#michael robinavitch

[science-hoes]

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

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

“Why is my stethoscope bedazzled?”

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

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

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

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

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

“What the fuck is a Labubu?”

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

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

[doctorrobinavitch]

Outstanding Drama Series - The Pitt Outstanding Lead Actor in a Drama Series - Noah Wyle, The Pitt Outstanding Supporting Actress in a Drama Series - Katherine LaNasa, The Pitt Outstanding Guest Actor in a Drama Series - Shawn Hatosy, The Pitt

[wesandresons]

You wouldn't let anyone else blame themselves for this. Time to give yourself some grace.

[supremehavok]

Cake and Ice Cream | m.r

plot: Robby’s teenage daughter comes in with stomach pains and puts all her trust in you, her father’s girlfriend. No pressure!

category: fluff and a little bit of angst

c/w: surgery (appendicitis), inaccurate medical depictions (I’m not a doctor I just play one on tv), IVs (not descriptive), no use of y/n

w/c: 3.1k

a/n: girldad!Robby yayy! I loved the idea of Robby with a teen daughter who’s like 5’10” (I come from a family of a lot of tall women and they’re awesome), athletic and independent but still needs her dad to sing to her when she’s afraid and hold her hand. The story is a bit split between the readers involvement and the b-plot of the relationship between Robby and his daughter and I’m really sorry if it feels like I got too into the b-plot. Also I’m sorry I gave her a name and I’m sorry if you hate it it just felt slightly silly to try and work around no one ever saying her name. Jess Robinavitch sounded fairly natural to me so I hope it’s not too egregious lol. And yeah I know there’s already a Jesse in the show but it’s fine lol

You didn’t get to see the sun rise that morning; early shifts in the wintertime skewed your perception of time. It was awful when an hour passed, but never getting a chance to glance out the window ends up tricking you into believing half of the day had already passed. After discharging your third patient of the day, you took a minute at the hub to sit down in front of an empty computer and rest your eyes. You didn’t bother to check your watch; it would just disappoint you.

You kept your head limp in your hand, slow breaths that betrayed how drained you already were. Every time footsteps pattered around behind you, you hoped and prayed they didn’t ask for you. In your little moment of rest, you were in bed, a warm bed beside a very warm man. It was wishful thinking since you woke up alone this morning; Robby had to be at an attending meeting and budget conference for the entire morning, and frankly, you were just missing him. You became so accustomed to seeing him every other night, seeing him almost every day shift as you both crossed paths and stood across from one another in trauma rooms. It felt silly, missing him when you were just in his bed a few hours ago, but love had a way of overriding all that seemed logical and rational at times.

When someone finally tapped you on the shoulder, you groaned, your shoulders falling slack for just a moment before straightening up and swinging around on your chair. 

“You got a patient in exam two,” Donnie pointed over his shoulder. 

You wordlessly nodded with a tired smile, your hand sluggishly moving to rub the back of your neck, stalling for a moment. You finally stepped out of the rolling chair and took the patient chart from Donnie. You took a quick glance and nearly tripped on your own two feet.

Jessica Robinavitch.

The ink smeared writing was waiting above the horizontal line at the top of the chart. You looked over at Donnie walking beside you towards the exam room, a slight raise of your eyebrow evident. “Does Robby know she’s here?” you asked.

“Doubt it. She didn’t even want Dana seeing you walk in,” he muttered just as he reached out and pulled the curtain back on the room. 

Jess lay back on the exam bed. Light blue and silver volleyball uniform with the big 10 on the front of the jersey. Her arms were crossed over her stomach like a protective shield, her features curled into a mix of wince and grimace. The second your amber eyes stopped focusing on the floor below and looked up, both you and Donnie reached back and closed the curtain around you all and perked up. 

“Hey Jess,” you took a seat on the stool behind you. Your eyes roamed her patient chart. “You’re having some abdominal pain? Feeling warm too?”

“Already took her temp; 102.8°.”

“Where does it hurt right now?”

Jess moved her hand down the length of her stomach and gestured carefully around the area of her right side, just beside her navel. You pushed your foot to budge your stool closer to the exam bed. After snapping on some gloves, you hovered over Jess’s stomach before pressing on the spot; even the slightest pressure made her jolt upright and hiss. You took her temperature again, the number slowly creeping to 103°. 

You gave Jess a soft look, taking in how her skin looked slightly sallow under the hospital lights. “Your dad’s upstairs; I can go get him if you want,” you offered. 

You were unsure; you could go forward and ultrasound her and order the necessary tests, but it felt wrong. You had the feeling Jess was only just getting used to having you around, and you were trying to push your luck considering you and Robby spent so much time together even outside the hospital: dinners with Jess at home and going to her games whenever possible. You wanted her to like you; she wasn’t ever rude or uninviting, but before you came along, Robby was raising her all on his own, and you understood how close they were. You didn’t want to be the thing that swooped in and removed the fleeting quality time she had with Robby. 

To your surprise, Jess shook her head. “No. I don’t want him to freak out. Mia’s mom brought me in because my fever spiked this morning. I’m hoping I just ate something bad at her house.”

You scribbled a line for labs on her chart as you nodded in understanding. “Then your secret is safe with me. We’re going to run some tests just to rule out a few things. I’ll do an ultrasound on your stomach as well. I’m more worried about the placement of your pain than anything. If it’s anything more serious than food poisoning or intolerance, I might have to get your dad down here. He’ll need to sign consent forms,” you explained before adding, “Or else I’ll end up on his shit list indefinitely.” 

Jess snorted, her hands still clutching her tender abdomen. “I hate the shit list. A few weeks ago I ate the last Biscoff cookie in the pantry, so he moped around the house like a depressed ghost, and then that same night he just so happened to cook my least favorite food for dinner.”

“That really thick buckwheat pasta?”

“Yes,” you could actually see Jess’s lip curl in disgust for a split second, “for a man pushing fifty-five, he’s real petty sometimes.”

“But you love him.”

“But I love him.”

It took a solid hour and a half to get all of the labs back, and after you did an ultrasound on Jess’s stomach, you came to a clear diagnosis. Appendicitis. Her appendix hadn’t burst, but it definitely needed to come out as soon as possible. You sent a nurse to tell Garcia up in surgery to schedule an OR by the end of the day for Jess, and just as you were about to leave and find Robby, you came face-to-face with him as you pulled the curtain back. 

“Appendicitis, OR is getting scheduled,” you said immediately but calmly. You could see the storm in his eyes, that special kind of worry he felt when it came to Jess. “Nothing burst. She’s just a little bit uncomfortable.”

Robby glanced over your head at his daughter in the bed, phone in her hand and scrolling. He gave your shoulders a little squeeze and an appreciative curl of his lips, mouthing a sincere “Thank you,” before stepping around you to sit beside Jess’s bed. 

“Hey, kiddo. How are you feeling?” Robby muttered, his hand resting on her free hand and rubbing lazy circles with his thumb.

“A bit disappointed. They don’t give you the good stuff for the pain unless my appendix bursts,” the sixteen-year-old joked with a tight smile. Upon looking back at Robby’s unamused stare, she softened, playful guilt in her eyes. “Kidding. I’m fine, just want to get this over with. Feels like there's a lead ball in my stomach.”

“We’ll get you into the OR as soon as we can,” he assured.

There was a twitch in his foot, a restlessness that was betraying the sureness he was giving off to Jess. Outside this exam room was a busy ED with no attending in sight; he’d already been gone all morning in meetings, and the waiting room was packed with patients still pinging about in exam rooms awaiting beds upstairs. You could tell he knew he needed to get back out there and run the show, but he also didn’t want to make any sudden moves that would lead to him leaving Jess sitting around waiting for her surgery alone. 

“I can stay with her for a bit longer,” you spoke up in the withholding silence. “Princess will be back around to do her pre-op IV, and she’ll keep an eye on her while I’m away. I’ll page you when she’s ready to go upstairs for surgery.” 

There was only a brief flash of hesitation swimming in Robby’s eyes before he squeezed Jess’s hand and kissed her forehead, whispering against her hairline before standing up to leave the exam room. Just as he walked past, you felt his hand grasp yours, a gentle acknowledgment and a tired yet loving look for you before leaving to join the circus outside as paramedics burst through the doors with a fresh trauma waiting for care. 

You stayed with Jess until Princess walked in with the antibiotics for the IV. You felt like your tongue was tied, trying to create appropriate parting words. After Robby had left, you watched Jess become a bit more anxious; the inevitable event of an OR being ready was looming, and that knowledge seemed to put the girl on edge.

Going under the knife was no joke, even for a routine procedure, and the mind always had a way of making someone feel like they're the one in a million that won’t recover. You didn’t know Jess as well as you’d like, but she never seemed like the type to be afraid easily. She always stood tall, sure of herself, and loved to take up space happily. She would stand next to Robby sometimes, and you’d see how alike they were; even if you were just talking about appearances, it was uncanny—she could nearly match him in height, and they had the same dark hair and eyes. You could see all of the values Robby tried to instill in her for years; it was all still present, but it was overtaken by her discomfort and fear that were shrinking her right before your eyes.

You tentatively moved your hand out, hovering near hers to see if she’d take it. She barely glanced at your hand before taking it tightly, her palm clammy with anxiety. 

“We’re going to take care of you, yeah?” you said softly. “When you’re ready to go up, I’ll make sure your dad’s head is with you.” It’ll be all over soon, and then you’ll get to eat day-old hospital food in a recovery room.”

Jess closed her eyes and allowed herself to resign to a smile as the back of her head rested against the stiff pillow behind her. “Can’t wait.”

You were in the middle of signing off on some tests for a patient when Dana told you the OR was ready for Jess. You paged Robby a minute later just as they began to move Jess out of the exam room and towards the elevator. Robby gave the brief “Listen to the senior resident while I’m gone” speech to anyone who was around before stepping into the elevator.

While the surgeons scrubbed in the other room, Robby sat on the sliver of stiff mattress. He mindlessly adjusted the flimsy surgical cap on Jess’s head, tucking in nonexistent loose strands. 

“How long am I going to have to take it easy after this?” Jess muttered.

“Six weeks. Maybe a bit more, and you might end up having to sit out the rest of the season.”

“Is that the medically accurate estimation or yours?” she raised an eyebrow skeptically, the tone in her voice indicating she already had an answer in mind. 

“There’s an MD by my name, isn’t there? All of my answers are medically accurate—“

“Until proven otherwise.”

“You’re going to have a lot of healing ahead of you. You don’t need to put any unnecessary strain on yourself and risk breaking open your stitches or aggravating your body after it’s been through something like this.” Robby’s words held a subtle plea, the plea of a man who was used to arguing with his hardheaded daughter, who practically took joy in making an argument out of thin air just so she could practice making her case. 

“Yeah, but the whole season? C’mon, this isn’t even—” the words stopped short.

“We’ll talk about this afterwards. Can you live with that?”

Jess relented with a sigh and a nod. She tossed her head back on the pillow to try and relax, but Robby knew better. He could see her fingers trembling, her eyes darting, and the restlessness in her legs under the thin blanket.

“Are you nervous?” he asked, a bit rhetorically, but he pushed that notion aside. 

“A little, I guess,” Jess tried to shrug, but the motion felt ridiculous given her much more sincere body language. She let her head lazily turn away from her father and glance at the tubing of her IV before turning back to face him. Her eyes focused just above his head as she sheepishly asked, “Don’t laugh, but could you sing the song?”

Robby raises his eyebrows, surprised but not so much that he even thinks to question it any further. He nodded before moving slightly closer and putting his arm over Jess’s shoulder to keep her to his side. He cleared his throat in an attempt to delay for a moment. 

“If I go a million miles away, I'd write a letter each and every day. Because honey, nothing can ever change this love I have for you,” his voice came out in a near whisper just shy of an actual tune, as if he was afraid of anyone hearing him except for Jess.

“Make me weep, and you can make me cry. See me coming and you can pass me by, but honey, nothing, nothing can ever change this love I have for you.”

Jess let her neck rest and dropped her head fully down on her father’s chest. The rumble of his softly spoken tune vibrating against her ear and making her feel like she was six years old again, being comforted under the glow of a nightlight in a dark bedroom.

“You're the apple of my eye, you're cherry pie. Your cake and ice cream. Your sugar and spice, and everything nice. You're the girl of my dreams.”

The door to the room opened, but the sound seemed to fade into the background as Garcia stepped inside to tell them the OR and surgeons were ready. The scuff of her shoes stopped rigidly; she felt like her back was glued to the door and her words were caught in her throat. Her surgical mask was thankfully still pulled up so it covered the expressions she was glad to keep hidden.

“But if you wanted to leave me and roam. When you got back, I'd just say, welcome home, because honey, nothing, nothing, nothing can ever change this love I have for you.” The lasting lyrics felt final, Robby’s voice as quiet as a passing breeze. He felt his daughter’s shoulders release obvious tension; he even suspected her jaw stopped clenching. 

Garcia cleared her throat. “Ready?”

Sixty minutes. Routinely performed, and a clean scar on Jess’s abdomen is proof. Garcia let out a long groan as she scrubbed out because even though Robby stayed in the viewing gallery the entire time, she could feel his eyes on her and the team like a sniper laser after every incision and every pull of thread afterwards. It was a relief to not feel like she was burning up under a protective paternal microscope anymore. 

You waited outside the recovery room, your pager on your hip staying silent—for now. You shuffled your feet around awkwardly until the door opened and Robby slinked out through the small sliver he opened for himself. “She’s still pretty out of it. She’ll probably nod off in a few minutes,” he said as he carefully closed the door.

“Everything went well then?” you opted to confirm.

“Everything went great,” he nodded. Robby glanced around at the still scene of the surgical ward before speaking again. “Thank you so much for everything you did today. You’ve been amazing, more than I could ask for.” 

You felt taken aback but definitely not unappreciative. A warmth spread to your cheeks, and you smiled without truly meaning to move the muscles. “You don’t need to thank me. I was happy to help.” 

Robby looked at you as his eyebrows furrowed ever so slightly. You could practically see the cogs turning, the creases around his eyes telling you that he was most likely overthinking.

“I love you so much.” The words were quiet, intimate, and powerful as they left his lips. “I mean it. You were everything today. Jess said you made her feel safe when I wasn’t there. I can’t explain how much that fucking means to me. She’s grateful, and I’m grateful.” 

“Grateful enough to rub my back after this shift is over?” you teased, but the slight tremble in your voice betrayed your true feelings.

“Oh yeah,” he chuckled softly.

You swallowed thickly, “I love you too. Jess is so special to you, and I hope she knows how special she is to me too. You two are a family, and I don’t ever want to intrude on that or force myself into the dynamic you and she have, but I do really love you, and I hope one day I can find my place within that dynamic.” You never thought it would feel so scary and suffocating to wear your heart on your sleeve like that, but the lump forming in your throat showed you otherwise.

“You never have to force your way into anything. You’re always welcome. If you’d have us, that is.”

“Of course I would.”

Everything felt settled like dust after a crash. Robby’s eyes softened in a gaze, a gaze he reserved only for you and one you were only used to seeing in the amber light of a dim bedroom and not here under terrible fluorescent shadows. It was a look you wished you could capture and look at forever, but your current environment was still so painfully obvious. The pitt consumed all that entered until they spit them all out for shift change.

“I should get back in there,” Robby said, glancing at the closed door behind him. “She’s still a bit hazy from the anesthetic. She kept saying she wanted to keep the appendix and put it in a jar on the mantle above the fireplace.”

“Right next to all that Indiana Jones shit you keep there beside all those Christmas cards,” you raised an eyebrow.

“I’m going to pretend you didn’t just call my childhood collection ‘shit,’ and I’ll see you later tonight.” Robby reached out and cupped your cheek in his hand, letting the touch linger before pulling back and leaving back into the recovery room. 

The warmth on your cheek seemed to stick around even as you went into the elevator. You glanced regretfully at your watch, grimacing at the time and hitting the floor number for the ED. The fuzzy feeling of hearing Robby say, “I love you,” hopefully keeps you motivated to make it until shift change.

[flofaiiry]

Are you still taking mood board requests? I’d love a robby x reader med school days one 🥺🥺🥺 Ugh I love the idea of intense yearning, hushed sleep-deprived confessions in the library, coffee dates, falling asleep while studying.

ᯓ you start out as friends, meeting through seats in a lecture hall or study group. you get close- fast- and before you know it you're spending every waking moment together. studying, sleeping, eating- all of it's together. little did you know though, your friends had a running bet of when you'd finally confess and start dating.

ᯓ somehow robby miraculously knows when you're on the verge of burning out- it's like he has a spidey sense for it. he'll coax you away from whatever textbook you're buried in and drag you down the street to your favourite coffee shop for the promise of an hour long break that always turns into more because you get lost in conversation.

send me a character & a trope/reader and i'll make a little moodboard !! <3

... dedicated to shea @erwinsvow who's starting her second year of med school soon and also happens to be deep in her robby era woooooo!!!!! this one is for u gal <3

[erwinsvow]

robby lets down the very sweet first year who looks at him with stars in her eyes very gently. talks to you nice and slowly about the inappropriate age gap and power imbalance and all the reasons why whatever was going on between you two is wrong and needs to stop. (all that was going on was overly friendly arm touches and a lot of back and forth and how prettily you smile at him when he helps you save someone’s life in a new way for the first time, and ask him if he wants to get a drink with you after the shift to celebrate.) unfortunately you are very nice and nod and agree with him and shake your head like you’re stupid for thinking you and robby could possibly be anything more than just an intern and her attending. you go home and mope about it and drink wine about it and then try to move on, like a mature person would. unfortunately when robby learns that you and some surgery resident went on what seems to be a very good first date, he becomes the most immature person alive.

[aryacoulson]

the way he removes his glasses in that first gif is so slutty.

Noah Wyle as Dr. Michael Robinavitch THE PITT | 1.01

[m-robinavitch]

Michael ‘Robby’ Robinavitch x Reader

Warnings: 18+ MDNI, soft dom!Robby, p in v sex, orgasm denial

Summary: Trying to shower before work but Robby has other ideas

“Michael-“ you were whining into the feeling of his teeth and lips just grazing over your neck because he knew it would make you whine for him, “I’m gonna be late.” You were technically already late. Exhausted after last night, you didn’t exactly clean up afterwards so you needed to shower before you left Robby’s. But he also needed to shower and innocently slipped in to join you under the hot steamy water at first. Hot and steamy it was, but now for an entirely different reason.

“Yeah?” He asked, not caring about your words much, pulling your back flush against his chest with one hand holding your jaw to tilt at a slight angle so he can nip and kiss easily- the other hand gripping at your own chest, soapy and easily gliding over your perked nipples- scratching just lightly to hear your sighs. “Is your boss gonna be a jerk about it?”

“He can- fuck, he can be such an asshole,” you nod- moaning slightly while pushing your ass into his hips to try and entice him for a bit more stimulation, “but he’s kinda cute, so it makes it worth it.” He chuckled at your words, now biting the lobe of your ear while the hand that was teasing your breasts slid down your body. He was more than half hard, woke up that way because you move so fucking much in your sleep that you had been rubbing against him all night. Just enough to cause an aching feeling but not enough for a release.

“Doesn’t sound like you make it easy for him,” you sigh when his fingers finally breached the top of your pussy- slowly starting to rub your clit with scarcely enough pressure to make the ache really go away, “being late, lusting after him on the job- maybe you stress him out?” Robby pushes his hips into your ass and slides his thick cock between your thigh- teasing through the crease of your wet folds to help the throbbing ache dissipate for a moment while he rubs slow circles on your clit with calloused fingers.

“Can’t- fuck, can’t help it-“ the feeling of his heavy cock gliding between your wet lower lips is too much- you wish he’d just slip inside you but, fuck it was so good at the same time. “Looks so good when he’s mad.” Wasn’t a lie- Robby’s voice when mad was deep and rough, akin to a fucking growl and you hated how even when he yelling at you and Langdon for poaching patients from the urgent care clinic across the street- you got wet. You’d bite your lip as he crossed his arms, or when he’d pull off his glasses in frustration. It was your fault and in those moments you accept whatever punishments he decided for you. And he’s doling out a punishment now, fingers working achingly slow against your wet pussy and fucking laughing as you whimper. You’re squeezing your thighs together as much as you could, trying to stop the pressure from his fingers but it just makes it’s so much better as he fucks the space between your legs, wetness from the shower and your own body mixing to help the slide. Every drag of his cock- each back and forth motion he made would have you sigh and whine because you swear you feel him at your entrance a little more each time. If you could just angle your hips- he’d slide in perfectly. It would feel so good and you’re already fucking late- there was no reason to hurry now.

“I knew you did it on purpose,” he groaned, the hand that was holding your jaw lowered and began to pinch and pull your nipples, pulling away for a moment to slap at your breast before turning to push you against the cold tile wall. The contrasting feeling biting into your skin, ice cold tile pebbling your nipples and fire along your back from Robby’s chest. “Love to piss me off on purpose. Is that what gets you off sweetheart?” Fuck- so he wasn’t going to let it go. You had teased Robby within an inch of his life yesterday. You were off from work and bored and missed him so much. But that was besides the point. You forgot to set an alarm last night amidst Robby fucking you into the mattress- so you woke up and realized you had 10 minutes to get ready. It was not nearly enough time. He knew that. That’s why he’s here now- rutting into the space between your thighs and groaning when you try to close them because it’s just adding to the tightness and pleasure. “I asked you a fucking question angel.” He notched himself at your entrance- teasing the hole while he waited.

“Y-yes, fuck I like getting you ma-” you were cut off with a gasp, he gave you no time to adjust. Robby slammed into you so hard you’re sure the air from your lungs was pushed out due to the force of it. You couldn’t breathe and there was nowhere to go besides into the tiles as he started at a brutal pace. One of his strong arms comes around your waist so he can keep you still between him and the wall while he fucks into you. He doesn’t make any noise besides grunts and the occasional ‘fuck’ while he shoves his cock up into you. The water was hot, the steam rising in the air and it choked you more as you felt yourself be rearranged by him. The pressure and force was too much- and Robby was getting annoyed by having to bend a little to get his dick inside your cunt so the arm around your waist pulled tighter as he straightened out. You were barely on the tips of your toes- but in reality you were mostly being held up by Robby and his relentless pace while he fucked you. You felt your walls flutter and spasm around his thick cock while he kept dragging himself in and out of you. But with a harsh slap to your ass he spoke-

“No one said you can cum, you’re not fucking cumming yet. You need to ask me first sweetheart.” If you could fucking ask you would- but he was so deep and every thrust shoved you into the tiles that the pressure on the top of your pussy just affected your clit ever so slightly. It was so much. It was so good that you tried to claw at the walls for something to hang on to because your thighs started to shake from the force of him inside you.

“Please- baby please I need to cum. Let me- fuck let me fucking cum-” he laughed- Robby fucking laughed at your words and he felt himself start to pull at the string deep inside of his gut. He was close and one disastrous clenching of your tight pussy around him was enough to push him over the edge. He came with a growl- something low and deep and painful almost while he spilled deep inside you and released the hold he had around your waist so you were fully touching the tiles under your feet now. You were dazed- breathing heavy and almost seeing stars from the heat of the steamy water and embers of the denied orgasm smoldering in your gut. You whimpered- fucking whined because Robby’s hand dipped down to collect him dripping from down your thigh and shove back inside you with a kiss to your temple.

“You came enough last night- maybe later.” What. Oh- he’s being mean. “And don’t try to use the shower head either- we’re gonna be late angel.” An endearing slap to your ass and he’s out the shower- leaving you breathless and needy. Oh okay- fine. He’s playing a dangerous game. He will be dealt with today- he can’t hide the red face he gets no matter how hard he tries. Good.

[oldermenfucker]

[divorcedfranklangdon]

how it feels trying to get any amount of gossip out of your male coworker

[borbalalikesdocs]

there's something absolutely hot about the way this man curses

dr. michael "robby" robinavitch + fuck!

THE PITT (2025-)

[cosmic-whispers]

When I'm Above the Trees - Michael 'Robby' Robinavitch x Reader

Summary: Heather Collins sees a lot. She sees how Robby is with you. And how you are with him. And she watches you fall in love. A story of heartbreak, healing, and moving on. Inspired by happiness by Taylor Swift.

Warnings: Collins pov (she is NOT villianized in this, but it’s v angsty for her but with a hopeful ending), fem!reader/robby endgame (age gap mentioned, not specified), attending!reader, mention of attempted suicide patient, violence against healthcare workers, jealousy/self-worth issues/insecurity, medical inaccuracies, no use of y/n

Words: 4.2k

Notes: Hi, coming out of writing retirement with this little fic because I’m in love with this man. This is my first go at writing for the pitt, so please let me know what you think! The news from earlier this week about Tracy was very disappointing. Collins was amazing and deserves the world, and it makes me sad that we won't see her again.

In hindsight, she was blinded. It was obvious, right from the beginning. 

When you were first hired on as the new attending at PTMC a few months ago, Heather actually liked you. You were young, had been an attending for just a year before joining the Pitt, but you were eager, kind, and wickedly smart. You were attentive, patient, and listened to everyone’s concerns. You naturally navigated towards Robby. You were both the day shift attendings, you bounced ideas off each other. That wasn’t surprising to Heather. He was an extraordinary doctor, fascinating and full of experience and advice. 

You asked interesting questions, encouraged his ramblings. You challenged him in ways no one else dared to–questioning his judgements with patients. You never did it in a rude or condescending way, you were genuine in your curiosity and your input was valued by everyone. Including Robby. That was surprising to Heather at first–he never liked his medical opinions being questioned. But he let you do it. Maybe you were able to get away with it because you were an attending. Maybe because the patient satisfaction scores increased after you started working there and he valued your opinion. 

But Robby’s patience was short. He was quick to get frustrated, throw a sarcastic comment, and run away from anything that wasn’t medicine. Heather knew that all too well. She had been close to him once. She shared love with him once. But, as it always happened with Robby, his lack of communication, brutal sarcasm, and steel-enforced emotional walls drove her away. It drove most people away. 

But you were not like most people. 

You were patient, stubborn, and unwilling to take no for an answer if you knew there was something you could do to help someone. You listened. Without judgement, without expectation. And it was exactly what Robby needed. A friend. Robby opening up was rare, something that he had outright refused to do in the past and something she had begged him to do for years. It made something ache in her chest that it wasn’t with her, but she was grateful that he had someone. 

She didn’t realize when it became more than what she thought it was. 

She didn’t realize it when he insisted you be at his side for the attempted suicide victim that came into the hospital one Wednesday evening. She had noticed previously that suicide cases were particularly hard for you. You never said anything, and she never asked. But Robby seemed to know and he stayed by your side the entire time. She saw how proud he was of you after the patient was stabilized.

Not when a car accident victim came in and she saw you both working on the patient like a well-oiled machine. You both knew what the other was going to say before you had even opened your mouths. She saw the way Mohan and Mel looked between the two of you in awe–two people completely in their element and tuned to the same frequency.

Not when a patient came in whose lungs weren’t able to provide enough oxygen after catching COVID. She saw Robby’s chest shake in restrained spain when the patient ended up coding. Heather knew he was thinking about Adamson. He walked away without saying a word, disappearing around the corner. She thought about going after him, but noticed you following close behind. 

She assumed it was a friend comforting a friend. 

But she didn’t witness that summer evening on the roof where Robby hugged you so tight you thought he might bruise you. She didn’t witness the moment the shine returned to his brown eyes and he finally let go of whatever was holding him back from you. She didn’t witness how he kissed you with so much passion and tenderness and devotion. 

She didn’t witness the quiet moments late at night in his apartment in the following months–you and him, cuddled in bed naked, and Robby, so unlike himself, rambling on and on about every thought, fear, and insecurity in his head without any hesitation. 

She didn’t know. 

To Heather, you were just his friend. 

To Heather, he was still her chance. 

Her chance to have a family, to have a baby. To create the life she had always dreamed of. And in her dreams, Robby was still the man standing next to her. 

Until that day in August. 

The massive heatwave raging through Pittsburgh was bad enough, the large influx of patients with heat strokes and rashes and sunburns, on top of the usual flow in the ED made it a terrible day for every healthcare worker and patient alike. It seemed like everyone was wound tight like a coiled spring, ready to snap at any moment. 

A patient had come in, screaming and panicked, a stab wound to the shoulder and you took him into a treatment room. Heather could hear him cursing from the nurses station. 

“You fucking bitch, that fucking hurts!”

Heather glanced into the room, seeing the knife still embedded in the man’s shoulder. You were applying what she assumed was lidocaine on the stab site. From what she could tell, his vitals were good and you were stabilizing him for scans. 

“You’ll feel it start to numb you shortly, Mr. Gale,” you said, patient as always. “It should only burn for a moment.”

He grabbed your arm, his strong grip pinching your skin. “Get this fucking knife out of me!”

Heather stood immediately, moving toward the room. Mateo was already there, trying to step in between the two of you. 

“Let her go, man.”

“Mr. Gale, if I remove the knife, it can cause you to bleed out. We need to do scans to be able to best determine how to help you,” you explained.

“Mr. Gale,” Heather said, getting the man’s attention. “She’s right. We need to be able to assess the wound before pulling out the knife. Please, let her go.”

“NO! I’m in pain, I got fucking stabbed, and you’re not helping me!” The man was panicking and started pulling at your arm harder. Heather looked back at the nurses station and made eye contact with Dana, who was already looking their way in concern. ‘Security,’ she mouthed and Dana nodded. 

“Sir–” Mateo started to speak, before the man, in his panicked state, grabbed the hilt of the knife and pulled it out. The three of you watched in shock as blood began spurting from the wound, landing on your scrubs, and he swung at you, slicing the skin on your arm. You screamed in pain, causing him to let go. He ran toward Heather, who he pushed against the doorframe, and ran out of the room. 

She rubbed her arm where she hit it, and looked back as the man was tackled down by who she thought was security. Her eyes widened in shock, mouth agape. 

It wasn’t Ahmad. It was Robby. 

Robby, who was always restrained and stoic and showed his anger in sarcastic quips rather than physical violence, tackled a man with a knife in his hands. She felt rooted to the spot as she watched the patient struggle against Robby’s grip. The knife had slid out of the man’s hand and Robby was holding him down on the floor, pinning him down with his hands against his shoulders and a knee on his lower back. The man continued to try to fight him off, but Heather could tell he was weakening from the blood loss. 

She looked around, noticing shocked faces of the residents who were all staring at Robby. Perlah and Princess were whispering to each other in a corner, looking between Robby and the room you were in. 

Ahmad came sprinting from around the corner and Robby immediately got up, rushing towards her. Heather’s spine straightened and she was about to tell him that she was ok, until he moved past her and into the treatment room. She turned, her gaze following his back as he made his way straight to you. 

She felt something physically crack beneath her ribs and she swallowed the lump that swelled at her throat. She felt…unimportant. Disregarded. 

She looked at you, tears lining your eyes but still composed as always. Mateo was applying pressure to the wound on your arm. Heather backed away, far enough to be out of the way, but close enough that she could still watch. It was masochistic–the sight before her continued to make her chest feel tight and eyes feel warm, but she couldn’t look away. 

“How’s your pain level?” Robby asked you, peeling away the gauze Mateo had been using and assessing the wound. 

“Not high. It doesn’t seem that deep,” you answered, your voice unusually low and quiet. Your hands were shaking, in adrenaline or fear, and Heather did not miss your uninjured hand reaching for Robby’s and squeezing him. He stared at you for a moment too long and let go of a shuddering breath. 

“Just some stitches,” he said, voice low. “I thought…I heard you scream and I lost it. I wanted to kill him.”

Heather was shocked. At the intimacy of the moment, how close you were sitting, how tender he was being with you. 

“I know, but I’m ok,” you said as Robby started gathering everything he needed for your stitches. 

“Get her an IV, we’ll start some antibiotics,” he said to Mateo and the two of them moved fast through the process. You winced when he injected the lidocaine and Robby whispered something low to you that Heather couldn’t hear, but it made you laugh.

“Gale is HIV negative,” Mateo said, reading the patient’s chart. 

“Good. We’ll still start you on PEP right away, just in case,” Robby said and you nodded. 

They continued treating your injury and Heather stood there. Unmoving. Watching.

Watching the familiar way his arms tightened around your waist and cradled your head to his chest once he was done with the stitches and Mateo had left. He leaned his head on yours and she could see his hands shaking where they rested on your back. Your arms wrapped around his broad shoulders, holding him close to you and you whispered something in his ear–maybe a thank you or a reassurance. And he chuckled, leaning down and kissing your forehead quickly before letting go of you. 

She knew she was intruding, but her legs wouldn’t move. She had never seen Robby like that. He was always restrained, unwilling to be anything but controlled in front of anyone. But here he was. Grasping your hands as you separated and smiling at you before his eyes flickered back to your arm, making sure you were alright. He looked at you like you were the only thing that could make him smile, the only thing that mattered to him…like he loved you. She couldn’t remember if he ever looked at her like that. 

You took a deep breath and stepped away from him, turning and walking away from the room. 

“You know you’re going home, right?” he asked, walking behind you. 

You rolled your eyes. “It’s just a scratch, Robby. I’m staying.”

You looked up and your eyes met Heather’s for a moment. 

“Hey, Collins. Are you ok? I saw him push you.” Your concern was genuine and it made Heather feel almost nauseous. 

“I’m fine. Not even a scratch. I’m glad you’re ok,” she said and managed to keep her tone even and calm. 

“Thank God! Thank you for coming to help,” you said, smiling kindly at her. She glanced behind you to Robby, who was still hovering behind you. He was staring at you, like there was no one else in the room. It made her heart burn and she forced a smile on her face as she looked back at you. 

“Of course,” she said and walked away, unable to look at you and him for another moment. 

She couldn’t stop thinking about her dream. In her fantasies, it was still eight years ago. She was waking up with Robby’s strong arms around her, caressing her pregnant belly. It haunted her mind, constantly. At home, where she had too much time to daydream. At work, where she had to bite her tongue every time he saw you with him. The ugly, raging thing inside her chest grew larger every day, and she knew it was a matter of time before it exploded out of her. 

It was barely 7 am, day shift was trickling in for their shift. She saw Robby and Abbot finishing their conversation, with the night shift attending clapping Robby on the shoulder and walking away. She gazed towards you as you walked in. You were heading into the lounge, your bag still strung over your shoulder and you smiled at Santos as she walked in behind you. 

She slowly approached Robby, who was gazing down at the tablet in his hand. 

“Hey.”

Robby quickly glanced at her over his glasses. “Morning.”

She hesitated for a moment, but managed to force the words out of her. “You have a moment to talk?”

He was looking at her now and she wanted to smile. His attention was on her. He almost looked concerned. 

“Everything ok?”

“Yes, it’s just something I’ve been meaning to talk to you about.” She motioned towards the ambulance bay and began walking out, Robby following close behind her. She made it outside and rounded the corner for some privacy. He stood before her, glasses still perched on his nose and his hands stuffed in the pockets of his hoodie. He felt so familiar to her, like no time had passed since the last time she felt like this for him. 

She took a deep breath and spoke before her nerve died. “Robby… I still have feelings for you.”

The silence that followed was deafening and seemed to drag on for hours. She looked at him expectantly, her smile diminishing as the seconds dragged on and he didn’t react. He looked off to the side and took a few deep breaths before looking back at her, seemingly deciding what to say. 

“Heather, why would you say that to me?” 

She was taken aback. 

“Because it’s how I feel.”

“I…it’s been years. Things have changed…What did you expect to happen?” he said, his eyebrows furrowed. His deep brown eyes looked almost sad as they bored into her. 

“Robby…things can be like they used to. Better.” Especially since she had heard from Dana that Robby was finally in therapy. She didn’t think too hard about what or who convinced him to do that. 

“Heather, it’s too late,” he said, voice low and careful. “If you had come to me a year ago with this I would have jumped at the chance, but I’m not in the same place in my life. A lot of my past…I’ve healed. I’ve learned to move on from the pain and,” he hesitated for a moment before continuing. “And I found someone to help me through that.”

Heather whispered your name. He nodded, eyebrows furrowed, face serious. She looked down, feeling tears burning in the corners of her eyes. 

“I didn’t realize it was like that. That you’d move on so quickly.” Her voice quivered as she spoke and she cursed herself for feeling so foolish. So angry and sad and embarrassed. 

“Quickly? Heather, I spent years regretting what happened between us. Years wishing I could have you back in my life, but thinking I wasn’t good enough for you. Or anyone.” His hands rubbed over his face and took a step away from her. He chuckled, humorless and sad. “You know I went to therapy? You always begged me to, and I feel like shit knowing that I never did because of my pride. But…”

But he did it for you. He didn’t have to say it. 

“I wanted you for years. A life with you. But not anymore.”

She couldn’t stop the sob that bubbled out of her. “Why can’t you want that now?”

“You know why. I'm sorry, Heather, I don’t want to hurt you,” he said, his hand landing on her shoulder, trying to keep his distance but still comfort her at the same time. “I care about you. I always will. But she’s…she’s everything.”

She didn’t find it fair. You only knew him for a few months. She knew him for years. She had seen him at his lowest moments, yet you were the one to help him heal through it. You were the one he was willing to change for. She wanted to scream at him that he was being cruel, but she knew that he wasn’t.

“It feels like you’re choosing her over me. When we've been through so much together. When I’m the one who’s known you longer.”

“But you never understood me. Not the way I needed you to. And that’s partly my fault for not opening up to you,” he said. 

She didn’t understand him the way you understood him. It was unspoken, but they both knew it. 

“It's not fair.”

“No, it’s not. We missed our chance. But…Heather, you have to move on.”

She nodded, wiping the tears off her face and straightening her spine. “Alright.”

“Are you going to be ok?” He asked her and she forced another fake smile on her face. She didn’t know if he could still tell if it was real or not. 

“You know I will.”

He looked at her for a moment, then nodded and walked away, piercing a hole straight through her heart. She watched him walk away, towards the nurses station where you stood. You were smiling, talking with Dana quietly before your shift officially began. Robby approached you, his hand landing on your lower back and you looked up at him, your grin growing and eyes shining. And him…

The way he was holding you…looking at you. The certainty and devotion in his gaze. A look in his eye that had never existed before you. He was in love. 

She could see it now. 

Her heart split in two, knowing the future she had pictured in her mind—Robby at her side—would never be a reality. Not with her. The baby she imagined would never have his warm, brown eyes or his charming nose. Or his smile. Maybe in another lifetime, maybe if you had never shown up in Pittsburgh. Maybe if she had loved him better back when they were together. 

She loved Robby and wanted him to be happy. That’s all she ever wanted for him. And he was happy with you. Despite her jealousy, she wondered what it was like for you. What he was like with you. Did he cuddle with you? He always used to grumble when Heather would ask him to cuddle saying that he got way too overheated. Did he complain about that to you? Or did he do it without complaint just to be able to hold you close to him? Did he cook his incredible latkes for you? Did you cook for him?

She didn’t know the answers to any of those questions. She didn’t know him like that anymore. But she knew that he opened up to you in a way he didn’t open up to anyone. He let you comfort him after difficult cases, shared long conversations that she only knew existed through brief glances through the window in the break room door. She knew that he was more affectionate and open with you in public than he had been with her. That he was willing to put his medical license on the line and attack a patient because they hurt you. He was healing with you… for you. 

She had no right to feel jealous. The ache in her heart changed as she realized that her and Robby were nothing but a pretty dream. And that it was her turn to heal. 

With the vision of what could never be lingering in her mind, she knew Robby was right. It was time to move on. 

It was difficult. At first. 

You all worked together. It was like a nightmare she could never escape. 

You were everywhere. 

And Robby. He lingered around you and you around him. He did silly things to make you laugh and lent you his sweaters when it got too cold. He gave you secret smiles and held your hand when a case hit you too hard. 

He remained professional with her, continuing to help Heather with her education. He wasn’t avoiding her, he was answering her questions, and he continued to value her medical opinion. But it was awkward now, a weird tension in every interaction. All she could feel was the burning ache of rejection and jealousy. 

Anger. At him. At you. 

It wasn’t warranted. She knew that. But she couldn’t help but feel that way. Every touch, every look, every soft whisper you shared was like a spear to her heart. She tried to look further into every interaction, trying to convince herself that she still knew Michael. Not Dr. Robinavitch. It made her frustrated, trying to move on but feeling stuck in time and lost at the same time. 

Why? Why you? Why was she not enough for him when they were together? Why wasn’t she enough for him now?

Why couldn’t she be the one that made him smile more often, or the one making him laugh when she shared an inside joke? It was you. You made him…lighter. 

Neither of you were particularly trying to hide it. While nothing outright happened, lingering touches and glances and smiles were noticed by more than just Heather. There was a betting pool about whether you and Robby were already together and if not, when it would happen. She noticed the others trying to avoid the subject around her, but it was inevitable. She had ended up joining the pool just to get everyone to stop looking at her with pity.

It was a shockingly slow morning. Heather was at the computer, catching up on her charting and making up to date notes for her patients when Dana approached her. 

“Hey, Collins. Have you seen sad boy and sunshine?”

She didn’t have to ask Dana who she was talking about. 

“Who knows?” She shrugged and continued charting.

She felt Dana’s stare on the side of her face and she tried as hard as she could to keep her features calm.

“You ok, kid?” Dana asked and Heather, composed as always, just looked at her. 

“Why wouldn’t I be?”

“I’m not stupid or blind. Things have been…tense lately. With you and Robby.” She waited for Heather to say something, but what could she say? Dana was right. 

“Look, I know that seeing them together might not be the best thing for you. And I don’t know what happened between you and Robby that made things this awkward. But whatever it is, you got to let it go. The past…it’s not always a good thing to get swept up in what-ifs.”

Heather smiled at Dana, trying her hardest to make it look real. “I’m fine, Dana. I’m happy for him. For them.”

“Is that why you always avoid taking on a case with her?”

Dana didn’t wait for an answer before walking away. It was true. She would avoid you as much as she realistically could. She suspected that you knew what she was doing, but your kind eyes and bright smile never gave away if it made you upset. 

Robby stood in the peds room, his face shoved into his hand and Heather could tell that he wanted to cry. The twelve year old girl had passed away after you and him had been working on her for almost an hour and she knew that Robby was taking it hard. Blaming himself. 

She saw you approach him slowly and place a gentle hand on his shoulder. It reminded Heather of what she used to do to comfort him after days like this. She remembered the way he would shrug her off and insist that he was fine and no, there was nothing he wanted to talk about. 

But with you…His hand came up to his shoulder to cover yours. She could see the way his grip tightened around your smaller fingers and you placed your other hand on his back, rubbing it gently. You were speaking, but she couldn’t hear anything that you were saying to him. You were tucked away, near the back of the room, away from prying eyes, but she saw. She saw the way his shoulders relaxed, how he was able to take a shaky, deep breath in and come back to himself. He nodded at you and gave you a real–albeit exhausted and sad–smile. 

It was easy, simple. It was like you knew exactly what he needed without him having to say anything. Like you were attuned to him. 

He was a different man than the one she used to know, she realized. A man you knew intimately. A man you loved just as fiercely as he loved you. 

She knew that now. Accepted it. 

She watched him engulf you in his arms and she smiled.

The rage in her heart lightened, drifting further and further away and it felt like she could finally breathe after months of drowning. She finally understood that since the moment you came into PTMC, she had no chance. And she was happy for Robby. Happy that he had someone who understood him, listened to him, and loved him the way you did. It hurt to accept that, but she knew that Robby was right. 

It was time to move on.

And she was finally ready.

[jacksabbotts]

introducing . . . ADMIN!READER . ᵒ . 📁 📗 🖋️

you are the new director of emergency services administration — but don’t let the title fool you. you are not some clipboard-carrying bureaucrat hiding in an office tower. you are boots on the floor, sharp-tongued and sharper-eyed, calling out code violations and budget oversights in the same breath.

you didn’t leave peds trauma because you couldn’t handle the blood. you left because your ex-husband caught a felony charge and suddenly your daughter needed a parent who made it home for dinner.

you built a new life out of broken glass and court transcripts. clean slates don’t exist for people like you, but second chances? sometimes. if you’re lucky.

you run on burnt coffee and low expectations. you iron your blouses and wear heels taller than your patience. you keep your voice low but your words cut deep. sarcasm is your default setting; exhaustion is your baseline. empathy? well, you still have it — you just learned to lock it behind steel doors so it doesn’t get in the way.

and then there’s michael robinavitch.

the trauma attending from hell. the man who thinks hospital policy is a suggestion and quarterly reports are a personal attack. he’s chaos where you are order. instinct where you are strategy. hands covered in blood while yours are ink-stained with budget reports.

and yet—he’s not what you expected. you thought he’d be arrogant, impossible, unmanageable.

(okay, fine. he is those things.)

but he’s also brilliant. fast. reckless in a way that saves lives and destroys protocol in equal measure. and under all that noise, there’s something quieter. something raw. something that sees the mess in you and doesn’t flinch.

you call him dr. robinavitch like it’s a warning shot. he calls you admin like it’s a dare. this isn’t a romance. not yet. right now, it’s a warzone. but maybe someday—if the paperwork ever gets filed and the walls come down—it’ll be something else.

this isn’t a series — it’s a universe. a collection of standalone stories where tension simmers, tempers flare, and slow burn becomes something neither of you can ignore. angst, banter, quiet softness, and ( eventually ) smut. not today, though.

today, you have got reports to file and a trauma attending to wrangle.

CHAPTER ONE tbd ( coming soon ) CHAPTER TWO tbd ( coming soon ) CHAPTER THREE tbd ( coming soon )

michael robinavitch x admin!reader concepts

⤷ tbd ( coming soon ) ⤷ tbd ( coming soon ) ⤷ tbd ( coming soon )

🔖  .  @silas-aeiou @alldaysdreamers @concentratedconcrete @blackirisesinthesunlight @notgothenough @timeofmadness @valkyreally @hiireadstuff

* ✷ ⊹ * ˚  want to join the admin!reader taglist??? click here!!!!

layout inspo ||| dividers by @cafekitsune + @saradika-graphics + @uzmacchiato * ✷ ⊹ * ˚  main masterlist ||| more robby ||| inbox

possible trigger warnings .' lowercase intended!!! medical trauma and emergency scenarios work-related stress, trauma-induced detachment, unhealthy coping mechanisms, and emotional exhaustion, abuse and domestic violence ( from readers ex ), single parenting, possible power imbalances, profanity and substance use, implied threats of violence / retaliation, smut ( detailed per part )

[lassie-farce]

robby: damn who put this depressing shit on

dana: that’s your life flashing before your eyes you idiot

[doctorrobbysource]

Robby being Robby 2/2