It is possible to smell the snow coming. 

Robby has time to run the board with Jack and hand off before you reply. He’s standing at the now empty hub when your message comes in.

You - I know ;) 

You watch Robby smile at his phone as he gets your text. You had swung by the hospital to drop a few things off and decided to go find him once you got his text. With his back to you it’s easy to sneak up right behind him. “I usually am.” 

“Jesus fucking christ!” Robby startles. He turns around and the sight of you in a pair of jeans and a pullover hoodie keeps his heart rate from starting to return to normal. You look good in scrubs of course, but Robby has never seen you in anything but them. And for whatever reason you in jeans and a pullover hoodie is really fucking doing it for him. He can easily imagine it being one of his hoodies.  

“Not quite,” you giggle. The sound makes his heart race even faster. “Hi.”

“Hi. I missed you this week.” He smiles at you and now your heart is racing too. “How are you? How was the conference?” He pauses and cocks his head, looks like he’s going to say more so you wait to answer. He’s missed you. He’s off now. And you happen to be here, you sought him out. So fuck it. “Actually you know what, no, don’t answer either of those yet.”

“Okay.” You eye him quizzically. “And I missed you too.”

“Let me take you to dinner right now,” he offers, tries to make it sound casual and not like he thinks a little piece of him will die if you say no. “To make up for doubting you. You can tell me how you are and how the conference was there.”

“To make up for doubting me or because you want to date me, Michael?” You smirk.

“Both,” he admits.

You laugh softly and nod. “I’d really like that.” 

“Great!” Robby smiles widely at you and you bite your lip at how cute it is. “Do you mind waiting here while I go grab my stuff?”

“I mind so much, actually,” you tease. “Why can’t I come with you? If I stand here Jack’s liable to pull me into a case.”

He rolls his eyes at you playfully. “Alright, come on.” 

You follow Robby to his locker and wait with him while he gathers everything.

“You have gloves?” Robby asks as he pulls his from his backpack. 

You shake your head. “I’ll be-”

“Take mine.” He holds them out for you.

“Michael.”

“Just, take them.” 

You grab one of the gloves from him and put it on. “Put that one on,” you tell him. He goes to argue but you press a gloveless finger to his lips. “Trust me. Put it on.” He eyes you a little suspiciously but does as you ask. “You ready? Know where you’re taking me?” you ask as the two of you begin walking out. 

“Oh yeah,” he nods, giving you a smirk-tinged smile, “I know the perfect place.” 

You raise your eyebrows at him. “I’m intrigued.” 

Once the two of you step outside and start walking side by side you grab Robby’s gloveless hand with your gloveless hand, lace your fingers together and then pull your hands into the kangaroo pocket of your hoodie. “See? Now both of us have two warm hands.”

“Very smart,” he smiles at you and nods, brown eyes sparkling. 

You squeeze his hand. “Lead the way, Michael.”

The restaurant Robby picked was perfect. It was casual enough that what you both were wearing was acceptable but still nice enough to have a secluded booth and not be too loud so that you could talk. After you finish you start walking towards your place but get sidetracked by a park, end up wandering through it and clearing a bench to sit on. 

“I like this big and fluffy kind of snow.” You hold out your gloved hand and catch a little bit of it as it falls and look at it. “There’s something so beautiful about it. Enchanting.” 

“Yes there is,” Robby murmurs as he looks at you and not the snow. He squeezes your hand. 

You look over at him with a shy smile. Sometimes you know you can be too much. Bring too much whimsy, or so you’ve been told. “Sorry, I know I can get weird. Believe me I’ve been told before.”

Robby shakes his head. “Nothing about you is weird. I love that you see the beauty in it. It’s a good reminder to slow down and really look at the world.”

“Yeah, okay.” You bump your shoulder into his and look back out at the park. 

“Hey.” Robby bumps your shoulder back to get your attention. “I mean it. I like you just how you are. I don’t want you to quiet parts of yourself because you think you’ll be too much for me.”

“Okay,” you say softly and nod. 

Robby looks around what little of the park is visible in the night trying to think of snow related things you might not have done. There’s probably 2 or 3 inches on the ground by now. “You ever made snow angels?” 

“Sure have,” you nod, smiling at him. 

“Made a snowman?” He cocks his head at you. 

“I haven’t, actually, no.” There’s theoretically enough snow on the ground to make one, but it would have to be a pretty small one unless you guys wanted to be pushing the snow around and you each only have one gloved hand. 

“Well there we go,” Robby smiles. “Do you want to build a snowman?”

“I think we might have some logistical challenges doing that, Anna,” you giggle. Robby raises his eyebrows at you and shakes his head. You click your tongue and drop your jaw in fake disbelief. “How have you never seen Frozen?”

“Honey.” Robby gives you a look. “Why would I have seen Frozen?”

The pet name he doesn’t realize he let slip doesn’t escape your notice. “Your niece?” You raise your eyebrows at him when he shakes his head. “Jack’s daughter hasn’t made you watch it with her before?”  

“Nope.” He pops the p. 

“Alright, fair enough.” You smile to yourself. “I’d give a lot to see you and Jack watch Moana with her. You’d both cry.”

Robby scoffs at that playfully. “We would not.” 

“You would, but okay,” you laugh. “I’ll remember this conversation.” 

“I’m sure you will,” he sighs teasingly. 

“And she’ll be a good age once we’ve had enough time. She’ll be able to sit through it with you guys, snuggle on your laps. Question you. ‘Why are you crying Daddy?’ ‘Why are you crying uncle Robby?’” You squeeze his hand as you smile over at him. “It’ll be very cute.” 

He rolls his eyes at you affectionately. “Yeah, we’ll see.” Robby looks around the park trying to think of other snow related things. He’s not sure this is really a snow thing but it is a thing he’s been wanting to do for over a month now. “Ever been kissed in a park at night under only the light of the park lamp while the big fluffy snow falls down around you?” 

You give him that shy smile again. “Can’t say that I have.”

“You wanna be?” His eyes slowly move down to your lips and then back up. 

“Yeah,” you breathe.

Robby lets go of your gloveless hand and pulls it from your pocket, standing and holding it out for you. You take it and he helps you up. Both of you feel ridiculous and like teenagers about to get their first kiss all over again, butterflies in your stomachs and hearts racing. 

His gloveless hand holds your face, thumb brushing over your cheekbone as his other arm wraps around your waist and pulls you closer. You thread your arms around his neck, tilt your head and lean in as he leans down and uses his hand to guide your face to his, both of your eyes fluttering closed before your lips finally meet. 

The first kiss is technically short and gentle, testing the waters. But with the sounds both of you make at the cliché spark that shoots through both of you it quickly leads to a second more intense kiss that blends into making out in the yellow glow of the park lamp with the snow falling down around you. Robby’s mouth is possessive and hot against yours as he slides his tongue in your mouth, groaning at the taste of you mixed with the dessert you’d shared at dinner.

You pull apart just enough to see each other once the need for oxygen becomes too great. Visible, hot puffs of air surround your faces as you each pant softly in the aftermath.

“Wow,” you laugh a little breathlessly. “You can really kiss Robinavitch.”

“Don’t sound so surprised.” His gloved hand squeezes your waist as best it can as he gives you a fake chiding look. 

“No, no I’m not, I promise.” “I just… I’m not sure I’ve ever been kissed like that.” You can see the surge of pride that your words send through him, haughty smile gracing his face. “Maybe it’s the snow,” you tease. 

“Yeah, maybe. Guess we’ll have to find out.” Robby chuckles as he sits back down and pulls you onto his lap, lets you take his hand back into your pocket. It’s getting late and even colder. He really should get you back to your place, he just doesn’t want the night to end. 

“What did you mean earlier?” He nuzzles his nose against your cheek for a second and then kisses it, lets his lips and beard tickle you a little as he speaks. “When you said Jack’s daughter will be a good age once we’ve had enough time?” 

“Oh, I meant like us being together long enough for it to be appropriate for me to meet the family.” You nuzzle your nose against his before pulling away so you can see him. “I know Jack, but it’s different outside of work and obviously I don’t know his wife or daughter.” 

Robby laughs softly. “Oh, I think if you asked Jack or his wife you’d find we’ve already had enough time for it to be appropriate for you to meet them.” You laugh with him and steal another kiss. “But I like that you’re thinking about the future,” he teases. 

You smirk at him. “You’re the one that called me Honey already. So I’d say you’re finding things just as serious.”

“I did not!” You watch as he replays your conversation in his head. “Oh shit I did.”

You see him start to apologize but cut him off. “Don’t apologize. I liked it. But maybe wait a bit before you go introducing me to family, yeah? Abbot family or otherwise.”

“Why?”

You shrug. “What if you get tired of me? Or what if you end up hating me? What if I’m terrible in bed and there’s just nothing there? What if I get too whimsical for you?”

“None of that is going to happen.” Robby shakes his head emphatically. “I can’t even explain how much none of that’s going to happen.”

“Never know.” You cock your head at him.

“No, I know. I very much know.” There’s a pause as he debates how forward to be. He decides to just go for it and gives you a little pout. “Kinda bummed it’s going to take a few dates for me to be able to show you just how bullshit that third question is, I won’t lie.”

“I never said that. And don’t pout,” you laugh, leaning in and kissing his pout away before growing a little more serious. “Okay, I genuinely have never had sex on the first date before, but, when we got to my door I was going to suggest that if you aren’t too tired you come inside with me and we can warm up and show each other just how much we missed each other this last week.” 

You watch Robby’s brown eyes get darker as he swallows hard. “I have never been less tired in my life, Honey.” He’s immediately patting your thigh to signal you to get up and you do. 

You giggle at him as the two of you start walking towards your place. “Liar.”

“Oh, I’m not,” Robby shakes his head, “I can’t speak for how tired I will or won’t be after, but right now? Wide a-fuckin-wake.”

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[hagarsays]

First look at Robby and Dr. Shen

Season two has officially started filming

[mercvry-glow]

Stop making this hurt

parings. jack abbot x doctor!reader

summary. jack knew he didn’t want to go to pitt fest, instead suggesting you take a few of your girl friends on your day off. little does he know that decision leads to you experiencing the worst day of your life without him.

warnings. pitt fest incident, guns/shootings, hospital setting, blood and gore, reader gets hurt, death (not reader), medical inaccuracies and not show accurate but i tried my best, jack and robby are stressed af, let me know if there's anything else!

notes. finally my first pitt fest fic, hopefully this is angsty enough for ya'll and pleases all of my anons who asked for this! I love all of you, thank you for almost 300 followers and as always any and all feedback is appreciated!

wc. 3600+

You knew it was a long shot trying to convince Jack to come with you to Pitt-Fest.

Crowds were never his thing, not even before his time as an Army medic. Too loud, too many moving parts, too unpredictable. Add a decade of trauma medicine on top of that, and the thought of shoulder-to-shoulder festival traffic was enough to make him visibly tense. You didn’t blame him — not even a little.

And as much as you loved your husband, you weren’t going to fight him on this one.

“Go have fun,” he’d told you that morning, standing in the doorway in his usual worn t-shirt and sweats, a coffee mug in one hand and the other wrapped around your waist. “Text me when you get there. And text me again when you leave. And maybe don’t lose your phone this time?”

You’d rolled your eyes, kissed him once, then twice — and promised to behave.

Truly, it was better for him to spend his one of his days off actually resting, not galavanting around the venue with you and your friends, half-drunk on overpriced cider and yelling about pierogi trucks.

So you let yourself enjoy it. The chaos, the music, the warm breeze coming off the river. You danced with your friends in the middle of the concert to some college band playing covers too fast. You tasted six different kinds of barbecue and took a picture with a guy dressed like a giant bottle of Heinz ketchup. And every couple hours, your phone buzzed with a little check-in from Jack — usually short, always a little dry since he wasn’t a big texter.

JACKY [1:14 PM] You hydrated today or just vibes?

JACKY [3:06 PM] Hope the pierogi truck is worth the foot traffic.

JACKY [4:11 PM] Home if you need me. 

You were smiling at that last one about to respond around 5pm, standing in line for boozy lemon slushies with Emma and a few others, when it happened.

At first, it was just a sound — one that didn’t register immediately. A sharp crack in the distance. Then another. Then screaming.

The crowd surged before your brain caught up. Someone dropped their drink. Someone else shoved you sideways. Your phone slipped out of your hand and hit the pavement.

“Is that—” Emma started to say, eyes wide.

You grabbed her wrist and pulled. “Run.”

You didn’t know where the shots had come from. You didn’t stop to look. You just moved — through the panicked chaos, toward the edge of the crowd, ducking behind a food truck with a group of strangers just as another round cracked the air like lightning.

Your chest was tight. Ears ringing. People were yelling. Crying. Calling for help. And your phone—your phone was still on the street.

Jack.

You couldn’t call him.

But he’d know. You didn’t know how, you just knew.

And however a mile away, as police scanners lit up and trauma alerts pinged on hospital radios, Jack was already on his feet — keys in hand, work boots half tied—and heart racing faster than he’d felt since he returned to US soil.

He didn’t wait for a callback. Didn’t care that he wasn’t on the schedule. He grabbed his badge and his trauma bag and was in the truck before the next dispatcher finished her second sentence.

Because something had happened at Pitt-Fest.

And you were there.

It really sounded like a firecracker at first — maybe someone messing around near the alley that ran behind the Pitt-Fest booths. But then came the second, then the third. Screaming followed.

You turned your head just in time to see another wave of people running. And then—

“EMMA!!”

She was beside you one second, and the next, she was down.

You didn’t think. You couldn’t think. You just dropped to your knees, catching her head before it hit the pavement, your mind going a mile a minute.

“Hey, hey—Em—look at me,” you said, your voice louder than you realized. “Where were you hit?”

Her mouth opened, but no sound came out. Her hands were pressed to her stomach, blood already soaking through her shirt and fingers.

“Fuck,” you hissed. “Okay. Okay, pressure. Emmy, stay with me. You’re gonna be okay.”

You barely noticed the searing pain until your legs buckled and you were on your side. A sharp, ripping sensation tore through your ribs like glass.

Shot. 

You had been shot too.

Someone was shouting. A vendor nearby had flipped a table and was screaming for people to duck. A stranger—a kid, maybe barely twenty not much younger than you—ran toward you both through the chaos, eyes wide.

“Are you hurt? I have a truck—”

“Help us—please!” you said, trying to sit up, trying not to black out. “I’m a doctor—ER. Trauma. She needs a hospital now.”

He nodded, panicked, glancing at the blood now pooling on the concrete. “We’re like five blocks from PTMC—I’ll drive!”

You helped haul Emma up with shaking arms, biting back a cry when your chest screamed in protest. She groaned as you dragged her toward the curb, her weight nearly toppling you.

The kid had his pickup pulled up half on the sidewalk within seconds.

“Put her in the bed!” you ordered. “It’ll be faster to lift her in!”

Someone else joined—another panicked bystande —helping you hoist Emma into the truck bed as gently and as quickly as possible. You climbed in after her, teeth gritted, your once cute outfit sticky with blood.

“Go!” you screamed as the tailgate slammed shut behind you.

The engine roared and the truck peeled off, tires screeching. You barely held on, your legs braced against the wheel well, one arm clamped across Emma’s wound, the other pressing against your own side to slow the bleeding.

“You’re okay,” you told her, voice tight, even though you weren’t sure who you were trying to convince. “Emma, you’re gonna make it. You’re not fucking dying at Pitt-Fest! I won’t let you.”

Her eyes fluttered, and you cursed under your breath, checking her pulse. 

Thready. Too fast.

You knew you had minutes. Maybe less.

And somewhere in the back of your mind, you knew Jack was at the Pitt. On shift or not, he was always there when it mattered.

He had no idea you were on your way. Or that you were bleeding out in the back of a stranger’s truck, racing through downtown Pittsburgh.

But if you made it… if you could just hold on a little longer…

You’d see him again.

The truck rattled like it was going to fall apart with every pothole it hit on Carson Street. The shocks weren’t built for this kind of weight or speed, and the stranger behind the wheel didn’t care. He’d barely said a word since he’d skidded to a stop at the edge of the chaos. Now, you could barely hold your head up.

Emma was curled in on herself across from you, clutching the side of the truck bed like it was the only thing keeping her tethered to earth. Her glitter jacket was soaked through—Msot of it hers, some of it not—and her ponytail had come loose, curls hanging limp against her face.

You turned your head toward her, everything in you aching.

“Em,” you rasped.

She didn’t answer.

“Emma, look at me.”

She did, finally. Her lip was split, her eyes glassy. She was holding her side with one hand, the other shaking where it pressed against her stomach. Blood oozed through her fingers.

“Hurts,” she whispered.

“I know.” You reached out, hand slick and trembling. You were starting to feel lightheaded, the pain in your side sharp and spreading, warm and wet and endless. “You’re okay. You’re gonna be okay. We’re almost there.”

She nodded—but then her gaze dropped to your side, and her eyes widened. “Babe… you're—”

“Don’t look at me.” Your voice cracked, barely above a whisper. “Just breathe, Em. You’re okay. I’ve got you.”

You weren’t sure if that was true. The blood loss was getting worse. Your top was drenched. The bullet had torn low, near your hip, and every bump in the road sent fresh agony lancing through your whole body. You tried to apply pressure but your arm wouldn’t stop shaking.

The guy driving honked again, swerving around a city bus. Ahead, PTMC’s trauma bay came into view, the red trauma flags flapping against the gray building. Almost there. Almost safe.

Then Emma made a sound that shattered you.

It was small. Wet. A choking breath followed by nothing.

You lurched forward, dragging yourself toward her with everything you had left. 

“Emma—Emmy. Stay awake. Look at me.”

Her head lolled. Her eyes were still open, just barely. “I’m really cold,” she whispered.

“No, baby. No, you’re not.” You gathered her into your lap, tried to shield her with what strength you had left. “We’re here. You’re okay.”

The truck hit the curb at full speed, rocking the bed. The brakes screamed as it slid sideways, stopping half a second before it would’ve crashed into the wall of the trauma bay. And then hands—at least half a dozen of them—were yanking open the tailgate.

Chaos.

“Two critical GSWs in the back—Jesus, they’re both going out!”

“She’s losing consciousness!”

“Someone help me get her—”

“She’s coding!”

You heard all of it like you were underwater. You were vaguely aware of someone pulling Emma from your limp arms. Someone else catching you as your head dropped back, limp, blood seeping down your spine.

A nurse’s voice rang out as she tried to open your airway.

“Who is she—anyone got a name?!”

No one answered.

Inside the trauma bay, Jack was elbow-deep in yet another chest wound, barking orders, adrenaline humming through his veins. He didn’t hear the commotion at the ambulance bay over the noise of suction and a flatline monitor. Didn’t look up when the bay doors slammed open again.

Didn’t know.

Didn’t know that somewhere down the hall, two trauma rooms were opening side by side—one for your best friend who wouldn’t make it, and one for you, his wife, who just might.

Not yet.

But he would.

He always did.

Now rushing inside to the hub, “Her BP’s eighty systolic and dropping—she’s hemorrhaging fast.”

“Pulse is thready. Pupils sluggish.”

“Get Dr. Robby in here, now!”

The trauma bay was already spinning into motion when Michael stepped through the sliding doors, hand dragging down over his messy brown hair. He was halfway into his  new trauma gown as he crossed the room.

“What’ve we got?”

“GSW to the lower abdomen. Entry left, possible exit—can’t tell through the bleeding. She was brought in non-EMS, unknown downtime.”

Robinavitch’s eyes tracked the chaos instantly, sharp and assessing. He reached the foot of the bed and froze just long enough to squint at your face beneath the mask of blood, dirt, and bruises. Something flickered across his expression.

“…Is that—?”

“Yeah,” one of the nurses whispered. “That’s our second Abbot.”

He didn’t react. Not outwardly. Just snapped his gloves tighter and stepped in, voice calm but commanding.

“Alright. Let’s move. I need two large-bore IVs, type and cross, four units O-neg hanging yesterday, and someone page trauma surgery—now.”

A nurse slid a face shield over his head as he pulled the curtain closed behind him.

“Pressure dressing’s soaked through.”

“She’s crashing, Dr. Robby.”

Michael leaned in over your body, catching the faintest movement of your chest. He knew your voice, your laugh, the way you snapped off one-liners at Jack and him in the hall. And right now, none of that mattered. You were just another patient bleeding out on his table. And he was going to keep you alive.

“Hang another liter. Let’s get a FAST scan going—we need to find that bleed.”

A tech slid gel across your abdomen. The screen flared to life, the grainy black-and-white image revealing what they were dreading.

“She’s bleeding into her abdomen,” someone said.

“No kidding,” Robby muttered. Then louder: “Alright. We don’t have time. Prep her straight for the OR. I want her there five minutes ago.”

He pressed down on the wound with both hands, hard. Princess to his left winced.

“She should seee Jack,” she whispered.

“No,” he said firmly. “Jack needs her to still be breathing when he finds out.”

He looked down at you, your face pale and growing colder beneath his fingers.

“You hang on,” he said under his breath. “You do not die on me. He will never recover.”

You didn’t respond. Your eyes fluttered once, lips barely parted. A sound escaped, too soft to decipher as Mikey leaned closer. 

Not as a doctor now, but as a close friend. 

“What was that?”

Your mouth twitched. “Tell… Jack…”

But then your body jolted under his hands—heart monitor screaming into v-fib.

“Code!” someone shouted.

“Start compressions!” Robinavitch was already moving, calling for paddles. “One of you get Abbot!”

“But he’s still in Pink—”

“I don’t care if he’s in surgery or nott,” he snapped. “Tell him it’s his wife. Tell him she’s coding.”

Across the hospital floor, Jack looked up—something in his chest going cold before he even knew why.

The Pink Zone was chaos, and Red was a shit show. 

Jack had blood smeared to his elbows and the kind of tension in his jaw that only came from running full tilt on no sleep. His short, curls—streaked at the temples with silver—were plastered to his forehead with sweat. His hazel eyes, usually sharp and quick, were laser-focused on the wound in front of him.

“Clamp—now,” he barked, voice low and lethal.

The security guard on the table had been fine for the minute, eventually turning critical. Shrapnel to the chest. He’d already coded once in triage. Jack had cracked him open right there on the gurney, and there was no room in his world for anything else.

Until—

“Dr. Abbot!”

He didn’t look up. “Hold pressure!.”

“Jack!”

That voice. Too familiar.

He finally looked.

One of the new night shift  interns stood just inside the trauma bay doors, Jacob’s own scrubs stained and his expression wrecked. And he never looked wrecked.

Jack straightened, adrenaline still coursing, brow furrowed. “What?”

Jacob’s mouth opened—but nothing came out at first. He took a breath. Another. Then:

“She’s here. Your wife.”

The words didn’t land right at first. Jack blinked, frowning, like he hadn’t heard correctly.

“She what?”

“Gunshot wound to the abdomen. Came in the fourth or fifth wave from Pitt-Fest,” the young man said, voice tight. “They stabilized her. She was hypotensive on arrival. Tachy. Someone named Emma was with her—they were in the back of a civilian truck.”

The name Emma barely registered.

Jack’s pulse went sideways.

“She coded once—Robby sent her to the OR.”

“No,” Jack said, too fast, shaking his head. “No, she wasn’t even—she said she’d text me when—she wasn’t—”

The air felt thick. Too heavy. Too loud. His fingers curled into fists, shaking beneath his gloves.

“Dr. Abbot,” Someone said, stepping closer. “She’s still alive. They got her back. But you can’t leave right now. We need you here.”

Jack didn’t move.

“She asked for you,” Jacobs added quietly.

That broke something open.

Jack’s hazel eyes—usually unreadable—flashed wide. For half a second, pure panic. He turned, looking toward the hall that led to the elevators, toward OR.

But he couldn’t go. He knew it. The man on the table in front of him was dying.

And his wife… his wife was being cut open upstairs.

He squeezed his eyes shut once, breathing like it physically hurt. When he opened them, they were steely again. Grounded by sheer force of will.

“Tell Robinavitch to get me when she’s out,” Jack said. His voice was barely steady. “And tell him if she crashes again—he calls me. Immediately.”

“I will,” Jacob promised.

Jack didn’t answer. He just turned back to his patient like his spine was made of iron. Like his heart wasn’t bleeding under his ribs.

But his hands trembled—just once—before they found the scalpel again.

And he didn’t say another word about it, because what was there to say you could be gone before he even got to see you. 

Eventually the world returned in fragments.

A slow, stuttering beep. The soft rustle of hospital sheets. The sterile hum of fluorescent lighting. Everything hurt—but not sharply. Not like it had. Now it was dull and heavy, like your body was made of stone, barely yours.

You blinked against the overhead light. It took effort. Your limbs felt like they were filled with sand.

A shape moved beside you.

Jack.

He was hunched forward in the chair, elbows braced on his knees, hands clasped tight. His short, silvery curls were flattened on one side, sticking up in the back like he hadn’t moved in hours. His hazel eyes were fixed on the floor, red-rimmed, dark and distant.

Your heart monitor ticked just a little faster. He looked up immediately.

“Hey,” he breathed, already at your side.

You tried to smile, but your lips barely moved. “Hi.”

Jack let out a sound halfway between a laugh and a sob and reached for your hand. His touch was careful, reverent. “You scared the absolute hell out of me.”

“Me too,” you rasped.

He gave you a sip of water, helping steady the cup as you drank. When you pulled back, your throat still felt raw—but the words came anyway.

“Emma?”

Jack’s face changed.

The crack in his expression wasn’t obvious, but you’d seen it before—on the battlefiel, in different red zone code blues, in the quiet moments after a loss. He didn’t answer right away.

You already knew.

“…She didn’t make it,” he said softly. “They couldn’t even try. She was gone in the truck.”

Your breath hitched.

“She was getting married,” you whispered, tears already brimming. “She was twenty-eight, Jack...”

“I know.”

“She was going to try out for th-that promotion. She just bought her wedding dress last week—she wanted to show you, and—and she was finally gonna ask David to move in with—”

Jack didn’t try to stop your rambling grief. He just leaned in closer, resting his forehead against yours.

“I know,” he said again, voice thick. “I’m so sorry.”

You swallowed hard, your throat burning. “She died in my arms...”

His hand tightened around yours.

“I didn’t know it was you,” he murmured, guilt and grief bleeding into his voice. “I was a couple zones over. We were shoulder to shoulder with victims. I didn’t know until after they took you up to surge.”

You blinked fast. “Were you there when I came in?”

“Robby got you stable. Barely. Everyone just said it was bad. Said  one of ours went down.” His voice caught. 

“Jack.”

“I couldn’t go up,” he whispered. “They were still bringing bodies in. And you were already in surgery. I had to keep working.”

Your vision blurred again.

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be, you’re the one that got shot.” His hazel eyes were fierce now, even through the exhaustion. “You did everything you could. You kept Emma safe as long as you could. And you lived. That’s all that matters right now.”

You didn’t feel like it should be enough. Not with her gone, and the fate of the rest of your friends unknown. But the way Jack looked at you—like the entire world had stopped spinning until your heart started beating again—it made the pain settle differently.

He reached up and brushed your hair back, his touch gentle. “I’ve got you now. You’re safe.”

Since the first shots rang out at Pitt-Fest, you let yourself feel the weight of everything that had happened. 

Your fingers twitched under his, slow and aching, but deliberate. Jack noticed immediately, shifting to cradle your hand in both of his, as if he could anchor you there by touch alone.

“I love you,” you whispered, your voice shaky but sure. “Thank you for staying with me…”

Jack’s eyes closed, lashes trembling. His head bowed as his grip on your hand tightened, pulling it gently to his chest.

“I’d stay a thousand times,” he murmured. “I’d go through hell a thousand times if it meant getting you back.”

Your heart thudded painfully in your chest—because you believed him. There was no part of Jack Abbot that ever did anything halfway, least of all when it came to you.

“I thought I was going to die,” you whispered, barely able to get the words out. “In that truck. I-I knew Emma  was gone and—I couldn’t feel my legs. Everything hurt. I didn’t know if you’d even know…”

Jack leaned forward again, resting his forehead against your hands, breathing you in like he was trying to convince himself you were real. “I know now,” he said, voice rough. “And I’ve got you.”

You could feel the warmth of his breath on your cheek, the way his body trembled just slightly with the force of holding himself together.

“I kept thinking—‘he’s gonna be mad,’” you whispered. “Because I went without you. Because I didn’t duck fast enough. Because I let one of the girls get hit.”

“Stop,” he said, voice firm but thick with emotion. “You don’t need to carry that. Not even for a second.”

You nodded faintly, tears sliding into your hair. “She died, Jack. Emma died. And I couldn’t save her.”

He stayed quiet for a beat, then moved to press a kiss to your forehead, lingering there, like he could pour every unspoken word straight into your skin.

“I know,” he whispered. “And I’ll carry that with you. Every single day.” The monitors continued their slow, steady rhythm. Jack stayed at your bedside like he’d never leave it again.

Outside, the world kept spinning—grief, news headlines, recovery, chaos—but inside that quiet room, wrapped in his presence, you finally let yourself rest. Because you weren’t alone. Not anymore.

And you knew, in the deepest part of yourself, that Jack would keep holding on enough for the both of you—because that’s the type of man he was. 

mercury-glow 2025

[randompiecesofwriting]

Coffee Snob

Summary: Robby meets his neighbor in the middle of the night on the rooftop of his apartment building, quickly establishing a relationship he wasn’t fully expecting and finding it to be more serious than originally thought when she shows up in his ER a few days later

Pairing: Michael “Robby” Robinavitch x Reader

Word Count: 4.3k

Warnings: Reader gets stitches but process isn’t described at all, Author has absolutely no medical knowledge, Robby’s a worrywart

Author’s Note: Thank you everyone who read my Jack fic Wrong Name! It got way more love an attention than I ever thought it would and that means the absolute world to me! This is my first Robby fic so of course let me know what you think and I hope you like it!

Part 2

There was a man in your spot.

You’ve been up here nearly every night for the past few months and never had there been a man in your spot.

Usually you crave the silence this spot gave you, the peace of nighttime, the calm connectivity of the city below you. A man in your spot threatened to burst that bubble.

But seeing this man, in his fraying hoodie, with his legs dangling over the edge, drinking a beer, didn’t bring you any bitterness or disappointment. Rather you felt strangely calm.

Before you could fully process what you were doing you gave the handle to the roof access door a little jiggle and kicked the rocks beneath your feet softly, letting him know you were here before calling out “You know I’m not an expert but I’m pretty sure heights and alcohol don’t mix well”

He pivoted around slowly, your loud entrance having the desired effect of warning him of your arrival rather than startling him.

Soft brown eyes connected with yours in silence for a moment, you taking the opportunity to see just how downtrodden the man before you looked before his eyes flickered down to your hands, noting the beer that dangled from your fingers with a quiet huff “not an expert huh”

“Not an expert” you confirmed, taking a slow step forward “I practice this as an amateur”

He snorted under his breath at that. Turning back to the city before him, you taking that as a silent invitation to join him, planting yourself just far enough away to avoid making it awkward. “You know that’s my spot”

At that a dejected chuckle came out of him, an acknowledgement of an inside joke you weren’t apart of before shaking his head “not an expert but you have a spot”

“Never said I usually drink up here” you tossed the comment out as you twisted the top off your drink, giving his abandoned can next to him a toast before taking a swig.

The silence blanketed the two of you for a moment, somehow avoiding ever being oppressive or awkward, before he broke it “usually my spot’s at work”

“ahhh” you hummed, watching the lights of the city below you “so you’re the expert here then”

He laughed at that, a big sigh coming out of him as his shoulders finally fell slightly “never said I usually drink up there”

You let your eyes drift over his form for a second, taking the time to finally properly appreciate the man beside you “Honestly I kind of hope not, you strike me as someone with a job I wouldn’t want alcohol mixed with”

Another chuckle left the man, his chin tucking down into his chest as if to hide it “What gave that away, the scrubs?”

You smiled mischievously at him from behind the lip of your bottle, taking the time to take another swig, letting the silence between the two of you settle a bit before speaking “since you’re not offering the information that mean I get to guess?”

A deep breath left him as he looked you over for a second, clearly debating how much further he really wanted to venture into this conversation before answering with a shrug “give it your best shot”

You shifted slightly to better face him, picking your knee up and brining it onto the rooftop with you to fully look at the man before you, giving a dramatic hum before answering “Well the rooftop viewing is hinting at you being a bit of an adrenaline junkie, posture screams that you carry the weight of the world on your shoulders, eyes tell me you’ve seen far too much tragedy in your time, dark scrubs to hide bodily fluid stains” you scrunched your nose up slightly at that,  pointedly ignoring the man’s startled gaze as you continued “and finally zip-up hoodie to help you contend with both inside and outside temperatures when necessary. I’m going to go with ER doc”

You tried to bite back your shit eating grin as the man before you froze on the spot, his entire body seeming to go through a system-reboot before a shocked huff escaped him, his neck forcing his head to bring his gaze back to the city as a chuckle finally escaped him “alright that was impressive”

“What can I say it’s a gift” you shrugged humbly, taking another swig before continuing “plus Ethel on the second floor will not stop talking about Michael, the handsome ER doctor who’s single and would really benefit from getting to know a nice girl like me”

At that a real laugh spilled from his lips, his eyes casting up to the sky as he sighed, giving his head a soft shake as he did so “I didn’t realize Ethel was so worried about me”

“You are alone in the middle of the night on the roof drinking”

He snapped his gaze over to you at your words, throwing a pointed look at the bottle in your hands before raising a single brow.

“Didn’t you hear I’m a nice girl”

Another sharp exhalation through his nose, another soft shake of his head, another comfortable silence wrapping around the two of you.

“Robby”

“hmm” you hummed back the silent question, raising a brow of your own in response.

“Most people call me Robby”

“Y/N” you offered your own name in response, extending a hand to him “nice to meet you Dr.Robby”

He smiled at that, the first honest one you had gotten all night, before he slipped his hand into yours “It’s nice to meet you Y/N”

-

You were there again the next night.

Robby wasn’t sure whether he had been hoping you would be or not.

Originally he had sought out the rooftop for the quiet it would offer, for the solace of it all when things got too overwhelming, another person being there threatened to ruin that.

But for some reason in his head you didn’t really count against that.

“So does the alcohol and heights thing still apply if someone else brought it”

You threw your gaze over your shoulder at his words with a warm smile and he couldn’t help but notice that you didn’t seem at all surprised to see him there, couldn’t help but wonder if you had been looking forward to this as much as he had.

“You’ll have to tell me, I thought we had decided you were the expert here”

“I believe that is what you decided” he volleyed back, handing you one of the cans as he sat down beside you, watching you crack it open and take a sip, scrunching your nose up slightly at the taste before looking down at the label.

“Okay if you’re going to start supplying the beer for these we’re going to have to work on your taste” he tried not to attach too much weight to the implied invitation in your words.

“what’s wrong with these?”

“They’re so one note, so flat, so quintessentially IPA” you spoke with heightened dramatics and he couldn’t help but note just how much he appreciated the lightness of the conversation, the inconsequence of it all, the opportunity to finally talk about something other than the hospital. “I’m fairly certain if you were to look up wheat beer in the dictionary the entry would just be a photo of this can”

“So your problem with it is that it tastes like beer?”

You glared at him at that, Robby unable to fully bite down the smirk that grew on his lips at the expression “My problem is that it tastes like beer stripped of anything that could make it interesting.”

“So it’s not bad it’s just boring”

“That’s arguably worse”

“mm no I’m fairly certain I’d rather drink a boring beer than a bad one”

“You willing spent your own money on this swill you no longer get to have an opinion” he couldn’t help but laugh at that, shake his head slightly as you went on “It’s like coffee. You know when you brew it poorly, or use a shitty machine and instead of getting the subtle fruity or chocolate notes of the beans you just get bitter brown water”

And a part of him was almost excited to be the butt of your next joke, to reveal what he had to say next, something you seemed to be able to read in his eyes. “No”

“You’re going to hate me for this”

“Michael please”

He was grinning at the use of his first name, at the sheer desperation in your tone “I’m fairly certain the only coffee I drink comes from a ten dollar machine that’s as old as I am”

You reacted as if you had been physically struck, hand going to your chest as you winced “I can’t believe you’ve never had good coffee”

“I’ve had good coffee before”

“Never experienced a proper pour over”

“I just said that’s the coffee I drink day to day”

“Never taken the time to appreciate the subtle flavors of a good brew”

“Some days it’s just about the caffeine”

“I’m making you coffee for your next shift” Your words yanked him out of the conversation suddenly, his brain taking a few seconds to fully comprehend your words.

“Wait what”

“What time do you leave? 7? 8?” You steamrolled right through his confusion, the favor already a done deal in your head.

“No you don’t have to-“

“I’ll put it in a to-go cup for you” You cut him right off, the sentence coming off so matter of fact-ly it had him chuckling.

“If I’m rushing to work I won’t have time to properly enjoy it”

You shrugged at that, throwing him a cheeky wink as you spoke “guess you’ll have to stop by early then”

A silence settled over the two of you at that, Robby taking the opportunity to properly look at you for the first time that night as you gazed over the city. “Coffee snob, can’t stand boring food, old burns on your forearms. I’m guessing chef”

You grinned at him from his periphery and Robby found himself reciprocating the expression easily. “Ethel’s such a gossip”

He snorted at that, taking a sip of his drink, suddenly a bit more excited for what the morning held for him than usual.

-

You had tried to convince the rest of the kitchen you would be fine, that surely if you just held pressure against it for another ten minutes that the bleeding would finally stop on its own.

None of them of course believed you, but in your opinion it was a valiant effort that should be noted.

You’d at least been able to fend them off from trying to go with you, the poor kid who had accidently cut you looked like he was ready to carry you there himself with the way he carried the guilt of your injury on his shoulders.

But you made it to the PTMH on your own, packed into a waiting room holding more people than it felt like it was fire rated for, and finally taken back to a room after a doctor had caught sight of the shade of red you had stained the once white prep towel you had been using for pressure.

As you were led back a part of you wondered if you should ask for him. This was afterall his hospital, you probably could’ve been seen sooner if you had pulled that card. But was it really your card to pull? You’ve sat on the roof a few times with the man, made him coffee once, did that somehow entitle you to specifically request him?

And even if it did was that really fair? The staff clearly had a system in place, prioritizing, as they should, the most severe cases first you absolutely weren’t going to mess with that.

So instead you kept your mouth shut and followed the doctor who had introduced herself as Mckay and the med student Javadi back to a bed in the ED.

You sat up on the bed as you had been instructed, Dr.Mckay moving to the computer and typing away immediately while Javadi moved to prep a suture kit, the two working together in surprisingly good tandem.

“Now Y/N since this is a teaching hospital do you mind if I let my med student take over here?” Dr.Mckay asked with a comforting smile, gesturing to the girl who didn’t look like she was old enough to be out of high school let alone a doctor.

“No I’ll happily be your pin cushion” Javadi froze at your words, giving you a wide eye look before looking over at Dr.Mckay for direction who only laughed good naturally from behind the terminal and gave her student a small nod to continue.

The rest of the appointment passed without a hiccup. Javadi stitching you up like an absolute pro and sending you on your way with instructions on how to care for it and to see a doctor in a week to get them removed.

You had almost made it through your entire visit without seeing him when on your way out you heard your name being called from behind you.

With one hand still on the door you spun around to look at who had called your name, the rapid sudden movement making you lightheaded and slightly woozy on the spot, your legs starting to wobble beneath you.

Two strong arms caught your own before the world could tilt too much, the new grounding force as well as the stillness more than enough to keep you upright and centered to the spot.

The soft, brown eyes now staring deeply into your own, however, clearly hadn’t picked up on your newfound steadiness. Snapping sharply back and forth between your own, calling your name urgently as his grip on you tightened.

“Robby I’m fine” you tried to brush him off but the man before you wasn’t having any of it.

“What’s wrong are you-“ he paused suddenly, his thumb catching on the bandage on your forearm drawing his gaze down “are you a patient?”

“I was a patient” you corrected him, giving his hand a reassuring squeeze before pulling your arms back from him “just a few stitches I’ve already been discharged”

“Few stitches and you’re feeling dizzy did they even have you on fluids?” He asked with a frown, barely listening to your “no” in response before he was pulling you into the nearest empty room by your hand.

“I don’t need fluids” you protested weakly as he ignored you completely, helping you up onto the bed and immediately going to the terminal in the room and logging in.

“Can’t believe they would send you on your way without any fluids who patched you up?” his complaint was spoken gruffly under his breath, just soft enough you weren’t entirely sure if it was a question for you or the computer.

“Robby please”

He finally paused at that, finally looked up at you and made proper eye contact, peering at you from above his glasses with a clearly displeased expression.

“Ask me the questions” His brows furrowed slightly in response, his head tilting ever so slightly to one side making you dramatically roll your eyes “fine I’ll do it. Are you experiencing any light-headedness, dizziness, or nausea?” You pretended to think on it for a second, humming softly before answering, ticking each response off on your fingers as you did so “no, no, and no”

Robby looked nothing short of completely unimpressed by your skit, merely raising a single eyebrow in response.

“I just turned around too fast” you tried to explain with no small amount of exasperation in your voice “world went off kilter for a second because of it but that’s it”

At that he sighed heavily, taking off his glasses and giving his eyes a tired rub before he straightened his posture, crossing his arms over his chest before gesturing down to your arm “what happened”

You huffed a little at how the words were less a question than a command “accident at work, got sliced by a knife. Bleeding wouldn’t stop so I came here”

He clearly wasn’t completely placated by your answer but let it slide anyway, taking a seat on a rolling stool and coming up next to you “can I see?”

Wordlessly you placed your arm in his hands, watching his fingers delicately undo the dressing Javadi had just wrapped for you minutes before. He took a deep breath once the stitches were unearthed, taking a moment to properly look at each of them as his thumb stroked softly back and forth over the skin around it.

“Stitches look good”

“Javadi did a good job”

His sharp gaze again cut up to you with a small frown on his face, his thumbs back and forth movement halting “you had a med student working on you”

“You just said she did good” you shot back with a tired laugh, a sound that finally had the corners of his lips tilting up.

“Why didn’t you come to me?” Your own small smile dropped instantly at his question, at the rawness of it, the vulnerability.

“It was no big deal. I didn’t want to bother you with it”

“Bother me with it” he repeated almost bitterly under his breath with a shake of his head, pivoting slightly to reach for a new set of dressings, getting ready to start wrapping up your arm again before speaking louder this time “how long were you waiting out there”

You shrugged at that, choosing to focus your gaze down on your arm as he started to wrap it rather than the man himself “Not long, there were people who needed-“

“And yet you’re lightheaded from blood-loss”

He took in a sharp breath right after the words slipped out of him, Robby recognizing the sharpness in his tone before you could point it out to him and giving himself a deep breath to try and reset before continuing “Just- next time bother me okay. I don’t care how small it is”

“Okay” you agreed blindly, Robby seeming to notice your lack of attention and giving your wrist a soft squeeze, physically pulling your gaze up to meet his.

“I mean it. No matter what. You find yourself in the Pitt I want you to ask for me okay. Or Jack Abbot if I’m not here he’ll take care of you”

And you couldn’t help but smile softly at his concern, nodding along with him before repeating yourself with more conviction “okay”

He mirrored your smile with one of his own, giving you a nod before softly placing your arm back in your lap and backing up a bit, you having not noticed how close he had gotten over the course of looking you over. “Now you sure you’re okay?”

“I’m fine” you assured him “promise I’ll find the juice with the highest sugar content the minute I get back to work”

He smile fell instantly at your words, head going back into his hands as he groaned dramatically “of course you’re going back to work”

And you couldn’t help but laugh at his theatrics “dinner rush, they need me. I’ll cut back though, won’t do anything with this arm scouts honor”

“were you even a scout?” His tone was nothing short of unamused making your snort.

“I’ll send someone by with dinner for the whole staff” you tried to distract him with a grin, Robby unable to bite down his own in response.

“At least tell me someone is coming by to pick you up”

“nah I walked here”

Another dramatic groan, one you weren’t entirely sure wasn’t fully for your benefit “You’re killing me here honey”

He started to stand at that, as if he hadn’t thrown your entire world off kilter again with a simple pet name, and started to take off his gloves “Text me when you make it back to the restaurant okay” he paused after that, seemed almost unsure of his next words before he forced them out “and come by mine tonight when you’re done I’ll change your dressings for you”

“I can change my own-“

“Let me” he interrupted with a soft a plea.

You couldn’t help but pause at that, to look the man before you over once, to note the sincerity in his expression before answering “I may be pretty late” you tried to warn him, playing it off like you were trying to get him to back down, fully knowing you were hoping he wouldn’t.

“doesn’t matter” his answer came quick and without any real thought behind it, as if the conclusion were obvious “I know where to get a good coffee if I need it”

“make a guy a cup of coffee once and all of a sudden he thinks he’s entitled to more” you teased with a smirk

He chuckled softly at that, hiding his gaze down in his hands briefly before looking back up at you “You’ll come right?”

“Yeah Mike I’ll be there”

A lopsided smile grew on his face at the nickname “good” he pushed the door open behind him and stood slightly off to the side to allow you to pass, letting his hand fall to the small of your back as you did so “now get out of here before I hook you up to an IV anyways”

You laughed off the threat. Ignoring the tingle left behind from his touch as he ushered you forward, not making it very far before a blonde woman in scrubs came rushing in, nose buried in a tablet.

“Robby there you are we have a-“ she cut herself off as she raised her eyes to the scene before her, her gaze zeroing in quickly on the hand Robby still had on your spine, on the closeness between you two, a grin that could only be described as downright wolfish growing on her face as she cut her eyes to meet Robby’s “this blue tumbler?”

You raised a brow at the question, cutting your eyes up to meet Robby’s only to see his cheeks starting to go pink as he ducked his head ever so slightly with a soft sigh “Y/N this is Dana, the only person able to keep this entire ED running in something resembling order, also the person who stole the coffee you gave me the other day”

Immediately you were grinning at the woman, relishing the way she was able to make Robby sweat from beneath her gaze “You tried it? What did you think?”

She took a second longer to pull her gaze from Robby, relishing the way he squirmed before her before she smiled warmly at you “best damn cup of coffee I’ve ever had”

“Thank you!” You exclaimed in relief, giving Robby a pointed elbow in the side as you said it “this man doesn’t properly appreciate a good cup of coffee I swear. You ever been to Brewsters on Canton?”

She shook her head at your question, popping one hip to stand more comfortably as if she were settling into the conversation “that where you get it from?”

“Where I got he beans from” You nodded eagerly “you go on Tuesdays ask for Joey he’ll hook you up with the freshly roasted shit”

“Okay Dana did you need something” Robby cut in before she could respond in pure exasperation, sending the woman a silent glare that you couldn’t help but giggle at.

She seemed to bite back her own laugh as well, her smirk sent at Robby filled with mirth as she nodded “asthmatic kid’s family in asking to see you. Not an emergency I think they just got questions”

“Thank you Dana I’ll be right there” he sent her what was obviously a dismissal with a pointed glare, Dana taking the whole thing in stride and fading back from the two of you, never going too far and looking much too interested in her tablet to really be doing anything productive.

“I like her” You chuckled up at him, the corners of his own mouth tipping up despite his obvious best attempt to remain stern.

“Yeah that’s what I was afraid of”

You grinned back at him at that, reaching out almost instinctually to give his arm a soft squeeze as you started to drift towards the exit “alright doc I’ll let you get back to it”

“I mean it you feel even slightly dizzy I want you back here for an IV” he called after you, staying rooted on the spot as you parted.

“Aye yai cap” you mock saluted with a smirk “tell the woman eavesdropping in the corner I’ll send you in with a cup of coffee for her tomorrow”

“Thank you sweetheart” Dana called back with a grin, not even bothering to pretend she wasn’t doing exactly that.

You grinned back at her and with a final nod left the ED, the door barely swinging back shut behind you before Dana was beside Robby once again, the two of them watching the door close fully with vastly different expressions.

Dana chuckled under her breath, pressing the tablet in her hands to Robby’s chest as she clapped his shoulder and gave it a shake “you are so screwed Robinavitch”

Almost numbly Robby grabbed the tablet from her and peered down at it, barely noting the words that came out under his breath as he said them “yeah I know”

Dana cackled loudly at that, leaving her attending in his spot as she started to make her way back to the nursing station “oh I cannot wait to tell Abbot”

That seemed to knock Robby out of his stupor, his head whipping around to watch the charge nurse disappear around the corner. “Wait Dana”

Part 2

[blackwidownat2814]

I think it's pretty obvious there's not going to be a second date with this rando lady Robby went out with. I think he needs to focus on his pretty crossword doing florist...aka us.

I can smell the slowburn angst/fluff coming and I canNOT wait!!

it's a garden life // michael robinavitch x reader

part two · myrtle ( wc. 1.2k )

↞ prev // next ↠ · [ series masterlist ]

The date went well. She liked the flowers, though she didn’t say anything other than pretty, thank you. Robby started trying to explain what you had told him, but she didn’t seem charmed in the way he expected. After her face twists in confusion for the umpteenth time he just gives up on trying to rationalize the choice.

They made good conversation- even had a few laughs. Something about her dog destroying a couch cushion while she was at work— or was it her cat? He's not entirely sure. His mind was admittedly elsewhere for the duration of the dinner.

All Robby could think about the whole time he was sitting across from a perfectly nice and pretty woman was the kind eyed, crossword-doing florist he promised to go back and see afterwards.

He knew he was in trouble when the first thing he did this morning wasn't texting his date to set up a second, but silently praying he hadn't cancelled his subscription to the New York Times.

Sure enough, he hadn't, and there was a copy rolled up and sitting on his front step. The outer pages were a little damp from last night's rain but the crossword was still doable- thank God.

Robby also had the day off today, he'd traded the shift with the other dayshift attending who wanted a day off later in the month for his daughter's birthday. He went back into his Google search history to find your shop again, scrolling until he found your opening hours. 10am, so he still had to wait a while.

In the meantime he filled in what he could of the crossword and took a shower to get himself presentable. It was stupid- he didn't put half this much effort into getting ready for his actual date. He literally went after work, still covered in antiseptic smell and hospital air. But for you, he thought, this would be worth it.

He heads out around 10:30, not wanting to seem too eager and get there right when you open. When he walks in you're helping a customer, something about a 5th wedding anniversary dinner tonight. You still acknowledge him though, shooting him a quick smile and millisecond of eye contact when he walks in. He returns the informal greeting then moves to linger in the back of the shop while you wrap up their flowers and cash them out, and pretends to look through your selection.

"Hey!" You turn your attention to him as soon as the customer has left the store. “You’re not gonna believe this,” he says, finally stepping up to the counter you’re behind. You quirk an eyebrow, beckoning him to continue.

“She didn’t know about the birth flower thing apparently. Looked like I was speaking a foreign language when I tried to explain.” A little amused look comes on his face when your jaw drops in response. “You’re kidding! Damn, I’m sorry, I thought that would’ve blown her away- maybe even gotten you laid," you wink.

"That's not really my type," he mumbles, trying his hardest to fight off a blush from overtaking his face. "Ah it’s okay," he shrugs, "must not have been that into the Romans.” A smile pulls at your lips hearing that he remembers your little fun fact. "Speaking of the Romans," he continues, reaching around to his back pocket. He pulls out a folded New York Times paper and opens it to the crossword, half of the squares filled with chicken-scratch handwriting the others empty or chock full of eraser marks.

"You wouldn't happen to know what goes in today's 16 down would you?" He turns the paper over to you. The curves and edges of his writing catch your eye first, before your gaze drifts over to the clues. "A senators deputy, as in Ancient Rome," you flick up to look at him, "you think I'm just chock full of facts about Rome?"

He raises his shoulders to his ears in an over emotive shrug, "ohh I don't know. Thought I'd take a chance at you maybe harbouring a few more up there," he raises his eyebrows towards you.

You try— and fail— to fight off a smile before relenting and revealing that you do in fact know many more facts about Ancient Rome. "Equites," you say, "the class below senators in Roman civilization."

"How about this one,” you ask, taking out your own half filled copy of the Times, “Immaculate Steelers play," you read, passing it, "whatever the fuck that means." Robby fishes a pair of reading glasses from his pants pocket and slides them over his ears.

You take a deep breath.

He takes the paper from you and scans his eyes down it, mumbling the clue to himself once more before humming. "It's reception. Immaculate Reception. Some iconic play from '72."

"You that old?" You tease, taking the newspaper back. He scoffs, "sometimes I feel like I am." You laugh at his self deprecating joke before turning to scribble the answer into the boxes.

Robby's too enthralled in the way a few strands of your hair have fallen into your face. He eyes over the texture and the way the sun flows through the shop window and bounces against it just right and- wait, did you say something? Shit. He was too occupied to notice.

"What's that sorry?" He asks, shaking his head quickly like it'll make you forget that you just caught him staring. You smile, "the date," you clarify. "Flowers aside... did it go well?"

"Yeah, it was good." He breathes, stuffing his hands into his pockets with a quick nod. Robby doesn't offer anything else, and you widen your eyes in anticipation. "That's it?" You shake your head slowly, "are you gonna see her again?" He just shrugs, "maybe! Maybe, I- to be honest, I hadn't thought that far ahead."

"Well, when you're ready to think that far ahead, you let me know and we'll get you another bouquet." You smile knowingly. "I'll definitely let you know," he returns your smile and nods his head. You two hold eye contact for a moment- not saying anything just... looking.

Then an all too familiar vibration in his pocket takes him out of it.

His pager.

"Fuck, he mutters, reaching around to pull it out and check the notification. "Duty calls?" You ask, though you already know the answer. He nods- regrettably. "Yup. Classic emergency room. Day off can't even stay a day off." Robby shoves the pager back into his pocket and takes his copy of the Times off your desk and puts that back too.

"Well, if I need any flowers going forward this'll definitely be my place." He says, taking a step back in preparation to leave. "Some may say I'm also good for crossword help- particularly when it's related to the Romans." You add, cheeky grin tugging at your lips.

"Right," he smiles, "that too. I'll keep you in mind-" his natural progression would be to say your name but then he realizes- he doesn't know it.

"Wait, I uh- your name," he says quickly, "I don't know your name." You smile, then tell him. He nods like he's committing it to memory. "I'm Michael. Robinavitch. Michael Robinavitch. Everyone calls me Robby."

You smile, "well then, Robby. I'll see you soon."

thank you for reading!!! plsplspls leave a comment/reblog with your thoughts it means more than you know!!! <3 <3 <3

taglist (comment if you'd like to be added/removed!!) ; @robbyrosierobinavitch @dreamamubarak @disassociation-daydreams @twiddledeedumsworld @pope-codys @beebeechaos @memoriesat30 @vystasea @antisocialfiore @thedamnqueenofhell @blackwidownat2814 @peggyofoz @sabi127 @sanchann @bookoffracturedescapes @jazzimac1967

[kilojulietsierra]

So, now what? (Dr Abbot x Reader)

Just a little idea I had after watching the finale last night. (SPOILERS)

Takes place in the scene where the crew is having beers in the park. A little bit of Abbot x female!reader, a hint of Javadi x Mateo if you squint. Literally just a little blurb I had in my head before bed and thought i'd share.

~~~~~~

They all sat there, in a reflective, exhausted silence for a moment. VIctoria is the one that breaks it, "So, now what?"

There's a hesitant moment of silence, and then… laughter. They all laugh. Some a little more hysterical than others. Robby laughs the loudest, the day hitting him all at once, "Now, you go home. Go home and do… whatever it is you need to do to sleep tonight." He leans forward and rubs both hands over his face and chuckles again.

Mateo grins and gives Victoria a little look, not so subtly, "Comfy sweats and something funny on TV."

Beside him Donnie scoffs, "Hot shower, Mom's leftover lasagna and melatonin. I don't care if I fall asleep with my face in the plate."

The group laughs again. Then, soft ,almost like she's talking to herself Princess sighs, "Think I'm gonna put on some Forensic Files, have a glass a wine, and troll Tinder until I fall asleep on the couch."

"What about you boss man?" Abbot elbows Robby and takes another drink of beer.

"Me? Oh I'm just gonna go home, and go to bed. Try not to wake up until Monday." He sets his beer down so he can do exactly that.

Samira speaks up, "What about you Dr. Abbot?"

Jack takes a deep breath and nods, "I am going to go home, take a hot shower, heat up the dinner I was supposed to eat," He glances at his watch, "Four hours ago. Then I am going to make love to my wife until I pass out, and if I wake up sometime before seven am, I'll come back, check on my night shift gremlins, see if they need any more help."

While Samira and VIctoria are busy blushing and avoiding eye contact entirely, Jack and Robby cheers with what's left of their beer.

A black truck pulls up on the street between the hospital and the park. "Speak of the devil." Robby chuckles as he picks up his bag.

Abbot looks over his shoulder and smirks, "I'm gonna tell her you said that."

"Go right ahead, we've called each other worse." Robby smiles and stands up as the truck door slams behind them.

A pretty, young woman walks around the back of the truck in a pair of yoga pants and a hoodie, twirling a simple black cane in one hand like a baton. "So, my mama was right, only hoodlums hang out in the park after dark."

"Watch it." Donnie snarked back at her as she approached. Jack just smiled and finished cleaning the blood off his shoe.

Mateo waved, "Hey Mrs. A."

She met Robby half way and he wrapped her up in a big hug, "Hey trouble."

"Look who's talking." He teased her as he gave her an extra squeeze. "Make sure he takes it easy tonight."

"You know I'll try." Her voice was soft and maybe a little tired. Like she'd been patiently, anxiously, waiting to hear something, anything, while she had been stuck at home. "Take care of yourself." She rubbed his back as they pulled apart. As Robby walked away she walked over to the bench and squeezed onto the end next to Princess. "Everybody okay?"

For the most part everyone just nods, Princess leans her head on her shoulder and closes her eyes. Jacks wife just smiles and leans her own head against Princess's. "Anyone need a ride home?"

All around the group pretty much shakes their head, "I think we're goin' to hang out here for awhile Mrs. A." Matteo gives her a smile.

"Ok." She returns the smile like she gets it. She does. "How about you Doc?" She shifts her gaze to her husband in the bench across from hers.

He doesn't flinch under her gaze, he knows she's triaging him as they sit. She's looking at his posture, his eyes, his facial expression, he's already taken the prosthesis off and he knows that tells her a lot, "Waitin' on you." Jack gives her a grin and a wink.

WIth a nod she gives Princess a hug, it's awakard at their angle but they both smile. When she stands up she flips the cane end over end like she's done it a thousand times and holds the grip out towards him, "You want this or you gonna put that back on?"

Jack just groans, "Just help me up." He held his right hand out and she took it. They locked their hands around eachother's forearm and she set her feet to take his weight as she helped him up. He took his cane and leaned on it, not so sneakily watching her ass as she bent over to grab his backpack and hand it to him. "C'mere." He used her grip on the bag to tug her to him for a quck kiss and a little tap on the ass. Like he didn't think twice about the PDA in front of his coworkers he turned around. "You kids stay out of trouble. Go home and get some sleep." He gave each of the others a look, an easy smile as he shouldered his bag. "You did good today."

Beside him his wife grabbed his prosthesis off the bench where he'd stood it and gave everyone a wave, "Night guys." Then walked with Jack to his truck where she stood by as he opened the passenger door and climbed inside.

The others watched as she walked around the front of the truck, Jacks truck, and climbed into the drivers seat.

Samira watched as the truck started up and drove away, "That's Dr. Abbots wife?"

Donnie and Mateo both nodded. Princess spoke up, "She was his physical therapist at Walter Reid. Very young. Very sexy. Very scandalous." She chuckled at the other girls expressions and took a sip of her beer. "Don't worry, one of these days it'll be our turn."

Victoria might not have seen the slight blush on Mateo's cheeks, but it was there. Princess and Donnie shared a knowing looke, tapped their beer cans together in a cheers and sat in the dark, listening to the chatter and the sound of sirens running code 3 in the distance.

~~

[private-witt]

— Euripides, Herakles (translated by Anne Carson)

[texasbama]

Good night. Get some rest. Tomorrow is another day.

The Pitt 1.01 '7:00 A.M.' // The Pitt 1.15 '9:00 P.M.'

[blackwidownat2814]

I'm loving all these insights into Robby & Jack's families!

Things Michael Robinavitch has said to his three wallet drainers daughters:

“Why are you wearing all black? Are you in your Reputation era?”

“Why is my stethoscope bedazzled?”

“I think it’ll just be easier if I start going to Costco for tampons.”

“Sweetheart, I don’t care if you like girls or boys. Or both. But if you marry a Steelers fan, you are never welcome in this house again.”

“I think there are more stray bobby pins in this house than microbes.”

“Don’t listen to your Uncle Jack. He’s a Steelers fan.”

“You’re all as pretty and stubborn as your momma.”

“What the fuck is a Labubu?”

“Your brother is upset because you deleted his Transformers movie to download more episodes of Love Island.”

“Can I borrow this earring? I’m taking your momma out on a date tonight.”

[aworldinsideaperson]

Coming Home to You - Doctor Michael Robinavitch

Pairing: Dr. Michael Robinavitch x Wife!Reader

Plot: Robby finally makes it home from the worst shift of his life to the only thing that could possibly ease his heartache.

Warnings: There really isn’t any I can think of. Presumed age-gap. Illusion to show events.

Word Count: 965

A/N: No one else has read through this and I wrote it in a little over 2 hours so I don’t even know what happened I just couldn’t get the thought out of my head and tbh this is what our man needs. Frankly it’s what he deserves.

His tense muscles ached as Robby trudged up the stairs of the apartment complex, a habit he’d been trying to get into in the last few months even on nights he was so exhausted he all but dragged his feet from one step to the next. It’s later than he’d hoped, a day of tragedy and despair, bodies piled high. He hated to bring that sadness home, hated to let it fill the space and consume everything around him. Days like this he couldn’t help it. Couldn’t help that it was 11pm when he finally slid his key into the door.

Part of him hoped for a silent house. Silence meant they were asleep. Silence meant he could wallow and cry in peace. Yet the bigger part of him felt his shoulders relax and his heart swell at the soft singing coming from down the hall.

Robby quietly kicked his shoes off and placed his bag on the floor. As silently as he could he moved down the hall, her voice becoming more defined as he reached the door with a small soft light peeking into the hallway. His shoulders finally relax, a smile spreading across his lips as he leans against the doorway of the nursery and just listens, catching the last lines of a song he knows well.

Raisins and Almonds, a song his mother had sung to him as a child his wife now sings to their sweet baby. She smiles as she looks toward the doorway, faux whispering to the bundle in her arms “I think someone is hoping to see you, you up for it? Yeah? I thought so.” Her voice dips with exhaustion, her day hard in different ways from his own but no less tiring.

Entering the room Robby kneels beside the rocker, placing one hand on his wife’s knee and bringing the other up to rest on the baby’s head. “How are my girls?” His eyes never leave the wide eyed baby in her arms.

“I think we knew daddy needed us, we woke up about ten minutes before you got home.” She whispers, one hand reaching out to smooth over his hair, still damp from sweat.

Looking at his wife with sad eyes he squeezes her knee. “I’m sorry I’m so late. You know I love doing bedtime together”

She shakes her head, even she knew his day was far from normal. “No no, don’t be sorry. I saw. I’m just glad you’re home safe.”

He smiles, lifting his hand to press to her cheek. “Me too.”

“Do you want to rock her? You can have your time together and I’ll warm you up some dinner.” She offers holding their baby out to him.

“That sounds amazing.” He grins taking the small baby in his arms he sighs as she reaches her hand up toward his beard. He brings her closer and her tiny fingers sink into the soft hair.“Hi honey. I’m so happy to see you. You make my day so much better just being in it. You’re looking pretty sleepy, do you want another lullaby?” Her eyes flutter shut, fingers still pressing into his beard and he repeats the song his wife had just been singing, rocking back and forth. It's only a few moments before her hand and arms have gone limp as she sinks into a deep slumber. Though Robby doesn’t put her down right away, continuing to rock and hold her tightly to his chest until a soft beeping makes its way into the room. Smiling, he places her down in her crib,“I love you so much baby, sleep tight.” he speaks softly.

Quietly shutting the door behind him Robby makes his way to the kitchen just as his wife places a plate on the table. A warm meal. A warm home. A happy life. He leans in to kiss her deeply. “This is incredible. You’re incredible. I don’t know how I lived so long without you.”

Smiling, she pecks him on the cheek before sitting across from him at the table with her cup of tea. She shrugs.“You had to, otherwise you wouldn’t have become the man I fell in love with.”

Reaching across the table Robby squeezes her hand. “I love you sweetheart. You’re truly, truly, the love of my life and I am so lucky to have you both.” His smile wanned. The day catching up with him once again.

She frowns and squeezes his hand back tightly, as tight as she can. A reminder that he’s far from being alone. “We’re lucky to have you too.” The two sat in silence a moment longer, holding hands and soaking in the precious time together. “Are you ready to talk about your day?” She asked, taking a sip from her now cooled mug. No pushing just as if he worked in an office pushing papers all day.

Letting out a heavy breath he shakes his head. Robby picks up his fork, stabbing at his plate.“I’d rather hear about yours.” He insists.

Her frow deepens only a moment before a smirk slips onto her face, gossip ready to spill from her lips. Robby leans forward, loving the joy his wife found in telling him all the newest stories, like his own little soap opera. “Oh you’re not ready.” She begins, placing her tea down to lean in like he had. “So we’re at play group today and you know Betty and Andy? Well get this, turns out they’re…”

She continued on; the gossip and her day and all the things his girls had done together. And for a moment the rest of the world melted away. Just Michael Robinavitch, his family, and the loving space he will always come home to.

[popcornpoppypop]

Snippet Saturday!

Haven't fed you guys in a while, I'm sorry! I've been fighting my muses and attention span. It's a bloody battle. Here's a snippet of my POTS fic that I'm finishing up. I don't have a title yet, I usually come up with those once it's finished. I've stopped doing a lot of X Reader fics, I just find it limits my language style a bit. Does that bother anybody? I still leave the descriptions vague, avoiding physical descriptors if I can to make up for it. Let me know!

“I just need a second.” Olivia started trying to get out of bed. Robby pushed her back down onto the bed.

“Nope. You need to relax for a minute.” He told her.

“Laying down isn’t great for me right now.”

“Okay, sit, but stay off your feet.” He scolded as he got the glucometer prepped.

“Come on. No. I don’t need that.” She crossed her arms.

“Don’t be stubborn. POTS patients can experience hypoglycemia. You know that. Humor me.” He raised an eyebrow.

“Fine.” She growled, flopping her hand out to him.

“Thank you.” He swabbed her finger with alcohol and pricked it, letting the stick fill with blood.

“I haven’t passed out in so long.” Olivia shook her head.

“Stress can make things worse.” Robby pulled his glasses out to read the glucometer.

“I haven’t had any more stress than usual.”  

“You’re a senior resident. Your life is stress.” He snorted. He turned the glucometer to show her. “70. You just earned yourself monitoring and a sandwich.”

“Fuck.” Olivia cursed.

“Hey, just let us take care of you. Any preferences?”

“Same as Earl.”

“No egg salad, got it.” He smiled as he left the room.

[writteninthestars288]

[coldcomfortflowers]

my beloved pittfic authors,

i regret to inform you that in the state of pennsylvania you cannot buy a six pack at the gas station. You cannot buy wine at the grocery store.

pa has weird liquor laws and i won't get into why in this post but just know that buying alcohol is annoying.

if you want to buy beer in pa, you go to a "beer distributor" which is not a store technically, it requires a special license to operate and it's more like a warehouse or wholesale situation. always run by a weird guy. sometimes you can drive into the warehouse to load up your car with beer.

it will look something like this. even in the city. you can probably get a keg and also cigars there.

this is also where you can buy hard seltzers or canned cocktails.

IN SOME PLACES: you can buy a six pack at the grocery store. but! you have to check out in a different lane from the rest of your groceries.

for wine and liquor you need to go to the State Store. Fine Wine and Good Spirits is run by the state. They have a mediocre selection usually and can in theory order anything but they are very bad at it in my experience (as a person who really likes a specific brand of weird french gin). you can usually also get standard mixers here, tonic, margarita mix etc.

State Stores are not open on sundays, and usually close around 9pm, hence the need for premeditated alcohol purchasing.

in philly we often drive to jersey to get cheaper booze and a better selection. i assume pittsburgh folks also cross the border or ohio or wv but it's further than it is for us.

okay here we go. now you know. please i do not want to see another character by a six pack at the gas station on the way home sorry.

[science-hoes]

Maroon

Michael Robinavitch x Reader

Warnings: 18+, SMUT, age gap, unprotected sex

Description: Robby makes sure the reader knows her worth after being stood up on a date.

Michael Robinavitch Masterlist

—

You knew you looked good. Fuck, you had spent three hours getting ready. Exfoliating your entire body to be smoother than marble. Shaving your legs and pelvic area. Massaging lotion deep into your skin. Blow-dried hair and flawless makeup. And your outfit. A long, red, satin dress that hung off your shoulders, snatched around your waist, and a slit that showcased your left upper thigh. 

You walked into the Pitt, the clicking of your black heels announcing your presence. Every head, single and taken, craned to watch you pass by. The path up to the nurses' station might as well have been a catwalk. When Dana turned around, she let out a surprised laugh. 

“Wow! I didn’t know you owned any clothes besides scrubs.” She teased. 

You smiled and leaned against the counter. “To be fair, this is probably the only nice outfit I have.” You admitted. 

Dana glanced around the room, and just about every person, staff and patients alike, were trying to sneak glances at you. “Well, you’ve certainly got everyone’s attention. Why are you all dressed up?” She asked. 

You rubbed your hands together, trying to soothe yourself, swallowing hard before you spoke to mask any insecurities in your voice. “I had a date. Got stood up.” You replied.

Dana furrowed her brow when she saw your nose scrunch at the early sting of tears. “Stood up? Does he know you look like this?” She waved her hands down your body as if she were presenting you to an audience. 

You felt a smile reach your lips again and giggled slightly. “I mean, he had only seen me in scrubs.” You answered. 

Dana leaned in, suspicion in her eyes. “Was it someone from the Pitt?” She whispered. 

You looked around to make sure nobody was close enough to hear, but you still shielded your lips when you mouthed the name “Matteo.”

She pulled her lips into a thin line and nodded. “Not surprised. Good nurse, but still a kid.” She said. 

You shrugged, shoulders pulling closer to your frame to minimize yourself. “We’re the same age. I just thought he was a little more serious than that.” You confessed. 

Your work mom pointed her index finger at you. “What you need is a man. Not some kid. Someone older.” She advised. 

A huff of air passed your lips, and you stood up straight again. “Trust me, I’ve been trying.” You glanced around before leaning in again. “A certain stick-in-the-mud won’t hold a conversation longer than thirty seconds if it’s not about a patient.”

Dana chuckled. “Too bad he’s already gone home for the night. Otherwise, I think you’d have him wrapped around your finger if he saw how you looked right now.” She mused.

You smiled at the thought and compliment. “I’ve kinda given up on that. It’s out of my reach. Hence, my date tonight.”

“Well, never say never. Now why are you here instead of at a bar picking up hot men?” She asked. 

You looked towards the doctor’s lounge. “I left my purse here. Has my driver’s license and everything. Just glad I didn’t get pulled over.” You replied. 

She smiled and gave you a ‘get outta here’ nod of her head. “Get your stuff and go have some fun. Don’t let a stupid boy ruin your night. But not too much fun because I don’t want to see your body search on the evening news.” 

You giggled and rolled your eyes. “Okay, fine. I’ll probably just go to Fenian’s across the street.” You agreed before heading toward the doctor’s lounge. 

As you opened the door, you bumped into someone exiting the lounge. “Oh, I’m sorry.” The familiar voice said. Dr. Robby towered over you, still not looking down, distracted by the last few minutes of his shift. “This is a doctor's lounge. We ask that patients and families-“

“Doctor Robby.” You said, trying to get him to actually look down at you. 

And boy, when he finally did. Robby’s breath hitched once he realized it was you. He had already pinned you as a patient’s girlfriend, probably in the ER after your boyfriend had an allergic reaction at a fancy restaurant.

“Oh.” Was all he could say. 

His eyes scanned your body, lingering a little too long at your exposed cleavage. You fiddled with the delicate bracelet around your wrist out of nervousness and let out a breathy laugh. “Sorry, I just left my purse here.” You said.

Without a word, Robby held the door open for you, and you went inside. You grabbed your purse, slung it over your shoulder, and exited the room again. “Thank you.” You added before heading towards the entrance of the Pitt. 

Robby’s eyes were locked on your calves as you strutted away in those black heels. He felt winded like he had fallen flat on his back and had the air knocked out of his lungs. Slowly, he walked up to the nurses’ station, not taking his eyes off you until you exited the building.

Meanwhile, Dana had been watching the entire interaction. Amused, she leaned back in her chair. “I thought you went home.” She said.

Robby rubbed the back of his neck, a nervous tic. “Uh, no. Not yet.” He answered.

“You look like you’ve seen an angel.” She teased. 

He leaned against the high counter and shook his head. “No, I just didn’t recognize her.” He replied. 

Dana rolled her eyes. “Come on, Robby. Productivity dropped fifty percent the moment she walked in the door. You can admit that she looked good.” She said. 

He looked to Dana like admitting it out loud would be an unforgivable sin. It would verify that he had entertained the idea of dragging you to an on-call room with him or bringing you coffee at the beginning of your shift. “She’s half my age. I could be her father.” He replied. 

Dana shrugged. “A young father.” She amended. 

Robby rolled his eyes, but he couldn’t shake the image of you walking away. Hair bouncing on your back with every step, the sway of your hips. “Why was she all dressed up?” He asked. 

“She had a date and got stood up. Can you believe that?” She answered. 

No. He really couldn’t believe that. How does someone as intelligent as you, looking like a modern-day goddess, get stood up? But he said nothing to show his hand. 

“I’m about to head out. Anything you need before I leave?” He asked instead, drumming his hands on the high counter. 

Dana gave him a skeptical look. “No. Go on, get out of here before night shift drags you into a room.” She replied. And as Robby began to walk away, he heard Dana add, “She’s at Fenian’s.”

Fenian’s. The bar across from the hospital. Robby began to consider it. Showing up after his shift in scrubs that had probably come in contact with every possible bodily fluid that day. His eyes were sunken in from dehydration and sleep deprivation. All while you looked like a pin-up poster girl. And you probably had men on either side of you now, each trying to best the other to win your affections. 

His mind ran on like that until he found himself standing at the entrance of the bar, the neon blue ‘OPEN’ sign shining bright in his eyes. He turned to leave, shaking his head in disbelief that he had even walked to the bar. Until he saw you through the window. Sitting alone at the counter. Legs delicately crossed, posture impeccable. You sipped on what looked like vodka and club soda, eyes peering up at the Steelers game on the TV. You looked like an angel in the low light of the bar.

Robby didn’t realize he had walked in through the door until a bell signaled that he entered. The bartender looked up and smiled. “Hey, Robby. What can I get ya?” She asked. 

You didn’t turn around, eyes focused on the game. You hadn’t even considered that it was your Robby who walked in. “Shot of Lalo, please.” He answered. 

His voice made your heart jump to your throat. You turned your head, hair tossing naturally over your shoulder. Robby smiled, but it was a small one. Slowly, he moved to sit at the barstool next to you, back leaning against the bar to watch a different game on the TV behind you. 

“Can’t stay away from the hospital for too long, huh?” He said, trying to begin a lighthearted conversation. 

You studied the way he sat next to you, arms crossed over his chest, head tilted up to watch the game. You smiled slightly. “I was supposed to have a date.” You answered, almost embarrassed.

“Didn’t show up?”

“No. He even had the day off, too.” 

Robby finally glanced at you out of the corner of his eye. Your posture regressed to a slouch, and you stared blankly at your fizzing cup on the bar. A strange twist in his chest arose at the pitiful sight. He turned slightly to face you, leaning an elbow on the counter. 

“You deserve better than that.” He affirmed. 

You huffed at his words and took a sip of your drink. “I guess he really is more interested in Javadi.” You said. 

Robby raised an eyebrow. “Javadi? You mean you were supposed to go on a date with Matteo?”

Your silent nod sent a vile jolt of jealousy through his body. One that he hadn’t expected. He downed his shot of tequila that he had let sit on the bar. The burn in his throat distracted him from the nausea pooling in his stomach at the thought of you and Matteo. Someone much younger than him. Better looking than him.

“Maybe it’s a good thing. I’m looking to settle down, and he doesn’t seem like he’s in that headspace.” You finally added. 

Robby raised a finger to the bartender, who poured another shot for him. “Yeah, I don’t think he is.” He confirmed. 

You glanced up at him as he threw back the second shot. It hurt to hear the truth confirmed, even if you already knew. But then Dana’s words seemed to creep into your mind.

“Dana said I need someone older.” You found yourself admitting. 

Robby met your gaze again, feeling a whisper of warmth in his cheeks, unsure if it was the tequila or your words. “Older.” He repeated, though not as a question. 

You nodded and turned to face him on your barstool. The slit in your shimmering red dress widened to reveal even more of your thigh, dangerously close to your hip. Robby couldn’t help himself from looking, and you noticed the way his eyes politely flicked back up to yours with a swiftness. 

“Someone who knows what he wants. Knows how to take care of me.” You tested the waters, seeing if Robby would take the bait. 

He remained guarded, but his eyes were riveted on your thickly glossed lips. “Take care of you.” He mumbled to himself like an oath. 

You shrugged. “Or at least let me take care of him.” You added, voice laced with sultry. 

Robby’s dark chocolate eyes snapped up, a twinkle of understanding within them. Your lips curved into a small smile, and you leaned in closer, your cleavage deepening from the change in position. “Do you know of anyone like that?” You asked softly, feigning innocence. 

You were close enough now to smell the strong aroma of Lalo on his breath, and he was intoxicated by the sweet scent of your perfume. “I-“ He began to stutter, the pitch of his voice faltering. “You’ve been drinking. I’m not going to take advantage of you.” He said as firmly as he was able to. 

You raised an eyebrow and tilted your head to your drink. “That’s Sprite.” You deadpanned. “I’m sober. Are you?” 

Robby chuckled at the idea that two shots of tequila would make him feel anything. “Absolutely.” He answered. 

Your bare knee brushed against his, leaning in impossibly close now. “Then take me home.” You whispered. 

Robby’s hands trembled as he ran one through his thinning dark hair. “I don’t do hookups. I can’t do casual. I can only handle something real.” He warned. “I know you’re upset about Matteo not showing-”

“Robby.” You cut him off. “I never wanted him. I’ve always wanted you.”

The air hung heavy between the two of you. Your doe eyes were making him crumble. “You want me?” He questioned. Now he was concerned that two shots of tequila did affect him.

You rose to your feet, standing in between his spread legs now, still craning your neck up at him. The distance between your lips was minuscule, and for the first time, you placed your hands on his body, resting them on his chest. “I want you. Take me home.” You reaffirmed. 

—-

The door to Robby’s house slammed shut after he pulled you through the threshold. He pinned you against it, hands resting on the wood on either side of your head. His head lowered so that your noses brushed, but he wouldn’t go any farther than that. 

Your hands found rest on his chest again, flush against the fabric of his navy hoodie. “Are you gonna kiss me, Robby?” You asked. 

Robby’s smile pulled to one side of his face as he studied the beautiful features of your face. “My name is Michael.” He whispered and placed a sweet kiss on your forehead. “Only here.” A kiss on your cheek. “Only for you.” A kiss on your jaw. 

Your breath staggered at the sensation of his beard dragging across your soft skin. “Michael.” You tested the name on your lips. It felt intimate. It felt natural.

Robby grinned, and his teeth dragged across your skin as he finally made his way to your lips. Your mouth opened immediately to welcome his, slipping your tongue across his bottom lip. He answered with a quiet moan and deepened the kiss by grabbing the back of your head and pulling you closer. Your arms draped around his neck, pushing your entire body against his. You both savored the simplicity of kissing, learning each other’s mouths, familiarizing yourselves with the closeness of your souls for the first time. His hand that wasn’t rooted in your hair explored the curves of your waist and back, leaving a tingling sensation wherever it wandered. 

After what felt like hours, he pulled away first but stayed close with his nose nuzzling against yours. “I’m gonna take care of you tonight. The way you deserve.” He whispered, lips ghosting over yours as he spoke. “But I have some ground rules, okay?” 

You nodded, gently scratching his beard with your fingertips. “Okay.” You agreed. 

“Number one. We can’t tell anyone at work. I don’t want anyone knowing what happens between us at home. And more importantly, I don’t want anyone questioning your judgement as a doctor because I’ve got a soft spot for you. Okay?” He pressed a kiss to your cheek when he finished. 

You closed your eyes and nodded again. “Okay.”

“Number two. You’ll always communicate what you’re feeling. What you need, what you aren’t ready for. I’ll do the same.” Another kiss on your temple. 

Another nod. “Okay.”

“And number three. Look at me, baby girl.” He tilted your chin up with a hooked finger. “Please don’t run when you see the skeletons in the closet.”

Your eyes locked with his deep brown ones that glimmered in the low light of his living room. For the first time since he brought you home, he looked timid. Like he was afraid of saying the wrong thing. Like he was terrified of fracturing the fresh connection you both made tonight.

A final nod, and you cradled his face in your hands. “I promise I won’t run.” 

And with one more kiss on the lips, smiles pressed against each other, Robby led you to his bedroom. You never let yourself imagine what his home looked like, let alone his bedroom. But it was neat and simple. No decoration aside from medical journal papers stacked high on every flat surface. 

He sat on the edge of his bed and pulled you into his lap. His lips trailed across your bare shoulder, leaving gentle kisses as his fingers delicately slid the straps of your dress down. You shivered at the light touches and pulled at his hoodie. Instead of taking it off, your silent wish, he stopped kissing your body and tilted his head up at you.

“If you want something, you have to use your words.” He demanded in a sickeningly sweet tone.

Your cheeks flushed at the commandment, and suddenly you felt powerless. “I want to feel your skin.” You begged pathetically.

Robby held your gaze as he shrugged off his hoodie, then pulled his scrub top and undershirt over his head, jostling his hair a bit. Your eyes studied his upper body. Freckles dusted his broad shoulders. His abdominal muscles were toned, but not excessively so. A couple of scars were cemented near his ribcage from hostile patient encounters. A glitter of gold lured your eyes to his sternum.

A smile melted on your face. “The Star of David.” You mumbled.

Robby tilted his head slightly. “Yeah?” He affirmed, unsure of why his pendant captivated you.

You brushed your fingertips across the metal, cool from the air. Your hands lifted the Star from his chest, inspecting it gingerly. Robby wouldn’t admit it, but in that moment, he felt like a dog on a leash from the gentle tug of his chain in your hands. And he loved it.

“I’ve always wondered what it was.” You mused to yourself. “You wear it every day.”

Robby nodded, an unconscious smile gracing his lips. “My savta gave it to me. I never take it off.” He confirmed.

“Softa?” You were unsure of the word.

“Savta.” He repeated with the utmost patience. “It means ‘grandmother’ in Hebrew.” 

You smiled and nodded as the first branch into his past formed between you. “Savta.” You repeated correctly this time. “When did she give it to you?” 

Robby brushed a strand of hair out of your eyes, thinking for a moment. “When I was about six or seven.” He answered. “It’s older than you.” He added with a wink, but couldn’t hold back his grin.

You giggled and threw your arms around his shoulders. And he laughed. Not like the sarcastic ones you heard at work when he was exasperated, but one full of heartfelt joy. The sound was so beautiful that it nearly brought tears to your eyes. His mouth found yours again, and you fell back into the waltz of lips.

His fingers grasped the zipper of your dress and lazily pulled it down, unsheathing your upper body from the silky fabric. Your chest became exposed to the frigid air of his home, and your skin tightened at the temperature.

Robby pulled away to analyze your newly exposed skin. Your breasts hung perfectly from your chest, and his absent-minded hand cupped one of them, massaging gently.

“So beautiful.” He murmured as his lips returned to your upper body, slowly moving his way down.

His mouth latched onto one of your nipples, pulling back with suction until a loud smack from his lips filled the air as your breast recoiled into place. You moaned at the sensation, digging your fingers into his scalp. He continued to the other breast, giving it the same treatment. Suck and smack. Then, he dragged his tongue across your nipple, rough tastebuds scraping smoothly against it. While he worked on one with his mouth, he used his fingers to tweak and tug at the other. You let out a squeal of delight, and Robby couldn’t help but chuckle.

“That feel good?” He asked before latching onto your breast again.

You shivered at intense pressure on your breasts. “Feels so good.” You mumbled.

Just when you thought the sensation had maxed out, the unmistakable hardness of teeth grazed across your nipples, and an involuntary scream left your vocal cords. The mix of pain and pleasure wasn’t new to you, but it had never felt this good. Robby looked up to you with those innocent brown eyes, teeth still clenched around your sensitive bud. With his gaze locked on yours, he relieved the pressure of his teeth, your skin snapping back to its configuration. 

“Michael!” You shrieked, and your shrillness only encouraged him to follow suit for the other nipple. 

Surely, by now, your fingernails had dug their graves within his scalp. But Robby relished the feeling of your oversensitivity inflicting pain of his own. With confidence, he trailed his hand down your waist, your hip, and to the slit in your dress. The very opening that taunted him at the bar, daring him to brush against your thigh in public. But when his fingers reached up, up, up to your hip line, he froze.

You furrowed your brow at the halt in momentum, and you looked to his face. He stared back at you, face suddenly unreadable. 

“You don’t-” He began, but he paused to take in a deep breath. “You don’t have anything on under the dress?” 

You studied his face, trying to understand what his angle was. Of course, you weren’t wearing panties. It was a silk dress, and any kind of…oh.

Oh.

You finally felt like you had the high ground again. An involuntary smirk found its way to your lips. “No.” You answered innocently.

Robby’s chest puffed out, and a primal, vicious jealousy coarsed through his veins for the second time tonight. The very notion that you went garmentless for your date with Matteo reinforced his mission to treat you better than that boyish nurse would have.

“You only do that for me from now on. You understand?” He growled in your ear.

The dominance made your spine feel weak, and you nodded. “Yeah.” You breathed.

Robby fisted your hair, forcing your face to meet his eyes. The same ones you often saw at work when he was reaching his maximum level of fury. “You can answer better than that.” He said.

Fuck, he was sexy when he was pissed. “Yes, sir.” You corrected yourself.

“That’s what I thought.” He relented, finally letting his fingers move under your dress again.

Rough, calloused pads brushed against your pelvis, moving down until they slipped against your weeping pussy. The sound that fell from Robby’s lips was unholy but heavenly as he collected your wetness on his fingertips, and your hips ground against them subconsciously.

You felt tears sting your eyes as the burning desire to be filled with some part of his body grew stronger. “Michael, please.” You begged.

Once again, Robby’s eyes locked on yours, and the desperation in his face gave you some hope. His index finger swirled around your external anatomy, collecting lubrication, before plunging into your pussy. And just that one, long finger was enough to draw a scream from you. A smug smile slithered across his face as he curled his finger inside you, pressing his fingerprint against your gummy walls.

“Think you can handle another one?” He cooed, pressing a kiss to your collarbone.

Your hand clenched around his bicep, feeling the muscles ripple underneath his skin as he fingered you. “Yes, please.” You begged.

Robby deftly inserted his middle finger, curling it in tandem with his index. The stretch was pleasant, and the added finger reached even farther inside you. You buried your face in the crook of his neck, letting out a string of shredded moans. “That’s my good girl.” He whispered in praise as he continued to pump his wrist.

Finally, once you adjusted to the width of his fingers, you formed a coherent statement. “Can you please fuck me?” You pleaded.

Robby’s smile wasn’t one of agreement but one that mirrored a parent admiring a child’s innocence. “Oh, sweetheart, we’ll get there.” He assured you.

His hand movements stopped, and he withdrew his fingers from your pussy, leaving you uncomfortably empty. He raised his fingers to his line of vision. Your wetness formed slick webs between his two fingers, and he studied it like a new scientific discovery. Then his tongue tore apart the webs, devouring every drop.

Watching him consume your juices with such fervor sent an involuntary pulse to your pussy, foreshadowing his next steps.

“You taste so fucking good.” He growled, pulling his large fingers from his mouth once he sucked them clean. “Stand up for me.” He ordered.

Knees trembling, you rose to your feet, trying to balance yourself in your heels. Robby held you by your ribcage, letting your dress fall to the floor and pool at your ankles, revealing your fully naked body to him. After sitting you back down on the bed, he knelt on the hardwood floor of his bedroom and delicately removed your heels like you were a reverse Cinderella. This level of care overwhelmed you, but you didn’t know whether to laugh or cry.

Robby positioned himself between your legs, initiating a trail of hot, open-mouthed kisses beginning at your ankle, moving up to your knee, then your inner thigh. He could feel the furnace heat of your pussy on his nose as he inched closer to your opening. Your knees hung over his shoulders, his hands finding purchase on the outside of your thighs. Then, without a warning, he engulfed your entire womanhood in his mouth, pulling back dangerously slow to create suction. The scream from your throat rivaled that of a psychiatric patient waiting for a room in the Pitt.

The overwhelmed tears from your eyes finally streaked down your temples as your back arched and head tilted back at his magical tongue. You repeated his name over and over and over, and his only answer came in deep grunts, the vibrations adding an unfamiliar sensation to your building orgasm.

His tongue expertly manuevered inside your pussy like a ship on treacherous waters. Every lick, suck, and nibble drove you farther from sanity. And when his thumb reached up to spiral around your delicate clit? Then you only had seconds until you spilled juices inside his mouth.

“Michael, I’m-” Your voice staggered, trying to focus on circling your release. “I’m gonna-”

Your first orgasm came in a tsunami, splashing juices into Robby’s mouth, which he gratefully lapped up like it was an oasis in a desert. Your thighs had clenched around his neck like a boa constrictor, but he had anticipated your release based on the pulsing of your walls around his tongue. 

As you came down from your high, Robby kissed back up your body, whispering praises like “that’s my girl” and “so fucking good for me.” When he reached your face and your eyes could focus again, you saw his beard glistening with your cum.

You grasped the back of his neck and pulled him close in a kiss, tasting your own salty flavor. “You’re really good at that.” You mumbled, breath still faltering from your high.

Robby chuckled, dragging his nose against yours. “It’s easy when you taste like fucking candy.” He confessed.

Your legs wrapped around his waist, and for the first time in a long time, you realized he still had his scrub cargo pants on. Suddenly, you felt a surge of energy.

“Take off your pants.” You demanded.

Robby pulled away from your shared intimacy with a raised eyebrow. “Excuse me?” He asked in the same tone he used in a patient’s room when a junior resident defied him.

Your eyes narrowed, darker than they had been before. “Take off. Your pants.” You broke it down for him.

Robby didn’t know how to handle the change in dynamics. He had been in control in every sexual encounter he ever had since his virginity was lost in college. While he didn’t want to yield, something about the tone in your voice was compelling him to reach for his belt. He stood up straight, leisurely reached for the buckle, and tugged, letting the leather slither from around his waist. You sat up on the bed, watching him undress for you in the lamp-glow of the room with a similar view of power that he had once given you a few minutes ago.

Robby unfastened his cargo scrub bottoms and shucked them off, leaving only his grey boxer-briefs, stained with a pool of precum. You marveled at the man in front of you for the first time. His body was exactly what you imagined in your late-night fantasies. Six foot one, muscled appropriately, and…

Actually, you hadn’t imagined that. His cock bulging from his boxer-briefs, threatening to shred through the fabric. Much larger than you had pictured based on his height and weight, which was already pretty large.

His hand unconsciously massaged his aching dick, and that brought you back to reality. You tilted your head, crossing your ankles over the edge of the bed. “Why are you touching yourself?” You asked, sitting closer to the edge of the bed. “My mouth is right here.”

Robby’s eyes widened slightly, even though he had plenty of blowjobs in his lifetime. But something about your tone excited him. That you were eager to suck him off. You reached a hand out and snatched the waistband of his boxer-briefs, reeling him closer. Then, in one swift motion, you pulled them down, and his cock sprang out, nearly smacking your jaw.

Fucking glorious. Cut, veined, thick, and tilting down from the sheer weight. Your mouth watered at the sight, and your pussy clenched in preparation for later. You wrapped your hand around his cock, barely fitting your grasp, and brushed the tip of your tongue across the head. Robby grasped the back of his neck with both hands, groaning at the lightest touch. You licked up the pearls of his precum, indulging in the salty appetizer. Your moans of delight and its resonance sent a shiver up his spine. He grasped a fistful of your hair to ground himself.

“Listen, kid, I’m not gonna be able to last very long if you keep-” He began.

But you cut him off by plunging down his length with your mouth until your nose was snug against his pelvis. The yell he let out was visceral and animalistic. You half expected him to yank at your hair, but instead he pushed you deeper. Your throat stretched with his length, surely bruising your soft palette. You pulled away, mouth watering even more from the gag reflex. 

Robby whispered your name, but you sunk down on him again, drawing another carnal scream from his vocal cords. This time, you remained in place, letting him feel with his free hand the stretch in your esophagus from his cock. He pulled away this time, refusing to let himself come in your mouth.

With impressive ease, Robby man-handled your body and tossed you up further on the bed, crawling over you until his face hovered above yours. “You can take care of me another time.” He whispered, pressing a chaste kiss on your lips. “Tonight is about you.”

Your eyes were lost in his again, and for a moment, neither of you moved. But in that moment of peace, you felt a dangerous vulnerability. Your brows furrowed, holding back unexpected tears. “This isn’t a one-night stand, right?” You whispered.

Robb’s face softened, almost to sadness that he hadn’t already convinced you otherwise. With one elbow propping him above your body, he used his free hand to brush some disheveled strands of hair from your face. “Listen to me.” He ordered with the same authority he used in the hospital. “I told you I can’t do casual hookups. I meant that. This is something that I’ve wanted for an embarrassingly long time. I’m right here, right now. And I will be right here tomorrow.” He continued. “And the next day.” He pressed a kiss to your collarbone. “And the next day.” A kiss to your neck. “And the ne-”

You cut him off with a cheerful kiss, smiling against his lips. Robby let his body press heavier against yours in the moment of innocent love, although you wouldn’t say that out loud for another couple of months. “Michael.” You breathed against his mouth.

He hummed in response, moving his lips down your jaw, tempted to leave territorial marks on your neck for the rest of the Pitt staff to see. You grabbed his face so his eyes met yours again, forcing the connection. “I am begging you. Please fuck me.” You whispered.

Robby finally gave in, deciding he had worshipped you long enough for tonight. With a nod, he reached down and lined his cock up to your entrance, The tip nudged against your threshold, and you gave him a nod of confirmation. Slowly, every inch of him buried deeper, deeper inside you. The stretch of your pussy was paralyzing, and you couldn’t make a sound despite your open mouth.

Once he sank all the way, maxing out at the hilt, he gave a pathetic grunt. “Oh, fucking hell.” He breathed, unable to move from the overpowering tightness of your walls.

For a minute, you both remained still to adjust to each other. Tears welled in your eyes again at the overexpansion of your pussy. Then he began to move. In and out. In and out. A slow, molasses pace to start out. Your breaths were heavy to adjust to his unprecedented size, and his breaths staggered to hold his orgasm back from your tightness. But as he continued to move, you eventually began to meet him in the middle. 

Vulgar squelching sounds of your sopping wet pussy meeting the wall of his firm pelvis filled the bedroom. His hips pistoned into yours, the pace becoming steadier and controlled. His eyes never left your face, which scrunched in ecstasy and bliss. He wished he could save that image forever. 

There were other positions he wanted to fuck you in. On your knees in his bed, ass in the air. Against the wall of an on-call room. In the backseat of his truck on a hiking trip. Riding him reverse cowgirl on his living room couch. But right now was for both of you. For the months of stolen glances at each other in the Pitt, lingering hands while trading CPR positions, hopeful wishes that the other showed up on a random night shift assignment.

Robby dropped his head to capture your lips as he railed into you. Gratefully, you returned the kiss, grasping the short strands of hair on the back of his head. His Star of David pendant slapped against your chin over and over and over. “Michael.” You whispered in the same cadence that alerted your first orgasm.

He nodded, reaching down to your clit again to work you through the next release. “That’s right. I can feel you getting ready.” He guided, circling your sensitive spot again and again. “Come for me one more time.” He pleaded.

It didn’t take much for your high to snap again. Your walls clenched around his cock, soaking it further. Robby grunted at each squeeze of your pussy, hips becoming weaker as he neared his own climax. 

“I’m almost there.” He breathed. “Where do you want me?”

Your eyes snapped open through your dazed bliss, and your legs wrapped around his waist. “Inside me. Please, Michael. I want to feel you.” You pleaded.

That was all Robby needed to hear. A few more vulnerable grunts, and he erupted inside you. Each hot rope of cum was an unusual sensation. He was the first person you allowed to come inside you, let alone beg. He collapsed on top of you, chest heaving. Your hand lazily ran through his sweat-soaked hair. 

“I’ve wanted that for a long time.” You admitted, rubbing circles with your other hand on his slippery back.

Robby pressed a gentle kiss to your dewy chest. “Me too.” He agreed.

For a few minutes longer, while your vitals returned to normal, there was peace and quiet for the first time that night. Just exhausted bodies clinging together, enjoying the silence in each other’s presence.

Finally, Robby sat up. “Wait here.” He instructed before heading to his bathroom. You heard the shower start, and he emerged with a dampened wash cloth. 

He sat on the edge of his bed, dark hair slack against his forehead from sweat. He cleaned you up with the cloth, making sure nothing was left behind. Then, he placed a hand to the side of your face, cradling it. “Let’s shower and go to bed, okay?” He whispered,

You agreed and followed him to the bathroom. You both reveled in the warmth of the shower, washing each other and kissing until the water turned icy cold. Robby supplied you with a fluffy towel to dry off with, a New Orleans t-shirt, and a pair of his boxer briefs as pajama pants. Once you both settled into his bed again, he pulled you close. Closer than any man had ever held you at night.

“Gotta work tomorrow?” He mumbled against your wet hair.

You shook your head. “No. Seven on, seven off.” You whispered. “What about you?”

“Nope. Seven on, seven off.” He replied.

And with the next week off, you both had plenty of opportunity to make up for lost time.

--

A/N: This ended up being a 6.2k word fic that I wrote after having some wine. This was definitely NOT proofread, but I did my best! I enjoyed writing this so much. I love Michael Robinavitch with my whole heart.

[ilariyalavorowrites]

Bright Lights

Warnings: Angst with a happy ending, Hurt/Comfort, post-divorce healing, Pitt Fest is a warning of its own, medical inaccuracies.

Pairings: Michael Robinavitch x Reader

Word count:  2.5k

Universe: The Pitt

Reader gender: Female

Tagged: @questionably-intelligent69 , @dizzybee03 , @virgomillie , @mrsjosephmazzello , @sus-styles , @moonshooter , @hagarsays @that-sarcastic-writer

Part 1 of 4

Next

Pitt Fest was far from where you had expected to be, with your Rig parked up just behind the Medical Tent that you, Frankie, several other untrained volunteers and additional off-duty health care workers manned in a six hours on then two hours off. This was one of the many such stations dotted around the festival's grounds, yet still, you had ended up at the one closest to the main stage.

Your House, Station 42, had quickly signed up for this opportunity, alongside a few others dotted about the district, when the call went out across the airwaves. Reyes and Smith had been selected, only to pull out at the eleventh hour. This left the spot open; Frankie swiftly volunteered the two of you. She almost tripped over her feet as she darted towards Captain Valentino’s office. 

The additional pay bump was definitely a helpful incentive, but Frankie’s overly keen desire to attend in some capacity had won out. At least your day would be wildly different from the standard shift. Your mind would be occupied, forgetting about him for one day. It could be the jumping-off point you needed to finally move forward with your life and let go of any nagging residual feelings. As you checked over the supplies in the back of your Rig one last time, making sure you were full stocked for whatever this day might bring. You relaxed, maybe you would enjoy this after all, as there were allocated slots for you and Frankie to explore, eat and enjoy all of what made up Pitt Fest. 

Placing your clipboard down, you climbed out of the back of the Ambulance before slamming the doors shut. “Frankie, all the checks are done,” you called out to your partner.

“Excellent, let’s get this show on the road!”  ----------------------------------------------------------------------- 5pm Pitt Fest

The morning flew by in a blink of an eye. You had handed out more than a few dozen water bottles to a fair few people, some more noticeably stoned than others. The first aid that you had delivered had been for minor scrapes, bruises and the most noticeable had been heat exhaustion. Thankfully, they had good friends with the forethought to bring them to the medical tent as soon as they had noticed that they were flagging.

Their patient would recover; they were out of the sun, shaded by the tent, drinking fluids whilst being cooled by one of the portable fans. “I’ve retaken the temp,” Frankie said, as she stepped up beside you. “37.4, looks like they will avoid a trip to the ER this time”

“Hopefully, this will be enough of an experience,” You replied, as that had been you once upon a time. You had been that overconfident, only to later suffer the consequences hours later down the line. There had been a fair few college night outs where your adolescence brain thought it knew best. The hangovers the next morning told a completely different story.

You couldn’t help but silently chuckle at the memories of who you had once been. When you had finally decided on what you wanted to do with the rest of your life, it was then you had needed to grow up. You never once regretted the choice. Helping the injured and the sick was more of a calling than just a job. A few opportunities arose along the way, including one that was abruptly ended. Namely, your failed marriage to one Dr Michael Robinavitch.

The one bright spark that had come out of it was Jake. Your ex-husband’s sort of stepson. Robby and Jake’s mother Janey had never quite made it to the altar, but he was still involved in Jake’s life when the two of you dated what felt like many moons ago. Jake had been a small kid when you first started coming round, yet his devilishly cheeky smile and infectious bubbly nature bowled you over. So when your marriage broke down, it was hard to even consider not having him in your life. It felt wrong to abandon the connection that had built up with both him and his mother.

Janey had become a good friend along the way, ultimately; you had decided that you would keep them in your life. The text messages, phone calls, and weekly lunches continued. You had built a life outside the broken shards of your marriage. They were part of the family you had chosen. You could not help but smile as you thought over the moments that you might have missed if you had chosen to push them away and out of your life. It was one of the few decisions you’d never regret making. 

Marrying Michael was another. He had been a bright spark in the sea of countless bad dates. You had been the one to venture across the thin line where friendship and romance met. Yet, he had been the one to silence the whispers, choosing to kiss you publicly in the middle of the department. That sent the gossip train in overdrive as they each took turns not so subtly places bets. Was this a midlife crisis in slow motion unfolding for all the world to see? How serious was it, actually? Was it going to last longer than his last relationship? Or would you grow tired of your older man as he continued to come home a little more broken, a little more given up in the aid of others.

The post-it notes went up with varying predicts but as the days rolled into months and the first anniversary came and went. Soon, the tone started to shift and change. The odds of you walking away from him faded away, leaving room for the possibility of him proposing or you getting pregnant. It was hard not to laugh each time that you walked through the ambulance bay doors as you passed the security office window with the cork board in plain sight.

Frankie and your other colleagues had started their own game, placing bets on what the latest and most ridiculous and wildest speculation would come from this shift. There were a few rotating favourites that were simply produce of individuals have too much time on their hands. Such a wild notion that either you or Michael would invite Dr Jack Abbott to join in your relationship. You had gotten some good laughs from it.

It had never crossed your mind until you had seen that neon yellow post-it, but it was an avenue that would remain unexplored. A few late nights followed some nightmare shifts; drinks flowed and what happened next, well, that you’d never say. That would stay between you, Jack and Robby. This way, no one could weaponize it, or use it as an excuse to uncover why the marriage had failed. Communication lay at the heart of it; both you had been to blame.

As he had steadily closed more of himself off, you had not been quick enough to seize the opportunities to reach him. By the time you had pushed to make him see you, it was too late. Michael Robinavitch had slammed the door firmly shut. There had been no way back.

As you lifted your gaze up, only to find a familiar and welcomed sight mere feet away. “Jake!” You called out before you crossed the short distance, making your way over to where he was hovering at the edge of the tent. Your warm smile deepened, but quickly you remembered that in his latest message, Jake had mentioned that Robby would be with him. Dread bubbled up from within; this was going to be awkward.

A figure strides into place, slipping a hand into Jake’s, beaming from ear to ear; this was not Robby. Long dirty locks framing her soft features; maybe this was the infamous Leah that he had been casually dropping into conversations over the last several weeks. For a few moments, you all stood there in silence, waiting for someone to speak. It was far too hot to be needing your standard issue jacket, which thankfully you’d left in the Ambulance. This wasn’t what you had expected; all that fear at having to try to navigate through small talk with Michael faded away.

How do you know each other?” Leah said, as the breath that you didn’t know you were holding rushed out, leaving space for Jake to jump in. “Yes, this is my mum’s friend,” Jake answered; that was one way to be introduced, better without adding in the Ex-wife label into the mix, over complicating an already complicated situation. It was refreshing to escape being viewed through that broken lens. “This is Leah, my friend…girlfriend” You watched as Leah playfully jabbed at him after he said friend, only to swiftly correct himself.

You smiled, offering a hand out to her. She seemed like a sweet kid, from what you could gather from this brief encounter, but Jake was over the moon, floating on cloud nine as he stood beside her. You could remember when Robby looked you like Jake looked at Leah. With pure affection, joy and contentment just from being together. It warmed your heart to see him happy. Leah didn’t leave you hanging, shaking your hand. Mirroring the sentiment, you responded, “Nice to meet you as well.”

“Oh, so you’re the person Jake always mentions.” You blinked, not expecting that; he talks about you? A warm feeling bubbled up from within. That maternal love that you once you would never embrace, yet Robby had brought that into your life. The opportunity to embark on that journey from the beginning may soon disappear. Not that hadn’t chances that had burnt out before truly beginning; Michael did not know. He had not been by your side then, Jake and Janey had. 

You would count on one hand the ones you trusted with that secret. Could the stress from the divorce tipped your body over the edge? Possibly, but you’d never really an answer to what caused the miscarriage. Yet, that was not an avenue you would venture down right here and now.

 “All good” Hearing this, a smile spread across your face, the image of the kind young man he’d become filling your mind. You briefly met his gaze, realizing he’d been observing the interaction. Your smile widened, knowing the countless questions racing through Jake’s mind in a split second. You dared to tease him.

“Did you know that Jake  wanted to be a paramedic when he was younger, that or an astronaut.” You said in jest, knowing exactly how he would react. “Driving the wee woo and patching up the boo boos” You could see the redness in his cheeks in response to your words. He was trying to play it off, but Leah beat to him to the punch.

“It’s so cool that you have a doctor and paramedic in your life; I bet you get to hear the best stories;” This girl was a gift. The mere mention of Robby brings you back down; Leah was unaware of your connection to her boyfriend’s sort of step dad. Her words were untainted by malicious intent; there was an innocence wrapped around each syllable. A curiosity to know the family that Jake had, both by blood and by choice.

‘Just keep smiling, just keep smiling. Don’t break’ This has been your mantra for far too long, for each moment that his name had arisen in conversation, when remembering the good times and the funny stories where had a starring role. The pain persisted, even a year and a half after your divorce became official. It was almost two years since you had spent more than a few minutes together in the same room. 

It had to make a choice, the same one that had you kept you barely held together, by the thinnest of threads as you pulled yourself up and out of your thoughts. It had only been a fraction of a minute, a few seconds at best. Not long enough for anyone to notice that anything was wrong; you had played this hand one too many times; it had become almost like a second nature. A poor excuse for a coping mechanism, but it would do.

“You two should be off enjoying yourselves, not hanging around here unless you need anything?” You gave them a gentle push, hoping they’d go and enjoy themselves. To see, hear, and experience and make memories that they’d look back on fondly. You had been passively glancing around the tent to ensure that you hadn’t missed any new medical emergency, no matter how minor. Nothing had come through, just a few more water bottles had been passed out.

“No, we’re all good. We’re on the way to the main stage,” You nodded, listening. The band that was billed to perform next hadn’t been one that you had heard of. They were an up-and-coming act that Jake had recently discovered. You could hear the excitement as he spoke. “Good, take some water but if you need anything you know where to find me,” You replied as Frankie slid up beside you. “We’ve got a new patient” You nodded, turning back to Jake and Leah. 

“I’ll text you later Jake, Leah it was great to meet you” You said before following Frankie over to where the injured patient sat uncomfortably on a plastic chair. You smiled over your shoulder, watching as the two teenagers departed. ----------------------------------------------------------------------------5:45 pm Pitt Fest

Frankie stood on the edge of the tent, ready for her next break. She had let her friend head off first and get something to eat at that one vendor that they both had spotted on their way in. The mouthwatering aroma still lingered in her mind, her stomach growling in response to the mere memory. She was more than ready to explore all that Pitt Fest had to offer up.

Yet the series of loud popping drew Frankie back out of her thoughts; had someone just set off firecrackers this close to the main stage? If so, that was thoughtlessly reckless; there would be burns heading over shortly. Mixing alcohol and anything that even the smallest of explosive was a bad idea. The popping stopped, but bone chilling screams followed, drowning out the pulsating flow of music.

This wasn’t what she had initially concluded as another round of popping, louder and closer than before. It took a few seconds to register what was going on, as her radio sparked into life. Through the crackles of the airway, SHOTS FIRED came through as clear as day. This repeated a few times to make sure that everyone received the message.

‘Fuck,’ Frankie muttered, as she grabbed the nearest first aid kit before rushing off into the panicked crowd. In this moment, she wasn’t thinking of herself, she was thinking about the safety of the public, of her friend who had wandered unknowingly in danger.

This wasn’t how today was meant to go; far from it.

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