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ebodebo · 3 days ago

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no lube, no protection, all night, all day, from the kitchen floor to the toilet seat, from the dining table to the bedroom, from the bathroom sink to the shower, from the front porch to the balcony, vertically, horizontally, quadratic, exponential, logarithmic, while I gasp for air, scream and see the light, missionary, cowgirl, reverse cowgirl, doggy, backwards, sideways, upside down, on the floor, in the bed, on the couch, on a chair, being carried against the wall, outside, in a train, on a plane, in the car, on a motorcycle, the the bed of a truck, on a trampoline, in a bounce house, in the pool, bent over, in the basement, against the window, have the most toe curling, back arching, leg shaking, dick throbbing, fist clenching, ear ringing, mouth drooling, ass clenching, nose sniffling, eye watering, eye rolling, hip thrusting, earthquaking, sheet gripping, knuckles cracking, jaw dropping, hair pulling, teeth jitterbug, mind blogging, soul snatching, overstimulating, vile, sloppy,moan inducing, heart wrenching, spine tingling, back breaking, atrocious,gushy, creamy, beastly, lip biting, gravity defying, nail biting, sweaty, feet kicking, mind blowing, body shivering, orgasmic, bone breaking, world ending, black hole creating, universe destroying, devious, scrumptious, amazing, delightful, delectable, unbelievable, body numbing, bark worthy, can't walk, head nodding, soul evaporating, volcano erupting, sweat rolling, voice cracking, trembling, sheets soaked, hair drenched, flabbergasting, lip locking, skin peeling, eyelash removing, eye widening, pussy popping, nail scratching, back cuts, spectacular, brain cell desolving, hair ripping, show stopping, magnificent, unique, extraordinary, slendid, phenomenal, mouth foaming, heavenly, awakening, devils tango ever bro could cause a nuclear bomb inside me and I'd still ride.

RobbyXHoney where she gets hurt by a psych or pissed off patient 🤭

Knights in black figs

a/n: OH. EM. GEE, Dr. Honey and Dr.Robby are BACK! I almost switched this where Robby got hurt instead but it was not working, but here we are!!

Dr. Micheal RobinavitchxFem!Doctor!Reader

tags: Established relationship (married), Age gap (not specified but 20s/40s), PTSD, veteran experiencing an episode (this is dramatized and not always an accurate description of how veterans react), violence, angst, but also fluff at the end, very much hurt/comfort, medical inacuracies bc im j a girl, Langdon saves the day?? in this economy?? very much needed.

It happened fast. Too fast to even register. One moment you were checking on a patient and the next you'd become a hostage in your own ER.

"Mr. Prescott it's me Doctor Robinavitch." you announced, softly stepping into the dimmed room. Logan Prescott was a younger man, a vet. He’d come in for some head pain and you were trying to rule out if it was physical or mental. You were always soft with these patients, but should've had another nurse or even Robby there with you, but you knew you could handle him.

Leaving the battlefield didn't mean the war was over, you were all too familiar with the warzones that wage in the mind like a raging torrent.

Logan was curled up on the bed, not asleep but not awake, his hands clasped tightly over his ears. He'd told you he hated hospitals but knew he needed help, you'd bribed Myrna to get a bed in the hall so he could try and get some quiet in a room. You watched as he slowly rocked back and forth, humming a military cadance to himself.

"Logan? I brought you some Tylenol, then we need to do some testing down here before we send you up to imaging is that okay?" You made sure to give him plently of space, not always knowing how a patient with PTSD will react. Logan turned and looked to you, terrified and in pain, he sat up and took the tylenol gratefully. "I got you file from the doctor at the VA, you do have some history of head trauma, is there any way you can expand on that?"

You shined a light in his eyes as you spoke, routine. His pupils were reactive to light and sizing properly. According to Logan he had a few stories of gettimg hurt in combat- passed the finger test -but didn't remember any head injuries.

"My pain is all at the back of my head Doc," He winced again, "feels like the base of my neck is on fire all the time."

You chewed the inside of your lip as you felt the base of his neck for any injuries, not knowing this action would send everything sideways. All it took was a sharp press at the nape and you were being overpowered.

it happened fast. Too fast to even register. One moment you were checking on your patient and the next you'd become a hostage in your own ER. A hand grabbed the back of your head before slamming your face into the metal tray that sat beside you. Strong arms wraped around your waist and throat, locking you in place as a blade hovered near you. Logan barked an order at you, but it wasn't in English, you cursed yourself for not taking Arabic like your grandmother had begged.

"Logan, just drop the blade and we can talk about this-" the blade pressed into your top, wrong answer. "If we walk out there with you holding me like this shit is going to hit the fan, fast-" You tried your hardest to plead with him, craning your neck to see his face, but his eyes were hollow. He was running on a deadly autopilot.

"We have to go now. I trade you I get her back that was the deal." he growled in your ear as he began to walk to the door. Your chest began to tighten and your breathing was on the edge of becoming erratic. You weren't fearing for your life as much as you feared for the man who kept your body captive against his.

"I am walking out with a patient who is not in a clear state of mind," You called out to the hallway praying someone would hear you. "Do not approach aggressivley he is armed!"

The two of you stumbled from the room into the heart of the ER, which came to a screaming halt at the sight of a man with a knife to one of their own. And not just one of their own but Dr. "Honey" Robinavich of all people. One of the nurses tried to lunge at Logan before you could protest, earning a slice to your shoulder. You bit back your pain, shooting daggers at the nurse as he backed off, eyes wide with fear.

"What the hell is goi-" Robby couldn't finish his sentence as he rounded the corner with Dana, coming face to face with his wife being held up, bleeding. A wave of emotions crashed into him as he assesed you from afar. Blood was splattered across your face, a stream trailing down your bicep. Logans head snapped around as he faced Robby, seeing him as the authority.

"I'm here for our trade. I want my wife," He growled.

"Sir, I don't have her," Robby started gently, you felt an arm squeeze tighter around your throat. You tried to pull yourself free, hoping if you could speak to Logan he would listen to you. "You're in Pittsburg, you're safe. But you are causing a scene in a hospital and you've hurt someone innocent.” Robby brought his palms up in a surrendering stance, eyes focused on you the whole time.

Logan began to ramble again, in Arabic you assumed, but the more he rambled about needing his wife back the tighter his grip got on your throat. The edges of your vision began to darken, stars shooting in front of you.

“Sir, can you tell us where you are?” Dana asked, bravely stepping forward, Robby was locked in his place behind her not looking at you but looking behind.

“Unless you bring my wife back you need to get the fuck back!” He shouted.

“We’re trying to get her right now,” Robby cut back in, slowly pulling Dana behind him. “But you need to let her go.” Robby’s eyes were trained on you, your fear began to slowly wash away. He had you, he always had you. But Logan didn’t like his answer, he raised his blade to your chest. You had to think fast.

“Baby,” you choke through his grasp. “Logan it’s me. Please baby let me go.”

That got his attention. Logan’s grip on the knife faltered as he thought for a moment maybe he’d dragged his wife into this mess to get her back. You didn’t see Robby’s small nod, but as a needle pierced Logans arm, the knife made its home in between your ribs.

The panic set in. At first you didn’t feel the knife, didn’t feel your knees hit the ground, or the strong arms that lifted you onto a trauma bed.

Muffled shouting clouded your mind as your vision was darkening quickly. Was this how you were going out? Trying to help a patient? Stabbed in front of your family and maybe never heard from again before you could tell them all you loved them?

“Honey, Honey you have to stay with me.” Robby’s voice was shaky, fear coating each word.

You opened your mouth to speak, or at least you thought you did, but no words or sounds came out. Your ears began to ring and as hard as you wanted to stay awake, you couldn’t. Not anymore.

“Oh my God.” Was that…Langdon? Your eyes fluttered at the sound of his voice and the monitor quietly beeping behind you. “Robby I didn’t know he was gonna do that!”

“It’s okay kid, I gave you the go ahead,” Robby replied, his voice was tired. "None of us knew how he'd react and we had to get him down. She's alive...that's what matters." you rolled your neck to get a better look at you husband who was slouched in the shitty hospital chair. The movement sent waves of pain causing you to hiss, the men turned to face you. Langdon's eyes were wide with shock, and maybe shame. Robby was just happy to see you awake.

"You saved me Frank," your voice was strained, barely above a whisper, "I'm grateful for you." He almost broke right there, fingers twitching slightly like he wanted to come in the room and reach for you. He cleared his throat and mumbled a quick 'any time Honey' before he was whisked away by a beeping pager. He knew he needed to leave because as soon as the door shut Robby was curled up in your side, pushing your hair back and kissing the side of your face tenderly.

You couldn't hide the way the shakes took over your body as you thought about the day you'd had, being the empathetic person you were, Logan was on your mind. Tears pricked at your eyes, the pain in your throat radiated through your body, you'd become acutely aware of the deep scar that now lived in your chest.

"Hey, hey baby breathe," Robby's calm voice pulled you from the panic that tried to set in, you leaned into his touch, taking the Star of David that lay around his neck in your hands. Robby softly dragged his hands up and down your spine, careful to avoid the blossoming pain in your ribs.

"I want to go home." You choked out.

"Soon," Robby nodded, placing another tender kiss to your temple. "we don't have to talk about today yet but I love you so much, I don't say it enough."

Of all things you could've done a laugh escaped you, through the pain and the sorrow there was never a day Robby couldnt make you laugh. You cupped his beard, pulling his face down slightly to place a kiss to him. "I love you," you whispered back. That was all the energy you had but he knew everything left unsaid behind it. As the observational hours went on, you laid against Robbys chest, the drumming from his talking of hospital nonsense comforting you.

"I mean really it's been months since Pittfest we should not be seeing those rats still!"

"Call Whitaker, I got him to kill one at the house the other day because I felt sorry for it." The way Robby's full belly laugh rumbled against you like thunder in a summer storm made the stress of the day melt away completley. Your heart soared at the fact that your husband would come up with pure bullshit just in the hopes it would make you laugh.

Now you were home. Safe, away from the hospital until you had a psych eval but it wouldn't be for another 3 weeks.

You stared at yourself in the mirror. Robby had protested you getting out of your comfy bed after finally getting home, but ultimatley gave in, you dropped your robe once the bathroom door had (reluctanly) closed. Your face looked like hell, your nose had been taped but it didn't mean the crook would disappear, your top lip was swollen and sliced from where your face had connected with the metal tray. Patches of purple and green spread under your eyes like a sea of wilted moss.

Your throat was covered in black and purple splotches, just looking at it made the pain rear it's ugly head. Your hands trailed down to the white patch at your ribs, Robby said it took 18 stitches and it was a miracle he didn't puncture a lung. He never wanted to hurt you, not really.

"You hungry?" Robby asked through the door, your stomach growled in response.

"Starving!"

When you knew Robby had walked to the kitchen you slipped out of the bathroom, robe still on the floor and decided you needed a piece of comfort. The smell of your favorite breakfast began to travel trough the house, beckoning you to the kitchen.

"Mmmm, my favorite,"

Robby turned at the sound of your feet padding into the kitchen, his eyes taking in every piece of you as you'd traded your robe out for a teeshirt that just covered your ass and nothing else. Robby took you in his arms gently, his hands moving under the shirt you wore to press small circles in your back. You pulled robbys neck down till his head rested lightly on your shoulder. You would never forget today, because today reminded you why you woke up every day, for them.

For him

"I love you," You whispered in his ear. The rest of your weekend to come would be laying around in bed, eating good food and remembering how much you love each other, even if you didn't say it enough.

a/n: omg this was so fun to write, life has been insane so I was so happy to get some Robbyxyou (honey) content out!! I have big plans coming but I hope yall enjoy ~kisses

@ebodebo @kchronicallyonline @sceletaflores @that-sarcastic-writer

my dividers are from the lovely: @enchanthings-a

#I KNOW THIS IS SAD!!#BUT THAT’S MY MAN!!#hand him to me NOW #the pitt #fanfiction #michael robinavitch #dr robby #dr robby x reader #dr robby x you #michael robinavich x reader #YEAHH

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ebodebo · 3 days ago

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jack abbott + an angry, dramatic love confessional in the pouring rain = a happy me!

You stepped out of the restaurant, muttering, not even caring that the downpour was soaking your dress and ruining your styled hair.

You hear a faint call of your name; you don’t need to turn around to know it was Jack.

“Christ,” you hear him mutter behind you. “You’ll freeze out here.” You can hear his footsteps on the flooded sidewalk, approaching you quickly.

“I’ll manage just fine.” Your stride doesn’t stop at his words; it just speeds up, but despite this, he catches up within seconds.

He reaches for your arm to turn and face him. “Let me call a taxi,” he insists. “Please.”

You brush him off, continuing your movements. “I’d rather freeze than sit next to you for another minute.” You glance at him; he’s soaked, his hair sticking to his forehead as he walks next to you.

His jacket has long since been abandoned, leaving him in only a long white-sleeved shirt with slacks, accompanied by a tie hanging loosely from his neck. Due to the rain, his shirt looks see-through, showing off his strong body.

How the hell does this guy look hot even in the pouring rain?

“Baby, you’ll hurt your feet in those heels,” he says, trying to deter you. You pause momentarily before bending down, slipping each off easily and carrying them loosely at your fingertips.

He curses under his breath as you continue walking, the rain still pouring down on both of you. “Sweetheart, don’t do this,” he pleads, matching your pace. “I know you’re angry at me.”

You purse your lips stopping in your tracks, eyes darting to look at his. “You know, I feel like you don't even know me,” you accuse, pointing a finger at him. “I mean not really.”

“I know enough,” he reasons, searching your eyes and noting how your lashes have water droplets hanging from them even as you flutter them with annoyance.

Your eyebrows raise. “Really?” You flail your arms out, expressing your frustration. “Then you’d know I’m not angry at you; I’m annoyed.”

“Annoyed?” he echos your words confusion written on his face.

You roll your eyes, flailing your arms again. "Yes!"

“How was I supposed to know that?” His tone holds no condescension, just genuine confusion.

“By asking me!” you say, your voice louder than intended and filled with frustration.

His eyes narrow in thought. “Asking you?”

This fucking guy.

“Yes!” you huff, your shoulders slumping. “You know, Jack, that’s your problem,” you start, nodding. “You just assume things instead of asking.”

He stands there, mouth slightly open, chest heaving as water spilled from his lips and splashed onto the pavement.

You shake your head at his silence. “Just go back to the hospital, Jack,” you say, your voice sounding defeated. “Go take care of everyone else except yourself.” Your shoulders slump again as your eyes dart between his. “It’s what you do,” you say, pursing your lips. “It’s what you’ve always done.”

Your hair has gone flat from the water, and your skin glistens with a sheen that gives it a natural highlight. Your dress is soaked, clinging to every curve. He feels his mouth dry at the sight of you; he can’t imagine anything more heavenly than seeing you like this.

Without much thought, he reaches out, tucking a strand of wet hair behind your ear. "You look so beautiful," he says without a second thought, believing what he sees is divine.

Your eyes soften at his touch, but you turn your head aside, causing his hand to drop. “Don’t start that,” you mutter as you spin on your bare feet and continue walking.

He stands there tongue in cheek as you walk away from him, his heart sinking with each step you take away from. His chest beats fast, almost as fast as the rain hitting the pavement.

He had been used to letting things go.

Everyone was temporary.

That’s what he always thought.

But he couldn’t stomach the thought of not waking up with you, the warm sun hitting you at just the right angle to highlight the color of your eyes.

The thought of eating dinner alone, without your laughter being his only source of music, was a stale prospect.

“I love you,” you hear him shout from behind you.

You release a shallow breath turning slowly on your heels to face him.

“God, I love you so fucking much.” He’s standing there, hands at his side, sopping wet, and he looks like the man you fell in love with.

Your fingers gripped the straps of your heels tighter; your eyes hung heavy, brewing with tears.

“I’m not myself without you,” he shakes his head, voice full of sincerity. “You complete me,” he shrugs as if it were the most obvious thing ever.

You inhale deeply as he finally approaches you. “What would it take?” he asks, his voice desperate. “I’ll do anything, baby. Anything,”

“Jack…” you begin, but then you trail off, avoiding his gaze.

He grips your hands tightly. “I’ll get on my knees and proclaim my love for you to everyone on this entire God-damn strip if that’s what it takes,” his eyes search yours.

"You wouldn't—" you begin, challenging his claim.

He sinks to his knees in front of you, and your eyes widen as he grabs your hands, gently massaging them with his. “You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me,” he begins, his voice loud enough to catch the attention of other pedestrians. “You’re in everything.” His eyes gaze deeply into yours, wide open despite the rain hitting his face. “In everything I touch, hear, and even fucking see, I always think of you,” he says, shaking his head. “It’s always been you.”

“Okay, okay,” you say, urging him to stand as more people start looking in your direction. “I believe you,” you breathe out as he gets on his feet.

“I meant every word. I love you so much,” he grabs your hands again, glancing down at the pavement before meeting your gaze. “I want this to work with you.”

You give him a half-smile. “Just kiss me, you old man,” you murmur, your hands pulling him down to kiss him deeply.

The rain splashes around you, the people nearby a distant thought. His lips feel like a warm summer’s day, full of comfort and gentle heat you can feel down to your toes.

Life can be unpredictable.

But this kiss makes the uncertainty feel worthwhile.

author’s note: i cannot stop writing little drabbles for this show, so if i fail my anatomy practical final tmr it’s tumblrs fault! divider by @saradika-graphics!

#˚ʚ♡ɞ˚: rylea writes #WE GET IT!#IT’S RAINING #does she have to mention it every second?#(i’m she)#jack abbott #jack abbot #jack abbott x female reader #jack abbott x you #jack abbot x female reader #jack abbot x you #jack abbot x reader #jack abbott x reader #the pitt fandom #the pitt fanfiction #the pitt x reader #the pitt x you #jack abbot x oc

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ebodebo · 4 days ago

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and if i drop a jack abbott au inspired by pretty woman, then what?

#THEN WHAT!#fanfic #the pitt #the pitt fanfiction #the pitt fandom #jack abbott smut #jack abbot #jack abbott #jack abbott x reader #jack abbott x you #jack abbott x female reader #jack abbot x reader #jack abbot x you #jack abbot x female reader #jack abbot x oc #jack abbot x original character

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ebodebo · 4 days ago

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ebodebo · 4 days ago

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Biblically accurate Whitaker and Santos

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ebodebo · 4 days ago

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LISTEN…confronting your fiance, langdon, about his drug problem…at the hospital which you’re a nurse at…and your dad overhears the yelling and barges in…and yes ofc robby is your dad bc who do you think i am? heavy angst incoming!

mentions of addiction and drugs…read at your own discretion!

Your sight must be deceiving you.

You had been going off of little to no sleep and in the middle of your fifteen-hour shift.

The bag in your hands held small white pills, each one taunting you from behind its wall of plastic.

You had been staring at them for ten minutes.

Ten tantalizing minutes that felt like an eternity.

You swore you didn't come to snoop, but…you had a gut feeling to check deep in his backpack.

You almost threw up when you heard the crinkle of the bag and felt the hard circles enclosed.

"Honey," Langdon breaches the silence as he approaches, not noticing the bag in your hand. "Are you alright?"

You close your eyes, releasing a shallow breath as you slowly turn to face him, the bag hanging by your fingertips.

His eyes widen in surprise before words start pouring out of his mouth. "Okay," he begins, putting his hands up. "I know what you think," he nods his head, his chest rising with each word.

Your lips flatline, and you release a shallow breath through your nose. "Do you?"

"I'm not an addict," he urges, eyes wide.

You shake your head, a humorless smile on your face. "Why did you feel the need to clarify that, huh?"

His jaw tightens. "I—I'm not."

You shake your head, tears already brimming your waterline. "How long?"

"Listen…you're upset," he starts, but his voice is too calm, which makes you lose it.

You toss the pills on the floor. "How fucking long have you been hooked on these God-damn pills!" you shout louder than intended, tears now fully streaming down your cheeks.

His eyes widen. "Just—just calm down," his calm voice suggests, yet it carries some nervousness.

"You want me to calm down?" you spit, eyes narrowing at him. "I just found out my fiance is an addict, and you want me to calm down?"

"Baby, baby," he moves closer to you, desperation in his voice. "You, you know me," his eyes search yours, looking away from his. "I'm not a fucking addict." His hands move to press into either of your biceps.

You almost falter at his touch, but you shake your head, finally looking up at him. "Do I know you?" you ask, eyes moving over his. "I mean, do I really?"

"I haven't lied to you," he says, his light eyes searching for anything from yours. "Baby, I'm not an addict. Could an addict do what I do?"

He tries to reason, and you let out a dry laugh.

A salty tear runs down your lips as you sniffle. "Apparently," you shrug him off, stepping away from him to run your hands through your hair.

"You, you know me," his hands shake as he tries to explain. "They're just for the pain."

"That's what they all say, Frank," your voice rises as you chew on the inside of your cheek. "You know that."

He inhales deep breaths, raising his hands in surrender. "Baby…I know you're upset," he starts, making you laugh humorlessly.

"That doesn't even scratch the surface," you say plainly.

"Please don't, don't tell Robby," he exasperates, his voice tight. “He'll report me, baby," he moved closer to you. "Please don't."

You let out a huff. "You don't want me to tell my dad you're an addict so you can keep your fucking job?"

"Baby, please," he urges, desperation in his words. "I could lose my medical license."

Your mouth hangs open; silence hangs between you two for a moment before your voice dips down. "You piece of shit," you mutter. "You piece of fucking shit," you bring your finger up to point at him, voice incredulous. You shrug loosely. "Were you on the pills when you proposed?"

"Baby," he tilts his head to the side, evading the question.

"Were you on them?" your voice is lethal, loud.

He closes his eyes before opening them, letting his shoulders sag.

There it is.

The confession.

You shake your head, your eyes downcast as you make a humorless sound. "Oh, that's just...that's real nice, Frank," you begin, your voice rising as you continue. "I'm so fucking glad to know that you were God-damn high when you told me you wanted to spend the rest of your life with me."

"I, I meant everything I said," he says immediately. "We can—we can still get married," he says hopefully. "I love you so much."

"No, you don't, Frank," you shake your head, crossing your arms over your chest. "You would have told me about the pills if you did."

"What's going on in here?" Dr. Robby's voice slices through the air, making your and Langdon's eyes snap to him.

"Robby," Langdon greets, voice slightly shaky. "No—nothing,"

Dr. Robby's eyes drift to you.

Your eyes are bloodshot, cheeks wet with tears.

"Frank," he turns towards Langdon, pointing lazily at you. "What the hell did you do to my daughter?"

"I didn't—I didn't do anything, Robby," he tries, eyes moving to you as if you were going to defend him.

"He's a fucking addict," your voice ricochets off the walls. You bend down to pick up the bag off the floor. "Painkillers."

Dr. Robby's eyes snap back to Langdon. "Is it true?"

"It's not what you think—" Langdon starts before Dr. Robby lifts up his hand.

"Frank," he urges, voice low. "Have you been popping painkillers?"

Langdon doesn't move for a moment before he slowly nods. Dr. Robby lets out a deep sigh, shaking his head.

"Frank," he looks at him. "You need to leave," he says, finality in his tone.

"If you would just let me explain—" Langdon starts before Dr. Robby wipes his face roughly.

"Get the fuck out of my ER!" Dr. Robby shouts. "Now."

Langdon winces before he slowly grabs his backpack, eyes locking with yours before you turn away from his gaze. He nods lightly before turning to move out of the door.

"Daddy," you say lowly when Langdon leaves, sinking onto the ground and propping yourself on the locker. "He's an addict," you sniffle, head in your hands. "A fucking addict."

Dr. Robby sighs as he approaches you, sinking into the spot next to you.

"He was on them when he proposed," you murmur, chest heaving. "He was fucking high!"

"Oh…sweet pea," he coaxes, putting his arm around your shoulder and embracing you.

"I, I feel so lost," you blubber into his chest, tears staining his jacket. "I don't know what to do."

He nods. "You don't have to do anything right now, kiddo. You just have to be. I'm here for you," his voice offers you some comfort.

You don't remember how long you sat there crying into your dad's chest, staining his clothes and ruining your makeup.

You’re glad to stop moving for a moment.

Letting everything go and putting it all in the open.

You know that eventually, you'll have to deal with the fallout, but for now, you just wanted your dad to hold you.

author’s note: oh my god this got way more emotional than i intended…

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ebodebo · 4 days ago

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i’m fucking back w virgin!whitaker x abbott’s daughter!reader…MDNI

“Your dad's in trauma one,” Langdon calls from behind the triage desk, focused on reviewing a patient file.

You hum. “Well, good thing I’m not here to see him,” you lean over the desk, eyeing him.

He tilts his head and nods, his eyes shifting toward you as he incorrectly states why you are here. “You didn’t come to see Abbott, which means you came here to bother me,” he quips with a knowing brow as if he’s correct.

You playfully roll your eyes. “Whoa. So loud and so wrong. I actually came to see my boyfriend,” you raise your brows.

He narrows his eyes and moves the file to his side. “Don’t tell me it’s the basketball player in 15.”

“Definitely not,” you laugh.

He contemplates, the gears in his brain turning. “The college student in 20?

“No,” you affirm, your eyes moving past Langdon to see Whitaker approaching him. “He’s right behind—”

Whittaker interjects, quickly asking Langdon a question, unaware of your presence. “What’s the status on—”

“Hold on,” Langdon says with a grin. “I'm trying to guess her boyfriend. Is it the guy with the fractured leg in five?”

“Frank,” you say. “Follow my finger,” you hold your finger up in his line of sight.

He gives you a confused expression as his eyes follow the tip of your finger, moving in the air. He then turns to his side and sees Whitaker standing beside him with a smile.

Langdon's face contorts with confusion before it finally dawns on him. "Whi—Whitaker?" His tone is surprised.

You nod slightly, a smile spreading across your face. “Yes, you dummy.”

“How did that happen?” Langdon asks, crossing his arms over his chest.

“Oh, you know...things and such,” you say vaguely, your eyes shifting to Whitaker. You tilt your head to the side, signaling him to move to a more secluded area.

“Thanks for agreeing to cover for me, Langdon,” Whitaker jests, handing him another file as Langdon’s mouth hangs open at the new revelation. “I’ll be back in twenty.”

Langdon absentmindedly grabs the file, his mouth slightly ajar, and his eyes narrow in contemplation.

“How long is your shift, doc?” you ask Whitaker as he approaches you.

“Get off at 10,” his hand moves through his hair, and his eyes move rapidly around the ER.

It was filled, every inch occupied and bustling with activity.

Nurses and doctors are busy trying to address the backlog of patient care, though to no avail.

It was too overwhelming to handle all in one day.

You pull your purse onto your shoulder as your teeth chew on your lip. “What’s wrong?”

His eyes move to you, a breath of relief escaping his chest. “I—nothing. I’m okay,” he gives you a half-smile, trying to assure you.

“Are you feeling stressed?” you ask, a concerned frown crossing your face as you notice the tension in his shoulders.

It may seem silly to ask, given that every ER staff member is stressed, but you thought you would ask anyway.

“I—well, you know…” he trails off, scratching his neck. “I’m not exactly feeling relaxed.”

Your eyes narrow in thought before they grow wide with an idea. “I have an idea,” a smirk forms on your lips as you grab his hand, dragging him away. “Follow me.”

“Where are you taking me?” he laughs out, hand gripping yours.

“Shh. Just come on,” you hush his questions. You drag him sneakily into an empty patient room, shove him inside, and follow behind, locking the door after you.

“What are you—” he starts, brow furrowing before he sees the glint sparking in your eyes, teeth digging into your bottom lip.

“Thought we could try something new?” You pose the question, bashfully moving closer to him.

"Like what?" he asks, his tone filled with curiosity.

You raise your hands to press against his chest. “Like sex,” you say easily. “Only if you want to, of course,” you add quickly as your eyes lock.

“Here?” His voice cracks with surprise.

“Could be fun,” you shrug, your hands resting on his shoulders. “You look so hot in your scrubs,” you lean in and kiss his lips. “And it could help reduce your stress, right?”

He tips his head back and gives you a thoughtful smile. “Sexual intercourse does alleviate stress because it releases hormones like endorphins and oxytocin, which promote relaxation.”

“Oh, yeah,” you purr as you return your lips to his. “I love when you talk all doctor, baby,” you murmur against his lips. “Keep talking.”

“It, uh, can also improve your sleep quality,” he murmurs, his lips brushing against yours with equal passion.

“Can it?” you ask, lightly gliding your fingers over the back of his neck. “Seems like it’s really good for you, huh?” you tease, your hands gripping the hem of his scrub top. “You can touch me,” you assure him, your tongue teasingly licking a stripe across his bottom lip. “But I might bite.”

He releases a shaky groan against your lips that makes your knees lock in place. “Tell me no,” you breathe out, your fingers already popping open the buttons of your top.

He grips you tightly as you pop open the last button. “I want you,” his low voice says, certainty rolling off his tongue. “Show me.”

You give him a devilish smile, dropping your top to the ground and your fingers reaching to pull his scrub top off before discarding it across the room. “Do you masturbate?” you randomly mutter, kicking off your shoes before you slip your jeans off.

He tilts his head, pulling off his scrub bottoms. “Don’t really have the time,” he says honestly before looking at you and contemplating whether he should ask. Eventually, he does. “Do…you?”

"Every night," you say without hesitation, leaning in to press your lips against his once more.

His lips move against yours. “To what?”

"You," you say, nipping at his bottom lip and eliciting a slight whimper.

Your eyes hang lazily, full of desire. “Chair. Now,” you instruct, hands pushing against his chest as you direct him to sit.

You move to straddle his lap, your lips connecting again immediately. “You’re sure about this, right?” you ask again, not wanting to pressure him.

“Please,” he groans against your lips, hands gripping your waist tightly.

Your hand finds its way between your bodies, slipping his boxers down to reach for his hard-on. You pull your panties to the slide before you line him up with your slit, sinking down to accommodate him.

He releases a deep groan, head moving back against the wall, as you hiss at the contact. You grip his shoulders tightly, beginning to rock against him slowly.

"You okay, baby?" you ask gently, your gaze lingering on him.

His eyes are closing tightly as his mouth hangs open. “Yeah,” he chokes out, gripping your hips tight. “I can—I can,” he stutters, unable to get the words out.

“You feel me?” you ask, sweetness coating your voice. “It’s okay,” you affirm. “You can tell me. I wanna hear you,” you murmur, bracing your hand against the wall to get more support.

“Y—yeah,” he chokes out, gripping you tighter. “It feels nice.”

You choke back a laugh so as not to embarrass him. “Good. That’s good,” your voice is low as your movements pick up.

“Can feel you,” his words come out more confident. “Tight.”

You release a shallow moan at his words. “You’re getting good at the dirty talk,” you praise, gripping his shoulders tighter.

“Yeah?” he asks, voice strained.

“Mhm,” you can feel your lower stomach tightening. “I’m close.”

He doesn’t answer, he can’t speak, and he’s too transfixed by your movements.

But you can tell.

He’s close too.

But, before either of you can come, a loud knock on the door has you both jumping. You have to stifle a moan as Whitaker moves inside you deeper.

“Doors been closed a while. Need to get patients in and out quickly,” Dr. Robby grunts from outside the door.

“I’m just finishing up,” Whitaker choked out, rushing to stand and nearly causing you to fall as he hurriedly searched for his scrubs.

As he slides into his scrubs, his shirt is inside out, and his pants are on backward. He turns towards you, seeing your face trying to contain a laugh.

“Not funny,” he says, his voice serious, though a smirk plays at the corner of his lips.

“No. I know—it’s not,” you say, trying to keep your voice serious, but you find yourself laughing. “Sorry, baby,” you say as you chew on your lip and reach for your shirt. “Your pants are on backward.”

He looks down and realizes his pants are on backward and his shirt is inside out. He lets out an amused breath and quickly fixes his clothing as you laugh.

“You’re going to be the death of me,” he mutters humorously, pressing a kiss to your cheek.

You laugh softly. “I should get going; I know how Robby is,” you said, kissing him. “I’ll text you later.” With that, you leave, leaving Whitaker to alone.

He lets out a deep breath, his heart still pounding, and his mind still racing.

When he finally leaves the room to head to the triage desk, Dr. Robby is waiting for him.

“Whitaker,” Dr. Robby says, eyes narrowed.

Whitaker spins on his heels. “Yeah, Dr. Robby?”

“You got…,” Dr. Robby trails off, bringing up a finger to gesture to his face. “…lipstick,” he confirms, eyebrow raised.

“Oh,” Whitaker brings his hand up, maniacally swiping his skin to try and get rid of your lipstick.

“Let’s keep the after-work activities, after work, yeah?” Dr. Robby says, patting Whitaker on the shoulder as he wipes your lipstick off his face. “And let’s make sure they’re at least a few hundred feet away from, you know who,” he adds, discreetly nodding towards Dr. Abbott, who is typing furiously on a computer.

Whitaker sheepishly nods, his face reddening as Dr. Robby gives him an amused smile before moving back towards a patient room.

Whitaker ducks his head down, eyes going wide as Dr. Abbott looks at him with his signature stern expression. He then moves to the lounge, taking his phone out of his pocket to text you.

Him: Robby knows.

Me: you're alive! i thought i was gonna have to start dating robby's daughter lol

Me: he’s not one to gossip, so don’t worry too much!

Him: It's comforting to hear that you would have moved on not even one hour after being with me.

Me: i'm just kidding drama-queen!

Me: besides, she has a secret bf i don't know about...

Him: Are you just speculating? You tend to do that a lot…

Me: no…i KNOW she does. i can just feel it.

Me: i think he works at the hospital…

Him: Alright, so you are just speculating.

Me: i will hunt you for sport.

Him: Back to my problem, what if he tells your dad? Will he kill me?

Me: um…that’s hard to say…

Him: Dana just came into the lounge and slid three condoms into my hand.

Me: score lmao come over after your shift?

Him: Of course. Can we try some more things?

Me: what things are you referring to?

Him: You know…sex things.

Me: oh my god. i’ve created a monster…

Him: Is that a no or?

Me: it’s a hell yes.

Me: you’ll get to finish this time and like three other times:)

Him: Optimistic I see. Thank God. I’m feeling all achy.

Me: uh oh you have blue balls, babe…LMAO (sorry love u) bring dana's condoms and so many electrolyte packets, you sex maniac.

Me: i’ll take good care of you

Him: Yes ma’am.

author’s note: this is so self indulgent i can’t. nobody wanted this but me lmaoo

#the pitt #dr whitaker #dennis whitaker #whitaker x reader #jack abbot #jack abbott #michael robinavitch #dr robby #the pitt show #whitaker smut #dennis whitaker x reader #dennis whitaker x you #frank langdon #mel king #dr king #dr langdon

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