impala666

[impala666]

Pretty Boy ~ Luka Kovac x reader

I did it! I wrote my Luka Kovac x reader fic! I hope everyone enjoys! I know people ship him with Abby. And honestly I do too now, but he's just so pretty I can't help it. In this little fic, you can't help but stare at Luka and he catches you.

Luka had been home from his 12 hours shift for at least an hour now. He sat on his sofa, reading a medical journal. You however had just gotten home 30 minutes ago, but now you were freshly showered wearing one of Luka’s soft, chunky sweaters. Ready to finally settle down and rest on the couch with your boyfriend. As you made your way closer, Luka didn’t even look up from the book in his lap but he did offer his hand out to you as you were walking past. When you placed your small hand in his larger one he gently grabbed it and brought your knuckle up to his lips so he could place a chaste kiss to it as you passed. Luka always was subtly showing his love with small gestures like that. A kiss to the knuckle, his own knuckles softly brushing against your cheek when you looked up at him, and a hand on your lower back when the two of you were walking somewhere. Just subtle, easy touches that let you know that he loved and appreciated you. When you were about to make your way to the other side of the couch, Luka grabbed your hand a little tighter and pulled you down so you were sitting thigh to thigh with him. You couldn’t help but chuckle at his neediness. You settled into his side as he wrapped his arm around you and he reached out to grab the novel you had been working on finishing and softly placed it in your lap. Grabbing the throw blanket off of the back of the couch you spread it over the two of you before you officially melted into his side and got absolutely comfortable. The man next to you running his fingers through your showered, damp hair before placing a kiss to the back of your head. 

      An hour had passed since the 2 of you assumed your positions for the rest of the night most likely. It had been an hour of silent reading and Luka softly combing his fingers through your hair. So you couldn’t help it when at some point in that hour you rested your head on his shoulder; you’re eyelids becoming heavy. But when you shifted to make yourself more at home on Luka’s shoulder you couldn’t help but have your gaze land on his profile. He was so freaking handsome and he didn’t even know it. Okay, he did know it, and half of County Hospital knew that, but it was still unfair. “Yes?” Luka finally broke the comfortable silence, he had a smirk on his face and his eyes lit up. He had felt your eyes on him, but he hadn’t wanted to break you out of whatever day dream you seemed to be having. 

     “What?” You asked. A small smirk, similar to his own growing on your face. 

     “You’re staring,” Luka told you as he finally looked up from his book and into your eyes. 

     “So?” You asked, tossing your book onto the the coffee table in front of you. Before fully turning yourself into his warm body, wrapping your arms around his torso. Rubbing your hand on his chest. 

      “So, it’s creepy,” Luka joked as he placed his medical journal next to your book on the coffee table. Duly, wrapping his arms around your small torso so you could now lay your head on his chest. 

     “Creepy!?” Your head shot up to mockingly glare at him. He nodded as he brought your head back down to rest on his chest, so he could rest his chin on the top of your head. “It’s not my fault that you're pretty.” You pouted as you relaxed more into him. 

“Pretty?” Luka asked as he rubbed a hand along your upper back. He felt you nod against him. 

“Pretty, handsome, beautiful. Not ugly.” You smiled as you named off synonyms and antonyms.

“I’ll settle for handsome.” Luka replied pursing his lips. His face turned smug, staring up at the ceiling. His lips pursing.

“Oh, shh,” you lightly tapped him on the chest in a fake reprimand. “Like you don’t already know.”

“Sometimes I don’t know.” You looked up at his face when he said that. He sounded like he was joking, but you had to glare at him to see if he was or not. But when he looked down at you with a bright smile you knew he was joking. “But I know one thing that is not a joke.” He brushed a kiss to your forehead. You hummed in response, waiting for what he was going to say next. “Is that you are so beautiful. Gorgeous, really.” You rolled your eyes and tried to burrow yourself more into his body beneath you. 

“I’m just okay,” but as you were looking him in the eye. You found yourself getting lost again.

“Now, look who can not take a compliment.” You felt a shiver go down your spine when you felt Luka’s lips brush against your ear as he whispered it to you. “You are beautiful, gorgeous, not ugly.” He kept pressing kisses all the way down you face until he reached your lips.

“But we weren’t talking about me.” You tell him as you kiss him in return, reaching up to wrap your arms around his neck.

“If you get to stare at me then I get to stare at you, beautiful. This is a two way street, sweetheart.” You rolled your eyes at his compromising.

“Okay, I’m going to sleep. Good night.” You said to him, fully laying your head on his chest and closing your eyes.

“You don’t want to actually get up and go to our bed?” You shook your head and wrapped your arms more around him like a koala bear.

“You’re comfortable.” You mumbled as you started to let sleep take you. You felt Luka’s body beneath you shake a little as he chuckled at what you assumed what he thought was you being adorable.

“Okay, okay, we’ll sleep here,” Luka pressed one last kiss before he closed his own eyes just to relax. He was going to wait until you were in a deep, then he would move the both of you to bed. He didn’t want you sleeping on the couch, then complain about a crick in your neck the next day. But for now, he was just going to close his eyes, relax, and enjoy the warmth and happiness you brought to him.

[impala666]

Baby, It's Alright - Chapter Three (Dr Robby x FemNurse!Reader)

Ok y'all the storms were messing with my internet last night so sorry for the delay, but here it is!

TW: All my content is considered 18+ so proceed accordingly, fluff, a little smut, early days of dating miscommunication, Robby is a bad influence but also wants to spoil her so bad, mentions of therapy, language, Sam makes another cameo, grammar and spelling cuz I don't edit this shit lol

Need to catch up? Chapter One Chapter Two

~~~~~~

Chapter Three

Michael had let you pick the restaraunt, which you appreciated. You'd picked a small place a few blocks from your apartment. A hole in the wall tavern with an eclectic drink menu and a margherita flatbread you could live on if you allowed yourself. The litghting was dim, the interior was all brick and reclaimed wood, the music was soft and jazzy, you loved this place. You also loved the way Michael looked as he glanced over the menu with his glasses on.

"Friendly reminder, I'm old." He deadpanned from beside you at the bar.

"Not even close to what I was thinking." You can't quite look at him when you say it so you pretend to read the menu.

His knee bumps yours to pull your attention back, "And what exactly were you thinking then?" He settles his eyes on you, the glasses just low enough on the bridge of his nose that he can study you over the top of them.

You wish you had a drink already because your mouth goes a little dry, "Definitly not that you're old." You avoid the question and your cheeks warm at the way he smirks.

He let's it go, though he continues to look skeptical, maybe a little mischievous. "Jack gives me hell, says I should just get lasik. Says it's life changing."

"I like the glasses." You can't bring yourself to look at him when you say it, except out the corner of your eye. Enough that you catch the way his smile ticked up to one side.

"Good to know." Michael nodded and went back to the menu, "Very good to know."

~~~~~

Michael walked you home after dinner and it was chilly enough in the evenings now that you felt justified in sticking close to him. You thought your heart was going to stop when he reached over to grab your hand and pulled it, guided it easily so that he could link your arm through his.

It felt good, it felt easy and right and you had to bite the inside of your cheek to keep what would surely be the most ridiculous smile off your face.

He opened the door to your building for you, and when his hand settled in the middle of your back to guide you through you were nearly certain you would spontaneously combust.

Michael though, Michael seemed so calm and quiet, kept the same easy smile on his face like it was completely normal. When he helped you out of your coat, finally inside your apartment, you entertained the thought. How nice would it be for this to be your normal?

"You want something to drink?"

You grin, "He asks me in my own apartment."

Michael grinned back at you and leaned against the counter in your tiny kitchen, "Well?"

You chew your lip and concedes, "There's a bottle of wine in the fridge, nothing fancy." You try not to feel silly. Your mind automatically jumped to Jack and Sam's house with it's wine cooler and collection of whiskey and bourban. "Sorry, I don't have any bourban or anything like that."

He had already opened and closed the door to your fridge and begun the search through your cabinets for glasses. "Don't need anything fancy." He said it offhand, but then Michael must have seen the look on your face, "Hey, what's wrong?"

You hesitated, "Honestly, just feeling kind of silly I guess." T

he cupboard door thunked and he crossed the small kitchen, his eyes scanned your face and then before you could explain yourself futher Michael was kissing you.

Dr.Michael Robinavitch, was standing in the tiny kitchen, of your tiny apartment, towering over you, one warm hand on your cheek... and kissing you. It was soft and slow and over too soon. "Better?" His smile was soft, his eyes warm and searching as he tried to read your expression.

Your breathing still hadn't regulated, your mind still racing, but you couldn't keep the smile off your face. "Maybe, a little."

When his smile widened and he leaned in to kiss you again, it felt like your heart was going to break free from your chest. His hand didn't move, he didn't move, he only kissed you. Smoothed his lips overs yours in long, steady passes.

When he pulled back he tugged your bottom lip with him and he must of liked the way it made you giggle because he dropped one more kiss to your lips. His thumb stroked over the place where he had treated the airbag burn on your cheeks the couple weeks before. Like an afterthought he tipped his head and dropped a kiss there too, lips just brushing the apple of your cheek. "How about now?" His voice was low and warm and close enough to your ear to send shivers down your spine.

"Feel like I could use that drink now." You couldn't help the near giggle that escaped, but you also couldn't help but notice the way Michaels gaze darted lower, his cheeks a little pink, when you bit your lip to stifle it.

He gave you a smirk and a half chuckle, "I can make that happen." HIs thumb stroked over your cheekbone one more time and then he was back on his search for wine glasses. "Go sit, I'll bring it over."

You did as he said and watched him from your little loveseat as he moved through your kitchen and poured the wine. As he approached you felt simultaneously embarassed by the tiny couch in your tiny apartment, and beyond grateful for it because it left little room to sit anywhere except right up against him.

When he brought you the wine he handed you a glass and then dropped himself into the empty corner of the sofa. He turned to face you, right arm drapped over the back, one leg folded up on the seat cushiion. WIth his other hand he raised his glass, "To finally getting that second date." He clinked his glass to yours, "Worth the wait."

The only answer you could form was an embarrasingly giddy smile that you immediately tried to hide in your wine.

Michael grinned wider and took a sip for himself. "If I can ask, why did you say you felt silly?"

You took another hurried sip of wine and then shook your head, "Nothing really."

He looked at you in a way he hadn't since that first night at Jack and Sam's. Like he was trying to figure something out. "I'd like it if you'd tell me." His expression was so soft, curious, eyes so sincere.

"Well," You start, "Maybe it's stupid, probably is, but I guess it's just that... I really like you and spending time with you and it's just sort of, jarring maybe," You twisted up your face trying hard to put your feelings into a coherent sentence. "Now that i'm saying this out loud I'm actively realizing it's stupid." You busted out into a laugh and finally just spit it out, "My apartment is tiny and embarrassing, and I only have these two wine glasses, like maybe four forks, the bedding on my bed right now is from Walmart and it's like four years old. Feel like I'm playing out of my league I guess."

If the embarrassment didn't kill you after spitting all that out, the look on Michaels face might.

Michael simply shook his head, his grin still present but softer, "You understand that none of that,"

"I know." You interrupt him, shake your head at yourself and lean your head against your hand, mirroring Michaels position opposite you. "I... I do know. Think you just..." the words trailed off as you really studied the way the man across from you was looking at you. The effect it had on you, "You have me all flustered."

His grin turned into a smile, a chuckle even, and he turned his head to one side as he stretched his arm towards you over the back of the couch. Warm, gentle fingers tugged at your wrist until your arm was laid over the back of the couch like his. Michaels fingers traced over the inside of your wrist. He locked eyes with you and kept his voice low, "You think I'm not?"

~~~~~~

You and Robby were dating.

You were dating Dr. Michael Robinavitch.

Dr. Michael "Robby" Robinavitch sent you cute text messages, called you on the mornings or evenings your schedules didn't line up, he even occasionally sent you Doordash while you were on shift.

Like tonight, for example, when you walked past Sam where she sat behind the nurses station at her computer. Her eyes locked on yours with a very satisfied smirk on her face.

"What?" You attempted to play it off as you settled into an empty chair behind the station.

Sam just shook her head, "Didn't say anthing."

"You're thinking something, I can tell." You rolled your eyes as you dug into the bag from your favorite Italian place.

The charge nurse grinned and spun her chair to face you, "You guys are just cute, that's all." Her grin doubled when you pretended to be overly invested in your late night lunch. Sam spun back to her computer, "Wish I had someone to send me lunch from my favorite place in the middle of a long shift."

You scoffed, "Oh please." You stopped with the plastic fork halfway to your mouth. "I wIsh I had a shiny new $90,000 SUV."

Sam laughed as she picked up her water bottle and spun back around to face you, "Just have to ask really nice." She threw you a wink before she took a long drink of water.

"I don't know about that," You paused again to look at your forkfull of food, "Feels weird when he spends money on me, even stuff like this." You took the bite of pasta finally. Savored it for a moment. "Feels like mooching or something."

WIth a scoff Sam spun a circle in her chair, "Honey, not to be that person, but do you know what your new boyfriend makes a year?" Her eyes were wide when she hunted for your gaze, "He has the money to spend, and I know Robby well enough to know that shit like that," She points to the lunch he'd sent you, "That's like a love language for him. He likes taking care of people, especially his people."

The radio on the desk by Sam's computer crackled and squelched before you could respond, or even think through how you would respond. Ambulance service was en route.

You shoved a few more bites of the pasta in your mouth as fast as you could without choking and tried not to get hung up on the fact that Sam had used the word boyfriend. You and Robby were dating, but the words boyfriend or girlfriend hadn't been used, and as silly as it may have been that suddenly made you a little less confident in your new relationship status. '

~~~~~

Want to get dinner tonight? Promise I'll try and get out on time.'

You had stared at that text message longer than you'd care to admit. Wasn't like it was a booty call, it was dinner. Michael had a long weekend and you had the night off. It would make sense to go out, but you had got into your head again.

He sent you the sweet texts, he called you, he took you out, sent you lunch at work, kissed you. In fact, he kissed you like no man had ever kissed you before, but you hadn't yet talked about where this would end up. Did you want the same thing?

When the phone in your hand vibrated you nearly dropped it. Michael Robinavitch.

"Hey."

"Hey, didn't know if you saw my text, want to grab dinner?"

"Michael, am I your girlfriend?" The words were out of your mouth before you could even think twice. Your stomach dropped as you heard yourself speak them outloud.

For a moment the line was quiet. "Yes... at least... I've been working under that assumption." Another long pause. "Is that okay?"

"I'm sorry I," "

Hey, no, Don't apologize. Just..." The deep inhale was audible through the phone, "Can I come pick you up?"

Twelve minutes later there was a knock at your door. You'd spent most of that time panic cleaning and trying not to feel like you were going to be sick. Like you hadn't just messed this up. When you opened the door you stood up straight and prepared for... you didn't know what.

Michael was standing there in his scrubs and a wellworn Carhartt coat with snow still melting on the shoulders. He looked tired, but he still smiled when he saw you.

"Hey." Your voice barely registered to your own ears.

He just tilted his head to the side a bit and his smile grew a little, "Want to tell me what's wrong?"

You took a shaky breath and fidgeted in place, "Nerves I guess. We haven't really... labeled this and I think I just got into my own head."

Michael nodded, "Ok." He shoved his hands deeper into the coat pockets, "Well, I had a long fucking day and I'm starving. So, now I would like to spend the evening with my girlfriend. So, why don't you, said girlfriend, go grab your stuff? We'll swing by the house so I can shower and change quick, then you can tell your boyfriend," He smirks a little at the way you're making a face at him, "Which is me, by the way," He points to himself, "Where you want to go for dinner. Sound good?"

Your cheeks are warm and you can't decide whether to roll your eyes or smile like an idiot. So, you do both. "Yeah, that sounds good."

~

You furrowed your brow as you stared out the passenger window of Robby's truck. It never really occurred to you, not that you'd been dating for that long, but you didn't know where he lived. Now, as you drove down another tree lined street with little shops and the old, colonial style townhomes you realized you maybe should have asked. "You live in Shadyside?"

"Mhmm. Bought a place over here few years ago. Got it quote unquote cheap because it needed some work." He glanced over at you as he hit the blinker and turned a corner, "Not what you were expecting?"

"I didn't say that." You gave him another eyeroll and watched him grin, "Not sure what I was expecting I guess."

He slowed down and hit a button above the rearview mirror, "Well," He turned into the short drive and pulled the pickup into the ground level garage, "I dumped about half of what I paid for it into renovating it, so hopefully you approve, because I'm stuck with it for awhile."

When he let you into the house you stuttered to a stop just inside. Your heart dropped at the fact that you had ever let Michael see the inside of your tiny apartment, let alone made him sit on the floor with you and eat. You didn't move until you heard the thud of Michaels backpack and felt two hands settle on your shoulders, "I'm going to go wash the hospital off me quick." He kissed the back of your head, "Make yourself at home, snoop around, help yourself to… whatever." He dropped another kiss to the back of your head and then headed upstairs.

In your mind you had imagined Michael in something like Jack and Sam had. A nice house in the suburbs, lots of room, neat and tidy, maybe a pool. You were wrong, because this house, this house fit Michael Robinavitch in a way a house in the suburbs never could. It was warm, lived in but not quite a mess, not roomy, but comfortable. You felt like you could easily make yourself at home in the space, but you weren't sure if that was because of the house, or because it belonged to Michael.

~~~~~

Robby had showered quickly and tried not spend too much time thinking about the fact that he finally had you in his house. He had just stepped back into the bedroom to change when he paused. He heard something, More than just you moving around the house, so he pulled on a pair of jeans and a shirt and headed back downstairs.

If he'd been nervous those feelings disappeared instantly as he came back downstairs and paused around the corner. Robby smirked to himself as he watched you move through his kitchen. Took the moment to stand back, quiet his breathing and watch until you caught him.

You paused, eyes wide and one hand on the refrigerator door, "How long have you been standing there?"

Robby chuckled, "Long enough." He stepped the rest of the way into his kitchen, "What're you looking for?"

"Oh," You looked around, "I thought maybe instead of going out to eat we could make something here."

He took a couple steps closer, smiled and nodded, "I'm guessing you've figured out that I need to get groceries?"

You laughed and Robby couldn't help but smile wider to see it. "Yeah, you really do."

"Okay with takeout? At least for one more night."

"That depends." You bit your lip.

WIth another chuckle Robby shook his head, "You really want Gio's again?" The way your smile doubled told him everything he needed to know. "Ok, pick out a bottle, I gotta go grab my phone and my wallet." He gestured to a built in wine cooler and disappeared back upstairs.

By the time he made it back downstairs, rattling the last few digits of his card off, you had picked out a bottle of wine and apparently found the bottle opener and two glasses. He hadn't needed to ask what to order for you, you always got the same thing, which he found adorable. "Said should be fifteen to twenty."

You met him in the middle of the kitchen with a glass for him, "What do you want to do while we wait?"

Robby grinned, shook his head a little at the glint in your eyes, "How about," He took the glass and set it down before guiding you around to one of the stools tucked under the kitchen island, "We talk about what you said earlier." He held your gaze as he leaned against the opposite side of the island from you, "Because apparently there's been some... miscommunication there. Which is mostly my fault. So, you were worried that this wasn't...?" He let the question trail off in the hopes you would fill in the blank for him.

After a long sip of wine you laid your hands flat on the marble counter top and nodded, "So, Sam said something at work."

Robby let his head bob, snorted because of course it was Sam. Sam always had something to say

"She called you my boyfriend, and it just made me realize we haven't really... put a name or a label on any of this and..." You took a deep breath, flicked your eyes back up to his. "That makes me nervous."

At first he just nodded, tried to hear what you were saying and really understand where you were coming from. "Because that made you think maybe this wasn't as serious as you wanted it to be?" He took an educated guess. When you nodded and looked back to the countertop, Robby nodded along. "I meant what I said when I picked you up tonight. You are my girlfriend. At least that's how I think of you" He scratched at the back of his neck, hearing how silly it sounded, and ducked his head to try and get you to look at him again, "This is real for me, I'm sorry I didn't make that clear." You finally looked up at him, eyes a little glassy, and he gave you a wink, "I'm just a little rusty is all."

You took another sip of your wine and smiled, "Sorry, i've been kind of weird."

Robby brought his wine glass with him as he circled back around the island to come closer to you, "Look at us." He hooked a finger under your chin and tipped your face towards his so he could kiss you briefly, "Communicating." He kissed you again, just a little longer that time.

"Therapist would be so proud." You smiled up at him, chuckled at him when he scrunched his face up and looked away.

"Shouldn't make fun of me." He dropped his hand from your chin to lean on it, fingers splayed wide over the marble counter. "I'm not." You chuckled as you looked up at him. His heart misfired when you raised both hands to rest over his chest.

"I think it's sexy you go to therapy."

"Jesus Christ." He murmered and chuckled at himself, his brain short circuited as he watched your smaller hands smooth over the front of his shirt. It made you laugh, which made him happy. "Anything else would you like to communicate about?" Robby liked the way you rolled your eyes at him. It made him want to do and say whatever it took so you'd keep doing it. He also liked the way you always had to bite back a smile while you did it. "Anything at all?"

You looked up at him from your seat on the stool, grin on your face, and seemed to think for a moment, "We could talk about why you've been slumming it, coming over to my itty bitty, sad little apartment instead of asking me to come over here."

"You assume I've never lived in a cheap apartment?" He grinned and studied your face, got the feeling you were only half teasing. "I wanted to spend time with you, doesn't matter to me where that is." He nodded to himself briefly and then gave you a smile. "This is still new, we're still figuring it all out." He took an extra step closer, dropped a hand to your knee to turn you towards him so he could kiss you again. "Now you know that you are definitley my girlfriend," He gave you an encouraging smile and another kiss, "You also know you can spend as much time here as you want." He spoke the words a breath away from your lips, close enough that he could feel you smile, "Preferably a lot of time."

~~~~~~

You were making out with Michael.

You were sitting on the couch, making out with your boyfriend, Dr. Michael Robinavitch, when you were supposed to be doing homework.

It had started innocently enough. You had the night off and a paper due. Michael had told you to come over and work on it at his place. Which is how you ended up on the couch, your back to his chest while you typed away and he read through case notes on his tablet.

You couldn't remember for sure when his free hand had moved to your arm and his fingers had started to stroke absentlmindedly over your skin. At one point he had startled you, his voice low and so close to your ear as you typed, "That study came out in twenty two not twenty three."

"Are you reading over my shoulder?" You teased even as you pulled up another tab to verify the dates.

Michael just chuckled and kissed the back of your head, kept his lips there, "Sounds good so far." He pressed another kiss behind your ear. "Almost done?"

"Almost." You corrected the date you'd cited for the study. Michael had been correct. You bit back a grin, "It'd go faster if you quit doing that."

"Doing what?" He chuckled even as he kissed the spot again.

"Distracting me." You let yourself smile, but continued typing. Or rather tried to.

"When's it due again?"

You heard the thunk of the tablet as he set it down on the end table and then the lighter sound that must have been his glasses as he set them down on top of it. Then both his hands were on you. "Uh," You had to think for a minute, "Not until tomorrow night. Midnight."

"Hmm." Robby wrapped his arms around you and pulled you tighter to him, "Plenty of time."

"You're supposed to be an educator, should be a better influence than this." You griped, but you still hit save and closed your laptop.

"Oops." He chuckled as you settled back into him and let him take your laptop to move it aside.

You never turned around to face him, just let him hold you like he had been and tip your face towards his. HIs hands on you, but never inappapropriat, never pushing too far. Or maybe not pushing far enough, you couldn't decide. Eventually you started to fidget, "Michael…"

"Hmm?' Was his only response, other than a large hand settling on your hip to keep you still.

After another long, mind numbing kiss, you chuckled, "I don't even know."

Michael grinned, snuck a thumb under the hem of your shirt and stroked it over the warm, soft skin underneath, "Why don't you stay here tonight?"

You froze. That was new. Very new. Coming over and spending time with him, in his home, had become a common occurrence, but you'd never stayed the night.

"You sure?" Your voice was soft when you turned more to look him in the eye.

HIs thumb continued to stroke back and forth over your hip, "Up to you, sweetheart." His eyes locked on yours and held, face soft, hint of a grin fighting at the corner of his lips.

For a long moment you were torn. The idea of spending the night with Michael was terrifying and exhilerating. You two had been going slow, taking your time, this would be… new.

"Hey," Michaels voice was soft and his breath warm against your ear, "Not asking for anything, just…don't want you to leave just yet."

You chewed on your lip for a beat, "Work tomorrow?" When Robby shook his head his grin grew another fraction. "Trying to mess up my sleep schedule more than it already is?"

Robby chuckled, "Can stay up as late as you want." He pulled you back in to another, slower, softer kiss. "Maybe even sleep in."

Barely a whisper you added, "I didn't bring anything to sleep in."

HIs face split into the smile he'd been fighting back, "Even better." He laughed when you elbowed him, hard.

"You really are a terrible influence." You scowl at him over your shoulder, but you couldn't hold it long.

"Don't tell anyone." Michael tossed you a wink and reached to pull you back to him, his eyes locked on yours. HIs Adams apple bobbed as you leaned back into him and he settled his hands on your hips. Not guiding, not pulling, only holding. "Hey," He paused, like he hunted for the words, "It's alright," He paused to inhale deeply as you leaned into him, "Baby, it's alright if…"

You stopped him with a kiss, reached behind you with one hand to pull him to you, "It's alright if I want to stay?"

He smiled, smoothed his hands up your sides. "I'd like it if you did."

"If I stay will you let me finish my paper?" You looked back at him, eyebrow raised.

Michael seemed to consider, "Eventually." He kissed you again, and then let you get comfortable, sink back into him. His hands didn't stop though. His breath warm against your ear, his hands smoothed over your hips and your sides. "Maybe tomorrow."

Your brain had already checked out of any further, meaningful conversation. The only thing on your mind was that you were cuddling on the couch with Michael, making out with Michael, his hands on you, his beard brushing against the smooth skin of your neck. For the rest of the night you could stay like that, there on the couch in his arms if you wanted. Once again his thumb slipped under your shirt, smooth, repetitive strokes.

You could've stayed there as long as you wished, but you wanted more.

A little shocked by your own boldness you dropped your head back against his shoulder, eyes closed, as you smoothed a hand down his forearm. You settled your own hand over his and coaxed it further under your shirt. The satisfied hum, nearly a moan, slipped out as his heavy, warm hand spread wide over your stomach. His touch smoothed up and over your ribcage, his thumb within centimeters of your bra. The next sound you made was much closer to a proper moan and you could feel the way Michaels chest rumbled with a chuckle. "That feels good." You whispered as you felt his lips ghost across your neck.

"Yeah?" His tone matched yours as his left hand joined the other under your shirt. He pressed short kisses over the length of your neck. When you nodded, the kisses grew longer, wetter. "Good. I want you to feel good."

All you could do was nod.

"Want me to stop?" He slowed his movements.

"God no." Your eyes snapped open only to be met with his. Dark and shining with something, a grin on his face.

He brushed his nose a long your jaw before coming back for a kiss, "So, I can keep going then?"

You nodded and he slid his hands higher, the overwhelming heat of it forcing your eyes closed again.

"You want me to make you feel good?"

"Please."

His grip on you tightened with a tremor, his arms locked around you as his fingers dug in and Michael murmured out a strangled, breathless, "Fuck." Into your hair. He let out a long, unsteady breath and moved with a lazy purpose. One hand up and up, over a breast to slip easily into the cup of your bra to squeeze you. His thumb rolled over your nipple like he knew exactly where it would be, how much pressure to apply.

It makes your body react without your permission as you arch up into his touch. "Robby…God."

"Michael." He corrects you, words hot against your ear as his lips close over your earlobe and his grip on your breast tightens.

You whimper, your body rolls again and your own hands grab at his jean covered thighs on either side of you, "Fuck, sorry, Michael. Feels good."

"Good girl." The fingers of his other hand dipped, just barely, past the waistband of your own jeans, "Can I?"

There was no need to ask what it was he wanted, you had a pretty good idea, and besides that you would let Michael do just about anything he wanted to you at that moment. "Yes," Your hips pushed up into his touch, "Please."

His hold on you tightened, pushed you back so you were pressed against him completely again and Michael half chuckled half growled in your ear as he did it. "So sweet." His hand on your hip moved, joined the other, his fingers working together to undo the button and the zipper.

You couldn't help but watch, breath caught in your throat, as he slid his hand further. As it crept closer and closer to where you wanted it. No sound escaped you when his first finger found you so wet and warm, only a long studdering exhale as you let your eyes fall closed again.

Michael also kept silent, his attention focused entirely on where his hand disappeared into your pants. That same, singular finger stroked over you, the tip just barely dipping into your warmth with each stroke. Just when you thought you would have to say something, to ask for more, he gave you more. Like he had read your mind he dipped his middle finger in, one steady move, to the knuckle. His lips pressed to your temple and stayed there as he continued.

Before long he had established a pattern. His finger would sink in deep and then withdraw to circle around your clit. Once, twice and then back to tease you from the inside out. Over and over he did this, like nothing else existed in his world, until your hips had picked up the rhythym. WIth each sweep of his finger you couldn't help but lift your hips up to chase the sensation, then almost immediately grind back against him.

When the silence was finally broken it was with a rumbling chuckle, mostly a groan, Michaels breath hot against your ear, "Going to make me embarrass myself." His other hand settled heavy and firm on your hip, dragging your ass back against his erection and then trapping you there. He held you there with one hand while the other picked up the pace, the same pattern, the same motion, only quicker.

The sound his wrods and actions drug from you would be embarrassing if it hadn't made his own hips shift against yours. "Michael…"

"God," It game out as a whisper, but he sped up his hand, no longer teasing. Now he was chasing after something, "Never going to get tired of that." Then there was two fingers, faster, rougher, "Say it again, baby."

You did as he asked, whined out his name as he stoked the fire inside you.

"Say it again." He repeated himself.

"Michael, please." Like every strong, independent, feminist part of you lept out the window the only thing you wanted in that moment was for this man to make you cum. Now.

His hand moved faster,so borderline rough that you didn't have to move your hips. He was moving them for you. His touch shifting your hips under his fingertips as he focused all his attention on the swollen little bundle of nerves and ground his erection against you from behind, "Fuck baby, it's alright. It's alright, go ahead and let it go for me. Give it to me." Michael spoke, moaned, every word into your ear as his lips and teeth and tongue sucked and carresed and nipped at the sensivtive skin until your body seized up in his arms.

No more cute, needy little whines. You let out one, single, strangled gasp of his name as you came. Your head spinning and your entire body alight, like every nerve ending lit up at once.

Michael groaned, deep and louder than anything he'd let slip before. His arms bulged as they locked around you.

It took a moment, your brain barely functioning, for you to realize that Michael had cum with you.

"I'm sorry," He brushed his nose over the shell of your ear, chuckled at himself as he kissed over your neck.

WIth one limp arm you reached behind you to grab Michael by the back of his head and pull him to kiss you properly. "Oh baby, it's alright." You smiled into the kiss, a happy, satisfied little giggle escaping against his lips.

His fingers slipped back inside you and he cracked a scandalous smile when you trembled at the sensation. "We should go to bed."

When you whined, he chuckled again. Sleep was the last thing on your mind.

The fingers inside you swirled, curled, scissored as it to stretch you out and Michael whispered to you again, "Baby, I'm old, but I'm not that old." He nipped at your earlobe. "Nowhere near done with you yet."

~~~~~~

Chapter Four Coming Soon!

If you enjoyed this and haven't already checked out the rest of the connected stories you can find them here! -> Save Me From Myself

[impala666]

3 A.M & Quesadillas ~ John Carter x reader

I know, I know. I said I wanted more of Luka Kovac, and I've been working on a few things for him. But for some reason writing for John Carter is easier for me, I have no idea why. But I hope everyone enjoys this. Carter just needs someone to love him and be on his side for once, so that's what I did.

You found yourself waking up, at first you weren’t sure as to why. But then you felt the cold sheets on the other side of the bed. It had been a month since you and your husband John moved in to his grandmother and late grandfather’s house. It took some getting used to. Your whole life you’d lived in ranch styled houses or tiny apartments, kind of like the one you and John lived in before you moved. Now you lived in a mansion practically, and a staff that would try to wait on you hand and foot. However, you weren’t about to complain about the big bed and comfortable as hell mattress that you shared with your husband. But more and more you seemed to be waking up in the middle of the night to find John not next to you. Not that you could blame him after the trauma of the stabbing and losing Lucy, then his grandfather dying, the two of you working crazy hours at County Hospital, then of course his grandma falling ill. To which you knew the woman was practically his mother, because god forbid his mother from coming around at all to lend a helping hand or to even just to make sure that her son was okay. Then of course John had his insomnia on top of that, so he hardly slept.

Sitting up in the bed, you pushed the lush comforter off of you and moved to grab your sleep shorts from the floor to wear along with a t-shirt of John’s so you could go on search for your husband. Finally after slipping on your slippers you left the bedroom en route to the kitchen. Whenever John couldn’t sleep you could find him eating or drinking something in the kitchen, in the living room reading a medical journal, or sitting outside if it was nice. But this was Illinois, so of course it was raining. A tired smile grew on your lips when you found him cooking something at the stove. But as you quietly walked into the room you noticed the time on the stove clock, it was 3 in the morning. The two of you had worked 12 hour shifts not that long ago and the two of you had to be  up in another few hours to head out to go to your next shifts, however when you walked up behind him and wrapped your arms around his waist and felt his warmth that went out of your brain. 

“Hey, what’re you doing up?” John tiredly smiled down at you. He switched his spatula to his non dominant hand so his dominant hand could lace with the fingers of the hand that was wrapped around him.

“Shouldn’t I be asking you that? I woke up alone without my personal space heater, so I had to come find him.” You spoke into him softly as you pressed your face and nose into his back so you could embrace his warmth along with his scent. John let out a small huff of a chuckle as he took your hands from his waist so he would wrap his arm around your shoulders and bring you into his side. To which you again buried your face into once again.

“Well, you found him. He was just a little hungry, so he came down to make himself a quesadilla.” John smiled softly still as he played into the game you were playing with him. 

“A quesadilla? At 3 in the morning?” You finally took your face out of the warmth of John’s side to watch as he flipped the tortillas and cheese that were sizzling on the pan.

“Which is exactly why you should go back to bed. No sense in the both of us being miserable tomorrow. Well, I guess today, technically.” You shook your head as cheese flew out of the tortilla mid-flip, but also at his trying to take care of you. He was one to talk, the man took care of everyone else around him so that he would not have to face the problems that he was dealing with. Sure, he loved helping people, hell that’s why he became a doctor, but he also hid in it. But that was a conversation for another day. You just wanted to enjoy the quiet early, rainy morning with your husband before the two of you had to be your professional work selves.  

“Nope. No way.” You shook your head at him. “If you’re up then I’m up. So we’ll just be miserable together later. Now, scoot.” You demanded as you bumped your hip against his own to get him out of your way.

“What are you doing?” John asked in fake offense as he tried not to burst out laughing at you taking over.

“You are making a mess. Plus now I want one so I will take care of it, okay?” John just stood there with his arms crossed over his chest, not really believing that you just did that. But of course he believed it, because he knew what you were doing. You were taking care of him.

“I was doing just fine.” His voice rose an octave in defense.

“You literally just got cheese everywhere, Johnny.” You told him as you took his off of the pan and added a new tortilla to the pan to start your own. 

“ You like taking care of me don’t you?” Now it was John’s turn to wrap his arms around your waist and press a kiss to the top of your head

“It is one of my favorite pastimes.” You smiled at him. You turned yourself around in his arms and firmly put your hands on his chest. “Now, would you be so kind as to start a pot of coffee?” Asking him sweetly. 

“Coffee and a quesadilla, doctor?” Carter looked at you like he couldn’t believe the combination of food that you have chosen to have for breakfast. But it was you who was surprised. The two of you had eaten much weirder things with coffee. One of the things being sushi of all things. But when you need caffeine, you need caffeine. 

“Well I’m up now and I think you are too so we might as well start with it to keep us going.” You quirked an eyebrow up at him. 

“Hmm, touche.” John agreed with you and nodded before leaning forward to kiss your jaw before leaving your embrace to start his coffee duties. As the coffee was percolating he came back by you but you shook your head and gently grabbed his wrist. Which earned you a confused look in return.

“Sit down, relax, and let me serve you.” You said softly. John looked at you like you had grown a second head. He looked at you unsure, and a little bit like he couldn’t believe that you were doing this. 

“You know you’re not my mother right?” John asked as he took a seat on one of the bar stools that were placed at the island in the middle of the kitchen.

“I know,” you smiled to yourself slightly as you sliced both of your breakfasts. “And appreciate it that you say that, because most men just assume we’re here to fill that roll.” You placed the plate with the steaming in front of both of the seats before walking back over to the coffee pot to pour the both of you a cup. John didn’t say anything. He just sat and ate his quesadilla and stared at you like he could not believe that you were in the room with him at that moment. 

“But you don’t need to take care of me.” He finally said, very quietly while he helped you climb up into the bar stool next to him.

“I know I don’t need to, John,” you took a small sip of the hot coffee. The effects of the coffee waking you up ever so slightly. “But I want to, I mean you are my husband. Even before our wedding I wanted to.” John opened his mouth to say something, but before he could you put your hand on his arm to keep him from doing so. You needed him to hear this. “You have been killing yourself trying to take care of literally all of the adults in your life. Not just at work. You have been helping your grandmother; who might as well be your mother, considering she raised you. You have been helping her grieve your grandfather, along with her illness. Which you’re also medically helping her with also. Then your mother and father finally come back, drop the bomb on Christmas that they’re getting a divorce. Which they’re putting you in the middle, and don’t tell me they aren’t. I mean you had the worst thing happen to you last year. I mean, you were stabbed. Almost died, almost couldn’t walk again. But now they come back.” You were getting yourself all worked up thinking about his parents, you were beginning to lose your point. But John rubbed your back with one hand and put his other hand on top of your own hand to comfort you and calm you down. “So, no. I don’t mind taking care of you. Because I love you, and I want to.” You said much softer, not realizing until now that your voice grew in volume during your rant.

“Thank you for saying that.” John smiled and blushed all bashful as he reached forward to run his thumb over your chin and feel your face. You turned your head to place a kiss on his thumb before turning to start in on your food. “I love you, so much.” 

P.S- Note from author: TBH I don't know if this was finished or not. If it seems like it just ended out of no where, please let me know. It just felt done.

[impala666]

The Monroe Effect: Chapter 2

Set during Season 5, Episode 2 of ER. Spoilers if you haven't seen the show.

Warnings: mentions of canonical medical issues

WC: 866

ER story belongs to original creators, just adding on my own original charter.

Taglist: @pleasecallmeunhinged, @rainmg, @arigoldsblog, @queenslandlover-93 and @hagarsays

Main Story: prev | next

Snapshots: prev | next

 “Hey Gen, can I borrow you for a little bit?”

Mark was sitting at admit in front of the calling system as I walked over from the curtain area. “Sure Mark.” I said, putting down my latest patient chart. “What’s up?” 

“Would you mind showing me how this thing works?”

“If you wanted help with technology old man, you should have gone with Lucy.” Mark scoffed. “I’m kidding. Are you thinking of applying for the EMS job?” 

“Possibly.” 

I proceeded to try and walk him through the new system, explaining how it worked, why we switched, and how it was connected to the other hospitals and EMS in the area. The system itself was actually pretty cool, just a little hard to get used to if you liked working the old one. I was in the middle of giving him a call-in example when Carol walked up, a huge smile on her face. 

“Mark, thank you so much. They said yes.”

“To your proposal?” I asked, excited. 

“Thanks to Mark’s great letter of support.” 

“Ah, I just told the truth. I just said that your clinic deserved a salaried RN.” 

The system began beeping. “Oh, there you go Mark.” I pointed out. 

“Eh, why-why’s the number flashing?”

“They’re calling on the land line.” I turned to Carol. “Mark’s learning the new radio.” 

“Does this mean you’re going to take the EMS job?” She asked. 

“Well, I-I haven’t decided yet.” 

“Just touch the screen.” I instructed.

“On the number?” 

“It won’t bite.” 

Mark hit it twice and the dial tone could be heard. “What’d-what’d I do?” He turned back to me. 

“When you touch it twice, you hang up on them.” I pat his shoulder. “Don’t worry. They’ll call back and we can try again.” 

Mark sighed and ran a hand over his head. “Jerry, what is going on with the AC in here?” 

“They were just here.” The clerk informed. “Takes a couple minutes for it to cool down.” 

The system began beeping again. “Oh, they’re on med nine!” Mark said, excited again. 

“Okay.” I chuckled. “Go ahead. Just once.” He pressed the number. “Check volume.” 

“........Pulse 120. Gave 500 cc’s of normal saline. Copy?” A static voice came loudly over the speaker. I adjusted the volume as Mark replied. 

“Uh, County General on med nine. We didn’t catch first part. Can you repeat?”

“You have to step on the pedal to speak.” I whispered to him. 

Mark grunted, found the pedal and tried again. “County General on med nin—” 

“Remember you aren’t switched over. You gotta switch over to med nine first.” He pressed the button. 

“County General on med nine. Can you please repeat the information?” 

“I said ‘pulling up now’.” The EMT informed us as she stuck her head through the admit window. I turned and walked around to meet the gurney. “Single vehicle MVA, 62-year-old restrained driver. What’s up with the radio?” 

“Well, Mark Greene is considering a future in EMS.” I said, grabbing the gurney as I began to lead them down the hall. “I was just trying to teach him the ropes.” 

“Ah-huh. BP’s 100 over 60, tachy at 120, diaphoretic. Airbags deployed. Wife was a passenger in the front seat.” Kerry Weaver joined us as we neared trauma. 

“He just groaned and slumped over the wheel.” The wife explained, panic in her voice. “Thank goodness we were barely moving.” 

We got the patient into Trauma One and stabilized. He ended up being diagnosed with an MI. The day continued with more of the usual, followed by two gunshot wounds. Both boys ended up being stabilized, one could even go home soon. But then the boys' girlfriends came in and started fighting, leading to one of them getting stabbed outside, chaos ensuing. When I was finally able to get a break, I decided to brave the fight yard and went out to the ambulance bay for some air. A familiar blonde was already sitting outside on the bench.

“Hi Lucy.” I said, getting her attention before I sat down. 

“Hi.” 

“How’s it going?” 

“Okay.” She turned to me. “You’re not going to laugh at me about the carrot, right?” 

I chuckled. “I actually have no idea what you are talking about. Guess I missed it.” 

“Good.” She smiled, but her expression quickly changed. 

“What?” 

“Can I ask you something that is probably super inappropriate?” 

I shrugged. “Sure. Why not?” 

“Are you and Carter together?” 

My eyebrows shot up. “What makes you ask that?” 

“He always asks for you with patients.” 

“That just means I’m a good nurse, Lucy. And we’ve developed a nice workflow together.” 

“He also looks at you like you hung the moon.” 

I scoffed. “No, he doesn’t.” 

“Yeah, he does. Most of the time he’s serious and grumpy. The only time I ever see him really smile is around you.” 

I wiped my hands on my scrubs, my palms suddenly getting very sweaty. “Carter and I are just friends. Really good friends. We both started here at the same time, and both grown here together. It’s normal to be a little closer than others.” I stood. “I have patients to check on. I’ll see you later.” 

[impala666]

Why is there none of this man on here!?

So, because of The Pitt coming out I've been on a little bit of a Noah Wyle deep dive, so I've started watching ER; like I'm sure many people are right now. I love seeing all of the John Carter fics, because yes I'm human and love him too. But ever since Dr. Luke Kovac has come onto the screen I am OBSESSED with him. He is so handsome and tall and his character is so nice and decent in despite of everything he's been through. But look at this man! There needs to be more stories with him!!! I mean sure I can write my own stories with him, but that's only half fun. Also, Abby does not deserve him (maybe they get better and I'm just impatient)!

But my rant aside. If I wrote from Dr. Kovac would people actually read it?

[impala666]

we need mark greene x reader content

[impala666]

your honor i see no difference

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[impala666]

Comfort and Love

Yes, Langdon again and I'll probably have another one out soon about his partner finding out that he's been stealing drugs but we shall see. For some reason I have an easier time writing for Dr. Langdon than I do for Robby or Abbott, idk. I rushed at the end a little, lol.

Being a nurse and also working with your husband was great 99% of the time. Of course the two of you knew how to keep you work lives separate from your personal lives and your marriage. At work the two of worked like a well oiled machine, much was the same in your personal lives. Sometimes being married to Frank tested your nerves to which you reminded him that he was being an ass or just being too much. But of course at work there was a hierarchy, he was a doctor and you were a nurse. Sometimes he was a little rough around the edges, but you couldn’t tell him that until the two of you got home. Though most of the time you’d forget it, because he was stressed out at work all the time and when you were home. That was it. The hospital didn’t exist in your bubble. 

Today was your run of the mill day so far. Emergency, after emergency, after emergency. No time to sit, no time for the restroom, no time for anything really. All that mattered were the patients and what they needed. You had felt your cell phone vibrate a few times and noticed a text from your husband, but you hadn’t had time to text him back which you figured he would understand. He’d had so many traumas today you were surprised that he had time to even reach out to you, so you really hoped everything was okay. “Hey, sweety,” Dana, your wonderful, beautiful, and flawless charge nurse called out to you as you were rushing pass the main hub. “Can you slow your roll for a sec?” You did what she asked and walked up to the other side of the desk.

“What’s up?” You asked, but you could already see the look of concern on her face. Not concern for you, just concern.

“You heard about the kid drowning?” You nodded sadly, officially giving her your undivided attention. You heard about it, but not in depth. A child dying anywhere was always a travesty. “Well your darling husband was in on it, and I think he’s having hard time.” Now you were worried, not just for your husband, but Dana. She actually said something nice about him. Sure sometimes Frank rubbed people the wrong way, hell most people. But they didn’t realize that it was the way he hid his true feelings of stress.

“Where is he?” You asked. You would stop everything to make sure that he was okay. He was always your rock, but now it was your turn. 

“Down that way,” Dana nodded her head in the direction down the hall just before the exit to the waiting room of the ER. You thanked her with a small smile and she gently patted your hand for ‘you’re welcome, dear.’When you made your way a little more down the hall you noticed your husband sitting on the bench, with his head in his hands and elbows on his knees just taking a breather for the moment.

“Hey there,” you greeted him gently so as not to startle him as you placed a hand on his upper back. Frank said nothing, didn’t even look up. He took one hand off of his face and reached out to grab your free wrist and walked you in between his legs so he could hide his face in your stomach. “I heard, I’m so sorry baby.” You whispered as you moved your hand from his back to the back of his head to run your fingers through his soft hair. You felt him let out a long exhale of relief and letting himself relax for the first time since his shift started. 

“She was so young, you know?” He mumbled into you. You nodded as he looked up at you with his beautiful blue eyes that could easily stop traffic. You answered with a soft ‘I know.’ “Do you have to go back right away?”

“No,” you shook your head taking a seat on the bench next to him. He laced his fingers with yours not wanting to let you go yet. “I think Dana will let it slide.” You smiled to yourself as he reached forward and placed a kiss on your forehead before pulling out his phone. 

“Wanna talk to Tanner with me then?” He asked you, wrapping his arm that was holding your hand around your waist. Pulling you even closer, he didn’t give a fuck who saw or who would comment. He needed solace for just five minutes, and he needed his wife. You nodded your head with a small smile as he dialed his mom’s number who answered on the second ring. “Hey, mom,” Langdon answered.

“Hey, Marlene,” you greeted his mom too, just to let her know that you were there too. 

“Hi, kids,” she greeted with what sounded like a smile on her face. “You both finally found time for breaks, huh?”

“Yeah, about that, mom. Can we talk to Tanner?” Langdon asked.

“Is everything alright?” She asked. Frank said yes, but you could see the look on his face that he was just trying to keep it together.

“Yeah, I just want to talk to him.” Frank said gently. You could see his eyes start to water and turn red, so you reached up and rubbed the corners of his eyes while you both waited for your son to come to the phone. Frank flashed you a sad but thankful smile, to which you returned.

“Daddy!” Your little boy answered the phone with so much cheer and glee.

“Hey, buddy, what’s going on? I have your mommy here too.” Langdon chuckled at the excited gasp that came from the other end of the phone. It wasn't often that Tanner was able to talk to the both of you while the two of you were at work.

“Hi, mommy. I love you!” You couldn’t help the smile that beamed on your face.

“Hey, honey! How’s it going at Grandma Langdon’s?”

“Soo much fun! We wrote a song, can I pretty please sing it.” You looked up at your husband as your heart melted. 

“Yeah absolutely, we’d love to hear your song.” Langdon’s smile started to become real as he listened to his son prepare to sing the song as he felt your head rest on his shoulder. 

In times like these, when thing seemed pretty damn bleak and he couldn’t find a way out. He was blessed and grateful that he had the most beautiful and patient wife in the world, and his children to remind him to come back from that ledge and that it was okay to come up from air once in a while. As his son started to sing, the two of you relaxed a little more into the bench and Frank pressed a grateful kiss to your lips. Sometimes it was good that his worlds collided.

[impala666]

Friends

Here it is! Another Frank Langdon x reader fic and yes I am still ignoring what happened in episode 10. I honestly don't even know if this is good, I'm half awake right now but enjoy. Maybe later down the road I'll have inspo for a Dr. Robby or Dr. Abbott (I love him so much) story, we'll just have to see.

     Before you made your friend from a higher place, Dr. Frank Langdon from the ER you used to just eat a snack or your lunch when you were on break from the lab. It was one of those situation where you both hated each other at first because you though the other was a bitch or an asshole. Which he was, but now the 2 of you bonded over that fact and became pretty close friends. 

    No you’re wondering. How can a person who works in a lab, in a basement, meet a hot shot doctor from the ER. Well, one time someone had messed up on a test in the lab and Frank, the short tempered man that he is. Some how found the time to go down to the lab to yell at the poor tech. That was when you decided and step in and fill him in on how big of an arrogant ass he was being. Because just who the hell did he think he was? Which just made him tuck tail and run out of the lab and run back to the ER. You had clearly embarrassed him, but you didn’t really care that he was a doctor. Just because someone made a mistake didn’t warrant him stopping everything in his most likely busy day to yell at the poor tech who had only started a week prior. But later in the week Dr. Langdon and yourself ran into each other in the cafeteria getting cups of bad coffee for yourselves, he paid for yours as well and profusely apologized. Acknowledging that he was indeed being an ass for yelling at someone and how embarrassed he was. 

But that was year ago, now the two of you had become very close friends after many more bad cups of coffee together and short breaks of going to each others work stations to annoy the other person when each of you got the chance. Some days Langdon would run away from the ED for 5 to 10 minutes to hang out by your desk in the lab, and of course he would bring snacks. But today was your turn, you had a whole 45 minute break, so texted him “Visit?” Making sure he wasn’t busy (he was always busy, but the closest he ever got to a break was charting). “Charting,” he replied with an eye rolling emoji which made you scoff and roll your eyes at how dramatic he was. “Come on up!” He sent immediately after.

“Hey Dana!” You greeted her after you made the small trek from the lower level of the hospital to the first floor. “How’s it going up here?”

“Hey sweetheart,” she likewise greeted you with a smile. “You know, it’s just another day in paradise.” You smiled at her small joke. “What did you bring me to pay your toll?” Dana joking rose her eyebrow at you. Technically it wasn’t the best idea for you to be up here, or for Langdon to hang in the lab. But when you brought Dana and Dr. Robby a little token of your gratitude they let it slide.

“I brought you a starbucks!” You cheered as you placed the hot paper cup in front of her before making your way towards the computers that Langdon and Robby were sitting at.

“Ohh, bless you darlin!” Dana beamed. You smiled at yourself, sometimes the doctors, nurses, etc were so much nicer than the techs down in the lab, but oh well. You made your bed and you loved doing what you did. Helping the people just not with the people. 

“Look who they let out of the dungeon!” Was Robby’s form of greeting when he looked up from his computer over his old man glasses.

“Yeah well they let me out on good behavior.” You joked back with him. “For you,” with a smile you handed him his own cup of coffee. From working in the hospital yourself, you knew that the way to anyone heart who worked here was coffee or any form of caffeine.

“What about me?” Langdon asked with mock offense, arms out wide before returning to typing on his computer.

“What about you?” You asked, leaning your forearms on the top of his cubical-like wall. Dr. Robby and you looked at Frank waiting to see what he could come up with.

“Well, what did you bring me?” Langdon asked.

“My presence, obviously.” You smiled brightly. “No, I’m totally kidding. I brought you coffee, twizzlers, and Lorna Doone cookies.” You handed him his coffee and dropped all the other goodies onto the keyboard in front of him. 

“Have a good rest of your day, alright Y/N.” Robby gave you a tight lipped smile as he got up from his chair most likely to check in on a patient. So you took that as a sign to take his rolling office chair so you could discreetly nibble on the granola bar that you brought up for yourself. As Langdon and you talked about how each of your days were going you couldn’t help but feel someone staring at you. A squirrely, sandy haired boy who looked like he was over do on a good nights sleep was staring at you from the nurses station.

“What is it?” Langdon asked as he noticed you looking at something over his shoulder. You shook your head no but couldn’t help but ask the kid what was happening. He must have been one of the new students that Langdon briefly mentioned earlier. But why stare at you when he could just introduced himself, it’s not like you would bite anyone.

“Can I help you?” Your question made the boys eyes bulge out of his skull just slightly.

“Uh, n-no. I just wanted to say that the two of you make a cute couple.” Langdon and you looked at each other with growing smiled trying your hardest not to laugh at the poor kid.

“Whitaker, you know that I’m married,” Langdon told him like it was obvious. Which to everyone it should have been, he only talked about his wife and kids all the time.

“I know, I just thought she was your wife.” Whitaker commented looking a little bit more embarrassed. 

“I’m not married,” you told the young man with a slight blush to your cheeks. This wasn’t the first time that people thought that Langdon and yourself were married or having an affair. Sometimes people in healthcare loved telling stories, which then turn into rumors that people start to believe. “We’re just friends.” Poor Whitaker looked like he was embarrassed because he thought that he was embarrassing you. Which couldn’t be farther from the truth; truth was you loved your single life! Sometimes men and women could really just be friends, but society would alway refuse to accept this. 

“S-sorry.” Whitaker stood there fiddling with his fingers like he wasn’t sure of what to do next. But then he realized that the ER patient list screen above the nurse station was his easy escape. “I have a patient to go take care of, bye.” You waved your hand after him as he scurried away. When he finally turned the corner your face turned to one of surprise and shock that that had happened, to which Langon scoffed without looking up from his twizzler in his hand and shaking his head. 

“Newbie,” he said under his breath.

“Hey,” you nudged him with your foot under the desk. “Don’t be mean.” The mix up was immediately forgotten when Langdon raced off into action, leaving you to your break in peace.

[impala666]

Just Frank

Yeah, I know I've been away for like ever but I needed to put something for The Pitt on here! I love it even though it makes me feel like I'm at work sometimes. I started writing this before the newest episode came out (Ep. 10 for reference), and I refuse to believe that they did my man Dr. Langdon dirty like that. So I'm posting this fic in hoping that it turns out okay and he comes back! But this is just about you and your husband talking about your days at the hospital cuddled in bed after you get back home from your own very long shift. I love this man and hope he's being set up! Even though I'm probably wrong.

It was officially 10:00 p.m by the time you had finally walked through the door into your apartment. A long deep breath escaped you as you let go of the long day you’d had as you took off your crocs by the door and hung your jacket on the hooks. Frank was probably already in bed himself. His shift had ended a couple of hours before your own, giving him time to feed the kids, put them to bed, and take out the new puppy that he just had to get for the kids. The thought made you smile and shake your head, you really knew that Frank got the dog for himself because as soon as he saw that little golden doodle he just had to have it. 

Due to your husband working 12 hours a day, sometimes longer you started to just leave your set of pajamas in the bathroom off of the living room. That way after your own very long day you can change and be comfortable without waking him up. Now i your old T-shirt of Frank’s and a pair of sleep shirts and slippers you tossed your soiled pair of scrubs into the washing machine to be washed the next laundry day. When a whole cup of a patients urine spilled due to improper collection you were going to need a clean pair of scrubs for the next day. Just the thought of the mishap was bringing your stress back, so it was time for a glass of wine and little bit of tv before you officially go to bed for the night. After about an hour and a glass of wine later you were officially yawning and ready for bed. The day had drained you, what you really needed was to crawl under the warm blankets and cuddle with your husband who was probably dead asleep. But when you slowly cracked open the bedroom door you learned that that was not the case. 

“Y/N?” You heard Frank’s voice, heavy with sleep calling out to you. 

“Hey,” you whispered softly. “After the day you’ve had I thought you’d be asleep by now.” You smiled at him as crawled into bed beside him. 

“I was,” he sighed somewhat dramatically. “But then I heard you get home so I started to wonder when you were going to grace me with your presence.” You just smiled at him for your comeback. Once you were settled and warm, you moved over to Frank. Put your head on his chest and wrapped your arm around him to hold him tight. 

“Ugh, I missed you.” You spoke into his chest, hiding your face as you took in his sell. He smelled of soap and aftershave. But to you it smelled like home. 

“We talked 6 hours ago,” Frank chuckled as he pressed a kiss to your hair. 

“ That didn’t count. We were at work and I had to call to report a critical.” You had to point out. Sometimes it was nice to work near your husband. With him working 12 to sometimes 24 hours and you work 9 hours into the night in the lab. Even though the two of you didn’t get the opportunity to see each other as much as you liked you could always contact each other. Sometimes if it was ever slow he would call your desk, but if the two of you were really lucky you’d get to have your breaks together. But that one was far and few between. But when the 2 of you saw each other, it was at home with your children. So the only time you had with your husband was before going to bed and waking up in the morning next to him. That is if he hadn’t been called into the ER for an emergency. 

“Yeah you’re right.” Frank admits wrapping one arm around you then running his other hand up and down your arm. “How was your day, anyway?”

“ Oh you know, same as every day. Getting specimen where they need to go to be tested, calls from tons of nurses, calls to nurses. Urine spills, lab machines malfunctioning. It was long but not the worst.” You answered him. You always felt bad talking about how tiring your day was to your husband who was a doctor in the ED and was actively saving lives everyday. But he never once said anything to you or told you that what you did was nothing compared to his. Because he knew that working anywhere in healthcare was tolling. But truth was after the day you just had you were exhausted. Getting 2 kids under 4 ready for day care was not the easiest, especially when you only have 2 hands. But when you add working on your feet all day, it wears on you. “How about you? How was your day?” Your hand on his stomach started to wander and make imaginary patterns in Frank’s t-shirt. 

“I’m assuming you heard about the little girl that drowned?” Frank asked firstly. 

“I did. I saw it on the ED list. I’m so sorry baby.” You looked up at him with sorrow, reaching up to brush the dark hair out of his face when you noticed tears starting to fill his eyes. He looked down at you trying to give a small smile, but he didn’t need to be strong right now. You placed a soft kiss on his lips and you felt his own lift ever so slightly. 

“She was just so small. It made me think of the kids.”

“That would never happen. They have Dr. Daddy and Science Mommy keeping them safe.” You smiled trying to control your giggles. 

“They told you that?” Frank asked with a surprised face that made him look adorable. 

“Yeah, they do sometimes.” You played with the hem of his shirt as you told him. “We got pretty lucky, Dr. Langdon.”

“We really did, Mrs. Langdon.” The couple just looked into each others eyes with small smiles on their faces. Not quite believing how they had ended up where they currently were. Breaking the emotional tension, Frank pressed a kiss to his wife's forehead, then her lips. Which lingered. 

“Dr. Langdon,” you said against his lips. “Don’t you have to be up for the day in 6 hours?” Asking as his hands began to wander. 

“I’m a doctor. I’m used to being overtired, it’s part of the job description.” He joked as he rolled his wife onto her back, sliding on top of her and sliding a leg between hers. “Oh, and by the way. When we’re at home, it’s Frank to you.” 

[impala666]

The Pitt (2025 - ) I 1.09

[impala666]

Residuals Pt.2

Ongoing Series

Synopsis: You and Robby spent seven long years together until the day it ended. You’ve done your best to create space; to become invisible. You can’t miss what you don’t see. Unfortunately, the universe (Gloria and the Board of Directors) seemed to have missed the memo.

Pairing: Michael ‘Robby’ Robinavitch x Reader

Genre: Established previous relationship, slight age gap (by about 15 years give or take), a little bit of tension mixed in with a little bit of hate yearning, cause she’s a saucy angsty fic ok

Warnings: Language, sexual themes (it's the patient)

A/N: So, this chapter is much beefier than the last. To anyone new here and my writing - I'm a long-winded bitch, so I apologize in advance 🤣. This chapter also uses slight dialogue from the show. There is a scene in this I took from my time working in the ER during the 2020/2021 pandemic. 100% this actually happened. It was traumatizing lol. Thank you, guys, so much for taking such an interest in this fic! For showing so much love and loving on this show along with me (and Dr. Robby lol) because it's fantastic and deserves all the fics and all the love! I truly am grateful and hope that you enjoy this chapter. Much Love, Jenn 🖤

Shout out to @viridian-dagger for looking this over for me. Thank you for putting up with me lol. I Love you. Also, thanks to @strangergraphics for the cute little divider.

Word count: 7524

Previous I Next

7:00 AM - 8:00 AM

You’d been staring at the screen for what accumulated into an eternity in the ED. The longer you kept staring, kept from just choosing one of the damn patients on the board, the bigger the risk grew that Dana would notice.

Or worse - Robby. 

If Dana took notice of you willfully choosing to stare off into premeditated space, you were willing to bet your firstborn she’d reprimand you first and tell Robby second. She'd shoo you away from her desk with a fervor usually saved for psych patients, as if you had cooties. With your current calculations on how this morning started, either option would be unpleasant. 

Whether any of you liked it or not, you were here, and that meant one glaringly - neon sign bright - reality. Robby was going to be your fucking boss for the next twenty-four hours. And not in a kinky way. At least, not the way either of you used to enjoy.  

From the moment the briefing ended, the disdain at your presence made it painfully clear that you were not welcome. Everyone dispersed in true manic speed to meet the batshit energy that constantly swirled inside the Pitt. It was the place that kept on giving even when you politely asked to be put in time out - because damn you needed just a moment to get your shit together. But the ER was in its own solar system, and it required everyone who walked inside to be ready for whatever was thrown their way. You didn’t get a say - weren’t allowed to say no or ‘hard pass’, on cases that came flowing in and what dictated an emergency. You were either ready or you weren’t. You either made it or you cracked.

There wasn’t any damn structure here. Just spontaneity with a dash of madness but, in that madness, greatness could be born. Adamson always said you never knew what kind of doctor you were - the depths of your compassion - until it was tested in the blood, sweat, and fire of the Pitt. 

You’d been tried, tested, and by the end knew exactly what kind of doctor you were. What kind of doctor you strived to be - like Adamson. Just like Robby. But it’d been two very long years since you’d been able to call this madhouse home. The ease of set-timed patients with a patient history readily at your fingertips had spoiled you. Every question that needed to be asked without actually asking was answered and waiting just for you to see. Pre-existing conditions or possible new ones with known side effects were readily available for you to view.

So, yeah, you were panicky - terrified - about heading out onto the floor with a thousand unknowns. It wasn’t helping that Perlah and Princess hadn’t greeted you with more than a sneer and an eye roll that’d impress your fifteen-year-old niece. Robby and his flock of med students bounded off to make rounds that lasted less than three minutes before rapids began flowing through the ambulance bay. With any luck, you’d have one solid minute to look over the board, dissect what room held the most viable case to close, and head there. 

Just jump right back in and pray you didn’t fall flat on your face. 

The numbing sensation that resonated earlier in your chest returned with a vengeance. It didn’t start gradually, but collided against your nerves; exploding like a colony of ants that bit and tore leaving behind flashes of panic. You tried to lead the sensation out through your hands with a subtle shake. If you allowed the anxiety to fester itself it would no doubt become housed to you the entire shift.

You were better than this. You interned in the Pitt. You chose to stay after you’d obtained a full-time position. Two years away from this damn madhouse shouldn’t have affected you this strongly but that wasn’t accounting for outside stimuli…

But looking up at the large TV monitor, new names being added to the FirstNet system with brightly colored labels, it made you want to scream. It made you feel hopeless.

Fuck. You were better than this. 

The background erupted with shouts from an incoming trauma. Two severe traumas from the sound of rushing feet and Robby’s directions. You didn’t hear most of what the paramedics relayed to Robby and the med students. You did, however, catch the word degloving as they rolled into trauma rooms one and two. You did not envy the med students.

You gave your hands one last shake as your eyes combed over the patient list one more time. You’d found a possible ingestion of a foreign object by a child in triage room eleven. Simple. Easy. You were already going over possible orders to give. An x-ray was to get a better picture if the obstruction was heading downward or if an endoscopy would be necessary for removal. What signs to look for as you assessed the child while making sure they were still alert and swallowing normally. You thought of how to introduce yourself when a familiar voice thrust you back into the present. 

“Forget how to read a patient board, Fullerton?”

Dana’s words were pure ice. The years of friendship and playful jokes appeared to be burned to a pile of ash. You didn’t need to look at her to know she wasn’t regarding you with a friendlier expression than Perlah had moments before. 

“No,” you sighed, your eyes finally dragged from the screen to her. “Just taking in the options.”

“This isn’t a buffet, in case you forgot. I know it runs easier and less dirty for you guys upstairs, but down here time is a precious commodity.”

“I am well aware of how simple consultations can turn serious, Dana.”

“Oh, you do,” she gasped in mock surprise. She’d removed her glasses from her nose and held them against her chest. “I guess that means you should stop wasting time and do your job. Don’t want your Press Ganey scores droppin’.”

“Not that I don’t love the pep talk, Dana. I’m just curious, are you going to be riding my ass this hard the whole shift?”

The question was out of your mouth before you could stop it. The ears of every available RN and technician who sat around Dana’s nursing station no doubt heard. The verbal back and forth so early in the morning was beginning to give you whiplash.

“I don’t know, sunshine is there a reason you think I shouldn’t? You know,” she began, her body involuntarily inching closer. Her shoulder leaned in closer so her barbed words could sink deep enough to wound. “What a surprise to learn that this whole time - the entire fucking two years you were gone - you’d simply been up-fucking-stairs.”

It was in those last few words you saw it. It was so quick you might’ve missed it if you weren’t dialed in. No matter what Dana, or anyone else, said to you today, it would never compare to the carnage you’d left behind with your silence. The pain of seeing the hurt you’d left behind, sharp and unforgiving, was like a lancet; slicing through the tough hide you’d prepared for the day. 

“Dana -” 

Shit, you did not need your voice to crack. You did not need to crack. 

Unluckily for you, she wasn’t in the mood to hear from you. A hand rushed up to brush off whatever weak attempt at placating her she knew you would try and send her way.

“I don’t want to hear it, kid. Months I was worried sick about you. Just to find out you chose to forget we even existed down here. A literal ghost walking back into our lives right when we’ve just about healed. You’re a real asshole, Fullerton.”

She lifted the glasses back to rest on the bridge of her nose. The coolness of her stare reminded you - if her final words didn’t - that you weren’t a welcome sight in the Pitt. Your presence threw off what little harmony they coveted, the family dynamics, and you knew she would fight to preserve it - to protect Robby -  and everyone else in the process.

Your tongue pressed against the side of your cheek. A weak balm to cool the warring wave of emotions that rapidly replaced the anxiety that moments ago threatened to shatter you into embarrassing little pieces. Now you only felt like shattering for an entirely different reason. 

Dana tore her gaze away from you and answered an incoming phone call. Whatever emotions she contended with were conveniently pushed down because she had a job to do. So did you. You found yourself wanting to say to hell with today; with Gloria and all her standards. You hadn’t agreed to be fucking public enemy number one. 

It didn’t matter how anyone else saw you. What mattered right now was the glaringly obvious pain you’d caused to someone who was the Pitt’s raining surrogate mother. Who’d checked in on you, and brought extra food from home because she miraculously knew you’d forgotten yours. A friend that invited you to her family’s Christmas Eve dinner your first year as an intern because you didn’t have family to celebrate with. The woman who’d held you when you’d lost your first patient and scolded you about smoking cigarettes even though she smoked herself. 

You wanted to be stubborn. To wait for her to get off that damn phone so you could try and explain, but really what could you say? It wasn’t just Robby you left. You’d chosen to abandon ship with all of them aboard a sinking ship. They never even knew they needed life jackets in the first place. 

The cool stare of the nursing staff made your back itch. You needed to get away and get back to why you were here. What you were damn good at doing. Clearing your throat, you made your way around the nurses' station. The stride of your steps was suspiciously close to turning into a jog. Although, you’d never admit that out loud.  The sooner you could get to the patient's room the more normal this day would be.

“Holy shit, Fullerton? Is that you?”

The chipper tone and the laughter behind it had warning bells going off in your head in a matter of minutes. You only knew one surgeon who took glee in other people’s discomfort. 

Yolanda Garcia, the resident pain in the ass at Pittsburgh Trauma Medical Center, beamed at you like the cat who was dangerously close to eating a new canary. You had a not-so-sneaking suspicion you were the canary in this scenario. 

“I don’t know, Garcia does it look like me? It’s too early for you to be hallucinating.”

“Does Robby know you’re here?”

Oh, she had to be eating this up. The sheer mayhem she knew this would cause - psychologically speaking - must have been making her toes curl. She was beaming, practically euphoric from the very thought.  Her feet were no doubt burning to run and tell him as if he didn’t already know. 

You tried to sidestep around her obnoxiously grinning form only for her to shadow your movement. 

“It’s great to see you haven’t lost that dream of auditioning for the Wicked Witch of the East, Yolanda.”

“Robby is going to flip when he hears about this.”

“Great. Why don’t you run along now and tell him,” you quipped while patting her arm. “I have patients to attend to.” 

“I bet you do.”

This time when you moved to sidestep her, Garcia didn’t make any move to follow. No doubt too busy riding her broom to be the harbinger of doom all over again for one specific unfortunate soul. 

“Are you aware that Fullerton is here? Just walking around the Pitt attending to patients?”

It shouldn’t have come as a shock that once Garcia saw you, she’d use you in any capacity to rile him up. Hell, Robby was willing to bet the minute she’d noticed you - whether walking or inside a patient room - Garcia would’ve encroached on your space. The two of you historically had one of the worst feuds Adamson said he’d seen between interns in years. It didn’t surprise him that even after you’d both secured your jobs within the hospital it never ended.

What did surprise him was how breezily she asked her questions. She hadn’t even taken five steps into trauma one before she fired each one off in his direction. His hands crossed his body to grip his shoulders. He needed something to steady himself and each finger that dug into the meat of his biceps was all he needed to help keep him centered. Keep his head in this room with this patient and not somewhere else.

“Yes, Dr. Garcia I am well aware she is here.”

He watched the exchange between Collins and Garcia and nodded his approval at Collin’s when she stood her ground and called for a popliteal block instead of morphine. 

“Where’s the next guy?”

“Next door. He’s a bit worse.”

This was something he could do. Something his mind could piece together and work around. Robby knew medicine. Saving lives wasn’t the hardest part of his day - it was having to try and make sense of his own that held that prize.

Garcia was in the middle of giving one last instruction of what she wanted before she fully followed him into the room. Dr. Mohan and a med student, Santos, were in the process of intubating Mr. Wallace. 

“How do you feel about that?”

Robby had been so laser-focused watching them place the tube that he hadn’t heard Dr. Garcia the first time. So, of course, she asked again. 

“Feel about what?”

He was under the impression they were focused on the patient. He should've known better when it came to Garcia. She was relentless until she got what she wanted.

“Come on, Robby, let’s not be coy. You expect me to believe you don’t have big feelings about her being down here? You guys were engaged - ”

A split second. That was all it took for him to become glaringly aware of the room. Of all the people in it, they no longer were singularly focused on the patient but split down the middle. While Garcia effortlessly watched over the med students and their progress, she equally watched him for any sign of a reaction. 

He needed to put an end to her question before she overshared information that first-day interns had no business knowing. Robby found himself itching under the watchful gazes of staff. Princess in particular he caught glancing up from where she was handing over instruments. 

“I don’t see how that information pertains to anything dealing with our patients, Dr. Garcia. How about we stay focused on the task at hand.”

Robby saw the smirk on her face. A dog with a bone. That’s what Garcia was going to be like all fucking day because she was just eating this up. 

He put himself back in motion - being the watchful attendee as Dr. Mohan successfully placed the intubation tube. 

“I’m in!”

“Good! Well done.”

Robby could do this. He could be a doctor. He could be the attendee overseeing and teaching others. He could do this. He could do this. He listened closely as Dr. King checked for the patient’s medical history - there was none. He listened to Yolanda give off medication to administer before shipping Mr. Wallace up to CT for a scan. Once Robby was sure everything was moving smoothly, he moved around the foot of the patient’s bed to stand next to Princess. 

“Do me a favor,” he asked gently, “Swap out with Jessie for me, would you?”

Their degloving patient screamed in a language no one knew but - Robby was hoping - Princess would know. He was following behind her when a familiar - and unwelcome voice - called out behind him. 

“Dr. Robinavitch. Do you have a moment?”

No. He would never have another fucking moment for Gloria. She effectively used up every last moment he had left to spare when she dragged you down here. Robby was barely holding on to what small pieces of sanity he had left. He didn’t need any more shit to deal with before 7:30 am. 

“Ugh, I’m a little busy right now, Gloria. One sec.”

He meant no fucking seconds but he still had to play nice, right. Robby was never good at playing politics. Adamson told him countless times it was the unseen added responsibility of an attending. The constant hounding from the administration staff and CEOs demanding doctors and nurses carried more than just keeping people alive. 

Gloria followed him through the rooms and stood at the side. Her presence was a constant reminder to him that she wasn’t going to leave empty-handed. 

Robby did all he could to monitor the med students’ and his residents as they made their assessments. When Princess notified him she couldn’t figure out the language, Robby took it as a small win to allow him to grab language services, giving him a few seconds to breathe. 

It was short-lived. 

By the time the officer walked in, Gloria had her fill of being on the back burner. She wouldn’t be ignored any longer and they both knew Robby was no longer needed. His residents’ had both patients stabilized and were finishing up preparing them to begin proper treatments. It left him the odd man out. It left him having to take a walk with Gloria. 

The walking and talking was about metrics - Press Ganey scores. The endless bitching about low numbers that couldn’t be fixed without proper staffing was affecting patient satisfaction. It was easy for Gloria to pin the poor numbers on Robby, Abbot, and the entire Pitt staff. Easier to claim they just weren’t already busting their ass hard enough instead of admitting they were short-staffed in every department. That their metrics and data issues of force-fed shitty scores could be solved simply by hiring more nurses - paying better wages. 

But everything Robby ever said - tried to tell Gloria until his vision reddened - fell on uncaring ears. 

After everything he tried to tell her again all she latched onto was when he used the word “Pitt” instead of the official term of an emergency department. Derogatory. That was what she called it. Incompatible with institutional images.

Robby wanted to scream. 

“You know what's incompatible with the institution's image? Me speaking to the media about people who code in our waiting rooms and people who get shitty care in our hallways waiting for an ICU bed for days.” 

“I’ve heard about doctors who tried that and found themselves out of work.” 

The thinly veiled threat wasn’t lost on him. The next words he would’ve liked to have said to Gloria in response, he was forced to cover up under a mirthless laugh. 

“I know today is difficult for you - “

Fuuuck no. No. He was not doing this, especially not with Gloria. No matter what was said after this, Robby could feel the cusp of a storm riding at the frayed edges of his psyche. Knew it was there with each passing millisecond as he waited for it to implode. 

“Everyday is difficult down here,” he bit in. 

“Boarding is a nationwide problem. Your predecessor, Adamson, sure as hell knew that. Or wasn’t that something he taught you?”

And there it fucking was. His eyes snapped shut as he tried to rain in the tidal wave that roared in his ears. The cautionary warnings of a catastrophe brewing beneath the surface only grew louder. 

It wasn’t even fucking 7:30 yet. 

“Fuuuuck. Wow. Really?”

“Yes. Really.”

Gloria would never back down. She was as strong and determined as anyone Robby ever met. Under different circumstances, he would’ve found her impressive, but this wasn’t any other circumstance than her riding his ass like she usually did. 

Robby shook his head again to try and clear the black dots from his vision. It was just a brief shake. His eyes skimmed across each full bed that held a waiting patient. The universe must have perfect timing with fucking with him today. In that brief look, Robby watched you appear from behind a patient curtain. A reassuring smile on your face as you spoke one final time to the family of three inside before you closed it shut behind you. 

You weren’t aware he’d seen you - that he was watching. It was a split second but live wires only needed one second to find a conduit to create sparks that burned down everything around it. He shook his head to try and clear it. His gaze landing back on Gloria with a new bone to pick. 

“Don’t you think you should’ve cleared it with me before you brought Dr. Fullerton down?”

Before his sentence finished, Robby could tell by Gloria’s response she found his question idiotic. 

“Oh, I’m sorry. I was unaware the board needed to clear every decision with you first, Dr. Robby. Also, weren’t you just complaining about the lack of staffing?”

“I was saying to hire more nurses - not to bring down a doctor from a whole other floor.”

“A doctor who has been with this hospital for close to a decade, trained by Adamson, and you, might I add. Look, I get it. You two have…history. Which is one of the main reasons we frown upon fraternization.”

“Please, spare me the HR talk, Gloria.”

“You need to put your big boy pants on, Dr. Robby. Fullerton is staying down here whether you like it or not. Don’t like it, can’t manage the crisis or who the hospital chooses to staff down in the ER, you can either step up or step aside.”

Gloria didn’t give him a chance to respond. She gave him one last condescending look, one Robby hoped he mirrored back to her, before turning on her heels and walking away. His eyes followed her for a few seconds, debating if he wanted to chase after her. Just hand over his badge and call it quits because the feeling of defeat weighed so damn heavy on his shoulders that he thought there might be a chance he’d never get back up. 

Instead, he turned to look at the nursing station where Dana was casually walking. He knew she heard the entire conversation. He just didn’t want to have to repeat what just occurred or discuss it in the slightest. 

He stuck his hands in the pockets of his hoodie and was ready to return into the fray because he could handle that. He could help patients. He could be the doctor they needed. Before he even moved a step Dana motioned for him to come towards the desk. 

The little devil on his shoulder warned him that he might end up regretting it. 

“You know, Robby, I’ve been thinking - “

“Why do I feel like this isn’t going to go well,” he sighed. 

Dana simply waved him off before she continued. 

“You aren’t being very realistic on the whole, ‘stay in the triage only’ demand. You want her to just waste her skills by only helping out in the front?”

“She won’t be wasting them,” he huffed. 

His hands reached out to grip the edge of the counter. He didn’t want to have this conversation. He did not want to have this conver -

“I think you’re just hoping that’s where she stays so you don’t have to see her.”

“One can dream, Dana.”

Robby did not trust - nor like - the coy look he received in response to his words. 

“Who am I to get in the way of a man’s dream?” She replied, her eyes examining him in a way he hated. No one could hide anything from Dana.  “Although, if I know you -“

“Dana -“ he warned. 

“ - I would be willing to bet -“

“Dana, I’m being serious -“

“ - that you want to see her.”

“Now why would I want that?”

“You’ve been scanning the halls every few seconds since we’ve been talking, Robby. I don’t think you’re admiring the wonderful view of bodily fluids and stale piss scent.”

“Alright I’ve had enough of your idea of what I’m assuming is a half-assed pep talk.”

“Just…be honest with yourself, Robby. You both got a lot of unresolved tension with a dash of a shit ton of issues. Probably be better to hash it out when you can, and in private, instead of exploding in front of interns or patients.”

Robby wanted to question if she was willing to do the same. Would Dana be able to have you come to the desk for patient transfer information, for updates, calls; and for everything and not be as affected as he was? Robby remembered he wasn’t the only one who’d lost you - felt lost without you. 

Robby wasn’t ready to confront you. Hell, he wasn’t ready to be alone with you and try to talk like civil adults. He wasn’t there yet and maybe he wouldn’t be. What he could be was an attending physician. He was great at that. 

He could do that.  Everything else would just have to wait. 

Upon further examination of the little penny swallower in 7 North, he showed no signs of abnormal drooling or trouble swallowing. Palpitating the stomach didn’t have any response of abdominal pain or tenderness. With a few more questions about possible fever or trouble breathing, you felt confident in informing the family an x-ray would be needed just to verify the penny was making safe travels down to be…expelled. Easier and less invasive to exit that way. 

You told them once you were notified the x-ray results were ready, you’d come to speak to them about the next steps. Hopefully, it meant they could be discharged in an hour or less. Which meant you had an hour to kill between waiting for the results. After reading the chief complaint on the board for 12 South, you thought it was a solid contender for a quickie. 

As it turned out, it was the worst idea you’d had that morning. 

When you pulled back the curtain and began the examination, what you’d found waiting for you under the dressing gown wasn’t on your bingo card. Actually, it should never be on anyone’s bingo card. Not ever. 

You’d tried to come up with any other option than needing to consult Robby. He didn’t want to see you throughout the day - ever. It was a sentiment you equally shared with him and one you happily would’ve avoided except…you need the advice. 

You need to present the case and get some solid, solid advice and, quite possibly, traumatize him in the process. You couldn’t be the only one subjected to seeing what you saw at freaking 7:37 in the morning. The only issue: you had no fucking clue where he was. 

In true Pitt fashion, doctors were bouncing from one room to another. Already you’d heard McKay call earlier about needing a crash cart. When you’d run out to assist, Mateo, a newer RN you’d yet to meet let you know they had it - if you were needed they’d call. 

You also knew that after 7:30, rigs would be bringing in elderly patients from the nursing homes. Another thing that would keep Robby busy and make it near impossible for you to try and consult with him. It was already going to be a battle just to keep him from turning and bolting in the other direction when he saw you. 

This limbo of time left you a few minutes to run to the break room and take a blissful sip of your more than likely room-temperature coffee. It didn’t matter: caffeine was caffeine and you would take it any way you could get it. You just had to make one last pit stop before you disappeared. 

You circled the nurses' station and found the exact nurse you were looking for sitting at one of the station’s computers. You had to hand it to Perlah, whether she saw you coming or sensed your presence like a disturbance in the force, she refused to glance up from the screen. Her eyes scan over something repeatedly as her fingers pound into the keyboard. 

“Perlah, have you seen Robby?”

She still wasn’t looking up.

“Nope,” she replied, popping her P heavily. 

“If you do see him, can you let him know I’m looking for him?”

“Nope.”

Your lips tucked into a grimace as your gaze peered over the edge of the computer. Perlah’s eyes didn’t lift once. 

“Okay. Great talk.”

“Mhmm.”

Yeah, today was off to a really fantastic start. 

There wasn’t any point hanging around the nurses' station for longer than was embarrassingly needed. You took the loss in stride, and by stride, it meant with a heavy sigh of defeat that had your feet dragging that defeatist attitude into the breakroom. Where you found one of Robby’s newest med students sitting at the break room’s table. 

If you felt defeated, you weren’t sure what the proper word for her would be. She looked like a reprimanded child instead of a doctor. Her small frame was tucked in tight, like a fetal position with her forehead almost completely collapsing onto the table. 

You weren’t able to catch any of their names earlier because you all but missed morning rounds. All you knew was she was one of Robby’s four interns and by far the youngest from the looks of it. 

You eyed her warily as you moved towards the side counter. You’d stashed your coffee on top of the microwave and, once in hand, immediately brought it to your lips for a long pull. 

Yep. It tasted as good as you thought it would. 

The girl brightened once she realized you’d entered. Her nerves had her eyes darting down and back up again seemingly unable, or just not comfortable enough, to keep them trained on you. 

“You’re one of Robby’s new med students today, right?” A timid smile rose and fell on her lips. You watched while she tried to make out if you were friend or foe. In an attempt to prove the former, you offered up a warm smile as you introduced yourself. 

“Victoria Javadi - MS3.”

“It’s a pleasure, Dr. Javadi. May I ask what you’re doing in the breakroom instead of out in the Pitt?”

Your question was meant to be that: a simple question. No ulterior motives were waiting in the wings especially not the lecture Adamson gave you your first year when he caught you napping in here. But your simple question extinguished what little bit of life had lit up in the young girls’ eyes. 

“I - I - my foot hit a gurney during Dr. Collin’s and Dr. Langdon’s demonstration on the degloving patient. It was nothing.” 

It wasn’t nothing. Whatever happened was everything to her and not in the best of ways. 

“That’s okay. It happens,” you shrugged. “I stuck myself with a needle once.”

“Really?” She asked, her voice timid and eyes unbelieving. 

“Oh, yeah. My second year of residency too. The patient became combative while I was trying to administer the medication. The needle got jammed in my clavicle.” 

You couldn’t believe it - it earned you a laugh. A nervous one, but it was still a laugh. You watched her as she brightened and dimmed; a constant flux of warring thoughts that you weren’t sure which side was winning. 

“Whatever happens out there, don't let it get you down. We never stop learning as human beings or as doctors. Everyone out there has made a mistake in some capacity. Hell,” you snorted as you pushed off from the kitchenette’s counter, “Michael got hit with a bedpan once.”

“Michael?”

God, you’d gotten too familiar. Your memory of that day makes you have a Freudian slip into the days you called him more by his first name instead of his nickname. 

“Oh, uhm, Dr. Robby. I’m going to head out but if you want, once you’re done here, you can come find me. I’d be more than happy to teach you.”

“Thank you, but I’m sure Dr. Robby is just having me take a break. It’ll be fine. I’ll be fine.” 

You were tempted to tell her to come find you anyway, just in case. In case it didn’t go how she thought when she did finally check back in with Robby. Whether she verbally agreed to the offer or not, you hoped she knew it was still there. This was a teaching hospital after all. 

Dana and Robby were walking back to the nurses' station. He’d just gotten one major surprise of finding out Javadi was Eileen Shamsi’s daughter and while he was all for surprises, that was one he'd like to have been prepared for. 

Just like Dana had warned him, via Perlah, that you were looking for him he saw you standing there waiting. For him. He’d had all of five seconds to come to terms with the fact you were both about to have your first direct conversation in over two years. After two long years of no contact, it was about work. 

He should’ve been happy it was just about work and not all the other bullshit that’d accumulated over those two years. He should’ve been fucking thrilled, but he wasn’t. Robby had so many questions - so many things he wanted to say. There was so much to say - to ask - and instead here he was preparing to discuss something easy. 

Robby and Dana split up at the middle entrance. She returned to man her station in the center of this circus, while he came up to stand beside you leaning against the nurses' station. Your fingers tapped on the counter while your chin rested in your other hand. 

“Something’s got you deep in thought.”

Robby knew the answer - knew it because outside of himself, outside of Jake, you were the only other person he knew inside out. Your fidgeting fingers, a tick he knew well, would tap out a Morse Code of a problem you were trying to solve. The faster the tapping, the closer Robby knew you were coming closer to asking for his opinion. You’d done this all the years you’d worked together and at home when you couldn’t decide if oregano was an okay substitution for Italian seasoning. 

“Cock rings.”

“Excuse me?”

Robby could feel his eyebrows skyrocketing towards the ceiling. He rocked forward and back on his feet while the fists he’d buried inside his hoodie pushed against the fabric. His body subconsciously leaned towards you because, well hell, he couldn’t believe those two words just left your mouth. 

He hated that his eyes caught the slight uptick in the corner of your mouth. The same corner where all your sarcastic ass smirks originated before they blackmailed their way to full-blown smiles. What Robby hated the most was how that small bit of familiarity took a sledgehammer to the carefully constructed walls he’d built. Fucking hated how his lips betrayed him by beginning to match the playfulness in your eyes. Loathed entirely how his heart did somersaults like he was a teenager again and the girl he’d crushed on just looked at him like he hung the stars. 

“Cock rings.” You said it like it wasn’t the lewdest thing he’d heard all day. Simple. Matter-of-fact. “What do you know about them?”

This was fucking absurd, was all he could think. 

“Uhm, why exactly is this your question?” 

“Jesus, Robby, I’m not asking if you’ve used them. My patient in 12 South - was brought in by his mother for supposed swelling and pain in the inguinal region. Upon examination, found he attached sixteen key rings as makeshift cock rings along the length of his penis.”

His brain was still in the process of trying to comprehend the scenario you’d just fed him. That was his excuse for his eloquent reply, “You’re fucking kidding me.” 

“I sincerely, with my full chest, wish I was. He’s traumatized. Mom’s traumatized. Shit, I’m traumatized, but I can’t figure out a safe alternative to removing the rings without causing damage.”

“What are you two discussing?” 

Dana seemed to arrive at the best and worst possible moment because Robby didn’t know how to answer that question. Apparently, you had no problem informing her it was - 

“Cock rings.”

Robby wondered if Dana’s stunned-to-silence expression was how he’d looked earlier.

“Well, shit, Fullerton this is the wrong department for that - “

“It’s my patient in 12 South. He decided to MacGyver himself some cock rings out of key rings.”

“What about MacGyver?” 

Langdon slid a tablet back on the charging station - gaze laser focused between you and him. One of Langdon’s brows rose in silent question that Robby could only answer with a shrug. 

“I’m sorry but who is MacGyver?” Dr. King asked, eyes shifting with expectation between the four of them for whoever would give up the answer. 

“MacGyver’s an old 80’s TV show where the detective guy gets himself out of sticky situations by using random stuff.”

“Random stuff?”

“Anything eye level,” you quipped. 

“Okay, anyways, Fullerton,” Langdon butted in, “What’s with your MacGyver patient.”

“Cock rings.”

Robby swore if he heard the words “cock” and “ring” come out of your mouth one more time he was going to fucking combust.

“Cock…rings?”

From how green Mel looked after stuttering out those words, Robby was sure he wasn’t alone in his earlier sentiment. 

“They say it’s meant to enhance stimulation by restricting blood flow to the penis. I’m pretty sure men buy them because it enlarges the penis making it thicker with the possibility they’ll last longer in bed. You can currently pick one up on Amazon.”

“Jesus,” Dana mumbled. 

“Really?” 

Mel took a giant step closer to the edge of the desk. Her earlier discomfort was removed by the idea of garnering new information. The warning signs were blaring loudly when you whipped your phone from your scrub's back pocket. 

“Oh, yeah and they come in different styles of materials - “  

“Oookay.” Robby heard more than enough. If he was being honest with himself, fuck he hated how it bothered him hearing you talk so casually about sex toys. Toys he knew, for a fact, the two of you never used because he never needed the extra help. He knew every inch of your skin; how you liked to be handled and touched. Could recall with crystal clarity the plains of your body, mapped out to memory by his hands, by his mouth, and the way your breath would hitch just before a moan slid past your lips. If any asshole was touching you now - he wasn’t fucking doing it right. Clearing his throat - and his fucking head because Jesus H. Christ - he rested his forearms on the counter as he leaned closer to you. “Can we please move past showing my med students unnecessary sex toys?” 

Robby was leaned down enough that the next time you looked at him it was direct. Direct and ready to challenge him every step of the way. A spark of some hidden remark you were burying back under your tongue brightened his favorite color of iris. 

“Squeamish, Michael?”

And there it was again. That fucking smirk. 

The use of his name falling so casually from your lips was a gut punch that stole the air from his lungs. He couldn’t stop the pinch of his eyes that narrowed in on you. 

Did you just lean closer?

“Not particularly, no. I am, however, making sure we aren’t having an unnecessary conversation that doesn’t pertain to the care and wellbeing of our patients.”

“Sex education is fundamental education. Dr. King asked a question and I was teaching. This form of teaching does pertain to my specific patient who used a similar style of material usually made for this particular toy and, because of lack of education, thought key rings would be a supplementary alternative rather than a safer one. In showing Dr. King the types of materials safely used, and how obtainable and discrete it is to get one, she could educate someone else if she finds herself in a similar situation. Also, it’s 2025, Dr. Robby - we don’t kink shame here. We educate on safe sex practices.”

“Here, here!”

Robby shot a look in Dana’s direction and caught the wisp of a smile before she turned away. 

“What a great speech just to cover up your kinks, Fullerton.”

Robby couldn’t tell if Langdon was trying to bait you on purpose just to rile you up or to get you to slip up. He got neither in return. 

“You found me out, Frank.”

“Alright, enough.” He needed to cut in before you both went back and forth in an endless loop of who could irritate who the most. It was just a little over half an hour into the shift. “Dr. Fullerton, is there anything else?”

“Ugh, yeah. You still haven’t given me your opinion.”

“Because you never asked a specific question,” he reminded you. 

He watched you consider his words; your lips rising into that small pucker. It was your tell that always let him know the debating was over and you were ready to listen to what he had to say. 

A part of him hated the familiarity that rested between the two of you. Fuck, you hadn’t changed. Not in any way Robby was able to notice. It was barbaric; and painfully unfair that every mannerism and every glance housed years’ worth of memories. The most painful part of being reminded was the remembrance of loss. 

Loving you had been as easy as breathing for him. Until it wasn’t. 

The communication the two of you held so easily for years was torn apart during the pandemic. There was too much happening and not enough support mentally when the PTSD started. When the sleeplessness and hopeless feeling began to press a weight down on his chest - his existential crisis bloomed red and bright. Robby didn’t know how to stop the bleeding. 

And then you…you’d…

“You’re right, I didn’t.” Your words cut through the fog in his mind, bringing him roaring back to the surface. “If you have a few moments, I would like to get your opinion on my patient and what you think will be best for this particular…situation.”

Robby pushed his arms off the counter. An arm swept out in the direction of the hallway south to indicate you could lead. 

“Alright. Let’s see what you got.”

You clapped your hands together before you took a step forward. You hadn’t expected him to agree and the giddiness at winning a battle - or not having to fight one? - intoxicated him. A ghost of a smile tilting the edges of his lips unwillingly up. 

The two of you’d made it about five feet before Myrna rolled herself from beside her latest haunt. 

“Hey Sugar Tits, where are you skipping off to?”

“Myrna, I’ve expressly told you, my name is Dr. Robby.”

“I’m not talking to you, Fruitcake.” 

“It’s me,” you whisper to him before returning your attention to Myrna. Never stopping. Always moving. “I can’t talk now, Myrna. I have a patient.”

“You always say you have a patient,” came her gruff reply.

It was the first hint her chipper demeanor was about to expire. 

“Yes, because this is the ER; where I work.”

“Fuck you.”

“Nice talking to you again too, Myrna.”

The walk to 12 South wasn’t quick enough. Every step and moment he spent walking beside you sent a flood of memories rushing to the surface. Robby didn’t know how to do this. He didn’t know how to pretend you hadn’t shared a life - that he hadn’t spent time loving you in every way he could. 

“Fruitcake, huh?”

Your words cut through his thoughts and, at first, he’d been grateful for the interruption. Grateful until Robby noticed the teasing gleam in your eyes. How he could spot the mischief that darkened your eyes and didn’t have enough time to prepare. 

“Don’t want to talk about it,” he grumbled.

He didn’t need to look to know you were side-eyeing him.

“It could be worse.”

“Oh, no I doubt that.”

“She could call you something less delicious.”

His hand was mid-reach to pull back the curtain. Your sentence pulled him short and forced him to look down at you like you’d just grown a second head. 

“You think fruitcake is delicious? Nobody thinks fruitcake is delicious.”

“True, but it’s arguably better to be called a shitty holiday dessert than, say, something like cocksucker,” you shrugged, moving yourself around him to push behind the curtain. 

He was supposed to be angry with you - and he was. He fucking was but…it was easy, almost too fucking easy, to forget the last few months that led up to what dissolved your relationship. It was easy to forget you’d both broken each other in different ways. Robby should’ve hated you, but he couldn’t, and, because of that, he was grateful you couldn’t hear the chuckle he tried to shake away before he followed in after you.

____________

As always thank you so much for your support and for reading! Comments and reblogs are always appreciated! Much Love,

[impala666]

HELP! Can someone please help me find the 20 Years Later series that someone wrote for the first season of The Last of Us!? I’ve been looking to reread it before season 2 comes out.

[impala666]

Residuals

Ongoing Series

Synopsis: You and Robby spent seven long years together until the day it ended. You’ve done your best to create space; to become invisible. You can’t miss what you don’t see. Unfortunately, the universe (Gloria and the Board of Directors) seemed to have missed the memo.

Pairing: Michael ‘Robby’ Robinavitch x Reader

Genre: Established previous relationship, slight age gap (by about 15 years give or take), a little bit of tension mixed in with a little bit of hate yearning, cause she’s a saucy angsty fic ok

A/N: So, I kept telling myself I wasn’t going to do this, but honestly, I’m such a sl*t for Noah Wyle and older men. I also kept running into there being just hardly any fics in general for this amazing show and so…here I am. Attempting to create my version with an OC that does have a last name (it's for the doctor purposes but also I hate that whole y/n, y/l/n stuff, ok? It just throws my ass off and throws me out of a story) and follows along with the episodes of the show. Idk how this will go or be received but I’m here wrecking myself. Much Love

Shout out to @viridian-dagger for looking this over for me and hyping me up when I feel like my shit is trash. I Love you. Also, thanks to @strangergraphics for the cute little divider.

Word Count: 3259

7:00 AM

“No, absolutely not. Ask someone else.”

The break room was the perfect place for Gloria’s early morning ambush. You’d barely pushed in the numbers on the keypad, the door swinging open when your gaze homed in on her position leaning against the small kitchenette. The words blurted out from a place deeply seeded in not being ready for her or the administration's early morning bullshit. You hadn’t even got to enjoy your coffee yet. 

You’d turned on your heel and raced back out the door in what could’ve been record time. Your hand tried to steady the sloshing of your coffee as you could feel Gloria hot on your heels. 

“You don’t even know what I was going to ask, Dr. Fullerton.”

“You’re right - I don’t. However, seeing you this early, Gloria is not a good omen for starting my day.”

There was nowhere in the entire trauma center that you could go to get away from her and, knowing Gloria, she wasn’t going to make it easy for you. Realistically, you understood that Gloria was just another cog in the corporate machine. She rode your ass - and every other medical professional in the system from doctors during residency to technicians and CNAs - because it’s what the big bad CEOs demanded. The hospital functioned on efficiency facilitated by money and if too many bad Yelp reviews arrived it systematically hurt numbers. Bad numbers equaled a bad flow of funds. 

Gloria no doubt listened to her bosses during an early morning meeting where they rattled off complaint after complaint that dealt with a showcase of data and numbers. Both, of which, the board constantly claimed, showed the true efficiency of the hospital - not the life-saving measures taken to keep people alive. No doubt its main focus rested on the emergency department downstairs, because, once again, Yelp reviews of massive wait times and poor satisfaction scores outweighed the expertise of attending doctors. 

You didn’t envy Gloria’s position of being hated for being said cog in the corporate machine. Her job focused on relaying the demands from the top. Gloria was forever the bad guy to staff whenever they noticed her no-nonsense demeanor coming towards them. It was hard to be sympathetic to her plight when she followed you around like a bloodhound. The woman was relentless.

“The board would like to see if applying additional support down in the emergency department would help alleviate time issues that are keeping patient satisfaction at a tremendous low.” 

Absolutely not. 

You would rather chew your arm off than be sent down there. Your retreat came to a halt as you turned to face her. There weren't too many places inside the hospital you could go, and you were willing to bet Gloria was willing to follow you anywhere until you conceded. Plus, you came to a full stop in front of the elevator, and no matter how much you’d like to magically teleport yourself inside of it, unfortunately, you were mortal and would just have to wait.

Gloria’s hands were interlocked in front of her middle - eyes drilling miniature holes in you that not that long ago used to make you squirm. That was back when you were just starting your internship - eager back then to make a great first impression. Terrified of being reprimanded for making an unpopular decision or speaking your mind. 

“Gloria, I’m in family medicine.”

“Last time I checked you started in the emergency department and helped out in intensive care.”

“Yes, great memory, Gloria. If you also recall, I moved to family medicine where I’ve been for the last couple of years.”

The transfer to family medicine was a hard pill to swallow. You’d grown accustomed to the craziness of the ER. The constant adrenaline rush that required you to always bring your A game. Where the anxiety was at an all-time maxed-out high where a simple mistake cost lives but a quick deduction could save them. Once you’d moved upstairs to help out Dr. Nave’s family practice, it’d been a huge adjustment. Eventually, once your body got used to the monotony of the days, you found you were finally able to sleep. To be semi-normal. 

There was no denying, however, that you left something important behind in The Pitt. Something you hoped you could leave there inside its sterile rooms and the overwhelming storm of emotions.  

“I’m not asking you to go back down there to answer every trauma call. I’m asking you to take your family medicine knowledge downstairs to help assess triage for minor issues -“

“You mean people who come in for chest colds,” you interrupted. 

“ - and help the senior doctors clear out these cases so they can focus on more immediate health care concerns.”

Gloria’s words crushed your small outburst and bore down on your shoulders, keeping you from trying to move away. Her hands were now connected at her elbows, which was her silent way of informing you she didn’t appreciate you trying to talk over her. That no would never be an acceptable answer. 

You felt the drag of your teeth against your cheek. The temptation to bite down to relieve your growing irritation was overwhelming but futile. No matter what argument you came up with, you knew Gloria was here to make sure what the board requested was done. 

Instead of bloodshed, you eased your frustration out inch by inch through your nose. Your eyes scanned over the shitty egg wash walls while you debated all of your available options, which were a big fat none. 

“How long?”

Gloria didn’t need clarification on what you were asking. The way she practically preened like a peacock let you know she knew she’d won. 

“As long as the board requires it.”

“I’ll do it just for today,” you interjected, ignoring her raised brow. “Today you can see if pulling me from Nave’s floor makes your charts or numbers move or whatever data it is you all look at. If it does nothing, today is my first and last day going down.”

Gloria considered your counterargument. The sharpness in her eyes brightened; the terms of this new agreement were revised without you knowing the new verbiage. The only thing you were sure of was that you could count on this small verbal agreement being drawn out in document form for you to sign later.  

“Alright, Dr. Fullerton. You’ve got a deal. I’m sure the board will agree. Now come on. If we walk down fast enough maybe, you’ll make it in time for shift change.”

She didn’t wait to see if you were going to follow. Why would she when Gloria knew very well you weren’t going to fight it, especially when the main reason for your denial currently wouldn’t be working today. 

Anniversaries were never really Robby’s thing.

You would never admit it, but your anxiety was fifteen feet away from grabbing you in a chokehold. 

Get a fucking grip.

It had been two years since you left the ER. Two years since Robby and you had called time on seven years together. Seven years of memories filled with all the good and bad, co-parenting Jake, and keeping your relationship secret until it wasn’t. The early years of walking to work together with quick kisses goodbye before you split up just before you turned onto the final street to the hospital. The both of you choose different entrances each time to try and not raise suspicion. 

It took Dana four days to figure out the two of you were together.

Dana was perceptive like that. Hell, she’d been the angel on your shoulder whispering hints that Robby just might like you as much as you liked him. 

“I told him to ask you out to dinner. He thinks you’ll say no.” “If he did ask, I should say no,” you countered.  Your eyes struggle to stay trained on the chart in front of you.  “Yeah, but I know you’ll say yes.” “And what makes you so sure about that, Dana?” “Because if you don’t stop giving each other googly eyes from across my nursing station I’m going to throttle you both.”

Robby had only been divorced from his wife for less than a year. You’d overheard snippets of conversations between Robby and Abbot, Dana, or Adamson about custody battles and visitations. The last thing you wanted to do was be a possible added stress to an already stressful situation. At least, that was the bullshit you kept telling yourself to try and stay away.

But Dana was right (she usually was, but you’d never tell her that). 

You couldn’t pinpoint a specific time when things started to change between the two of you. The coffee breaks on the roof looking out over the top of Pittsburgh Trauma Medical Center. The jokes that caused smiles to crest over his face, rivaled the glow from the sun's early morning rays. He told you later, in the med closet, how the sound of your laughter was something he looked forward to hearing; the warmth of it was enough to keep helping him make it through his shift. A sound he began to crave in the quiet corners of his home. You could still remember the phone calls and early texts. The caution and heavy breaths that harbored a desire that longed to reach out and consume the other. The two of you were equally afraid to be the one to take that first step over the bounds of professionalism. 

The two of you knew the dangers of playing with lingering touches and knowing glances. The way you both acted like you wouldn’t ultimately end up burned. You could still recall the way he’d traced his thumb across your lips. The possessive way his eyes followed the motion made the desire for him to close that space, to claim you, to take you, threatened to make you lose all self-control.

Eventually, you stopped listening to the warning signs of all the what ifs; of being the intern and worrying about how it would make you look. When Robby asked you out on that date you didn’t hesitate to say yes.

You didn’t think it was possible to fall in love with someone the way you did with Robby. He was so attentive; he was thoughtful in the most pragmatic ways - packing extra scrubs in your pack. Teaching you how to fish and the differences between the lures and bait. The way he took the time to explain the objects he carved from wood and how much pressure was necessary to create the grooves and pattern. The way his voice would sound as he read to you; the soothing vibrations of his baritone the safest place you could be with his fingers in your hair.

He carved out a life that made it possible for all three of you to co-exist. His son, Jake, becomes the deepest interwoven part of your life you never realized was missing. On days Robby had him, you planned camping trips up in the mountains to hike and fish. To go on museum trips into Jake’s latest hobbies with the two of you making sure to have his game day off to cheer embarrassingly loud for him in the stands. The shared looks of pain from beside each other on the couch while Jake practiced his clarinet upstairs when he thought he wanted to be in the school band. You got lost in furniture manuals, cooking dinners that ended a few times with questionable outcomes, and attempting to bake tarts and pies that led to a one-time usage of the fire extinguisher. The euphoria of loving someone and being loved so fiercely in return made the years feel weightless, and when Robby finally proposed it made so much sense to say yes. 

And COVID happened. 

The quarantine and the endless amounts of patients that just kept coming - that felt like, no matter what you did, they couldn’t be saved. Family and friends, you both knew were ravaged by the infection. There were no answers. No medical treatments that you knew for sure would be what would save them. It didn’t discriminate and took lives without mercy. You just came to work every day, exhausted, and fighting to do what you could to heal those you could. You showed up every day for your patients.

Then Adamson passed. 

There was no denying Robby blamed himself for what occurred with his mentor. It didn’t matter what you said. What Dana, Abbot, or anyone else said. The guilt weighed down on his conscience, pressed so violently, that eventually, Robby cracked under the strain. His grief was all-encompassing and the added loss that should’ve been experienced together, was left for only you to bear - widening the gap between you until it became a chasm. 

The last time you’d seen Robby he’d been leaving to go to work. The latest fight - the endless bitter silences that stretched on - tore at the fabric of your being. Fractured pieces you didn’t know how to pick up on your own no longer felt worth fighting for. So, you decided to remove yourself from the equation. 

When Robby came home from work that night you were already gone. Your engagement ring and house key sitting on a note that asked him not to contact you. He’d made it clear enough that there was no place for you in the new person that he was becoming - made it clear that your grief would be processed alone. 

And so that was how you ended up transferring to family medicine. How you made sure to steer clear of all the places Robby was known to frequent. You ignored, as politely as you could, texts from Dana. Refused to talk about him in a work capacity or to close friends. 

The truth was that you were still in love with Robby after all this time. The idea that someone else could ever make you feel as whole - as complete - didn’t exist. So, yes, you only agreed to come back down to the emergency department, where it all started, because you comfortably knew he wouldn’t be here. Dana, you could deal with her by using a little recon - you just needed to stay two steps ahead of her. Langdon was easier to deal with because his loyalty to Robby was absolute, which made you public enemy number one. For you, that meant he’d stay away from you on principle. 

You were in the middle of shoving down the growing dread that was threatening to spill out of you when you came around the north hall triage. It was morning rounds. It was the attending's job to give the early morning pep-talk, debrief about patients who came in last shift, and go over the board. What you found waiting for you was what looked very much like a fresh batch of interns and/or med students taking instructions from a doctor you knew painfully well. One that made you question if it was too late to back out and turn tail and run. 

“Oh, shit.” Dana huffed the words under her breath, but Robby caught them. The way each one dripped in a warning he should’ve heeded. “Gloria -” 

It didn’t surprise him to hear she was here. He’d been warned by Dana but what Robby hadn’t expected was to see you - you - standing beside her. 

You who he thought completely disappeared to the point you’d quit the hospital. You, who he thought of in the most inconvenient of times, who haunted him, and you who he wanted to fucking scream and curse at you but also ask how the fuck you’re doing because Jesus Christ…

He didn’t need this shit today.

At least you had the decency to look as uncomfortable as he felt.

“Good morning, Dr. Robby. I’m aware you and most of your emergency department know Dr. Fullerton. She used to work down here previously a few years back.”

“You could say that again,” Langdon muttered.

“I’m sorry why are you bringing a random fucking doctor down into The Pitt?”

The annoyance contrasted with the peaceful professionalism Gloria tried to hold together. But if she was going to bring random doctors down here, God, bring you fucking down here, he was damn sure going to make her work for it. Inch by irritating inch.

“We both know that Dr. Fullerton is not a hospital resident or an attending transfer. As previously stated, she worked down here in this very ED, with you no less. She also holds one of the highest Press Ganey scores in this hospital.”

“I’m sure she’s very proud,” his words ground out like he’d swallowed gravel.

Gloria shot him a warning look as she continued, “-Something I figure she could teach the new students and old physicians here. I’m bringing her down to assist Dr. McKay today in triage.”

“Let me guess - this either has to deal with the hospital's numbers or lack of working bodies down here. Am I right?”

“What a fantastic guess, Robby. It does indeed have to do with the hospitals' numbers and poor patient output. Based on those numbers alone today, if it shows Dr. Fullerton’s presence helps patient satisfaction go up and wait times decrease - even in the slightest - she’ll be staying here. Permanently.”

His jaw ticked violently. He wanted to bristle and tell her where to stick her metrics and numbers. To tell Gloria to get you the fuck out of his Pitt. Somewhere in his brain, his common sense slowly won out. It didn’t matter how much of a fit he threw; Gloria had every intention of making you stay. Down here. With him. 

Robby also knew, realistically, that the chances of you driving up productivity were high. You were a damn good doctor. One of the best. Adamson had made sure. Christ, Robby himself made sure. Fuck. The edges of his vision were beginning to tighten in glaring white; he needed to get away before he succumbed to a panic attack. 

He should’ve kept looking away, but he was fighting a losing battle trying to keep his eyes away from you. It’d been nearly two years since he came home to find you gone. Two years for him to think of the hundreds of thousands of questions that he would demand for you to answer if he ever saw you again. All those months of burying it all down, telling himself he got what he wanted, only for it to be dredged up, and on a day like today, he was already close to his breaking point.

You looked good. Great, even. Just as gorgeous as the first day he’d met you and begrudgingly, for a split second, he wondered how you saw him. If you were equally as fucked as he was.

“Make sure she stays with you up in triage, Dr. McKay. I don’t want to see her in my red zone.”

He didn’t wait to hear confirmation from Gloria or McKay. He didn’t bother to see if you understood he meant every word he said. You had no place down here. Robby needed to start his shift - to start the normalcy of seeing patients - before he completely forgot why he chose to come into work today. 

He needed to get away before all his resolve shattered. The easiest way to keep himself whole was to begin his day. To do his rounds and when he passed you, he did his best to pretend you didn’t even exist.

___________

Thank you so much for taking the time to read this and I hope you enjoyed it! Reblogs and comments are always appreciated! Much love.

[impala666]

Mrs. R Part Three

Part Two

Notes: Not beta-read.

Warnings: This...Got a lot more angsty than I meant it to. Whoops.

Summary: Robby had sent a 💡 text two days ago—his new shorthand to ask if he could come over. You'd declined, cited previous plans, and proposed tonight instead.

So here he is, and there you are with your head full of muddled feelings and unasked questions.

"I don't know what changed, and I don't know how you did it, but he seems better."

You want to tell her that it isn't you—that you haven't seen Robby since you went to the ER, that whatever's changed about him, you had nothing to do with it—but that would be a bold-faced lie.

Though, at moments, you don't think that you have had much to do with the shift in his mood. But over the last few weeks, he's seemed a little lighter. It's been noticeable to you.

And, apparently, it's been noticeable to Dana.

She wouldn't accept the lie, anyway—you can see that in the way she grins at you over her pint of beer, daring you to disagree.

So you just shrug and offer, "Sometimes he just needs someone to talk to—outside of work, you know."

"So he is telling you about work?"

"God no, I don't think he'd ever..." You trail off, mind dipping dangerously into the past. He used to. A long time ago, he'd come home with tired but warm smiles, with a funny story from his shift on the tip of his tongue, chasing the kisses that he showered you with the second he was in the door. But the pandemic, Adamson, the dwindling staff, the slammed ER, the administration, the occasional rat—it's a constant, Sisyphean uphill push for all of them.

You clear your throat, shaking your head. "I mean, sometimes he needs to talk about something that isn't that. I used to think talking about work when he was home would help him process it, but maybe he needs a bubble to shut that part of his mind off. I don't know, it's weird," Your brow furrows. "I feel like I understand him so much more now that we aren't married."

"Speaking of which."

"Mm?"

"What's with the name?"

You take a long sip, biding as much time as you can as heat rushes your face.

"Name?" You do your best to play dumb, but Dana's laugh tells you that she isn't buying it for a damn second.

"Yeah, Mrs. Robinavitch, the name."

You let your eyes scan the bustling bar around you, unable to take the knowing way that Dana watches you.

"You don't have to call me that, you know."

"Oh yeah? What should I call you?"

"Gee, I don't know Dana," You lean into it. "Maybe my first name?"

"Doesn't make you squirm like your last name does. Come on," She chuckles again, "It's been almost a year. What gives?"

You consider, eyeing the chipped wood grain of the table.

"Honestly?"

"Uh-huh."

"Cone of silence?"

"Cross my heart."

"...I can't..." You struggle for the words as your feelings flood into your chest, making each breath feel heavy. Your sweating palms flex, nails pressing into your skin, prickling the still-raised scar on your dominant hand.

"It just feels like giving up on us. On him. And I know that sounds so stupid, we're divorced, but letting go of his name feels like letting go, really letting go of all of it, all of the good stuff, and lately things feel..." You shake your head, squeezing your eyes shut against the embarrassment. "It's like the door isn't completely closed. Like he's opening up to me again, and if I change it now, it's like I'll—Jinx it? Or—?" You groan, tipping your head back and scrubbing at your eyes with the heels of your palms. "What the fuck is wrong with me?"

Dana doesn't answer, and when you finally get a good look at her again, you just find a warm, soft smile there.

"Oh, sweetie," She shakes her head. "There's nothing wrong with hope."

You bite the inside of your cheek to try and push back the swell of tears that threaten to spill over.

"Goddamnit," You laugh shakily. "How much would I have to pay you to quit the hospital and just run my life full-time?"

"You couldn't afford me."

--

"You're quiet."

It isn't accusatory, you don't think, but it's paired with a speculative little glance across the kitchen able that makes you want to fold into yourself and disappear.

"Just following your example." You manage to make it a tease, and when Robby's lips tip up in a small smile, you feel the relief of knowing that you hit the mark. He huffs a soft laugh, shaking his head and turning back to his food.

You should've sorted this morose shit out before he turned up. You'd known that he was planning on stopping by.

He'd sent a 💡 text two days ago—his new shorthand to ask if he could come over. You'd declined, cited previous plans, and proposed tonight instead.

So here he is, and there you are with your head full of muddled feelings and unasked questions.

You haven't been able to stop thinking about your conversation with Dana. The fact that you let your truth hit the air for the first time since the divorce, to admit not only to yourself but to someone else that you're hopeful that your relationship with Michael could still change—that you're still holding on to the likely misguided belief that one of you or both of you will come back together with the understanding that this whole divorce was one big, stupid, expensive mistake—

"What'd you get up to the other night?"

"Hmm?"

"When I wanted to come by."

You shrug, reach over and pluck a fry up off of his plate. "Just some stuff."

"What kind of stuff?"

"Well clearly nothing that landed me back in the ER."

"That leaves a lot of possibilities."

You pop the fry into your mouth, take your time chewing, and raise your brows when he dips his head a touch, catching and holding your gaze.

"Come on," He plies, "Gimme a hint."

"Why does it matter?"

"Doesn't."

"Why do you care?"

"...I don't."

And you may've bought that—if he hadn't hesitated. Your eyes narrow a touch, a playful smile pulling at your lips.

"Well what do you think I was doing, Dr. Robinavitch?"

"Any number of things, Mrs. Robinavitch."

And you know that he doesn't mean to break it, this light and delicious mood, but goddamn did he pop your balloon. The words make your stomach lurch. You hurriedly push yourself up from the table, avoiding his eye and rounding to the fridge.

"You want another beer?" You ask, and force yourself to keep your eyes on the fridge's contents when he doesn't answer right away.

"Haven't finished my first one," He finally says, and you nod a bit, pulling one out for yourself and cracking it open. You lean against the counter, toying with the pull tab.

"You have a date?"

It feels almost like a trap of a question, and you know that you'd be wise to answer quickly, but his tease is still ringing through your ears.

"You can tell me if you did," He tacks on, "Not like we're—"

"No, I know."

"So—?"

"Why would you think that?"

"Why not? You're single, you're gorgeous—"

"Okay—"

"—More skilled at evading questions than an ex-KGB agent."

"CIA, please."

"It'd be fine if you were. You're free to do whatever you want."

You don't think that he's trying to twist the knife, don't believe that he even realizes he's holding it, but the fact of the matter is what you want is this, right here—in the kitchen with him, but having almost any other conversation.

"Thanks for the permission."

"Just making sure you don't think you need it, considering you still have my name."

He still thinks you're both joking, that's the problem. And maybe you should be joking, but Mrs. Robinavitch. Goddamn, when's the last time he called you that? Must've been your last anniversary—or the one before—?

"Hey." His hands cupping your cheeks takes you aback, and you draw in a deep, stunned breath. When did he get up? "What's going on up there?"

You shake your head, avoiding his eye as you take a deep draw from the beer can. He plucks it out of your hand once you lower it, setting it onto the counter beside you. You curl your arms around yourself, trying to ignore the fact that you're pouting like a petulant child.

"It wasn't a date," You finally offer.

"Okay. It wouldn't matter if it was."

Maybe that's half the problem. You want him it to matter, but to him it just—doesn't. Unless he's bluffing.

Since the two of you started...Whatever the hell this is, you've laid your cards on the table, in some measure. You told Michael that you wouldn't be okay if he wasn't okay. But you're starting to worry that Michael doesn't have any cards to lay on the table. You thought this was high-stakes poker, but it's starting to feel a helluva lot like solitaire.

But if he didn't care, then why change your light bulb? Why kiss you the way he did? He'd fallen asleep on your couch, back in your bed, he remembered where your mugs were—

But maybe you're not the safe space for him—maybe it's your apartment. Maybe you're just its custodian.

You raise a hand to scrub at your rapidly heating face, fighting back pinpricks of tears as you clench your jaw.

"Headache," You insist before he can pry, and it's not entirely lie. This is beginning to make your head spin.

"You should take something."

"I'm alright." You slap on a thin, unconvincing smile and nod back toward the table. "Your food's gonna get cold."

--

"You sure you're okay?"

You don't even grace that one with a response, just smile and insist:

"Let me know when you get home."

You can see him pushing down another prying question as he straightens his hoodie and takes up his backpack. He gives a small nod and leans in, dropping a kiss to your forehead.

"Drink some water, take something before you go to bed. You don't wanna wake up with it."

"Good night of sleep will clear it." As if you'll be able to sleep tonight.

"Maybe." He reaches out, gently chucking under your chin. "Seriously, don't wait for it to get worse."

"I won't! Crying out loud."

He grunts, turns to the door and opens it.

"Oh, and for the record," He adds, smiling widely at you over his shoulder. "Dana said she had a good time."

You manage to keep your smile frozen in place, and nod. You hold it until he's shut the door and you've locked it behind him. You rest your forehead against the cool wood, drawing a deep breath in through your nose and pushing it out between your lips. You draw in another, and as you push it out, the tears come.

If he'd known what you'd been up to the other night why put you through that song and dance? Just to see what you'd say? If you'd lie?

Your face twists as the tears flow faster, sorrow and anger and nerves twining together as you plop down onto your couch and let the sobs come freely.

If there's nothing wrong with hope, then why the hell does it hurt so much?

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