#dr. robinavitch

[thebirdandthebee]

Always Will | Dr. Robby (18+)

Author's Note - Smut ahead - MDNI. IMO, Dr. Robby is a big 'ol mush.

Summary: A domestic morning with Dr. Robby in your home.

Rating: 18+

You gave a quiet little mewl as you stretched upon waking up, back arching deliciously and hands bunched into fists. Exhaling, you flopped boneless onto the mattress and sighed, the faint smell of shampoo on your pillowcase creating a comfortable bubble of familiarity.

More than that, you could smell something sweet wafting up from downstairs where you could hear the tell-tale Classic Rock channel on Sirius XM playing gently.

Rolling out bed, you padded over to the closet to grab a threadbare t-shirt from the dirty laundry hamper. Pulling the plain black t-shirt with a small Penguins logo in the corner over your head, you were overcome with the scent of Robby’s cologne mixed with a trace of laundry detergent.

You snagged a clean pair of his boxers as well, stepping into them and rolling the waistband so they’d stay up on your hips. Heading down the stairs, the scent of pancakes grew stronger, as well as the sound of The Eagles.

“Morning, baby,” you murmured, stepping up behind Robby, whose thick body was parked in front of the stovetop, tending to a griddle of chocolate chip pancakes. Off to the side, a plate of bacon was already prepared along with some of the strawberries you’d picked up at the farmers market the day before. You pressed your face into the middle of his back, hands coming around to meet one another over his soft tummy.

“Morning, Sleeping Beauty,” he replied, placing one of his dinner-plate hands over yours.

“When did you get up?” You asked, hands escaping his and traveling up to his chest, pressing more closely against his body. He jerked softly as you tweaked his nipple and he was able to feel your smirk against his back.

“Come on, now,” he said, turning, and before you could register, lifting you to sit on the kitchen island behind him. “Behave,” he said, hands on your bare thighs before leaning down and slanting his mouth over yours. You relaxed into the kiss, arms coming up to rest atop his shoulders.

You knew Robby loved it when your tongue teased his – and on top of that – you could taste that he’d already sampled some of the chocolate chips.

The kiss grew more heated, and you looped your hands together behind his neck, pulling him closer so he stood between your open thighs, body pressing against yours.

“Breakfast is almost done,” he said against your lips, hands caressing your back. “Come on, don’t make me burn this batch,” he pecked the corner of your mouth gently.

Reluctantly you let him go, but not before clocking his half-hard cock in his sweatpants as he turned back to the stove. Your eyes roamed his broad back from beneath his white t-shirt, knowing he probably tossed it on just to cook. It was apparent he was not wearing boxers below his sweats.

Not five minutes later, he was setting your breakfast plate directly next to his and pulling you into his lap at the dining table to eat breakfast together.

“What do you want to do today?” He asked, “I thought we could run to Home Depot and pick up some wire to hang those frames in the den?” He asked as you both ate your pancakes – yours with twice the syrup. “Maybe we could swing through that store you like to buy some candles?”

“Stop flirting,” you grinned, leaning over to kiss the corner of his mouth. “And you love Anthropologie,” you insisted.

“It’s not bad,” he shrugged. 

You chit-chatted about nothing as you finished breakfast, working in tandem to put leftover away – mostly creating lunches for Robby to take to work that week. You gleefully held on to Robby’s back as he carried you back upstairs to get dressed for the day.

Standing in your spacious closet, Robby watched as you disrobed from his clothing, tossing the articles in his hamper. 

“You wanna pick?” You asked, nodding your head to the little closet island. One thing about Robby, he loved to pick your panties for the day. You turned your back to him, grabbing a little yellow sundress from the wall. By the time you turned back, Robby was already holding a little white bralette and panty set in his hand.

“These are new,” he noted, crossing the room and handing them to you, eyes drinking in your naked form. You stepped into the delicate cotton and lace, pulling the panties up your legs first before pulling on the bralette.

“What do you think?” You asked, modeling the set.

“Perfect,” he said, eyes roving over your body.

“Knew you’d like them,” you grinned in reply. You slid the sundress on over your head and it moved like water against your skin. You adjusted the top to hug your breasts just so before twirling for Robby.

“My beautiful girl,” his voice was low and husky. He advanced, gently turning you to face the closet island. You grinned as your hands spread out on the marble top, tilting your hips back as Robby ran his hands up your thighs. He flipped your skirt over the swell of your ass, hand sliding down the cotton of your panties to cup your pussy from behind. Your arms stretched out in front of you, resting on your elbows as his thick fingers teased your clit from over the fabric.

“Robby,” you sighed happily.

“There’s my girl,” he husked. “Nice and warm,” he said, leaning over your body.

“Give it to me, Robby,” you whined gently.

“What do you want?” He asked, finger still swirling over your clit.

“Want your cock,” you keened, back arching more as you pushed into his hand.  You bit your lip with a giddy smile as you felt him pulling the new panties to the side and the rustle of his sweatpants lowering on his thighs.

“You ask so nicely,” he complimented, teasing your pussy with the thick, wet head of his cock. 

“In Robby, put it in,” you whined, wiggling your hips gently.

“I got you, sweet girl,” he said, his tip spreading you open as he gently pushed in. The ridge of his cock popped in and you both sighed happily, feeling complete. “That’s my good girl,” he said, pushing forward until he was fully seated. “You woke up wanting this, huh?” He asked, setting a fair, even pace as he thrust into you, to which you nodded enthusiastically.

You were all to familiar with one another’s wants and needs at this point, and Robby knew your body so well. 

Your head dropped forward to hang over your collarbone as his fingers found your clit again, circling in a way that increased in pressure before letting off and starting over again.

“S’good,” you nodded, feeling boneless as his maintained his steady rhythm. 

“Want me to fill you up in these panties?” He asked, “spend the day full of me?”

You nodded again, feeling lightheaded with pleasure, sure you could feel every ridge and vein on his cock as it dragged in and out of your body.

Robby looked down, watching as the slick from your cunt was gathering in a wet ring around the base of his cock. His head dropped back with a groan as he felt the tell-tale twitching in his lower back.

“Come on, baby,” he groaned, “squeeze me tight,” he said, leaning forward and with his free hand, pressing you gently in the middle of your back so you laid flat against the closet island.  “That’s my girl,” he cooed, “that’s my good girl.”

Your face flooded with heat at his words and you came with a small, pathetic cry. You were rewarded with a flood of heat as Robby came deep inside of you.

“Fuck,” he huffed, hips still thudding forward against you as he rode out his orgasm. “Fuck that pussy is magic,” he groaned, head dropping back.

You grinned as you went slack against the counter, eyelids heavy.

“Hold on,” he murmured, gripping the base of his dick and slowly pulling out. He watched as his cum clung to your lips, some rolling into the seam of your thigh. “Give me one little push, baby,” he said, eyes transfixed as a fresh wave his of his seed pushed forth out of your still twitching hole. “That’s good, that’s good,” he said, sure his eyes were dilated. “Stay right here,” he said, leaning forward to press a kiss to the spot just below your ear.

He disappeared only for a moment to grab a warm, wet washcloth that he gingerly used to wipe you clean.

“Daddy,” you mewled making the hair on his forearms stand on edge.

“There’s my good girl,” he cooed, fixing your panties to cup your lips and return the skirt of your dress over your bottom. His hand smoothed down over your ass, standing you up once more. “Thank you, baby,” he said as you tilted your head up for another kiss, to which he complied.

“You take such good care of me,” you murmured against his lips.

“Always will.”

[navybrat817]

I have three holes, lovelies. Just saying.

[robbysreaders]

pairing: Dr. Michael "Robby" Robinavitch x f!reader warnings: not beta read, barely proof read oops word count: 3k idk what happened i started with the bar scene and then felt like it needed some lead up and here we are notes: be kind to me, i am not a writer but these doctors have awoken a monster in me.

Robby got roped into a frontline workers’ talk at a local elementary school.

Shen’s mom’s friend is the principal if some public school and somehow that’s how Robby ends up walking into a fluorescent-lit elementary school foyer the same morning Shen’s leaving for his bachelor party weekend.

“You owe me big time, buddy.” he texts Shen.

“We’re naming our firstborn Robby,” Shen fires back.

“You know I’ll hold you to that,” he replys

He walks in with AirPods in, sunglasses still on, looking a bit lost. You glance up from your clipboard and do a double take.

He pops one AirPod out just as you mutter, “Oh… you’re not Dr. John Shen.”

“Nope, I’m not. He’s on a boat somewhere. Bahamas, I think. You’ve got me instead. Dr. Michael Robinavitch. Older. Not as good-looking.” taking his sunglasses off.

“I never said that,” you say, blush creeping up your neck. “I think he must’ve told our principal and it didn’t get passed along. No worries—I’ll just update my intro slide.”

“Sorry for the switch-up,” he says, finally meeting your eyes properly, and holding the look a moment too long.

“Really, it’s fine. Come on, I’ll show you to the gym. Kids will be filing in soon. Just a quick overview of what you do, your schooling, then a few questions. You’ve got backup—a fire chief, a nurse, an EMT. You’re not on the hook for the whole thing.”

As you walk, he points to a motivational poster taped to the wall: a kitten dangling from a tree branch.

“‘Hang in there.’ Very ER-core.”

You nod, straight-faced. “It’s more for the teachers than the students.”

He chuckles.

He introduces himself to a room of squirming third to fifth graders with “So I work in a place where people try to die and I spend most of my time convincing them not to. It’s great.”

They’re hooked.

He talks about trauma bays, night shifts, a time he held someone’s heart in his hands. The kids go wild.

One kid asks if he’s famous.

Another asks if he’s seen poop.

A third says: “You look like Iron Man.”

Robby: “That’s the nicest thing anyone’s ever said to me.”

After the assembly wraps up, your work bestie sidles up to you.

“So we’re just gonna ignore that Dr. McHottie was eye fucking you the whole time?”

You don’t look up from the stack of worksheets you’re grading. “Literally no idea what you’re talking about.”

She tilts her head. “You should’ve gotten his number. Or I should have. What do you think they’d say if we just called the hospital?”

“I think it violates HIPAA.”

She shrugs. “I don’t think that you know what HIPAA is.”

You roll your eyes.

But the universe isn’t done.

Later, still riding the post-event adrenaline, you stop at the grocery store on your route home. This day earned you cake and a bottle of wine. You’re crouched down in the wine aisle, scanning for the cheapest red on the shelf, when someone clears their throat behind you.

“I think you’re better off with a white. With, uh, berry chantilly cake,” he says, peeking into your basket.

You look up. It’s him.

“An ER doctor and a sommelier? A modern renaissance man.”

“SAT words. The future’s in good hands,” he teases.

“So what’s your wine recommendation then?” you say standing up.

“Oh, I don’t know shit about wine.”

You laugh, and the silence lingers a beat too long.

“I—” “Not—” You speak at the same time.

“Ladies first,” he smiles.

“I was just going to thank you again for coming this morning. Not to show bias, but you were definitely the kids’ favorite.”

“Yeah, the heart story always kills. No pun intended.”

“Well, they had plenty of questions after you left. I told them they missed their chance.”

“I could give you my number. Y’know, in case more vital questions pop up. Or… you could use it to talk to me. Maybe even plan a time for me to take you out?”

You chuckle. “That line work on every elementary school teacher you try to pick up?”

“So far I’m one for one.”

“Not sure that’s statistically significant,” you reply, handing him your phone.

You text him your name—just your name and a smiley.

His phone starts ringing. He glances at it, then winces.

“I’m so sorry—I have to take this. Yeah… I’m just around the block. Okay. Be there in seven.” He turns to you, regret softening his expression. “Really sorry. I’ll text you later?”

“Of course, Dr. Robinavitch. Go save lives.”

”Everyone calls me Robby, or you can call me Michael” he says heading out. Just before the door closes, he glances back once more.

Later, you’re finally home. Glass of red in hand, cozy on the couch. You scroll, half-buzzed from the wine and the day, when a new text pops up:

Michael: My research says champagne’s actually the move next time—for the cake, I mean.

You grin.

You: Not a ton of room in the budget for a Thursday night champagne toast on a public school salary. Think I’ll stick to my $9 red.

You snap a selfie: you, the wine, a smirk.

Michael: Could be my treat? Next Thursday?

Followed by a link to a cozy bar you’ve been wanting to try.

Your fingers hover for only a second before typing:

You: It’s a date ❤️

You get there first.

The bar is small, dim, and full of mismatched chairs and candlelight. The kind of place where couples whisper over charcuterie. You’re nursing a glass of something bubbly, trying to look casual and not like you checked your makeup in your phone camera twelve times already.

Then the door creaks open, and there he is.

Button-down rolled at the sleeves, hair mussed just enough to look effortless—though he’d never admit it took longer than it should’ve. He spots you instantly and smiles like he doesn’t do that often. Like it caught him off guard too.

“You clean up nice,” you say as he slides into the chair across from you.

“You clean up… irresponsibly good,” he says, raising his eyebrows and making you laugh.

You clink glasses and dive straight into easy conversation. It flows, faster than either of you expected. He tells you about the time a raccoon got into the ambulance bay. You tell him about a class trip gone wrong and how a goat chased the entire third grade around a petting zoo.

There’s food—fancy grilled cheese, olives, tiny things with aioli—and more wine. You talk about work, but not too much. You learn he’s been at The Pitt longer than he planned. That he’s not from Pittsburgh, but ended up staying because… well, because.

You don’t push.

He watches you talk with his chin resting on one hand, doing that thing again—looking at you like you’re a puzzle he doesn’t mind not solving.

Midway through dessert, a berry cream tarte— the closest thing they had to the cake you bonded over a week ago— he leans in a little.

“Be honest,” he says. “What’d you actually think when I walked into the school?”

You smirk. “I thought you were a dad who got lost on his way to drop off a forgotten lunchbox.”

Robby laughs. “Brutal.”

“Okay, and also… I thought, oh no, he’s hot.”

He raises his glass. “That’s better.”

He offers you a hand to help you out of the booth and follows beside you, hand barely there at your lower back.

You’re standing outside, the city quiet in that just-past-bedtime way. There’s a light breeze and the smell of something warm from a nearby bakery.

“I had fun,” you say.

“Me too,” he replies. “Thanks for not fleeing halfway through.”

“Thanks for not turning out to be a wine snob.”

“I told you, I know nothing about wine. I was just trying to impress you. I was frantically Googling wine recommendations so i could have a reason to chat with you.”

You both laugh, and then there's a pause. A beat of quiet.

He tilts his head. “So, uh… what’s the move here?”

You step forward. “Well, you did save a lot of lives this week.”

“And you wrangled children into making a thank-you card with the word ‘trauma’ spelled wrong.”

“Tramua is the French spelling,” you deadpan.

That makes him laugh again—but softer this time.

Then he kisses you. Slow and warm, like he’s been thinking about it since the grocery store.

When you pull back, he looks at you like he wants to say something—but doesn’t.

Instead, he laces his fingers with yours.

“Did you park around here?”

“I walked. I’m only a few blocks away.”

“Can I walk you home? Make sure you get there safely.”

You smile. “Of course. It’s that way,” you say, pointing left.

He releases your hand just long enough to move to the curb side, then grabs it again without a word.

You walk in comfortable silence. That kind of quiet that doesn’t need filling.

“This is me,” you say as you reach your stoop. “I’d invite you up for a nightcap, but… it is a school night.”

Robby chuckles. “Can I kiss you again?”

You don’t answer—you just lean in. And suddenly you’re a teenager again, making out on your front porch under a flickering streetlamp.

This time, he’s the one to pull back first, forehead resting against yours. “Alright,” he murmurs. “Guess I have to be the responsible one.”

You steal a few more kisses anyway, laughing softly, before finally saying goodnight and slipping inside.

You’re curled up in bed, grading a stack of vocabulary quizzes, red pen in hand, when your phone buzzes:

Michael: Made it home. Thanks for a great night.

You: I had an amazing time. Up until I got home and got a paper cut on a stack of quizzes I need to finish before tomorrow.

Michael: Sounds serious. I can’t diagnose over text. Could I see it in person? Maybe Saturday?

You: I’d love that, but I won’t be in town—I can’t believe this didn’t come up. I leave tomorrow for an elementary STEM conference. Riveting, I know. I’ll be back Wednesday.

Michael: My schedule’s rough next week. Could you do Friday?

You: One date in and we’re already juggling calendars. I think that’s a good omen 😊

But yes—I’ll pencil you in for Friday.

Michael: Pencil? Ouch. That kind of hurts.

You: Okay, okay. Permanent marker. Color coded. Red for Robby.

Michael: That’s more like it ;)

The days go fast—seminars, lectures, hands-on demos. You barely stop moving.

But every spare second you get, you’re texting him.

Sometimes flirty. Sometimes funny. Sometimes just: Here’s what I’m eating. What about you?

It’s been a while since you’ve been in something like this. But it’s never felt this easy. And you’re really hoping he feels the same way.

Little do you know.

It’s almost time for handoff , and shockingly the ER is in a lull which gives the team time to strike an inquisition on Robby. Dana kicks it off, perched on a nurses station desk.

“Alright Robinovitch, spill”

He looks at her over his glasses, “I just finished handing off to Shen, theres nothing else to spill.”

“You’re smiling.”

“No I’m not.” he says with a frown.

“All week your face is trying so hard not to smile, it’s giving your wrinkles wrinkles.”

Shen turns from the drawer hes been rummaging in for snacks. “Wait, are we talking about how Robby’s been… weirdly chill?”

“I’m not chill.”

“You told a med student that it was alright, we all make mistakes sometimes.”

“I did not.”

“You did. I was there,” Dana grins. “Who are you?”

Robby leans back in his hair, sips his coffee. “Maybe I’m growing. Emotionally.”

Dana gasps. “Oh my God. He’s in love.”

Robby chokes slightly on his drink. “I’m sorry?”

“You’ve had your nose in your phone every free moment you’ve had.” Dana adds. “You’ve taken real breaks where you go talk on the phone in the ambulance bay.”

Robby sets his cup down, but he’s not denying it. Just smirking like someone caught red-handed.

“Alright who’s the lucky lady?”

“You don’t know her and you’ll never know her.”

Shen looks like he’s doing calculus in his head and leans in. “Wait this started when I was on my trip, oh my god, did you meet a hot mom at the elementary school?”

Robby pauses. Just long enough.

“Holy shit, I don’t owe you any more – you got your repayment a hot MILF.”

“Oh my God,” Dana says.

“Jesus Christ, she’s not a mom, she’s a teacher”.

There’s a beat of silence before Dana grins. “You know what? I love this for you.”

Robby rolls his eyes but doesn’t argue.

“Wait,” Shen says. “Does she know you’re, like, emotionally stunted?”

“She’s a 3rd grade teacher. I think she’s prepared.”

Dana hops down. “I’m gonna need details.”

“You’re not getting details.”

Friday rolls around and you’re more excited than you’ve ever been for a second date. It’s cozy and dimly lit—more plants than light fixtures, menus scribbled on chalkboards, and the faint buzz of a bar that feels like a well-kept secret.

You spot him at the bar, already seated towards the back. He’s dressed down again, but there’s something intentional about it—like someone who spent an extra minute wondering what shirt to wear.

He catches your eyes and smiles like he forgot how to do that for a while until recently.

“You’re punctual,” he says, clearly pleased.

“You’re early,” you reply, shrugging off your coat. “I was promised a perpetually late, cynical doctor.”

“Tragic. He’s been replaced by a man who googled ‘cozy date spots that don’t feel like you’re trying too hard.’”

You laugh. “And did it recommend this place?”

“Nope. Shen’s girlfriend did. Which I now realize makes this deeply traceable.”

Your eyes widen. “Wait—do they know?”

Robby sighs. “Dana cornered me in central. I didn’t confirm or deny. Shen said I was glowing. It was… a dark time.”

You smirk.

The food is good—small plates, easy to share. The conversation is even better.

He opens up, just a little—enough to mention the long hours, how emergency medicine pulls you in like a rip current, how sometimes it feels like it’s the only thing he’s really good at.

You tell him about your student who tried to fake a cough for three weeks to get out of a math test, and the tiny triumphs that feel like wins no one else sees.

He watches you talk, head tilted slightly, the corner of his mouth pulled into a lazy smile. His fingers rest near yours on the table. Not touching. Not quite.

Finally, he says, “I’ve gotta be honest—I haven’t really… done this in a while.”

“Tapas?”

He chuckles. “No, like—dating. Letting someone in. It’s easier to stay busy. Stay… guarded, I guess.”

You nod. “Well, I haven’t really dated someone who sees more blood before lunch than most people do in a year, so.”

“So we’re both out of practice.”

“Guess we’ll have to wing it.”

He leans in and kisses you. Slow. Deliberate. This one without surprise. This one because he wanted to all night.

You’ve fallen into a comfortable cadence. You see him a few times a week, more often than you thought you would, but you don't complain. You love his company.

Your schedules do still clash at times.

You planned to go home after parent-teacher conferences. Michael had already mentioned he had plans—finally joining his coworkers for a long-overdue drink after weeks of skipping out.

It doesn’t take much to convince you to meet your own colleagues for a post-conference drink. It’s been a day, and you deserve it.

But as you walk into the bar, you spot a familiar profile near the corner.

You don’t even hesitate. With a little liquid courage in hand, you stroll over and place a hand on his shoulder.

“So… they really just let anyone in here nowadays?”

Michael turns, eyes lighting up in that way that makes your stomach dip. “How’d you find me?”

“Coincidence. We needed to lick our wounds after the parent-teacher conference firing squad.”

One of the guys at the table leans toward the person next to him. “Ahhh. This is the teacher.”

Michael grins and slides his arm around your waist, his hand resting easily at your hip. “Right, where are my manners?” he says introducing you to the team.

You smile, trying not to let the arm-around-your-waist thing short-circuit your brain. “It’s so nice to meet you all. I’ll get back to my workplace complain-fest and let you return to yours.”

You squeeze his shoulder lightly, but before you step away, his hand shifts on your waist, catching your attention. He leans in and lowers his voice just for you.

“If you head out before we do… come say bye?”

You meet his eyes and nod. “Of course.”

The moment you slide into your seat, your coworkers pounce.

“What the hell was that about?”

“You don’t have friends outside of school.”

“Thanks for introducing us to your hot doctor friends???”

“Wait—HOLY SHIT, was that Dr. McHottie with his arm around your waist? Did I miss a chapter?!”

You laugh and give them the short version. You field a rapid-fire round of teasing, eye-rolls, and maybe a few not-so-subtle attempts to angle to get set up with his coworkers, but eventually the conversation drifts to who cried in the hallway today, who mispronounced “photosynthesis,” and whose turn it is to deal with the PTA bake sale disaster.

Your group starts calling it a night. Long day, longer week. You say your goodbyes and make your way back toward Michael’s table, which has thinned out significantly as well.

He stands when he sees you. “My friends couldn’t hang. I’m calling it a night too—just wanted to say bye.”

“You’re more than welcome to stay if you want another drink, honey,” Dana offers, eyes twinkling.

“Oh, I couldn’t impose—”

“You could never,” Michael says, standing and lightly touching your elbow. “What are you drinking?”

You smile. “Whatever you’re having.”

You settle in at the table. The conversation is easy, flowing from hospital horror stories to favorite dive bars to why Dana is banned from karaoke at two different establishments.

Michael returns with drinks, sliding yours to you and casually resting his hand on your thigh under the table, thumb tracing slow circles that make it a little hard to concentrate on anything Dana is saying.

You laugh, you listen, you really like his friends.

The convos come to a close and you all start heading out. You shrug on your coat, and Michael helps, fingers brushing lightly down your arm.

“Want to walk me home?”

He smile. “I’d love that.”

The conversation is light—teasing, wandering, nothing too deep. You talk about favorite childhood snacks and your worst Halloween costumes. He tells you how Jack once sliced his palm on a pineapple slicer and tried to pretend it wasn’t bleeding.

As you reach your apartment steps, you stop and turn to him.

“That was really fun,” you say, quietly. “I like your friends. I hope I didn’t make anything awkward.”

“Not at all,” he replies. “They loved you.”

“Good. Glad I passed the first big test.”

He chuckles. “Teachers and their testing.”

There’s a pause. Then: “So… want to come up?” you ask, voice soft but steady.

He hesitates, not pulling away. “I’d really like to. But I just came off a twelve-hour shift, and I’ve probably had two more drinks than I should’ve. If I sit down, I’m going to be half-asleep in seconds.”

You take his hand and start walking him toward your door.

“Then that’s settled,” you say. “Can’t have you falling asleep in the Uber.”

You open the door, letting the warm light spill into the hallway, and look back at him with a little smile.

He follows you in without another word.

You flick on the light and immediately cringe.

“Wow. Sorry. My place looks like my classroom exploded in here.”

Michael steps in behind you, taking in the scattered worksheets, the pile of books on your couch, and the half-folded laundry draped over a chair.

“You should see the trauma bay on a Tuesday,” he says, tossing his jacket over the back of a stool. “This is a spa by comparison.”

You kick aside a rogue glue stick. “I did mean to clean today, but then 30 small humans and their guardians demanded to know if their kid is ‘thriving academically’ while also asking what ‘phonics’ actually is.”

He snorts.

You pad to the kitchen and grab two glasses of water, handing one to him. “Doctor’s orders.”

He grins. “Responsible and charming.”

You sit on the couch, tucking your legs underneath you. He follows, moving slowly—like someone who’s used to being on his feet for twelve hours and finally has permission to stop.

He slouches into the other end of the couch, long legs stretched out, one arm thrown over the backrest. He takes a sip of water and closes his eyes for a second, just breathing.

“I’m gonna fall asleep right here,” he murmurs.

You smile. “Go for it. My couch has a strict no-judgment zone.”

There’s a long, easy silence after that. Not awkward—just soft.

Eventually, you get up and offer him a hand “you’re not sleeping on the couch, come on”

He reaches for your hand —warm fingers curling around yours for just a second longer than necessary.

He follows you to your room, hands still intertwined. It’s not the first time you’ve shared a bed, but it is the first time you’ve shared one without hooking up before. It all feels very intimate.

There’s a surgical precision to how he fits into your evening routine that leaves you a little breathless as you settle into bed.

“Night,” he murmurs wrapping an arm around you and nuzzling in.

You squeeze his hand once, gently. “Goodnight, Michael.”

[loveyhoneydovey]

18+ mdni, age gap and smut (this one is a little different and possibly ooc but it’s one of my fave tropes ever so i hope you enjoy it anyway. and ofc it’s a little messy)

michael robinavitch who assumed he was destined to spend the rest of his life alone. it’s not like he thought he’d be celibate till the end of his life or anything, but after a few relationships and tons of life experience, he made peace with the fact that maybe “happily ever after” wasn’t for him, that his relationships weren’t meant to last, but they brought him happiness nonetheless.

so imagine his surprise when he finds himself drunk on an impromptu vegas trip with a gorgeous giggly young thing sitting on his lap in a little corner booth, looking at him with heart eyes. the feeling that seeps through his chest combined with the quickening of his heart rate have him panicking for a brief moment, was a heart attack in the middle of a vegas club the way he’d go? he could already picture abbot standing on his grave laughing. but as you lean in closer and he gets a whiff of your perfume, (was that pistachios and cherries? his mouth was already watering), his drunk brain finally catches onto the fact that he wants to devour you. and when your hands come to rest against the roughness of his stubble so your soft lips can finally press against his chapped ones, he’s a goner.

and when he wakes up the next day it’s to the sound of soft snores and an oddly comforting weight on his chest. he looks down to find your body subconsciously wrapped around him like he’s the single most important thing in your universe. it’s not like he’s any better though, his arms are securing you tightly against him with an almost desperate grip. it takes him a second to recall the memories from the previous night. the details are slightly fuzzy, but he’s never been one to forget anything, even when drunk to point of passing out (mostly during his college days, he doesn’t think his body could take that type of abuse anymore).

so imagine his face when the moments of rough (borderline animalistic) fucking and soft tender love making come rushing back to him. when he remembers the cheshire cat like smile on your lips as you kissed and sucked on his freckled neck until you reached his grinning lips, your nipples rubbing against his hairy chest, his hands possessively gripping your ass. when he remembers being captivated by the blissed out look on your face, a look that had him puffing out his chest in pride as he kept pounding you into the hotel room mattress, your pussy gripping him like a vice, completely drenching him. when he remembers the way you reverently whispered his name over and over, while he held onto you like you were the only thing capable of bringing light into his gloomy life. not “dr. robinavitch” or “robby”, but “michael”.

and imagine his face when the most important part of last night makes it back to the surface of his mind as his eyes zero in on the glimmering rock resting on your ring finger. when the delicate whispers of you two vowing to love each other until death do you part suddenly have his chest feeling uncomfortably tight. and when the sight of your ring starts to blur with unshed tears because he swears he’d never know what peace felt like until that moment when he was in your arms last night. like nothing could get to him here, like he was safe and loved.

[popcornpoppypop]

The Need for Salt and Kindness

Summary: Olivia has POTS. She hasn't told Robby. Of course she has a flare when they're working together.

Warnings: Fainting, POTS, talk of needles, chest pain, heart palpations, headaches, blood for a glucometer.

A/N: I'm a POTS girly so I based a lot of her symptoms on what I experiences as well as some research. I also have hEDS and sometimes the symptoms bleed over. I tried to keep this sweet. Let me know what you think!

Olivia Walter knew she was in for a shitty shift when she woke and her chest felt like there was rocks in it. She had been fighting a flare-up of her POTS for a while. The first indicator for her was chest discomfort. She took her time sitting up and sipped the water next to her bed.

“Well, shit.” She sighed as she started to stand. Her head was swimming already. She started to systematically tense her leg muscles, something she had seen a reddit, to stop the dizziness.

“Eat. You have to eat.” She groaned to herself. She knew that feeding herself would help, but when she felt like she was dying, it was hard to force food in her. She settled on a Gatorade and a breakfast bar with the promise of a protein smoothie on the way to work.

She walked into the Pitt, smoothie half drunk and feeling marginally better. The place was already buzzing with too many people. She felt her fingers tingle and shook them out. Another Gatorade was needed this morning. She pulled out another bottle before throwing her things in her locker and making her way to the Hub for handover.

“You ever try just plain water?” Langdon snorted.

“You ever try minding your business?” She snapped back.

“Ouch. Who pissed in your cheerios?” Langdon rolled his eyes.  Olivia moved to stand next to Collins, leaning on the desk.

“You okay? Looks like that desk is the only thing keeping you on your feet.” Collins smirked.

“Yeah, just off today.” Olivia cleared her throat.

“Long night?” Collins raised an eyebrow.

“Long life.” Olivia laughed. Robby gave out assignments and dismissed everyone. He grabbed Olivia’s arm and pulled her to the side, out of ear shot of everyone.

“You were late this morning.” His voice laced with concern.

“I’m sorry. It won’t happen again.” She rubbed her eyes, the head was settling behind her eyes.

“No, you’re not in trouble. I’m just concerned. You seemed off when I left last night.” Robby crossed his arms, his head dipping so he could keep eye contact.

“I’m just tired. It’s been a long week. Don’t worry about me. I can keep up.” She gave a tight smile and walked off, leaving a very unconvinced Robby scratching his chin.

Olivia felt like she was moving through molasses. She did her best to keep up, but her heart palpitations were making her slow down. Robby had checked in more than once and it was starting to piss her off.

“Liv, help me with this cast?” Santos popped her head out of a room.

“Sure.” Olivia sighed. She just wanted to curl up in a ball and not move.

She sat as she helped finish the leg cast with Santos, who was making jokes at her. She couldn’t bring herself to fake a smile. Her hands kept dropping the instruments; they were shaking. She clenched them into fists, as if that would help.

“You okay?” Trintiy asked. As they finished up the cast.

“Yeah. Just so freaking tired.” Olivia mumbled.

“Dr. Walter, I want you monitoring Javadi’s laceration repair.” Dr. Robby barged in.

“Okay.” She sighed as she climbed to her feet. Her body immediately protested. Her legs felt like lead, her chest heaving with each breath. The dizziness made it feel like her eyes were rolling like a slot machine in her head.

“Dr. Walter?” Robby stopped, seeing her face grow pale.

“Mm’okay.” She mumbled.

“Why don’t you sit for a minute?” Robby took her and plopped her in a chair.

“I’m…just…” Her head rocked back and forth as she fought the syncope. “No…please…” She whined.

“Olivia, can you open your eyes?” Robby held her face in his hands as he examined her.

“Can’t…” She sighed.

“She’s going down. Get me a gurney!” Robby called out.

“Sorry.” She sighed as she lost the battle. Her body slumped forward, Robby catching her just in time.

“Shit. Liv? Liv, you gotta wake up for me.” He said, rubbing her sternum.

“Oh, shit!” Santos came running over. “She said she was just tired earlier.” She helped Robby get her on the gurney, wheeling her into a room.

“Get the glucometer, she’s probably not eaten enough.” He ordered. “Come on, Olivia. Wake up.” Robby begged as they hooked her up to the monitors.

“Stop.” Olivia groaned as she started coming around.

“Hey, easy.” Robby stopped her from sitting up. “Liv, you fainted. We need to make sure you’re okay.” His voice was softer than usual.

“I’m fine.” She pushed their hands off her.

“Olivia, you’re not.” Robby was getting stern with her now. She almost wanted to laugh.

“I have POTS. I faint. It happens. I don’t need any of this.” She sighed.

“Shit, her pulse is 112.” Donnie said as he looked at the monitor.

“Yeah. I fainted, my heart rate jumps and then it evens out. At some point.” She shrugged.

“Okay. Thank you everyone. Back to work.” Robby announced, taking the glucometer from Santos and ushering everyone out.

“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.

Olivia felt her face flush with embarrassment and frustration. She hated people seeing her sick. She hated when her boss saw her sick. She hated when her handsome boss, that she’s not-so-secretly dating, saw her sick.  She leaned over and turned the sound off on the monitor, annoyed at the sound of her heart rate as it slowed.

“Heads up.” Robby came in, tossing a sandwich to her.

“Thanks.” She caught it.

“Turkey sandwich and orange juice. Administer orally.” Robby smirked as he sat on the stool across from her, handing the juice to her.

“So funny.” She rolled her eyes as she took a bite of her sandwich.

“Eh, I try.” He shrugged.

“Try harder.” She had a hint of a smile tugging at her lips.

“Oh, I see we’re feeling better.” Robby crossed his arms. “You want to tell me why I wasn’t informed of your illness?” He raised an eyebrow.

“No one needed to know. I’ve dealt with it for years. It never stopped me from doing what I wanted. It’s never impeded my work.” Olivia straightened up, her hackles starting to raise.

“Clearly. That’s why I had to throw your ass on a gurney today.” Robby snorted.

“I didn’t need help. I would have been fine.” Olivia snapped.

“Easy. I’m just helping. It’s kind of my job.”

“Sorry. I just don’t like being babied.” She sighed.

“No one is doing that. Look, it would have been good to know so that I could recognize the signs and stop the syncope before it starts. That’s all.” Robby said.

“I woke up feeling like shit. I knew this was going to happen.” Olivia shook her head, picking at her sandwich.

“It’s not a weakness to take of yourself or let people help you do it.” Robby dipped his head so he could meet her eyes.

“You first.”

“Oh, ouch.” Robby laughed.

“I’m not accustomed to being taken care of. I’m not good at it.” Olivia shrugged.

“Yeah, me too.” Robby rubbed the back of his neck as he thought. “Look, I’m going to suggest something. Jack will be here in less than an hour, and our shift will be over. Let me take you home, help you through the flare-up.”  

“You don’t have to do that.” She sipped her orange juice, hands still shaking.

“I know. I want to.” He shrugged. Olivia watched him for a moment, as if waiting for some mask to fall from his face.

“Okay.” She sighed.

“Good. I’ll be back to check on you in a bit.” He smiled.

“I can finish the shift.” Olivia started to get to her feet, she swayed on her feet.  Robby rushed over and helped her sit back down.

“Not happening. You’re resting. Doctor’s orders.” Robby crossed his arms.

“Who listens to their doctor these days, anyway.”

“Boss’s orders.”

“No one listens to their boss. You sure as hell don’t.”

“Boyfriend's orders. Just sit your ass down and eat your sandwich.” He shook his head as he left.

Olivia sipped her juice, a smile tugging at her lips. Maybe she could learned to let herself be taken care of. A knock at the door broke her of her thoughts.

“Hey, Liv. How you doing?” Perlah’s bright face popped into the room.

“I’m okay.” Olivia smiled.

“Good. You had us worried, kid.” She came in with the IV caddy.

“Whoa, what are you doing?” Olivia sat up.

“Robby wants a catheter placed? I thought he told you.”

“Coward. No, he didn’t.”

“Said something about getting you fluids. Am I going to need the soft restraints?” Perlah cocked an eyebrow.

“No.” Olivia groaned as she flopped her arm out for Perlah.

“I’ll make quick work of it, don’t worry.”

“Should have made him do it.” Olivia snorted.

“Oh yeah, that would end well. I don’t think I’ve ever seen Robby place a catheter. Probably hasn’t since he was an intern.” Perlah laughed.

“Good point. I do prefer my veins not blown.”

“Can I ask you a question?”

“Yeah, course.” Olivia looked at her confused.

“You two are a thing, right?” Perlah taped the catheter in and leaned back on the stool.

“Oh. Um. I don’t know how to answer that.” Olivia cleared her throat.

“Don’t worry. You just did.” Perlah patted her leg and left.

“Well, shit.” Olivia sighed.

Olivia drifted off to sleep at some point. Her body was exhausted; she couldn’t fight it during flares. She felt a gentle hand on her arm, stroking up and down.

“Liv. We can go home.” Robby’s voice a gentle whisper in her ear. She groaned as she stretched.

“Okay.” She hummed as she sat up, her head swimming.

“Easy.” Robby steadied her.  “Should I get a wheelchair?”

“No. Just give me a second.” She cleared her throat. She stood, putting a brave face. Robby could see how dizzy she was.

“I’m getting a chair.” He sighed.

“Fine.” Olivia flopped back on the bed.

“You do feel like shit if you’re not fighting the wheelchair.” Robby chuckled as he left. Olivia had a few choice words for him, in her head of course.

“I left my cane at home.” She sighed as he came back in.

“I’ve never seen your cane?” Robby looked surprised.

“I keep it in my coat closet, in a corner. Most people don’t see it.” She shrugged as she got into the chair. Robby wheeled her out of the ED, many double glances followed.

“They’ll talk.” Olivia sighed. “Perlah knows.”

“Perlah knows everything. She also knows better than to say something to the wrong person.” Robby shrugged.

“Gloria will know.”

“I told Gloria after our first date.” Robby chuckled.

“What? Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I did, you were half-drunk on wine watching Love Island. I didn’t think you were that gone that you wouldn’t remember.” He helped her into the passenger seat.

“Sneaky. You’re sneaky.” Olivia sighed as she leaned her head back.

“Sure. When I need to be. Relax. Go to sleep. We’ll be home in a few minutes.” He told her as he drove off.

Olivia felt the car stop, waking her up. Her head lolled upright.

“That was fast.” She cleared her throat as she climbed out of the car. Robby ran around to the other side, hovering, waiting to catch her. She held onto his arm as they walked up to her apartment. She was always so glad she had a ground-floor apartment.

“Do you want a shower?” He asked as he put his bag on the counter.

“Need one. I stink.” She groaned.

“Do you want help?” He watched her shuffle toward her bedroom.

“No.”

“Let me rephrase. Do you need it?”

“…yes.”

“Okay. That wasn’t so hard, was it?” He smirked as he walked behind her.

“I hate you.”

“That is not what you said the other night when I made you scream so loud the neighbors called the cops.” He growled in her ear.

“Not fair!” Olivia gasped.

“Come on. Let’s get you cleaned up.” Robby laughed as he turned her shower on.

“At least shower with me. I washed the clothes you left here. It’ll be easier.” Olivia batted her eyelashes, a move she knew Robby could never say no to.

“You drive a hard bargain. Sure.” He smiled as he pulled the scrub top from her. She moved to take his off, but he pushed her hands off. “I’m taking care of you. Don’t fuss over me. I’m fine.”

“Okay.” Her voice was small. Robby finished undressing her and himself. He helped her into the shower, keeping a firm hold on her as she settled into the warmth.

Robby was soft and quick as he helped Olivia wash up. He knew she would have a small window where it felt okay before the syncope reared its ugly head.

“Ugh…Head’s swimming.” Olivia groaned.

“Okay, I got you.” Robby hummed as he rinsed the remaining suds from her skin and turned the water off. He wrapped her in a towel and sat her on the closed toilet.

“Top drawer. Pajamas are in the top drawer. Second drawer is my compression stockings.” She sighed as she took deep breaths. Robby grabbed her clothes and his and went back in.

“I knew I left my Penguins shirt somewhere.” He grumbled as he threw on his shirt and shorts.

“I wore it a couple of times.” Olivia pulled her clothes on. She struggled with her stockings.

“Let me help.” Robby took them from her.

“I haven’t been this bad in so long. I don’t know what happened.” Olivia sighed, feeling the emotions bubbling up.

“It happens. You did party pretty hard at Mohan’s birthday last weekend. Probably what did you in.” Robby got to his feet.

“Yeah. I don’t know. I need electrolytes.” She groaned as she slowly got to her feet.

“Let’s get you settled on the couch. I got fluids for you.”  Robby helped her to the couch, tucking her heated blanket around her. He left and came back in with his backpack.

“I have packets on the counter next to the sink.” Olivia grumbled as she squeezed her eyes shut, the headache pounding.

“I’m getting you hooked up and then I’m making you dinner.” Robby pulled a bag of fluids from his bag and a small stand.

“You stole from the hospital?” Olivia looked at him confused.

“Nope. You’re getting billed for the fluids. Sorry. The stand is mine. Jack liked to party hard and made me give him a banana bag at his place. Got tired of taping it to the wall.”  Robby attached the fluids to the catheter still in Olivia’s arm.

“I forgot about that thing in my arm.” She huffed.

“What do you want to eat?” Robby sat on the footstool across from her.

“Taco Bell.”

“No.”

“Yes, I want it.”

“That shit will kill you.”

“I need the salt. There is nothing filled with sodium like Taco Bell. It’s my go-to Hail Mary meal.” Olivia whined.

“Jesus. How are you still alive?” Robby rubbed his eyes.

“I’m stubborn.”

“Oh, well, yeah. Knew that.” Robby chuckled. “I’m going to make you something. Just, sit there and try not to die.” He waved her off and went to the kitchen.

Olivia flipped through her apps, not a single thing appealing to her. She moved to get up, wanting to take something for the headache.

“What are you doing?” Robby materialized out of nowhere next to her.

“Fuck! Where did you come from!?” Olivia fell back on the couch, clutching her chest.

“I’m always around. I’m all knowing.” Robby crossed his arms. “Then you’ll know that I’m getting Tylenol for my head.” She looked at him and tilted her head to emphasize her point.

“Okay.” Robby pulled a bottle of Tylenol from his pocket and handed it to her.

“There is no way you knew that.” Olivia grumbled as she poured the pills into her hand.

“Please. You’re not as hard to read as you think you are. You’ve been complaining about a headache all day.” He laughed.

“Does taking care of me just mean you get to be sassy to me all night?”

“Maybe.” Robby shrugged as he walked back into the kitchen. Olivia decided to stop fighting the need to sleep again and let the exhaustion take hold.

“Liv?” Robby’s voice shook her from her light sleep.

“Hmm? Sorry. I get so tired.” She sat up.

“Fatigue is one of the main symptoms.”

“Don’t act like you’re an expert all of a sudden.” She smirked.

“Here,” Robby shoved a plate in her face. “Not Taco Bell, but it’ll be better for you at least.”  The plate was filled with a Mexican corn and bean salad of some sort, chicken, and avocado.

“Since when do you cook?” Olivia asked as she took a bite.

“I wouldn’t call that cooking. Just throwing things in a bowl. I watch a lot of Food Network. It’s relaxing.” Robby sat next to her and started eating his plate.

“Thank you.” Olivia nudged his arm.

“Any time. You really shouldn’t eat carbs so much, by the way.” Robby said as he shoved food into his mouth. Olivia dropped her fork and stared at him.

“You weren’t complaining about my fat the other night.” She huffed.

“What? No! Oh my god! No! No, it’s the sugar.  It can cause flares! That’s what I meant.” Robby nearly choked on his food.

“Nice save.” Olivia chuckled.

“Fuck, you know how to make dinner awkward.”

“I’m not the one commenting on someone’s diet.”

“Your bag is almost done. I got another one, you think you need it?” Robby asked as he finished his meal.

“No. I think I’m okay.” Olivia sighed.

“Let me know.” Robby took their dishes to the kitchen. “I’m going to ask Jack what electrolytes he uses, his don’t have sugar in them.” He said as he walked back in. Olivia was taking deep breaths and clenching her hands into fists and releasing them. “Liv?”

“I’m going down again. I can feel it.” Her voice broke. Robby sat next to her, rubbing her shoulder.

“It’s okay. I’m going to lift your legs up, keep the blood flowing.” He put his arm under her knees and lifted them so they were just above her chest. “I’m not going anywhere. Okay?”

“I fucking hate this shit.” She cried.

“I can imagine.” Robby nodded as he used his free hand to massage her neck.

“What a mess.” She hummed, her body shaking. Her head fell back against the couch as she lost consciousness.

Robby moved her body so she was lying flat on the couch, her knees bent. He ran to the kitchen and got a cold, wet dish towel, placing it on the back of her neck. He kept his hand on her wrist, keeping track of her pulse. He ran his hands through her hair, waiting for her to wake up.

Olivia’s head slowly shook, her eyebrows furrowed. She grasped down on whatever was holding her hand. Robby’s hand, she figured.

“You’re okay. Nice and slow.” Robby murmured to her. She took a deep breath as she opened her eyes, Robby was sitting on the floor next to her.

“Sorry.” She groaned.

“Nothing to be sorry for.” Robby told her.

“You’re nice.” She sighed.

“I do my best.” He smiled, his fingers still combing her hair. “I think you need to go see your neurologist.”

“The great Dr. Michael Robinavitch admits he can’t fix a patient? Is the sky falling? You should check.” Olivia smiled.

“You’re so funny.” Robby rolled his eyes.

“I know. I’ll call in the morning.” She sighed.

“Why didn’t you tell me? Really.” Robby traced patterns on the back of her hand.

“I don’t like being treated like glass. When people find out I have a chronic illness, they treat me like glass. Or they get mean. I couldn’t bear it from you. Anyone but you.” Olivia pulled her hand from his grasp and cupped his cheek in it, running her thumb along his cheekbone.

“I’ll never be mean to you. Not on purpose.” He kissed her palm. “I know you’re an independent woman, you hate people infantilizing you. But you can let me carry the weight sometimes. You can let me take care of you, not baby you, care for you.”

“Shut up. I’m already tachycardic and you’re going to make it worse.” Olivia coughed.

“I’ll work on diluting my high levels of charm for you. We’ll monitor your intake, like the sugar.” He smirked as he leaned down to kiss her.

[docrobinavitch]

flushed & flustered

dr. robby x f!resident!reader masterlist content: 18+ mdni, sexually explicit content, age gap, swearing, jealousy words: 4.3K synopsis: no one in the ER knows you've been seeing robby except dana, but when an EMT keeps relentlessly flirting with you, it has robby losing his mind. a/n: hellooo again. i think this one pretty much speaks for itself 🤪

Robby didn’t consider himself to be a jealous man. The older he got, the more secure he felt in the relationships he chose. And with you, he felt very sure about everything. At times, it bordered on cocky how sure he was about you.

So it was both shocking and incredibly irritating to him the way it got under his skin when you laughed a little too loudly at something the EMT said to you. The same EMT who had been flirting with you for three straight shifts.

No one in the ER knew you were dating except for Dana. The two of you had decided it would just be easier that way, especially as you were still his resident. When Dana saw the way he was eying the two of you… well, it was the greatest thing that had happened to her all shift.

“You gonna kick him out or are you just gonna keep staring at him like you’re deciding where to hide the body?” Dana leaned into his shoulder.

Robby looked at her with disdain and then took the lab results she was holding out to him. He furrowed his brow as he tried to focus on what was in front of him and not the lilt of your voice.

“Repeat head CT in three hours. We can discharge if it’s clear.” Robby handed the iPad back to Dana and put his glasses back in his pocket, returning his attention to you.

You smiled and then placed a hand on the man’s forearm before walking away. Robby couldn’t stand the way his blood pressure rose. Immediately, he followed after you.

“Have a second?” He asked, but didn’t wait for your response as he steered you by the arm into an empty patient room.

You laughed as he closed the door, “What the hell is this?”

A great question. Robby had no idea what he was doing, he had simply let his annoyance drive him, and the regret immediately washed over him. He scratched the back of his head, “I just um, wanted to see about the, uh, trauma one, if surgery came down to get him yet?”

You stared at him opened mouth for a moment, “Robby, you were there when we stabilized him and when Garcia said the OR would be ready in ten minutes.”

He was already nodding while you were speaking, the tips of his ears growing red with embarrassment, or frustration. Likely both, “Right, and so did Garcia come back down to get him?”

“I don’t know,” You said slowly, “Why don’t you ask Dana?”

You started to walk around him, but he blocked the exit, “Sorry, I just, we’re okay, right?”

You narrowed your eyes at him, “We don’t do this at work. That was your rule.”

He sighed, “I know, I know—“

Dana opened the door, “Sorry to interrupt, incoming pedestrian struck in a crosswalk, five minutes out.”

They both followed Dana back out into central, Robby’s mind still on that EMT. Your laugh and your soft touch on his arm.

When the trauma came in, he watched, gloved up as you and Langdon bickered back and forth about how to best handle the internal bleeding to stabilize enough for surgery. “Langdon’s running this one,” He reminded you mildly, “His decision.”

Langdon smirked at you snidely and you rolled your eyes. When they had mostly stabilized the patient, Langdon took the opportunity to jab at you, “So, Y/N, when are you going to put that EMT out of his misery?”

Robby’s eyes shot up to Langdon and his heart rate picked up again. So he wasn’t the only one who had noticed.

You frowned, “Who? Peter?”

“Ah, Peter,” Langdon said in a mocking tone, but you looked at him blankly, “Oh, come on, the guy’s been drooling over you for like a week now. Don’t act like you haven’t noticed.”

Robby watched as you blushed. You actually blushed.

“It’s not like that, he’s just friendly.”

Langdon laughed, “Right. Sure. I mean I have never seen an EMT so thrilled to be hugging the wall for close to hours, but yeah he’s probably just friendly.” You shook your head and sighed. “Or maybe he’s a serial killer, he does watch you with more intensity than just romantic interest.”

With the patient stabilized and surgery coming in, you and Langdon started degloving, Robby following quietly behind.

“Well, it doesn’t matter anyway, because it just so happens that I’m… seeing someone.”

Robby blinked, unsure he had heard you correctly. Your face was beet red as you looked anywhere besides Langdon and Robby.

Langdon scoffed, “Since when?”

You huffed with agitation, “I don’t see how that’s any of your business, Frank. But there is nothing going on with me and Peter, okay?” Now you looked from Robby to Langdon. You had picked up on Robby’s silence, perhaps connected the dots between his conversation with you earlier and Langdon’s interrogation.

“Oh, I am not involved in this conversation,” Robby said quickly, backing away with his hands up and quickly turning away.

He should be relieved that you denied it and that you even made it a point to affirm that you were in a relationship, he was sure that addition was intended for him and not Frank.

And yet… You had blushed when Frank implied that he was flirting with you. Again, he felt ridiculous that it bothered him, but he didn’t want you blushing thinking about anyone but him.

It was so difficult to fluster you that in the beginning, he had seen it as a challenge. What could he say, where could he touch, that would bring that pink to your cheeks.

They didn’t talk about their relationship at work, it was a rule he had established early on in order to keep their resident/attending role separate. He did his best to think about you as just a resident when you were here and just his girlfriend once you stepped outside.

But boy, he was struggling with it today. Every time he saw you he wanted to pull you into a private room and remind you of all the ways you were his.

And apparently, it wasn’t just Langdon who had noticed the flirty EMT. He saw several nurses exchanging looks the next time Peter came in with another patient and made his way over to you.

“So, what’s your vice?” Peter was leaning over your workstation while you were trying to chart.

“Excuse me?” You peered at him over the top of your computer.

“You know, coffee, tea, alcohol, cigarettes… Mine’s definitely coffee, I have like, four cups a day. What’s yours?”

“Uh, I don’t know,” You shrugged, “I guess coffee.”

“Painful to watch, isn’t it?” Mohan had sidled up next to Robby.

“What?”

Mohan nodded to you and Peter, “Y/N and the sexy EMT.” Robby looked at her, eyebrows raised. “Oh, I don’t call him that, that’s what the nurses call him,” She said quickly, “Yeah, I’m just gonna go.”

Robby shook his head and sighed. He was still talking to you. Thankfully, you weren’t laughing anymore, but he was awful close to you and there was that pink tinge to your cheeks. The same pink tinge that rose to your cheeks when he whispered something dirty in your ear, or squeezed your ass in public, or cooed what a good girl you are—

He couldn’t watch this anymore. Pushing off the hub, he marched over to you.

“Sorry to interrupt,” He said, and turned to Peter, “Do you have a patient here?”

“Uh, yeah,” He jerked a thumb towards the ambulance bay, “We’re waiting for him to be admitted.”

Robby nodded, “Well I would appreciate it if you got back to monitoring your patient instead of flirting with my resident.” He said coldly.

Peter narrowed his eyes at Robby, and then looked back at you. You were definitely blushing now, pretending to be incredibly interested in charting. Finally, Peter scoffed, “Yeah, sure.” He looked back at you, “I’ll bring you a coffee next time.”

You watched him as he left and then looked up at Robby, shaking your head.

“What?” He asked, it came out sharper than he intended.

You shrugged, “Something bothering you, Dr. Robinavitch? You seem tense.”

He smirked and ran a hand over his face before leaning in closer to you, “Do you enjoy it? His attention?” He asked lowly.

“He just wanted to know if I like coffee.” You said, but seeing Robby like this was making your stomach flip and your face heat.

“Really?” He was too close, much too close, you glanced around to see if anyone had noticed— “Look at me.”

You met his gaze which was hotter than the sun. He looked like he wanted to devour you, “We don’t do this at work,” You repeated firmly, desperately.

His gaze traveled lazily to your mouth and then back up, “You didn’t seem to have an issue when it was Peter.”

You scoffed and looked away. He was going to ruin you, here, at work. You could feel your arousal pooling between your thighs already.

Robby had never been jealous. It wasn’t uncommon if he had stepped away from you for a minute for a man to try and buy you a drink. And he would casually insert himself between you, not even look at the other man, just whisk you away. But he was always so casual and indifferent about it. You had never gotten the impression that he was threatened by it.

But now, he was acting positively possessive. And while it was absolutely inappropriate timing, you found it, unfortunately, unbearably attractive.

You stood from your work station, iPad in hand, and leaned in close to his ear, “If you don’t back off, it’s going to become very clear to everyone in the ED who it is that I’ve been seeing.”

As you move to walk by him, his hand grasps your arm and pulls you back in front of him. Your eyes travel from his hand on your arm in disbelief up to his eyes that are still looking at you with unabashed desire.

“Flirt like that in front of me again, and I will do more than just make everyone wonder if we’re sleeping together.” His hand was still gripping your arm and your breathing faltered at the feel of his breath on the shell of your ear, “Understood?”

You swallowed, hard, and then smirked, “Promise?”

He gave a short chuckle and released your arm, “Don’t play games.”

You leaned in close, close enough to kiss him if you wanted. For his part, he didn’t move away, his eyes snagging on your mouth again, “Don’t threaten me.” You whispered, and then you headed to your patient.

Peter was back. His patient was finally getting admitted and of course, you were the one guiding him to the room. Robby followed a few steps back.

“So… Coffee?” Peter said. Man, was this the best game this guy had? The best the “sexy EMT” could do was ask you about coffee? Maybe Robby had nothing to worry about. “How do you take it?”

You shook your head, smirking, “Cream and sugar.”

“And do you ever… go out for coffee after a shift?”

Robby sighed audibly and your eyes shot to his before quickly looking back to Peter, “No,” You said as you all walked into the room where the patient would be staying, “With all the coffee I drink during shift, I’d never sleep if I had more after.”

Peter nodded, “What about for a drink, then?”

You chuckled nervously, the patient between all of you looking interestedly from you to Peter. Robby watched, irritated when that tell tale flush started creeping its way up your neck again.

“Dr. Y/N.” Robby interjected, “The patient, if you would be so kind? Peter, thank you for your help, we’ve got it from here.”

Peter looked from Robby to you expectantly. As if he thought you’d interject here.

When you didn’t, the fucker had the nerve to ask again, this time abandoning the pretense of it being a casual conversation, “You get off at seven, right? I could meet you later.”

You looked up at Robby first who was watching you with calculated calm. Arms crossed, rocking gently from foot to foot. You doubted anyone else would sense the level of agitation, but it was easy for you to see just how pent up and frustrated he was.

Peter and the patient both followed your gaze to Robby, and then Peter looked back at you, question in his eyes.

“I’m sorry, Peter,” You said finally, tearing your gaze away from Robby, “But I already have a date after work… with my boyfriend.”

It took everything you had not to reflexively look up at Robby at the end of your sentence, but it wouldn’t have mattered. Peter was already looking from you to Robby, rapid calculations occurring as he put together the pieces of the past day.

Finally, he gave a short breathy laugh, “No fucking way.” The flush worked its way into your cheeks, your ears, your forehead. “He’s old enough to be your dad.” Peter hissed.

That was enough for Robby. Peter wouldn’t leave, and so he’d have to excuse himself before he called security. It wasn’t like this was the first time it had been pointed out to him how young you were. He had thought about it extensively, hating himself, from the moment he realized his affection for you went far beyond that of just a mentor.

“You’ll call if you need me?” He asked, waiting for you to meet his eyes.

You nodded and watched him go, “You should go, Peter.” You started your exam on the patient until eventually, Peter gave up and left.

“I would have picked the doctor with the sad eyes, too.” The patient said in the silence and you laughed so hard you snorted.

The rest of the shift, you worried that Robby was actually upset with you. He barely spoke to you the rest of the shift and avoided being in physical proximity to you if he could help it.

When the day finally ended, you quickly packed up your things and caught him at the hub as he was getting ready to leave. He noted your presence with his eyes, but said nothing as you followed him outside.

You trailed after him like a puppy, hoping he would say something, but he didn’t. When you got to his apartment, he finally turned to you as he closed the door behind you with a hand over your shoulder.

“You never answered my question earlier.” He said softly.

“What question?” You asked, breathless from his closeness.

“If you liked his attention?”

A self satisfied smirk worked its way across your face, “No,” You said finally, shaking your head slowly and biting your lip, “I liked that his attention led to more attention from you.”

“Even though he’s… Far more age appropriate for you?”

You brought your hands up to his face, tilting your head just a bit, “I’ve told you before, your age is inconsequential to me. If anything, I find it more attractive.” He rolled his eyes at this, “I’m serious. Guys my age are arrogant and have the emotional capacity of a brick. You are… leaps and bounds ahead of them in terms of empathy.”

He huffed a laugh, “I’m not sure how not being an asshole correlates with my age.”

“Experience and wisdom and all that, yada yada, but I’m not interested in this conversation right now. You’ve been looking at me all day like…”

He raised his eyebrows, “Like what?”

You cover your face with your hands, suddenly embarrassed. Another thing you loved about Robby was that he had absolutely no trouble verbalizing what he wanted in bed or how badly he wanted you. And he loved when you did the same, but you were still hesitant. Still a little worried he would find it too much, would find it gross, or shameful. Feelings you were still working through from past relationships.

Carefully, he pushed your hands out of your face, his cocky grin greeting you immediately, “Don’t do that,” He said, his voice low, “I’ve wanted to see you blush all pretty for me all day long.”

“So you’re not mad?”

“Mad?” He laughed, “The only thing I’m mad about is that you still have your clothes on. You’ve been driving me fucking insane all day.”

“Me? Driving you insane?”

“Yeah, smiling at him, touching him, blushing for him.”

“I was not—“

“You were.” He said softly, but firmly, “And I gotta tell ya, it made me want to pull you into the bathroom and have my way with you. Really make you blush like I know you do when I’ve made such a mess of you you can hardly speak.”

Your heart rate was picking up, and with it, you were sure, your breathing, “Well, what the fuck are you waiting for then?”

He grinned and then he was kissing you, hard and hungrily, like there was an ache inside of him he couldn’t satisfy until he tasted you. His hands were in your hair, on your waist, under your scrub top, everywhere, everywhere, everywhere. Open mouthed, he stole the breath from your lungs, breathed you in greedily as a hand palmed your breast.

You couldn’t help the moan that tumbled from your throat as he gently pinched your nipple between his fingers. In response, he pushed his leg between both of yours and you gasped at the friction it created there. Wanting more of it, you ground down on his leg and were rewarded with a guttural sound from Robby.

He grabbed your jaw and pushed you slightly to give himself access to the curve of your neck where he began sucking at the sensitive skin there.

“Peter was probably wondering what you taste like all day.” He grazed his teeth against your skin, “Or how you would feel grinding down on his leg like this. So pretty when you move your hips like that.”

“Stop talking about him,” You ground out.

Robby laughed and pulled away, the loss of friction from his leg made you whine involuntarily. Mercifully, he didn’t comment on this, just took your hand and pulled gently towards the bedroom.

“For what it’s worth, I’ve been thinking about the way you taste all day.” He pushed you down onto the bed and pulled at the drawstring of your scrub pants, “The way you grind against my mouth when you’re really needy.” He’s pulled your pants and panties off in one go and crawls over you. Settling between your thighs, he pulled a leg over his shoulder.

You’re quiet, nearly holding your breath in anticipation and he looked up at you. A check in, despite everything, despite how you had made it clear you wanted him and only him all day, he hesitated. Is this okay? His eyes asked.

It was sweet of him, but you were so frustrated. You wouldn’t admit it, but when he was acting so territorial earlier today, whenever you had allowed your mind to wander, it had been to this: Robby, head between your legs, beard glistening with your slick. If he had taken more than a cursory glance at your panties when he slipped them off moments ago, the evidence of it was all over them.

Your hips bucked involuntarily, “Please?” You managed, your voice a whine, a plea.

He smiled sweetly at you and looked back down. His finger glided across your folds and you both exhaled in unison, “This all for me, baby?”

You nodded and he lazily teased your dripping entrance with a finger, “Only for you.” You said, breathless.

You didn’t have to look to know that had him grinning. Then his mouth was on you, tongue slowly licking long stripes across you that have you quietly whimpering.

You reach a hand out to stroke the back of his head and he groans into you, the vibrations making your back arch. He pulls away slightly to look at you, his fingers circling your clit as he does so, “You’re close already, aren’t you, baby?”

Your only response is to lift your hips up into his hand, a silent plea for more.

It drove him crazy when you were like this. The fact that he had barely even touched you and you were already at the precipice. One practiced movement from him, a flick of his finger or his tongue, and you were so worked up you’d tumble over the edge.

Your face was flushed and sweaty, both from the shift and now, and you looked so fucking gorgeous.

He had been looking for too long. You were whining and arching your back at his lack of attention. He suppressed a laugh, “Okay, alright, I’ll take care of you, sweetheart. Just relax.”

Slowly, he pushed a finger inside you, sighing at the way you felt around him. He would never get over how soft and warm your walls felt around him, how perfect. He lowered his mouth back onto you, sucking your clit gently into his mouth and then circling it with his tongue as his finger curled up into you.

It took only a few more seconds before you cried out and he felt your walls contracting around his finger. His cock twitched at the sensation, full and dripping in his pants.

Even in the aftershocks of your orgasm, you were already reaching for him, pulling him by the shoulder back up to your mouth where you kissed him hungrily. The taste of you still on his tongue drove you wild and you started clawing at his clothes, trying to tear them off while chasing his mouth with your own.

Robby laughed at your eagerness, “You want to feel how crazy you drove me today? You want me to fill you up until you can’t see straight, hm?”

You helped lift his shirt over his head, hands pressed against his chest before you curled a finger beneath the chain of his necklace and lightly tugged him towards you, “Please stop talking.”

He laughed against your mouth and hooked your hip over his own, his erection sliding against your slick folds.

“Fucking Christ.” He groaned as he slid over you, repeatedly teasing your entrance with his tip before pulling out.

“Robby,” You groaned in frustration, until finally he gave in, sinking into you fully, “Oh, fuck.” You sighed into his mouth and he licked into yours as he slowly moved in and out of you.

“Jesus, you feel so good.” He lifted the leg that was previously wrapped around his hip and brought it to his shoulder, turning his head slightly to press a kiss to your ankle, “Okay?”

You nodded and he leaned down, pressing your leg with him. He was so so deep now and you moaned at the sensation. He began rocking his hips, slowly at first, then faster, harder, until you were delirious with the feel of him.

“Such a good girl,” He cooed, as he continued thrusting into you, “You look so pretty like this.” Reaching between you, his fingers found your swollen clit with little effort and he circled in time with his thrusts, smiling at you when you moaned and he felt your walls begin to tighten around him.

“That’s it, baby, cum for me again like a good girl. Wanna feel you cum around me.”

You loved when he talked like this, gentle and encouraging. It was all it took to push you over the edge the second time. And while you rode it out, crying out his name as you did, you felt him release inside you as well.

The both of you were breathless as you came down, his forehead rested against yours. You caught his mouth in a sweaty kiss and he hummed into your mouth appreciatively. When you both had caught your breath, he pulled out and wordlessly stood to go to the bathroom. This was routine now, so you waited patiently, knowing he’d return. You heard the sink water running for a while, then it stopped.

Robby came back into the room, warm, wet wash cloth in hand as he smiled down at you. He quietly cleaned you up and then once he’d gotten rid of the wash cloth, laid down next to you, pulling you into him with one arm.

“We should take a shower.” He said softly, kissing the freckles on your shoulder.

You hummed, “Just a couple more minutes like this, please?”

He sighed, “Can’t say no to you.”

You huffed a laugh, “You say no to me all the time at work.”

“Yes, it’s my job to say no to you there. It’s my job to say yes to you here.”

“Ah,” You said, “Very convenient.”

He laughed and then let silence fall between you for a few moments. Then— “So, do you think Peter got the hint or do you think he’ll come with a coffee the next time?”

You laughed, “I cannot believe you are still thinking about that man.”

“You didn’t answer the question.”

You sighed, “I think he got the hint, baby.”

“Good,” He said, “Because I have a strict no violence in the workplace policy.”

You shook your head, “You are a jealous, possessive man. I had no idea.”

“I can be positively territorial if it’ll lead to more sex like this.” He said and playfully bit your shoulder, causing you to squeal, “Come on, shower time.”

[zankivich]

Good Boy - Michael "Robby" Robinavich x female reader

Summary: 3.1k Post-finale fic in which Robby comes homes from the Pitt in the aftermath of the mass casualty event. The events of the day hit him all at once until you find him in a full-blown panic attack in your bathroom.

Warnings: 18+ content. angst. panic attack. soft bdsm undertones. smut, explicit content. Hand jobs as therapy. color system. comfort.

a/n: I can't believe it took a 54 year old emotionally stunted white boy with a stethoscope to pull me from the depths of fic purgatory. But a'las....for the girlies. I missed writing for sad boys.

It's the short huffy breaths that let you into what's going on.

You heard the initial thrashing as he closed the bathroom door to put space between the two of you, but that could mean anything. Could mean Robby finally hit his limit or your often smart ass mouth for the evening. Could mean the exhaustion of the shift had caught up to him. Sometimes Robby would shuffle over the threshold with the weight of the world on his shoulders, slightly catatonic until morning. He'd come out of the bathroom with water stains on his shirt and toothpaste in his beard, missing his glasses with that let you see the depths of his eyes. 

All of that would've been normal dealing with Robby. The two of you had been at this for 5 years and even still it sometimes got to be too much – just existing as humans in the world. You'd learned to listen to the signs even when you weren't asked. Let your body rest against the hallway arch closest to the bathroom for just a few minutes, just to check in. The gasping is what clued you in. You don't hesitate anymore. It's not your style. The need to be there overwhelms you every time.

He's still in his scrubs on account of he'd only gotten home from his shift a whopping 20 minutes ago. Long enough to pace around your kitchen while you got him a beer he couldn't slow down long enough to chug. The panic had been clear on his face after all. You'd should've seen it coming from a mile away. 

His back presses against the wall, his head resting shakily between his knees. He keeps trying to force the air past his lips but the rhythm is off kilter. His hands are in fists against his shins. A west gasp echoes in the stillness of the moment and before you know it you're on your knees in front of him.

"Hey. Hey Robby it's me. I'm right here."

Your fingers slide through the thinner parts of his hair at the top spiking the strands roughly in your haste for contact. He pushes into the warmth of the touch and shrugs his shoulders uncomfortably, still not getting the air he needs.

"Robby. I need you to listen to me. Do you want me to take control right now? I need you to use your words."

His chest heaves, the hiss of his lips pulling at the air audible .

"Take it. Take it, please."

And just like that the dynamic of the two of you pulses like a static shift in the air. You cup the back of his neck and pull him in close so that your words can penetrate the sinking hole he's wading in.

"Slow it down for me. I know you're scared. But follow my breaths. You're hyperventilating."

Your free hand works to unfurl one of his fists and lies his palm at the base of your throat. You practice over exaggerating your breaths, letting the rhythm pass between you. He struggles to align himself with you. It’s one good breath for every three that are shaky. 

"It's okay. You're doing so good for me. Such a good boy."

His breath hitches at the same language that typically has a much different effect on him. But now isn't the time for shenanigans, you just need him to fucking breathe. 

And he does. Slowly between chapped lips and his hand pressed firm against your chest. He breathes out, already exhausted, and the blood pulses bright beneath his skin in unevens swatches alerting you to the extent of his panic.

Robby collapses into you and the gasp of his breath is quickly replaced with sobs that come spilling out one after the other. You work to gather him up in your arms, body shifting against porcelain as you both collapse in a heap.

" it's okay. Let it all out for me okay?"

There's a subtle tilt to your voice. One only Robby would ever notice. A bit of authority and grit - enough to say, “I'm in charge right now”. So when you voice a command it is just that. The man who still struggled to voice his opinion on restaurants was left compelled to voice his own pain. Assuming of course he had any capacity at all to stop this wall from crashing down around him. If nothing else it saves him a little embarrassment, protects his pride long enough to get him through this. 

When it’s clear he’ll live to breathe another day, you reach immediately for the jacket shoved up the length of his arms, pushing at the sleeves to start to rid him of a few layers. 

“Let’s get you into the shower. Get you warm, hmm?” 

He doesn’t push nor voice enthusiasm but he does let you move his body like a rag doll. He lifts his arms over his head for you to pull at the scrub top and under shirt. There’s some creaking in his knees when he stands to let you at his bottoms and boxer briefs. You reach for his knuckles and kiss the skin there, dry from years of alcohol-based sanitizers, hand washing and chronic glove wearing. And finally he catches your eye for the first time since you walked into the room. Tears drip following the slanted slope of his nose, drifting down across curved frown lines from years of existential dread. They’re still present, collecting unevenly in the expanse of his beared as you press a kiss to his face.. Robby is tactile on his worst days. Right now, touch is the only thing keeping him from exploding all over your bathroom. 

“I need to get the shower running okay? Just give me a few seconds. ‘Gonna take care of you, I promise.” 

He sniffles and nods working his way through another gasp of air. 

The sound of the water pelting the shower floor just slightly mutes the sounds of Robby cries, though he doesn’t let up in the time it takes to remove your own sweats from a night long forgotten. Not that it matters. You'd let him cry for hours if that’s what it took. His face has found refuge in his hands and you gently pry one off long enough to lead him into the steam of the shower. 

You park him right in front of the heavy stream - letting the warm water do its magic. It gets you a soft grunt for your efforts. You reach for the scentless soap wishing more than ever you’d stuck to your feminine wiles on the use of lavender eucalyptus and lemon blossoms in the bath department. Instead you’d let the old man swap it for more sterile options that did nothing to alleviate the tension pooling in every body part. Also bathtime should be fun. Boo.

Armed with suds you aim first for his hips inching your arms around him from behind to touch at the softness of his belly. It has its intended effect, Robby arching bowed outward like a cat in need of a tummy rub. A man’s tummy is a sensitive place after all, and you wanted nothing more than to add another point of contact to the line up.

He hiccups another tear out and lets your hands sculpt across his form fingers tightening at dense muscle hardened by another day of trauma. His arm. His back. His shoulders. His body is clinging to every ounce of emotion but the dam has finally broken.

“You’re okay now.” you whisper between feather light kisses to his spine. “You’re with me. I only want to make you feel good.” 

There’s a hidden understanding between you. You both do this thing where you let all the ugly and the pain fill you up, high functioning your way through life until it eventually chokes you (sometimes literally). It always becomes too much. It’s destined from the beginning in its failure and yet here you are. And what each of you really needs is just someone to stand there and weather through the storm beside you. To seep away a little of the humiliation of feeling things you don’t want to feel.

He can’t speak yet but lets his hand cover yours against his hip. Squeezes in thanks, alarm even. It’s bad this time. How’d it get this bad again? 

“I love you, Michael.”

Anything to pull him back into his own body, back into the present with you. Even if it’s using his government name. 

Again you earn a little eye contact as he turns his body just slightly towards you, back facing the water now.  You reach for the shampoo he keeps in your shower for those nights he oversleeps and needs to make his shift with no time to stop back home. Your toes grip firmer at the tub as you arch up to busy yourself with washing his hair. The sweet nothings don’t stop. Anything to fill this space between the two of you. Try to replace it with something good.

“You’re perfect to me, you know that? Always do exactly as you're told.” You humm in approval. “I’m so proud of you. My good, sweet boy.” 

His bottom teeth jut out in pleasure, disrupting some of the mask of his pain and his grief. It’s a start. 

Robby lets you rinse the shampoo from his hair. Doesn’t even seem to mind when you scrub your fingers through his beard with that special shampoo you got him for his birthday this year. Typically the beard is sacred. Tonight, nothing is more sacred than your hands on him. 

And when he’s all clean and you back him gently up against the corner out the way of the stream, your hands still sudsy with bubbles, all that’s on your mind is pleasure. 

Your fingers brush against the length of him with more purpose than before. He jolts ever so slightly in your arms. 

“We don’t have to. I can get you straight to bed. You’ll still be good to me.”

He shakes his head. Still doesn’t really have the words to share. But his hands loosen slightly at his sides  and he presses the faintest of kisses against your shoulder blade. It’s the most you’ll get tonight. 

You slide to your knees letting your lips first get at that jut of his hip where the water just barely mists the skin. Above you somewhere you hear a sigh, notice the broadening stance of his legs as he makes room for you. Your knees give a little creak of their own reminding you of the tenuous nature of shower blow jobs. You’d say a prayer or a hail mary but your attention is a bit diverted at the moment. 

Robby thickens in your hand with each passing moment, the sensation alone enough to get him going tonight. Or maybe it’s the need to please you through submission. If only he could be a good boy for the night, then maybe everything else wouldn’t be so impossible in the morning. Breathing wouldn’t be so impossible in the morning. Being wouldn’t be so impossible. 

When your mouth is on him it’s hard to argue the semantics of good vs. bad. Your hand is sprawled against the dip in his sternum as desperate to touch him as he is to be touched. The weight of him on your tongue. The leftover hint of soap. His thigh twitching where your shoulder rests to steady yourself. Before you can fully swallow him his hands are circling your wrists to pull you to a stop. So you do. 

His voice comes out rough, hoarse from panic and tears. 

“Can you just please come up here. I want – want to be close to you” 

He helps you stand, opens his arms so you can step into them, and quickly rests his damp head against your shoulder. It’s certainly easier for your knees. And you’d never say no to the way his chest feels pressed against yours. 

“It got bad . . . I got bad today.” He admits slowly. “I let people down.” 

“I understand. It got to be too much. You got overwhelmed.” 

He nodded gravely. “Fucked up. I’m a fuck up.” 

You pause trying to parse through the last couple of minutes. Nothing with Robby is ever linear and sometimes you have to go backwards to piece it all together.  His hard on pokes against the base of your belly and he shifts to put space between you. You let out a sigh of your own. 

“Are you saying . . . that you aren’t worthy of this? You don’t want me to take care of you?” 

It’s important not to put words in his mouth. You play back what you hear but you’ve gotta let him paint the picture. 

“I’m saying . . . I don’t want you wasting your time on something that can’t be fixed.” 

Great so full blown nihilism would be the flavor of tonight's festivities. 

“Mhm. Color?” 

Robby paused. 

“I need to hear your color Robby.” 

“...Green. It’s green.” 

“Good. So tonight you’re not making decisions on how I spend my time. I am making the decisions. Is that still okay with you?”

He lowers his head but nods. 

“Need to hear you.” 

“It’s okay with me.” 

“Good boy.” 

You reach for the lube that also remains conveniently organized within your shower because the two of you are nothing if not organized. You lean back just enough to slide your hand in-between you and wrap your fingers around the head. The world gets a little quieter and his hands find their way to your hips, eyes scrunched closed. 

“Look at me.” 

His cheeks are blotchy which could be the shower or could be his body’s natural insistence on betraying him in times of anything remotely intimitate. You reach to cradle the swell of his balls massaging gently at the skin. His face lights up at the contact. Bodily reactions it is. 

“I love you. I’ll love you tomorrow and the day after that and the day after that. No matter what happens at work. Just let me show you that.” 

The swollen head peaks out of your fist the more you work him over and Robby starts to make the kind of sounds you can get behind. Broken whimpers, shuddering breaths (the good kind), and your name whenever you get the combination of stroke and tug just right. The best part is when he digs his teeth into your shoulder to try and silence himself as if that’s an option. 

“Uh uhh. I need to hear you. Please? I wanna listen to you come apart for me.” 

“Jesus Christ.” 

“Not this time. Just lil’ ole me.” You grin. 

Was there science to suggest an orgasm immediately after a panic attack was clinically proven to return one to homeostasis? Who knows, you were too busy making your boyfriend cum. 

“Please, I–I’m close.” 

You feel a puff of breath against your neck as he ruts his hips trying to get closer to your hand. You couldn’t help but notice how good pleasure looked on Robby. The smile lines tightening in the corner of his eyes. And the way his cheeks puff when he’s struggling to keep himself whole, when all you want is the opposite. Want to make him splinter in his release. It’s fucking gorgeous if you did say so yourself. 

You let go of his balls and dipped backwards towards his perineum thankful to be with a man secure enough if his sexuality to make space for exploration. You place your thumb against the space there, rubbing with increasing pressure while you pump at the head. His arms shoot out to ground himself against the wall and you smile as you watch him tip delightfully over the edge. 

His orgasm comes just as quickly, the last of the panic washing out of him finally until he’s sobbing for a new reason all together.

“Beautiful, you know that? You’re fucking beautiful to me.” You assure him

The water washes away the remnants of the session and it gives you the space to kiss him softly for the first time tonight. His breaths are finally even and his heartbeat calm. It’s all you really wanted since you walked through the door. 

There’s fluffy towels on wet shoulder blades and forehead kisses in the hallway. You ease him back against your bed and he lets you take a moment to stare at him unabashedly at him boneless and sated against your sheets. 

There’s much to say, hopefully some healing to do. But tonight this is enough. Just the two of you here together sharing in each other’s comfort. 

“Thank you.” He mumbles against your chest all wrapped up tight in your arms. 

It's both a protection thing in making him feel surrounded by warmth and affection and all things good. It's also a bit of reinforcements so you know he won't go padding around the house working himself up again. Not your first time at the rodeo.

“You’re welcome. Go to sleep. We can figure it out tomorrow. Together.” 

“M’kay”

The End.

[nixandtonic]

He's essentially telling Perlah that they should take pride, joy, and purpose from the little things that they can do. To own both failures and successes as little things that they can control in the midst of an uncontrollable world.

And yet......

s1x 10

I do not know how Dana does this every day

[noiamexhausted02]

I think since Abbot works nights he gets majority of the GenZ nurses so he starts picking up on some of the phrases (after they explain what they mean)

Example:

Abbot: *really mad* I’m about to crash out

*Robby genuinely thinking he’s going into cardiac arrest*

[smiteswrites]

Okay, hear me out… Robby with a partner who has a hard time orgasming (because I need to feel seen, and hopefully y’all do too). MDNI 18+!!!

a/n: I know we all love a good smutty fic where the reader gets to cum like three times, but let’s be honest, that is not reality for most people. I need some representation for those of us who live the antidepressant lifestyle. I know I asked about Robby/Michael, but something about this felt like a 'Robby' fic (idk). Next time I write about this man we will go with Michael, pinky promise. Wrote this after working a 50 hour week and did not revise it. Also haven't written smut in literal years. You have been warned.

In recent years, getting yourself to orgasm has become a challenge. Sure, you can get there on your own with some patience and a trusty vibrator, but it takes time. And sometimes being with a partner, especially a new one, means you don’t really want them trying to get you there for forty fucking minutes. So, when you and Robby start seeing each other you don't exactly fake it, but you don’t let him focus his attention on you for long before you turn the tables and start pleasuring him. 

But Robby isn’t stupid, and he needs to know you’re enjoying yourself as much as he is. So, a handful of times into sleeping together, he finds himself in a familiar position: dressed in only his briefs, lying sprawled out on his stomach, head between your open legs, putting his mouth to good use. You’d be lying if you said it didn’t feel fucking amazing. His beard scratches at your inner thighs and below your entrance as he uses his tongue to steadily lap at your clit. The pressure and rhythm he's giving you is enough to make pleasure burn low in your pelvis; you can’t help but rock your hips into his face, using your grip in his hair as leverage to make sure he keeps his tongue right fucking there. 

Robby can feel the urgency in the way you’re pulling his face impossibly closer. He knows damn well that you haven’t cum for him in any of your previous times together, he’s had over thirty years of experience with women, not to mention he’s a fucking doctor, he knows what an orgasm looks like (and sounds and tastes and feels like). He can tell each time you give up and move the focus away from your own pleasure, trying to distract him. This time though, he isn’t stopping until he gets what he wants. He moves his hands from where they rest passively on your thighs, one going to grip your hip and anchor you to him, the other coming to rest flat and warm on your lower stomach. You let out a moan at the feeling of his palm on your stomach, the feeling in your pelvis has grown into something that feels more tangible. So much so, that your legs begin to shake with it and you think you might actually cum this time. Robby thinks so too, feeling your thighs trembling on either side of his head. He groans softly into you, and chooses this moment to push down on your belly. 

You jolt your head up in surprise, grip tightening on his head. “Fuck, Robby that feels good.” 

He moans again in response, and thanks to your more upright position you catch his hips rolling into the mattress. Dutiful as ever, he continues applying pressure with his palm and doubles down with his tongue, pushing himself to go faster, harder, anything to feel you cum on his face. 

You’ve moved to be fully sitting up now, one hand behind you for support and the other firmly anchored in his hair. You grind your hips almost frantically, sweat beginning to collect on your face and neck, chasing an orgasm that is so close you can taste it. 

“Oh,” you huff out followed by a hum that borders on whiny, “I think ‘m getting close.” Your teeth grit around the words, body tensing up in its pursuit of pleasure. 

Robby opens his eyes to peer up at you. Your head has lolled back, eyes squeezed shut, your mouth now hangs open on a silent moan. Your clit has gotten more swollen than he thought it could and he can feel you getting wetter by the second, it’s practically dripping off his chin. You are so close, so nearly there. 

And yet… 

“Fuck,” you whine out, and not in a good way. Your hips stop their movement, thighs no longer shaking with pleasure. Robby slows his ministrations and watches as you flop onto your back once more, arms coming to rest over your face, pout evident on your lips.

With a grunt, he pulls himself up and crawls to lay beside you. 

“Sweetheart, can you look at me?” He places a hand on one of your arms, tugging gently to remove it, only to be met with firm resistance. 

“No.” 

“Please?” 

You let out a sigh and allow him to move your arms off of your face. He pulls the one between you into his chest, interlacing your fingers with his. 

Still refusing to look at him, you stare straight ahead at the ceiling. This close, Robby can see the tears of frustration welling up in your eyes. Your face is flushed, now from a mixture of embarrassment and exertion. 

When you remain silent and continue to avoid his gaze Robby prompts you further. 

“You’re okay, nothing to be embarrassed about,” his thumb rubs soothingly along the back of your hand, “All I want is to make you feel good, sweetheart. But, I can’t do that if you don’t talk to me about what's going on.” 

Your eyes close tightly, tears finally spilling over and running down your cheeks as you nod in agreement. After a moment you open them again and finally turn to face him. 

“I’m sorry,” you whisper softly, eyes darting between his own. You elaborate a few moments later: “for not communicating.” 

“It’s okay, what’s important is we’re talking now. Yeah?” 

“Yeah,” you nod. 

Robby waits, prepared to begin asking you questions in a diagnostic manner if you don’t speak up, but is pleased when you begin without prodding. 

“I- uhm,” a pause, “It takes a lot for me to uh- finish, most of the time.” 

He hums in acknowledgment, scooting closer and pulling you into a quasi embrace, hand draped over your waist. 

“Can you tell me what ‘a lot’ looks like for you?” Your eyes meet his again, unsure. 

His voice is low, almost gravelly, “When you touch yourself, what do you like? How do you make yourself cum?”

He asks with genuine interest in learning how best to please you, but his manner of speaking makes you feel suddenly hot as your thighs squeezing together. Robby doesn’t miss it. 

“I use my fingers mostly… but I have a vibrator too that I like. Mostly it just takes a really long time.” 

“I need you to listen to me very carefully,” he waits for your nod of assent, “There is nothing I would rather do than take my time making you feel good.” 

Feeling at a loss for words, a small ‘okay’ escapes you. 

“Good. Now, how about we try again and you tell me what you need from me, and we’ll go for as long as you want to. I would happily go all night without getting off if it meant I got to see you cum for me.” 

A smile grows on his face as he speaks, the tone shifting from serious to playful once more. You mirror his energy, grinning as you respond, “That sounds really fucking nice.” 

-

Forty seven minutes later (after Robby had all but tackled you into the bed for a solid makeout sesh and used his mouth once more to warm you back up) you find yourself perched on his lap, cock snug inside you. Robby sits with his back against the headboard, hands on your hips to guide the steady rock of your hips into his own. You have a tight grip on one of his shoulders to steady yourself, and an even tighter grip on the vibrator that you had sheepishly produced from the bedside drawer. 

“Come on baby, you’re doing so good for me, take whatever you need,” he encourages, voice rough with his own pleasure. 

“Feels really good, Robby,” you moan, resting your forehead against his as your hips pick up speed. 

Robby rolls his own up to meet yours, feeling you start to clench around him periodically. 

“I know it does, can feel you gettin’ all tight on me,” he laughs and all you can do is moan weakly in response. “Turn up the vibrator, you can take it sweetheart.” 

He feels you almost shake your head no to his request, before giving in and increasing the speed. 

“Oh- oh shit,” the effect is instant, your cunt feels so wet and warm as it grips him somehow tighter. Robby can feel his control starting to slip, and despite his earlier promise he knows he won’t last forever like this. Oh shit indeed.

“Feel so good around me. Tell me what you need, baby. Please,” He begs. 

“Talk to me? Please, Robby ‘m so close, just wanna know I’m being good for you.” 

“I got you baby, we’ll get you there. Me and that vibrator,” you both laugh at his comment, but Robby doesn’t lose focus for a second, using his grip to maintain your rhythm. “You’re doing so good, keep riding me just like this.” 

Nodding, you can feel the tell tale signs of your orgasm starting to creep in. The relentless buzzing at your clit coupled with Robby’s assistance in rolling your hips back and forth have you barreling towards the edge. 

“Yeah, that’s it. Just let it happen baby you’re right there, gripping me so fucking tight.” 

Your movements start to grow erratic, hips beginning to lock up. 

Robby reaches down and places his thumb over yours where it rests on the “up” button. 

“Gonna look so pretty coming on my cock, such a good girl,” he presses his thumb down. 

It comes on fast and strong. Your core is tightening as your back curves, your hips go dead still and lift ever so slightly as you shake on top of him. “Robby, please,” it comes out as a pitiful whine, begging him for something, anything, even as your orgasm is ripping through you. 

“Fuck,” he grits out, hips slamming up into you, continuing to use his one hand to make sure the vibrator stays on your clit. 

Robby can feel you still clenching around him as his own orgasm overtakes him, and he rides it out for as long as he can, groaning out incoherent praises as his hips begin to slow. 

He’s brought back into reality when you whine frantically and at your joined hands holding the vibrator, suddenly oversensitive. Even without the stimulation, the aftershocks are powerful as you quake above him. He does his best to pull you back flush with his hips, tucking you into his chest as you ride it out. 

After several minutes of holding you in his lap, Robby helps you to the bathroom, only teasing you for how bad your legs shake once. Once you’ve both cleaned up, you wind up back in bed. 

“Thank you for that, I think you’ve ruined me for all other men.” You say it jokingly, but there’s nothing but truth behind the words. 

“The pleasure was all mine.” He kisses the top of your head where it rests on your chest. 

Just as you're drifting off to sleep you hear him mumble, “Do I need to be jealous of that vibrator?”

[mercvry-glow]

Busy Bee

parings. jack abbot x wife!reader

summary. you and your son take a trip to the pitt after an encounter with a bee. unfortunately, or maybe fortunately, your husband's working.

warnings. age gap (jack mid/late 40s, reader late 20s early 30s), reader is allergic to bees, overprotective!jack, boy-dad!jack, typical hospital setting, no death, hurt/comfort but mainly comfort, other pitt characters, let me know if there's anything else!

notes. local boy dad truther hopped into the pitt fandom, but this popped into my mind and I haven't been able to let it go. these will probably be a set of drabbles and one-shots if it gets enough traction, but please enjoy and any feedback is appreciated! also I am not a medical professional, but I tried my best to sound realistic.

wc. 2700+

side drabble of the aftermath

part two: where we fit

“We got a woman in her late twenties to early thirties, went into anaphylactic shock at the park due to a suspected bee sting. Vitals stabalized after we gave her Epi, but the swelling in her throat and the hives covering her chest, neck and arms is pretty extensive.” 

Just another normal day in the Pitt. 

“It is starting to be that season,” Dr. McKay said lightly as she did her own assessment while a few interns watched, “Did she have anyone with her? Who called?” 

The EMT gave a small gesture to her partner who was walking in behind them with a small boy, maybe five or six, who looked worried. “Couple of joggers passed them and found him with her failed EpiPen, they called after that.” 

Cassie could only nod as she thought about her own son experiencing that, “Alright Mohan come with me we’re gonna take her to south-15. Mel, can you talk to the boy and see if there’s anyone we can call for him?” 

Going to their respective tasks, McKay and Mohan took the young mother and Melissa went to introduce herself to the boy. He was still standing with the EMT, clutching his hand tightly while watching the hustle and bustle that was the emergency department. 

“Hey… Can I talk to him?” Mel approached slowly and the EMT squatted down to look the kid in his eyes. “I have to go now but uh- Dr. King here is gonna take really good care of you while your mommy gets help, okay?” The boy just nodded, going to hold his own hand. 

“What’s your name?” Mel asked, offering her own hand for him to take as they walked away. His grip was soft, if not a little clammy, and he toddled behind her as she led him to the family room. “Lucas…” he took his own deep breath, unsure of himself and the situation. 

“I heard something pretty scary happened at the park. Are you doing okay?” Lucas gave a little shrug, giving her hand a squeeze at the mention of the incident at the park. 

“I think so, is my mommy gonna be okay? Daddy says bees are bad for her, and the pen is supposed to make her better but it didn’t...” 

Mel opened the door to the family room, having Lucas sit in one of the chairs near the small coffee table. She had learned in the past couple of months that children liked to be distracted in situations like these. Clearly the little boy was feeling down, his once peaceful day at the park now ruined by an unfortunate accident. 

She sat down beside him, helping him take off the backpack he was wearing hoping maybe there were some more identifying clues lying within the blue cloth.  “Well your dad must be very smart, but your mom is being taken care of by some really cool doctors and I think she’s gonna be okay and excited to see you again.”

Unzipping the bag, Mel gave Lucas a gentle smile as they pulled out the contents together. Inside were the usual kid essentials — a juice pouch, a small sketchpad with dinosaurs drawn in crayon, and a pair of cleats and matching socks balled up and forgotten at the bottom. She sifted carefully, searching for anything that might tell them who else to contact. A pair of car keys sat in the front pocket, but no wallet or any other identifying placards. The EpiPen sat visibly in the mesh side holster, unadministered and effectively useless now. The air was light between the pair while the Intern thought of her next moves, and Lucas had started coloring next to her to keep his mind off of things. 

  She thought about askin Robby or Dana for next steps, and definitely wanted Kieara to stop by. “Are we able to contact your dad? I’m sure he’d want to know what happened,” Mel said, stumped at what to do next. 

“He’s pretty busy and um- his number sheet is in my other bag in the car… Mommy was supposed to make two, but this is the fun bag so it wasn’t supposed to matter.” Lucas explained, though that’s fair considering he’s only five or so. 

“Oh! Well where does he work? We could try calling them and he should be able to come here,” 

Lucas closed his eyes and wiggled around in his chair as he tried to remember the name, “Uhhh- oh Pittsburgh Trauma Medical Center!” 

Mel’s eyes lit up at the mention of the very hospital they were in. “Well that’s where we are! Let me go grab someone real quick and we can start asking around, how does that sound?” Lucas silently agreed and went back to coloring as the blonde woman left the room. 

The Intern succuried around, hoping to find Dr. Robby in a moment of peace where she could talk to him about the situation. Thankfully, the older man was sitting near the nurses station typing away at one of the computers. 

“Dr. Robby! I uh- I have the son of a patient who was admitted not too long ago, he said his dad works here and I was hoping you could help us locate him? He’s only about five so he doesn’t remember too much besides that.” Mel stood expectantly, as the older man got up and pushed his chair in. 

“Lead the way Dr. King, let's find this boy's dad.” Robby ran a hand down his face as he followed after Melissa who was leading him to the family room. Putting on a brave face, he hoped to god this wasn’t going to lead into a hospital wide manhunt. They kept a steady pace, pausing outside the door. “What was the other patient admitted for?” He asked, needing to know if this would be bad or not. 

“Mom was taken to South-15 after experiencing anaphylactic shock from a bee sting. The uh- EpiPen failed and some joggers helped them out, Dr. McKay was trearting her and everything was stable when we left besides the swelling and hives she had.” she explained keeping her recounting of it short, really wanting to find Lucas’s father as soon as possible. 

The two stepped inside the small room, the young boy sitting in the same cramped chair, picking at the sleeve of his sweater. 

“Hey, Lucas. This is Dr. Robby he’s gonna help-” Mel could barely get the rest of her sentence out before the boy looked up and rushed into the arms of the man beside her. 

“Uncle Mikey!” he cried out, latching onto the older doctor who scooped him up. 

“Hey Luke, what are ya doing here buddy?” Still a bit shocked, Robby gave the boy a quick scan looking for any sign that something could be wrong, “I heard your mom got stung by a bee.” 

Lucas let out a small sniffle, resting his head on the shoulder of his uncle. “It was scary… an-and mommy left her phone in the car so-so I couldn’t call anyone!” He kept his little body close, fists locked onto the blue hoodie Robby was known for wearing. He was still scared, just now beginning to process everything that had happened in the past hour or so. 

Mel stood off to the side, letting the two talk amongst themselves for a few moments. “You know Dr. Robby, Lucas?” 

The pair turned to her and Robby adjusted the boy so he could see the woman a bit better. “Dr. King meet Lucas Abbot, I’m surprised he didn’t say so sooner-probably the nerves.”  The older man looked down to the boy who was still clinging to him, the only familiar person he had seen since arriving to the PTMC. “You wanna go find your dad?” 

Lucas nodded a resounding yes, keeping his face buried in the neck of the older man hoping he would keep carrying him. 

“Dr. King, I got it from here if you want to go back and work,” Mel took her leave after that, giving Lucas a small wave goodbye before going back into the fold. 

Robby set the small boy down, repacking the scattered items back into the bag. He tried not to think about the faulty EpiPen, or how Jack was going to react upon finding out what had occurred. If anything that man was protective, and if hearing that his wife had been admitted didn’t set him off—hearing his son was here and hadn’t been able to contact him definitely would. 

“Yo Dana, we have a visitor with us today.” The brunette gave the curls on Lucas’s head, a trait he got from his father, a small rub, as they got to the charge nurse’s attention. The blonde let out a small gasp as she bent down to give the boy a hug. 

“And what are you doing here, little man? Where’s your mama? Your Dad’s running all over the place today, have you seen him yet?” She looked back up at Robby, holding the boy close. 

The older man gave a small shake of his head, a knowing look in his brown eyes. “She’s uh- She’s in south-15 and we were actually looking for Jack, have you seen him?” 

Dana glanced at the board, “He was about to discharge a patient from north-8, you could probably catch him before the next Ambo pulls up.” 

“Alright, buddy,” Robby said, offering his hand to Lucas again. “Let’s go find your dad before he disappears on us.”

Dana gave the boy one more quick squeeze and a wink before standing up again. “Tell him to take five once you find him. He’s been running around since before you got here.”

They made their way toward the north wing, weaving between carts and stretchers, the bustle of the hospital constant. Lucas stayed close, wide-eyed but silent, clutching Robby’s fingers like a lifeline.

As they rounded the corner near North-8, Robby spotted him—Dr. Jack Abbot clipboard in hand, shoulder leaning into the doorway of a patient room as he gave discharge instructions with that familiar composed intensity. Even from here, Robby could see the stress around his eyes. Whatever calm Jack projected, it wasn’t rooted deep today. The patient stepped away into the crowd of people and Robby stepped into view, catching his eye.

Jack nodded a little when he saw him, expecting a routine update—until he saw the small figure beside him.

“Lucas?”

The clipboard hit the counter with a clack.

Lucas let go of Robby’s hand and ran straight into his father’s arms, the impact knocking the breath out of Jack for half a second.

“Hey—hey, what—” Jack crouched down, holding Lucas tightly, searching his face. “Are you okay? What happened?”

Lucas clung to him like a koala, cheeks red and eyes glassy. “Mommy’s sick,” he whispered. “The pen didn’t work. I tried, but it didn’t work.”

Jack’s face paled. His arms tightened instinctively. “Where is she?”

“South-15,” Robby answered quietly, giving the man a moment before continuing. “It was a bee sting. The EpiPen failed. She was treated right away, vitals are stable, McKay’s with her.”

Jack didn’t move at first, just held his son close, forehead resting against Lucas’s curls as he processed it all—the sudden fear, the guilt, the helplessness. Finally, he let out a long breath.

“I didn’t even know—no wonder she wasn’t answering her phone.” His voice cracked.

“She’s okay,” Robby reminded him gently. “And your son? Absolute champ. Kept his head until the crews showed up.”

Lucas pulled back just enough to look at him. “I didn’t cry. I was gonna, but I didn’t.”

Jack smiled through the tightness in his chest. “Good job, bud.”

He stood up slowly, Lucas still in his arms, and turned to Robby. “I need to see her.”

Robby nodded. “Go on, Brother. I’ll let Dana know what’s going on, let her know you’re clocking off early.” He handed over the backpack and let the father/son duo head off. 

Making their way to you, where you were taken was a bit more private than other rooms and the soft beeping could be heard from outside. The two stopped outside, Jack prepping the boy for what he was about to see. 

“Hey…So mommy’s probably gonna be sleepy and she might have a hard time talking okay? We should be able to see her though.” Lucas nodded into his dad’s shoulder, his small fingers tightening around the fabric of Jack’s black scrub top.

“Okay,” he whispered. “I won’t be loud.”

Jack gave a little smile at that, brushing his son’s curls down gently before reaching for the door. The soft click of the handle felt louder than it should have, and as they stepped inside, the familiar scent of antiseptic mixed with something heavier—like adrenaline and the memories embedded within the room.

The room was dimly lit, with only the overhead light above your bed on. You were propped up slightly, eyes closed, an oxygen cannula under your nose. Your arm had an IV line, and Princess was quietly making notes on the monitor screen.

Jack’s breath hitched in his throat.

Lucas didn’t say anything right away. His gaze was locked on you, his brown eyes wide and unreadable as he stared at his mom, so happy and full of life only hours ago, now tucked into white sheets with wires and machines surrounding her.

“Mommy…” he whispered.

Your eyes fluttered open at the sound, sluggish but aware. You turned your head slightly, the movement slow and pained, but unmistakably focused on him.

Jack stepped closer, kneeling beside the bed so Lucas could see you better.

“She’s awake,” Jack said softly. “You can say hi, baby.”

Lucas’s lip trembled, but he leaned toward you. “I’m sorry,” he blurted suddenly. “I tried with the pen but it didn’t work and I was scared and I couldn’t call—”

Your fingers twitched and slowly reached for him, and Jack gently helped guide Lucas’s hand to yours. Holding the both of yours within his strong grip.

“You did so good, baby,” you said, your voice hoarse but warm. “I’m okay, and you were so brave.”

Lucas crawled gently onto the edge of the bed, careful not to bump into any of the cords or wires. He curled up beside your arm, still holding your hand tightly.

Jack sat in the chair beside the bed, rubbing his face and finally letting out a shaky breath.

“You scared the shit out of me,” he said quietly, half to himself, half to you. You gave him a tired smile, and Jack reached up to brush your hair from your face.

“But you’re here,” he said. “And we’re okay. That’s what matters.”

“Yeah, you’re lucky we weren’t closer to Pres, would’ve really lost your shit…” you gave him the best smile you could muster, while he gave you a knowing look. 

He let out yet another sigh, still keeping your hand in his. “We need to get you another EpiPen, and put my goddamn number in that park bag.” 

“You have fun with that, babe,” you murmured, voice still rough but tinged with just enough sass to draw a soft snort from Jack.

“Oh, I will,” he said, dragging the chair a little closer to the bed. “You’re gonna have a laminated emergency list in every bag we own. Backpack, baseball bag, glove box—hell, I’ll sew one into your damn jacket lining if I have to.”

Lucas perked up a little at that, lifting his head. “I can start baseball?”

Jack looked over at him, mock-serious. “Only if you promise not to spill a bunch of stuff in the bag again.”

Lucas giggled for the first time since they got there, that tiny sound easing something deep in Jack’s chest. You chuckled too, though it ended in a soft wince as your ribs reminded you what happened.

Jack leaned forward instinctively, hand pressing lightly over yours again. “Easy,” he murmured.

“I’m fine,” you reassured, but your grip on his fingers said another thing.

I love you, I’m sorry. 

The room fell into a quiet rhythm after that—the soft hum of monitors, Lucas gently dozing off against your arm after hours of turmoil, Jack watching both of you with an expression halfway between exhaustion and fierce devotion.

“Thank you,” you whispered after a moment, just for him.

He looked up.

“For having such good doctor friends, for loving me… For being a good dad,”

Jack leaned in, brushing a kiss to your temple. “Always.”

mercvry-glow 2025

[hauntedhowlett]

TEXTS from THE PITT - dr. michael "robby" robinavitch and dr. heather collins (probably)

[abbotty]

𝐅𝐈𝐂 𝐑𝐄𝐂𝐎𝐌𝐌𝐄𝐍𝐃𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐒

jack abbot

☆ these walls have eyes | @asxgard

rumors always start somewhere - and the one about you and a certain attending started somewhere between a whispered confession and myrna overhearing you.

☆ no man's land | @butyoudidthis4what

there's a shooting where you work. jack is at the ed when the dispatch comes in and is terrified when he can't get in touch with you.

☆ edge of the dark | @thepencilnerd

what starts as quiet pining after too many long shifts becomes something heavier, messier, softer - until the only place it makes sense is in the dark.

☆ this city doesn't forget | @abbotjack

you weren't supposed to see him again. not like this. not in this dress, not in this city, not with his last name still catching in your throat. but pittsburgh remembers what you tried to bury.

☆ you, me, and the empty space between us | @mercvry-glow

jack abbot talks the reader off of the ledge.

☆ just a walk-in | @abbotsanatomy

jack's worst nightmare is you ending up in his er.

☆ bar fight | @tedmustache

a rough night leads the reader to the er, and jack's only priority is making sure she's okay.

☆ coffee swap | @tedmustache

it starts with coffee. then it becomes something more.

☆ safe and sound | @science-hoes

a stormy night in pittsburgh causes jack abbot to fall into a ptsd-induced psychosis episode, and the reader does everything in her power to bring them back.

☆ you say that like you care | @frombookstoretobookstore

after reader takes a punch to the face, abbot's emotions flare as he realizes he might care a little too much.

☆ overactive empathy | @lol-im-done

will a traumatic event force jack and the reader to confront their true feelings for each other or pull them apart forever?

☆ first thing | @stellamarielu

lazy mornings with jack are few and far between, but they always exceed your expectations.

☆ who you let in | @eddiesfaerie

jack has a soft spot. he didn't expect you to be the one to find it.

☆ you shouldn't be (down here with me) | @youvebeenlivingfictional

when you're almost shot at work, your body snaps into autopilot as your mind goes into overdrive. jack has always recognized parts of himself in you - he knows a mind teetering on the edge when he sees one.

☆ love me hard love me soft | @mercvry-glow

jack abbot isn't a soft man, but he'll learn for you.

☆ stop making this hurt | @mercvry-glow

you knew jack 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.

☆ valkyries and betting pools | @nocapesdahling

one of the most popular and secret betting pools is focused on what's going on with you and dr. abbot. meanwhile, you just want to figure out if the man you've had a crush on for months likes you back.

☆ someone new | @quickestgold

after witnessing the fallout from jack's failed marriage, dana and robby have been skeptical of his new relationship. but when a freak accident forces them to see the depth of jack's feelings, their perspectives shift.

☆ don't make me someone you can't have | @abbotjack

the fallout didn't start the day of pitt fest - it started when you told jack abbot how you felt and he told you he didn't want you.

☆ say it first | @quickestgold

jack has grown used to the emptiness in his heart, a quiet companion that has kept him safe for too long. but when you finally speak your truth, he realizes the hardest battles aren't fought on the field or in the chaos of the er, but in the silence between two hearts longing for each other.

michael 'robby' robinavitch

☆ companionship | @asxgard

he’s not sure how he got here, perhaps it’s the aching loneliness or the overwhelming stress. you’re there because it seems like easy money and you have a pushy friend. all in all, it’s a good deal — he gets the companionship he’s after, no strings, and you get your utility bills paid on time. it’s pretty simple, easy, until your arrangement bleeds into something a bit more…complicated.

☆ lead the way | @traumaone

after over a year of pining over robby, reader gets into a relationship to try and get over him, and gets cheated on. robby comes to the rescue.

☆ booked for one | @abbotjack

a black tie charity gala in chicago. one bed. months of tension. and a storm that forces both of you to stop pretending.

☆ glasses be damned | @thepencilnerd

lazy sunday mornings. you in his shirt. him wearing - glasses? what could be better?

☆ drunk confessions | @thepencilnerd

you're out drinking with your colleagues. robby's not there - until he is.

☆ sticky-notes and leftovers | @thepencilnerd

a glimpse into your daily notions with robby after moving in.

☆ sweet nothings | @thebestandworstdayofjune

you own a bakery down the street from ptmh, and dr. robby is one of your favorite customers.

☆ peace | @xximperioxx

the reader comforts robby after a hard shift (she talks him off the ledge).

☆ work crush | @xximperioxx

the reader has a crush on robby. spoiler alert: it's reciprocated.

☆ doctor's orders | @tedmustache

when one rough day pushes things to a breaking point, unspoken feelings come dangerously close to the surface.

☆ the right moment is you | @cherriready

robby didn't mean to propose today. not during a long shift, not without a plan, and definitely not in front of the er. but when he saw her, he saw the rest of his life. no speeches. no perfect moment. just her. always her.

☆ stitched together | @hauntedhowlett-writes

after accidentally cutting your hand, you seek out your neighbor for help. a favor becomes a friendship and a friendship becomes something more.

[loveyhoneydovey]

+18 mdni (reader is described as younger and is implied to have adhd)

you know what would be the perfect way to help dr. robby decompress? cockwarming.

the first time it happens, i’m imagining this poor old man (affectionate) coming home exhausted and he’s just over everything. enters you, his chaotic younger girlfriend who notices he’s struggling but knows there’s no words that can make this situation better right now.

so instead, you drag him to the couch and start unzipping his pants (he’s about to protest but you shush him and tell him to trust you). you settle on top of him, both of you moaning and sighing when you finally sink all the way down on his cock. but instead of moving as you usually would, you surprise him by simply sitting in that position and wrapping your arms around him. only occasionally moving to kiss the freckles on his neck or to fidget with his gold chain. the intimacy and closeness of it helps him feel grounded after a traumatic shift and helps you feel a little more connected to him and helps temporarily quiet down your brain

[popcornpoppypop]

The Old Man and the Time Bomb

Summary: Jess and Robby go out for Mexican food. Jess has a seizure. Robby doesn't panic until she's safe at PTMC. When she comes to, fear rears its ugly head.

Warnings: Epileptic seizure, depression, death mentioned (no one dies), service animal

A/N: I'm back in the fucking building. This OC just has me in a chokehold, and she is too fun to write, I can't ignore her. Let me know if you want more with her!

“Okay, class! Eyes on me!” Jess stood at the front of the classroom, a gaggle of rowdy middle schoolers chattering to each other. “If I don’t get eyes on me and mouths closed in five seconds, no movie next week.” Jess put her hand on her hips.

“Sorry, Miss Kahan!” They yelled as they settled in their seats.

“Okay. I know you’re ready for summer. Me too. But we still have a few weeks left and it’s my job to cram some knowledge into those brains of yours before you let them rot during vacation.” Jess sighed.

“I want you to read the last chapter in The Outsiders over the weekend.” She was met with groans and complaints.

“It’s not that bad. I could be making you do hard labor.” She smirked. “On Monday, we’ll have a round table discussion about the themes. I want you to think about what characters you connect with and why. You don’t have to write it down but,”

“Do it anyway!” They finished the sentence for her.

“Just put in a little more effort and you can feel good on the last day.” Jess smiled. The bell rang and they gathered their things.

“Can we say bye to Roger?” One girl piped up.

“I suppose you were good enough.” Jess nodded. “Roger, hop up.” Roger jumped up to sit on the table in front of the class. He softly wagged his tail as each kid petted him and said goodbye.

Jess sat at her desk, piles of papers surrounding her, mocking her. She hated the paperwork part of her job. She just wanted to teach, not grade. Her phone buzzed in her pocket. She was grateful for the break.

“Hello?”

“Hey. I forgot to ask if you wanted me to pick you up or not.” Robby’s voice had a magic to it, Jess was convinced. She would feel her shoulders relax the second she heard it.

“I’m good either way.” Jess said.

“You always say that. I hate it. I just want to know what you want.” Robby laughed.

“You’re grumpy.”

“You always are.”

“Come get me, cowboy. I’m just grading papers.” Jess sighed.

“How bad is it?”

“Well, they got To Kill a Mockingbird better than Lord of the Flies. I suppose that’s a good thing.” She ran a hand through her hair. “I still wish it was better.”

“End of the year, makes everyone lose focus.”

“Yeah, but I still have to keep grades up or I get yelled at.”

“You can only do your best.” Robby said.

“Oh wow. Such sage advice. I feel all better. You should put that on a card or something.” Jess snorted.

“Ha-ha. I’ll be there in a few minutes.” Robby hung up.  Jess let her head fall into her hands. Roger sat at her feet, looking up at her.

“You want to grade these?” She asked him.

Robby had been to pick up Jess a handful of times, but he still felt awkward walking the halls of school after hours. He always wondered how schools all smelled the same. He knocked on the door and popped his head in.

“How’s the grading going?” He smiled as he walked in.

“Could be worse.” Jess sighed, turning her chair to face him, her glasses perched on her nose. She had untucked her blouse, and it hung loosely now. Her hair was pulled up into a messy bun, stray hairs framing her face.

“Jesus, this is really doing something for me.” Robby’s voice was low and gravelly, his pupils wide.

“You hot for teacher, Dr. Robinavitch?” Jess cocked an eyebrow.

“Desperately.” He hummed.

“Keep it together. You so much as put a hand on my ass and they’ll kick me out.” Jess chuckled.

“Then let's get out of here.” He held out his hand for her, pulling her to her feet. She pulled him down to kiss him.

“You’re driving. I’m getting a margherita.” Jess said, grabbing her purse and Roger’s leash.

“Yes, ma’am.” Robby chuckled as he followed after her.

The restaurant was nice. It was the best Mexican food in town and Jess loved it. She had gone to it constantly in college. She’d spent plenty of time putting back plate after plate of tacos during hangovers. But it was quiet and the lighting wasn’t harsh.

“I just can’t get Charlie to focus. I know he can do it, but he’s just not putting in the effort. I don’t know how to help him anymore.” Jess sighed as she sipped her drink.

“Sometimes you gotta let them fail. I have to do that at work with the med students sometimes.” Robby shrugged.

“I’m not as cold as you. You hard ass.” Jess rolled her eyes.

“Please. You’re worse than me.” Robby chuckled.

“How is Santos?” Jess smiled.

“Better. I hate that I had to humble her. Tried to avoid it.” He shook his head. “She still hasn’t forgiven me for putting her on the hopeless case.”

“She’ll figure it out. She’s smart. Just because it was the lesson she needed, doesn’t mean it’s what she wanted.”

“Wow. You should put that on a card or something.” Robby smirked.

“You’re an ass.” Jess sighed.

“You like my ass.” Robby bowed his head to force eye contact.

“Oh, flirty tonight. Okay.” Jess laughed. “I can flirt.” She smirked. A cop car went driving by outside, lights flashing.

“Always so competitive.” He chuckled. Jess was going to retaliate; her response locked and loaded. But she started to feel off. She fought through it.

“Well, when you’re the best you start to like proving it.” She gave a half-hearted smile.

“You okay?” Robby saw her eyes change.

“Yeah…maybe.” She cleared her throat. Roger stood up and jammed his nose into her thigh three times.

“Shit.” Robby threw the napkin off his lap and went around the table to her side.

“No. I don’t want to do this.” Jess whined.

“It’s okay. Just take a deep breath.” Robby put his hand on the back of her neck.

“My bag. My midazolam.” Jess groaned, her mind leaving her. Robby rifled through her bag and pulled the nasal spray out.

“Lean back. Good.” He sprayed up her nose.

“Ugh, taste so bad.” She groaned.

“I know. I’m sorry.” Robby said, pulling his phone out and turning the camera on.

“It’s not working.” Jess mumbled.

“It’s okay. I’ve got you.” Robby told her.

“Everything okay?” A waitress came over, a nervous look on her face.

“Yeah, um, she’s going to have a seizure.” Robby said.

“Oh my god. Should I call an ambulance?” the young woman asked.

“Not yet. I’m a doctor, I’m going to help her through it. But can you just stand nearby in case I need something?”

“O-okay.”

“Just stand a few feet away. What’s your name?”

“Lexi.”

“Can you have your phone on you? Thank you, Lexi.”

“Mikey…” Jess’s head lolled back and forth.

“I’m here, you’re okay. Let’s get you on the floor.” He said, guiding her to lie on the floor, putting his jacket under her head. Roger lay across her legs. Jess’ body started convulsing, her eyes rolling to the back of her head.

Robby went into work mode. Turning everything clinical, trying not to let his emotions get the best of him. He held her body, making sure she didn’t hurt herself. He kept track of time. When she wasn’t stopping after four minutes, his blood ran cold.

“Lexi, I need you to call an ambulance. Bring the phone over so I can talk to dispatch.” He said. The girl scrambled to dial the number, her hands shaking. She couldn’t be more than 19, Robby thought.

“Here.” She put it on speaker.

“911, what’s your emergency?”

“I have a thirty-four-year-old female, history of epilepsy in a seizure. It’s approaching five minutes since onset. Nasal Midazolam was administered to no effect.” Robby rattled off.

“Where are you located?”

“Maria’s on main street.”

“Okay, I have a unit on it’s way. Are you keeping her away from anything that could cause physical trauma?”

“Yes. I’m Dr. Robinavitch from PTMC. Let them know that’s where we’re going.”

“I’ll inform them. They’re ETA is three minutes.”

“Thank you.” Robby said.

“Here, for her foam stuff.” Lexi handed Robby a clean rag. He wiped at her mouth.

“Will you go and wait for the ambulance at the door, they should be right up the road?” Lexi nodded and ran off.

“Come on, Jess.” Robby begged as he held her convulsing body close.

“Dr. Robby, this your girl?” One of the medics came bounding over.

“Jess. Yeah.” Robby nodded.

“We got her.” He smiled. “Get the IO started I’ll pull up the meds.” He ordered his partner.

“She’s had a dose of Midazolam.” Robby said.

“Yep, it was in the call. You can just be her partner, you don’t have to be her doctor.” He nodded.

“Easier said then done.” Robby scoffed.

“I hear ya.” The medic laughed. “Meds given. Get the nasal canula on her.”

“Jess, can you hear me?” Robby held her face in his hands as she stopped shaking. He was met with a groan.

“Let’s get her on the gurney.” The medics loaded her up and they all started for the rig.

“Lexi, thank you. You did great.” Robby smiled as he ran after them. The young woman smiled and waved.

The ride to PTMC was only four minutes. To Robby it felt like an hour. Jess still hadn’t regained consciousness. Every second that passed made him more anxious.

“Dr. Robby, I need you to jump out first.” The medic nodded.

“Yeah, sorry.” Robby jumped down and watched them unload Jess, Roger trotting next to her. They wheeled into the ER.

“Jess Kahan, history of epilepsy, seizure lasting six minutes.” They rattled off.

“Dr. Robby? Do you know them?” Whittaker asked.

“Yes. Where’s Dr. Abbot?”

“with another patient.”

“Get him.” Robby barked as they went into the trauma bay. The nurses started rushing around, getting her settled onto the bed.

“Hey. What the hell happened?” Jack came bursting in. “Jess? Can you hear me, kid? Come on your stubborn ass can’t wait to throw some insult my way.” He rubbed at her sternum.

“Cop car, triggered it. But she’s been stressed and she had alcohol. I should have fought her on the drinks.” Robby shook his head, getting upset with himself as the adrenaline faded.

“Yeah, like that would have gone over well.” Jack snorted.

“It was six minutes. She needs-”

“Nope, you can’t give orders here. I know what she needs too, brother. Take Roger and wait outside. He always gets upset during this shit.” Jack nodded.

“I want to stay.”

“I know. I don’t need you breathing down my neck. Respectfully, Dr. Robby. Get out of my trauma bay.” Jack pushed him back. Robby knew what he was doing, knew it wasn’t personal. “Roger, get out of here, buddy.” Jack motioned for him to move.

“Come on, Roger.” Robby grabbed his leash and walked out. Dana came rushing up to him.

“Hey, saw her pop up on the board.” She pulled him to a chair to sit.

“It was six minutes.” He mumbled. Roger put his front half on Robby’s lap as he whined.

“Shit. This the first time you saw it?” Dana scratched at the dog’s ears.

“No. Our second date she had a small one, lasted a minute. But it wasn’t bad. This was bad.” Robby cleared his throat.

“Hey, she’s tough. She’ll be okay.” Dana nodded. Robby let out a long, exasperated breath. Roger yawned and whined. “You two are two peas in a pod.” She smirked. “No wonder she wanted you. The human embodiment of her dog.”

“He’s cuter.” Robby shrugged.

“Can’t argue that.” She said, watching as Robby shrank before her eyes. “I’m going to make you some coffee. Get him some water.” She patted his shoulder and walked off. Robby watched them work on Jess from the desk, absent-mindedly stroking Roger’s head.

“She’ll be okay.” Robby murmured to himself. He saw Jack laugh and knew she had started to gain consciousness. He took Roger and ran back in.

“Jess?” Robby leaned over the bed. Her eyes were red and half-opened, face pale.

“Scared ya?” She grumbled, her voice rough and garbled.

“More than a little, yeah.” Robby nodded.

“How much of a control freak were you?” She mumbled.

“I didn’t let him. Kicked him out.” Jack said.

“Oh. Well, then. Someone found his balls.” Jess attempted to smile.

“You’re getting an MRI for that one.” Jack snorted.

“Cruel.” Jess sighed.

“Glad to see your personality is still intact.” Robby smiled.

“You look like shit.” She raised her hand to his face.

“That’s on you.”

“Roger?”

“He’s here.” Robby gave the command for him to jump on the edge of the bed.

“Hey, good boy. I know you hate the ambulance.” She scratched his chin. “Make sure he gets food soon. He can have a sandwich, I don’t care. Not peanut butter though, too much sugar.” Jess nodded.

“I’ve got him, don’t worry. You just worry about you.”

“Boring.” Jess snorted.

“Alright, they’re taking you up for imaging now. Have your teary goodbyes and all that shit.” Jack said.

“If I remember correctly, last time I had a bad one, you were the one crying.”

“You’re a pain in my ass.” Jack chuckled as he left.

“If you don’t have an apple juice waiting for me when I get back, I’m breaking up with you.” Jess smirked.

“Yes, ma’am. I can come up with you, ya know?” Robby held her hand.

“Naw, you’ll make everyone nervous. I don’t want to deal with that. Besides, you gotta feed my dog or he’ll never forgive you.” She squeezed his hand.

“Alright. Be nice.” Robby kissed her.

“I always am.” She said as the tech wheeled her off. Robby stood in the trauma bay for a minute, feeling like he had just run a mile.

“Come on, cap. Drink your coffee.” Dana pulled up back to his chair. “She’s doing okay. You can relax.”

“I can’t.” Robby sighed. Jack walked up, tossing two sandwiches at Robby.

“His favorite is ham,” Jack noted as he worked on his computer. Roger sat up, looking from the sandwiches to Robby.

“Alright, bud.” He chuckled as he unwrapped the food and handed it to the dog. “She seemed with it. Probably no damage.” Robby sighed, speaking mostly to himself.

“I’m telling you this because I think you should know, I don’t think she’ll hide it from you, but I could tell she was nervous. She had weakness on her left side, particularly her leg.” Jack sighed.

“What? You didn’t say anything in there.” Robby looked up at him, his brows scrunched in a mixture of anger and fear.

“She didn’t want me to say anything until she was getting imaging.”

“What the fuck, Jack!?”

“Look, she’s a proud woman. She is strong and stubborn and hates it when people look at her like an invalid. She knew if you knew, you’d get that look on your face that everyone gets. She doesn’t want pity. She barely wants empathy.” Jack was protective of Jess. Always had been, but as the years went by and they grew to actually know each other, he saw her more sisterly. He knew he shouldn’t; he was her doctor and nothing more. But she had a way of wiggling her way into people’s lives and not leaving. At some point, he stopped fighting it.

“I don’t get that look.” Robby snapped.

“You do. Everyone does. It’s worse from you because she loves you. She never wants to see it on the people she loves.”

“You should have said something, I would have gone with her!” Robby felt himself getting unreasonable, but couldn’t stop it. Roger sat at his feet, licking at the exposed ankle.

“I did what my patient requested, and I’d do it again. You aren’t her husband, Robby. You don’t have rights here. Even if you were, I still wouldn’t have said anything. You know I’m right. You’re too upset to see reason.” Jack bit.

“Alright, boys. Calm down. He’s right, Robby. Drink your coffee.” Dana sighed.

Robby took Roger and went out to the ambulance bay. He needed to cool off. He paced back and forth, every terrible scenario battering his mind. Roger kept watching him as he walked next to him, aware of the man’s distress.

“Dr. Robby, everything okay?” Mel’s voice broke his train of thought.

“Yes. Just thinking.” He grumbled. Mel stood watching him pace like a tiger in a zoo.

“It’s hard. When someone you love is ill.” She said, her arms twisted around each other with her hands clasped in front of her.

“I’m fine, Dr. King.” He huffed.

“When my mom got sick, I had to hide how much it affected me so I could care for Becca. Maybe it was also to protect myself. Anyway, it didn’t help anything.” She sighed.

“I don’t want to do whatever this is.” Robby stopped. Roger whined at his feet.

“I know. But I wanted you to know that, if you aren’t fine, it’s okay. Maybe, tell her that you aren’t fine. Before it builds up into something you can’t control.” Mel shrugged. “She’s back from imaging, by the way.” She walked back inside without another word.

“Fuck.” Robby hated when his residents schooled him, even if it happened often.

“She’s in room 2.” Jack didn’t look up from his computer, still upset with Robby. He’d be over it in an hour, but he wasn’t fighting it.

“Thanks.” Robby brushed past him to the fridge at the nurses' station, grabbing an apple juice and heading for room 2.

“I told them that girls never like stupid boys, and within a week, grades went up.” Jess laughed as she regaled Dana with her story.

“Your methods of motivation maybe controversial, but damn if they don’t work.” Dana gave her shoulder a squeeze.

“You should see what I do to get Mikey to clean my gutters.” The wicked smile he couldn’t resist plastered across her face. His anxiety started to melt away.

“Mikey?” Dana looked up at him, her face bursting at the seams from trying to keep herself from laughing.

“Don’t.” Robby warned.

“I get special permission on account of me su-”

“Okay! Dana, can we have a minute?” Robby stopping Jess before she embarrassed him beyond repair.

“Yeah, sure,” She giggled. “Jack will be in once the radiologist’s report is in.” She shook her head, laughing as she left the room.

“I was going to say such a good girlfriend.” Jess teased.

“Sure you were.” Robby sat next to her. “Your apple juice.” He handed her the bottle, his fingertips trailing down her arm.

“My hero.” She took a long sip, the sugar almost immediately making her feel better. “I feel alive again.” She flopped back onto the bed.

“How’s the leg?” Robby cocked an eyebrow.

“Ah. Abbot told you.” She rolled her eyes. “At least he waited.”

“You don’t need to hide things from me.” Robby gathered her hand in his, his thumb tracing absentminded patterns.

“I know. I’m just not used to someone who can handle this shit.” She looked away, suddenly feeling shy.

“I’m here for all of it, Jess. But when you don’t tell me things, it makes me worry.”

“I’m just waiting for you to run, I guess. It’s a defense mechanism. I’m usually everyone’s worst date story.” She looked up at him, there was a vulnerability in her eyes that he hadn’t seen before.

“Well, you’re my best date story. If that helps.” He smiled.

“No way.”

“Why?”

“You’re telling me that Mexican food and me pissing myself, is the best date you’ve had? That’s sad.” Jess chuckled.

“Stop. You know what I mean.” He lifted her hand to his lips, laying a gentle kiss to her skin.

“What a sap.” She felt herself start to tear up.

“You didn’t answer my question.”

“My leg feels weak. It’s probably just post-seizure weakness. It happens sometimes, especially after big ones.” Jess dismissed.

“Sure.” Robby nodded, seeing through her words. “We’ll figure it out, if it isn’t.” He wished he were better at comforting her.

“You don’t need to promise anything.” She wouldn’t lift her eyes to meet his.

“I don’t make promises that I don’t intend to keep.”

“You can intend to keep them all you like, but when it gets hard, intent doesn’t mean much.” Her voice was sharper than she meant it. Roger jumped onto the foot of the bed, a small groan coming from him.

“Why are you acting like I’m going to leave? Have I given you reason to think that?” Robby felt the frustration rising again.

“Everyone does. Everyone always does. When you realize that I might drop dead someday, with no explanation, you’ll think twice about this. And you should.”

“Wow. That’s cold.” Robby scoffed. There was a knock on the door and Jack appeared with a tablet in his hand.

“Got the results back. Shit. Did I interrupt something?” Jack felt the wall of irritation as he entered.

“No.” Robby snapped.

“What you got, Abbot?” Jess cleared her throat.

“Your brain is as normal as you can manage. No bleeds or damage can be seen from the images we got today. You have Todd’s Paralysis, nothing a little rest can’t cure.” Jack explained.

“I’ve never hated anyone more than fucking Todd, whoever the fuck he is.” Jess grumbled.

“We’re going to monitor you for the next hour, make sure you don’t seize again. But I’ll let you go early if this guy takes you home.” He nudged Robby with his elbow.

“I’ll watch her.” Robby nodded.

“Don’t sound so excited.” Jack huffed.

“He’s upset that I’m a realist.” Jess rolled her eyes.

“Pessimist.” Robby said.

“Sure. Whatever. I’ve done this before, don’t forget. Jack’s seen the boys who leave as soon as the nurses take over. Never hear from them again. I’ve watched as the infatuation turns to apprehension and disgust.” Jess hissed.

“Boys, boys. Not men.” Robby spat.

“Oh, right. You think you’re more of a man than them? Because you stayed? Because you fed my dog a sandwich? Is that how low the bar is?”

“I don’t think, any of this is constructive or whatever the therapists say. Maybe you should take a breather.” Jack cleared his throat.

“Why are you doing this? Huh? What did I do for you to act like this all of a sudden?” Robby flailed his arms as he spoke.

“I’ll be back when you two calm down.” Jack scurried out of the room.

“Nothing! You just can’t handle the truth! I get it! I do, it’s a hard pill to swallow!”

“Just because it’s hard, doesn’t mean I don’t want to do this! How do I convince you that I’m staying!? I don’t want to go anywhere!” Robby rubbed a hand over his face.

“I don’t know!”

“You’re just as scared as me, that’s what this is!”

“Yes! I’ve been terrified since I was eleven and shaking on the floor of Mrs. Perkins' classroom! I’m scared of this getting so good I can’t live without it and waking up from a seizure half myself or never waking up again!” Jess sobbed.  

“Jess…” Robby jumped up and wrapped her in his arms. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have kept going.” He murmured into her hair.

“I pushed you.” She cried. “I pushed, because I just…I never know how to act when people care.” She looked up at him, wide-eyed and red-faced.

“Me either.” Robby hummed.

“I…I think I love you. I don’t want to be the reason you grieve one day.” She hiccupped. Robby tucked her hair behind her ears.

“I know I love you. I know you’re scared. But, if you go before me, I’ll see it as a privilege to have loved you so much, that I’m riddled with grief.” Robby kissed her forehead.

“The old man and the ticking time bomb. Who goes first?” She smirked.

“Couldn’t stop yourself, huh?” Robby chuckled.

“I can’t give you what other women can.” She sighed.

“I don’t want other women.”

“I can’t be the homemaker. I can’t guarantee a clean house or a cooked dinner.”

“I don’t want a homemaker. I’m in my fifties, not from the 50s.”

“I won’t have kids. I won’t put them through this.”

“I don’t need kids to have a fulfilled life.”

“I kick puppies.”

“What?”

“I’m trying to get you to stop countering me.” Jess pulled him down to kiss her. Robby happily obliged.

“I think Roger might have something to say about that last one.” Robby laughed.

“I will give you more dogs, though.” Jess smiled.

“I like dogs. I get to pick the next one.” He gave Roger a pat on the head.

“We’ll see.” Jess ran her fingers through his hair.

[heavenssins]

that one scene of the pitt