#michael “robby” robinavitch | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

art-by-jas · 20 days ago

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"I've got you, sweetheart." Michael "Robby" Robinavitch x Reader Tags: Established Relationship, Kissing, Depression, Anxiety, Fluff, Domestic Fluff Summary: When you are getting hints that you might be fired soon, you come home to Robby, who instantly takes care of you. A/N: This is purely self-insert, I'm so anxious and not feeling well.

Robby lounges in the recliner, the flickering images on the TV momentarily forgotten as he hears the gentle creak of the door. A warm smile spreads across his face. “Hey, honey,” he calls out. You ignore him, walking down the hallway to the bathroom, the door clicking softly shut behind you; he feels momentarily hurt that you didn’t greet him, but he realizes you must’ve had one hell of a rough day.

He sets the remote down, the sound of the news fading into the background as he stands up. Taking a step toward the bathroom, he hesitates for a moment. With a soft knock on the door, he hopes to bridge the distance between you.

“Sweetheart, can I come in?” He calls gently, his voice filled with warmth.

He strains to catch a response from beyond the door, but the only sound that reaches him is the steady cascade of water. After a brief moment of hesitation, he slowly pushes the door open, heart racing just a bit.

“Babe?” he whispers, concern lacing his tone.

As he steps inside, his heart sinks at the sight before him. You’re in the shower, your body shuddering as you cry, and his heart aches with an immediate sense of worry. Instinctively, his expression softens, every fiber of his being reaching out to comfort you.

"What's wrong?" His voice is tender, a note of worry evident as he steps closer. When you remain silent, Robby decides to shed his clothes, joining you in the shower. He pulls you into his embrace, holding you tightly, a comforting shield against the world outside.

"Please, I need you to talk to me," he implores softly.

As your tears flow more freely, Robby draws you in even tighter, his presence unwavering amid your storm. He gently rubs your back.

“Shhh, it's alright,” he murmurs, pressing a soft kiss to your temple. “I’m right here. Whatever it is, I've got you.” The water continues to cascade around you, the soft sound of the shower wrapping the moment in a cocoon of quiet intimacy. He doesn’t rush you for answers; he understands that the time will come when you’re ready to share. For now, he simply stays there, enveloping you in his warmth.

As you turn to face him, the moment his eyes land on your tear-filled gaze, he’s momentarily frozen at the sight of your pain. A softening warmth spreads across his features as your gazes intertwine. He brings his hands to your face, his grip both strong and tender.

“Sweetheart…” he whispers, his voice barely above a hush, searching for comfort in your eyes.

The sight of your quivering lip and the gentle shake of your head only deepens the ache in Robby's heart. He brushes his thumbs delicately over your cheeks, attempting to chase away the tremors.

“Hey, hey,” he murmurs in a soothing tone, each word a gentle caress. “Take your time. It’s okay.”

Robby holds you close for a few lingering moments, his embrace a steady balm amid the chaos. Then, with a tender resolve, he reaches to turn off the shower, the sound of water fading into silence. He goes for a towel from the rack, wrapping it around your trembling form with a warmth that cuts through the chill. Quickly, he grabs another towel to dry himself off.

“Come on, let’s get you into bed,” he murmurs, his voice soothing as he guides you toward the bedroom. As he leads you into the softly lit space, the glow from the bedside lamp dances delicately across the room. He helps you sit on the edge of the bed, his touch light and reassuring as he tenderly dries you off with the towel. Every move he makes is infused with care, a quiet promise that you’re safe here with him.

"You want to wear one of my shirts to sleep, or would you prefer one of your own?" Robby's voice carries a gentle chuckle, the warmth of his fondness for you evident in the way he shakes his head. He knows, as well as you do, that there’s a certain comfort in his shirts—maybe it’s because they hold a lingering scent of him that wraps around you like a comforting embrace. "Why am I even asking?" he adds, his smile softening the moment. "You always choose my shirt."

He opens a drawer and pulls out a well-loved grey t-shirt, the fabric soft from countless nights. With care, he helps you slip it over your head, the material draping around you so that you seem almost swallowed by it. It’s oversized, hanging loosely off your frame, yet you look completely adorable. Robby's heart swells as he takes in the sight of you in his shirt. Seeing you so vulnerable, with your eyes still shimmering from recent tears, ignites an overwhelming urge to protect you. He turns back to the drawer, pulling out a pair of his boxers, and holds them out to you with a warm, gentle expression.

“Might as well complete the look, right?”

Once the clothing is set, Robby moves over to the TV, flicking it on and scrolling through the streaming options. He’s already thinking of your favorite comfort show, a tender smile blooming on his face as he spots it.

“I’ll be right back,” he murmurs, his hand resting on your shoulder, giving it a reassuring squeeze. As he steps out of the bedroom, he moves quietly down the hallway, each footfall a whisper against the soft floor. His heart is heavy with concern, still tangled in the worry of what had brought those tears to your eyes in the shower.

In the kitchen, he piles a tray high with goodies. As Robby returns to the bedroom, his heart races as he gently pushes the door open. The sight of you perched on the bed in his oversized clothes makes his heart flutter.

"I come bearing snacks," he announces softly, a gentle smile breaking through the weight of the moment as he sets the tray down on the nightstand beside you. Climbing onto the bed, he settles close, longing to be the comfort you need. He takes the remote in hand and starts your favorite show. The sound of the theme song fills the room like a warm embrace. As the episode plays, his hand instinctively rubs your back. As the show plays in the background, you cast a tender glance in Robby's direction. Seeing your gaze on him, he turns to meet yours, his expression immediately softening.

"What?" He asks softly, his hand still moving in gentle circles.

The words escape your lips softly, your voice barely above a whisper. "I don't deserve you."

Robby can feel his heart squeeze at your words. He turns to face you fully, his eyes locking with yours. His hands reach out to cup your face again, his touch gentle.

"Don't ever say that," he says firmly, his voice low and steady. "You deserve everything, do you hear me?" As you nod, a small gesture of acknowledgement, Robby's heart clenches a little. He can see the doubt in your eyes, the self-doubt that's leading you to such harsh words about yourself.

He leans in, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead. When he pulls back, he keeps his hands on your face, holding your gaze. "You're everything to me," he murmurs, his voice barely above a whisper. "You're kind, you're smart, you're gorgeous, and you're stubborn as hell." He lets out a soft chuckle, trying to lighten the mood. "And you always steal my shirts." He brushes away a stray, damp strand of hair that's fallen across your face, tucking it behind your ear. Robby's voice is gentle but firm as he speaks, the soft glow of the TV illuminating the bedroom. "Sweetheart," he says, his hands still framing your face. "Now, will you tell me what's wrong?"

He holds your gaze, his eyes searching yours, full of love and concern. He wants, no, needs to understand what's causing you this pain, what's led you to cry so deeply in the shower. As you explain the events of your day, Robby listens intently. He knows how hardworking you are, the endless hours you put into your job. He sees the physical and mental exhaustion etched on your face, and his protective instincts kick into overdrive.

As you describe your attempts to find coverage for your shift so you could have a day off.

“Someone put on my account that I only came in to clock in and clock out so I wouldn’t get as many points.” You sigh angrily before continuing, “I’m already high with points, not that it takes much there.”

You continue, the stress of the situation evident in your voice. "And tomorrow... tomorrow, I'll probably get into more trouble. They might... they might even fire me."

Tears begin to well up in your eyes, the weight of your worries crashing down on you like a tidal wave. "If I lose my job... I can't pay my rent," you manage to choke out, your voice trembling. "I won't be able to make my car payments. I'll... I'll have nothing left." He instinctively pulls you closer, wrapping his arms around you in a protective embrace. Your body shakes as fresh tears spill down your cheeks, each sob a reflection of the immense pressure you're under.

He presses his cheek against the crown of your head. "No," he whispers. "That isn't an option. I won't allow it." He draws back just enough to meet your gaze, his eyes filled with an unwavering determination. "We’ll find a way through this, alright? You’re not going to lose everything. You’ve got me by your side. Together, we’ll figure it out."

“I-I can’t, Robby. I don’t want to be a burden. You have enough going on as is.”

His heart aches at your words, a blend of love and frustration evident on his face. Gently, he cradles your face in his hands, his thumbs softly wiping away the tears that fall down your cheeks.

"You’re not a burden," he promises, his gaze never wavering. "Not to me. You never will be." He takes a deep breath, bracing himself for the weight of his next words. "I know I’ve got enough on my plate, but when it comes to you. I’m willing to do anything.”

Your voice is soft, filled with emotion as you whisper, "I love you so much."

"I love you more," he responds without hesitation. He guides your body closer with gentle pressure, wanting to feel your warmth against him. Robby wraps his arms around you, his grip strong and secure. He presses a lingering kiss against your forehead, his lips remaining connected to your skin for a moment longer, as if conveying a silent promise of unwavering support.

"We got this," he whispers, his voice filled with firm reassurance. His thumb gently traces along your jawline, the gesture tender and comforting. "You and me against the world."

A small, hesitant smile tugs at the corner of your lips at his words. Despite the weight of your worries, you find solace in his presence, in the unyielding support that he offers.

"You might regret saying that," you reply, a hint of amusement in your voice. "I can cause quite a bit of chaos, you know."

A gentle scoff escapes Robby's lips. "Oh, I'm well aware, sweetheart," he says, his voice laced with a mix of affection and humor. "But I can handle your brand of chaos."

As you press a gentle kiss to Robby's lips, a soft sigh escapes his throat. He returns the kiss with equal tenderness, his lips gently massaging yours, his eyes fluttering shut for a brief moment. He gently breaks the kiss, his forehead pressing lightly against yours. In the soft glow of the bedroom, his eyes meet yours, a mixture of love and reassurance radiating from his gaze.

As you lean in for another kiss, this one deeper and more earnest, Robby responds instinctively. His lips eagerly meet yours, molding against yours with a growing passion. He deepens the kiss, his mouth opening slightly as he captures your lower lip between his, his tongue delicately seeking entry. His hands, which had been gently clutching your waist, begin to wander across your back, tracing intricate patterns along your spine, pulling you closer, erasing any space that was left between you.

The world fades into the background as the kiss becomes the center of Robby's attention, his need to be closer to you overshadowing everything else.

Time seems to stand still as he loses himself in the sensations, the taste and feel of you consuming his senses completely. His heart pounds against his chest, a rapid rhythm that mirrors the kiss's intensity. His fingers find their way into your hair, tangling in the silken strands, his touch possessive yet tender all at once. Robby finally breaks the kiss, not because he wants to end it, but because he needs to catch his breath. He pulls back just enough to meet your gaze, his eyes still dark with desire, his breathing slightly ragged.

As Robby catches his breath, he presses his forehead to yours, savoring the closeness.

"Sweetheart," he whispers, his voice thick with emotion. "We don't need to go any further tonight." He pulls back, just enough to look into your eyes. "You need to rest, okay? You've had an emotionally draining day; the last thing you need is to exhaust yourself even more."

He gently brushes a strand of hair from your face, his touch tender and warm. "We've got all the time in the world tomorrow. For now, let's just get some sleep." A soft, exhausted sigh escapes your lips as you nod, the weight of your emotion still lingering. The idea of simply resting and letting go for the night sounds like a welcome respite.

"You're right," you concede, a weary but grateful smile playing on your lips. "I'm just... overwhelmed, I guess."

Robby pulls you closer, guiding you gently back onto the bed, positioning you against his chest. He drapes the covers over your bodies, enveloping you both in a warm, snug embrace. As you curl closer against him, Robby's arms instinctively tighten around you, pulling you into the warmth of his body. He gently rubs soothing circles on your back, his touch slow and steady.

"Just relax," he murmurs, his voice a low, comforting rumble in his chest. "Close your eyes and let me hold you."

He presses a gentle kiss to the top of your head, the gesture both tender and protective. "I've got you, sweetheart."

Gradually, the tension in your body begins to ease, the rhythm of Robby's steady breaths and the soothing touch of his hand rubbing your back acting as a lullaby. A tired sigh escapes your lips as your eyelids flutter, growing heavier. The exhaustion that has weighed on you all day starts to melt away in the warm haven of his arms.

#noah wyle #fanfiction #the pitt #michael robinavitch x reader #michael robinavitch #michael “robby” Robinavitch #the pitt hbo

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thebitsandblurbs · 2 months ago

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Marathon

Prompt: Analyst!FemReader x Jack Abbot x Michael "Robby" Robinavitch

Warning: None... Slow burn?

Author's Prompt: I literally told myself I was going to write every day, but as Finals Week goes, that didn't happen 😅. But yay, multi-pairing... well, not yet- but soon!

When the race started, he kept to your side for the first few miles. Though upbeat, it was clear that he was self-conscious of his peers. Rather than keeping his eyes forward, his focus darted from runner to runner.

As the amount of runners grew thinner with each passing minute, he soon left you in the dust which was fine.

Pacing was important- you knew this. By the first portion of the thon, it was just you, your playlist, and the sound of your breaths.

Towards the end, you noticed your friend staggering along before collapsing. He seemed disorientated. His legs struggled to carry him even a step forward. Other runners passed him with a glance and a look of pity, but did nothing.

Speeding up, you got to his side. Concern was plastered on your face as he used you as support. “Hey, man-“

“I can do it- I can do it.” He mumbled, more to himself than to you. His feet slipped against the burning concrete, arms pushing against you, threatening to throw off your balance. Shaking your head, you sighed.

He owes you for this.

“Alright, c’mon,” you murmured, slinging his arm across your shoulders and wrapping your other arm around his side. The height difference was substantial, making it somewhat of an awkward stance. Regardless, you made it work- you had to make it work. No way were you going to leave a thon uncompleted, or make this a bad experience for him.

A part of you felt that you should have gotten help, but at this point, you were locked in.

Commit. You have to commit.

Those words echoed over and over. Each step re-started the mantra.

The journey was slow, and people passed you by without so much as a second glance. The cheering of the crowd grew more intense the closer you got; but the closer you got, the heavier he felt. Honestly, if you had dropped him, he would be none the wiser.

On your second -or maybe third- adjustment, you felt his weight shift. Lighter surprisingly. Either that or you actually followed through with dropping him. But you didn’t-

Peering to your left, you could see another guy- probably the same height as your friend- had taken his other side. He gave you a nod, and together, all three of you passed through together. Frankly, he definitely took most of the weight. At this point, you felt more like an accessory than actual help.

Medics were there to take him from you as soon as you all passed that finish line.

You were exhausted enough from doing the race, but that extra burst had you beat. Hands on your hips, you bent forward as you try to catch your breath and clear the rapidly multiplying stars in your vision. The tell tale signs you were going to faint.

“You good?” The stranger asked, guiding you to a nearby chair.

“Yea, just tired.” You huffed, leaning into the back of the chair. “Thanks…”

It took a moment for you to catch your breath. By the time you opened your eyes, you find yourself peering into crystal blue eyes. He seemed somewhat concerned for your wellbeing.

Robby couldn't help but stare at you. Something about you just drew him closer. With Collins, it was a feeling that grew but with you- it was just there. He was concerned about you, there was no doubt about it.

And rightfully so, you were unnaturally pale and your breathing was still rather heavy. Drops of sweat dribbled down your face before being wiped away. Someone gave you a cool wash cloth, and God, was it appreciated.

“If you don’t mind, I’ll just sit with you for a few moments.” He said as he took a chair. His hand was out for you to shake by the time his back pressed against the seat backing. “Michael, but everyone calls me ‘Robby’.”

“Y/N,” you tell him, “Robby?”

“My last name is Robinavitch. ‘Robby’ sounds a lot friendlier.”

“Teacher?”

“Close enough, but doctor.”

“Oh.”

“You?”

“Analyst.”

He won't deny it, he was a little disappointed. Some fantasy in the back of his head imagined you showing up through the ER doors, claiming that it's your first day.

It was idle chatter for a while- shallow things anyone could find on a LinkedIn or FaceBook Profile. After about 15 minutes, you saw someone approach the two of you. It looked like he was also a participant, going by the number plastered on his chest.

“Robby, I got to the finish line- Jake said he saw you go into the Medic’s tent.”

“Yea, one of the runners had some trouble staying on his feet. Y/N and I helped him cross. Jack, this is Y/N. Y/N, Jack.”

Contrary to Robby, his companion was shorter. His hair was greying, but it suited him. Overall, he seemed serious. In fact, his eyes bore into your very being. His face said nothing, but his general energy was unnerving to say the least.

You couldn’t help but shrink away from the cold stare emitting from the man before you. You did, however, offer a small wave before turning your attention back to your friend. He seemed to be doing better, considering he was doing his best to flirt with the female medic.

After your friend was well enough to get back on his feet, he insisted on taking you all out for dinner. After some insistence, you went back to you apartment to get refreshed and changed.

That social battery you had, it was awfully low today. A part of you just wanted to get back in bed, but at the same time, you wanted to see him again.

Robby- he seemed like a nice fellow.

You were a tad late having walked from your apartment, but you had just caught up with them when they were getting seated by the waitress.

It was kind of a nice dinner. You had expected it to be an awkward one given you all had just met, but Alistar kept the conversation going. The topic transitions were smooth, segueing into the next interesting topic. In a way, you kind of envied him- out of the two of you, he was the more social one.

More than once, do you catch yourself ogling at them. When one or the other turn to meet your gaze, you look away almost immediately. Every now again, you sip the glass of water by your right.

By the end of dinner, you all had gotten to know each other rather well but not enough to call each other friends.

You stayed long enough to have another drink with Alistar before heading out.

Just about a block away you encountered the two men again, but they looked rather heated. Opting to stay out of it, you tried to sneak around them, intent on avoiding any eye contact or look in their general direction. Though you caught a glimpse of Jack's eyes as you passed, and as you have done in the past, you quickly look away.

As you left them behind, a part of you hopes that you would see them again.

Part 2:

#jack abbot #jack abbot x reader #the pitt fan fiction #the pitt #michael robinavitch #michael “robby” robinavitch #jack abbot x reader x michael robinavitch #jack abbot x you #michael robinavitch x reader #michael robinavich x reader #michael robinavitch x you #age gap romance #cw age gap #cw age difference

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