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theonewiththefanfics · 2 months ago

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An Itch You Can't Scratch (one-shot)

Synopsis: After taking a bad fall, Y/N gets rushed to the ED of Pittsburg Trauma Medical Hospital only to come face to face with a man she had a one-night stand with, and who ghosted her that same morning without a word - Dr. Michael "Robby" Robinavitch. As if her bad day couldn't get any worse than it was...

Pairing: Dr. Michael "Robby" Robinavitch x fem!Reader (age-gap relationship (Reader is 26, Robby is implied 46-48))

Genre: angst, fluff, SMUT

Warnings: descriptions of wounds (open breaks), puke, swearing, etc., SMUT

Word count: 13,319 (yeah, this sort of started out like a cute little chaotic story and became... this. I might make more parts to these two, people like it enough, because I already have some ideas, and ideas for other stories too also, let's please pretend like Robby didn't have the worst shift of his life and everyone is happy and alive :) )

Please don't copy my work or repost it onto other platforms. all of the characters belong to HBO Max.

Catch Pt 2 here :)

In all honesty, Y/N thought Sara was overreacting. There was no need to be hauled to the ER on a Monday morning, at seven AM. So, what if she’d slipped in the shower? So, what if she’d hit her head against the towel rack? So, what if she’d sprained her ankle? Y/N could just pop a couple of Tylenol and be on her merry way, but no.

When Sara had heard the thud and the subsequent crash of shampoo and conditioner bottles, she’d rushed inside the bathroom only to find Y/N sprawled out in all her naked glory. She cursed the stupid bathroom latch their landlord refused to change.

After Sara had had her fill of laughter, she helped Y/N stand, get somewhat dressed (a loose cotton shirt and some shorts), and helped her hobble down the stairs of their apartment, her leg in a make-shift splint of dishtowels and left-over wood paneling from an IKEA dresser.

A groan of protest escaped her as Sara parked in the hospital parking lot and rushed to the passenger door, opening it for Y/N and helping her get out.

“You are worse than my mother,” she huffed as she leaned her weight onto her good leg. “I am completely fine.”

Sara sighed, and Y/N rolled her eyes, knowing what was coming. “My love,” she said. “My other half. The Yin to my Yang, the milk to my matcha. My partner in crime for whom I would kill and/or dispose of a body. I can quite literally see the fucking bone sticking out of your lower leg.”

“It’s a sprain,” Y/N gritted through clenched teeth.

“It’s an open fucking break and the fact that you refused to have an ambulance called, boggles my fucking mind, yet here we are.”

To that, Y/N had nothing to say, but still, she thought Sara was being way too overdramatic. And honestly, if she kept mentioning the real situation of her sprain, making her remember the sound of the snap, how it had been the worst sound she’d ever heard, and Y/N had spent more than twenty years listening to her brother singing in the shower, before she moved to Pittsburg for her job, she would put Sara in a hospital bed herself. And then they could be the ED besties.

But the worst was the pain that came when Sara reminded Y/N of why she had to go to the hospital.

It had been a miracle no neighbor had called the cops or the EMTs themselves, though it didn’t necessarily comfort Y/N either. If she could scream bloody murder like that and nobody batted an eye, it didn’t say anything good about the complex they lived in.

One look down had confirmed Y/N’s worst fears – she had, in fact, broken her leg. Not only that, it was an open break where part of her bone was sticking right out of the meat of her calf. For the first few moments, she’d been in such a shock, that the only thought running through her head was – I look like a poor man’s version of a Disney turkey leg. Then she’d started screaming. And that had made her puke.

Right then and there, still lying half out of the shower, half on the floor, she’d emptied her stomach. There hadn’t been much in it, just the cup of water she’d drank when she’d awoken, but still. At least Y/N had been in the bathroom when it had happened. Tiles were easier to clean up than carpet, and she already felt bad enough Sara would have to wash the floor.

But now, as some form of punishment, no doubt, Sara was helping Y/N hobble towards the emergency department of Pittsburg Trauma Medical Hospital, when a sad-looking man noticed them and rushed inside, grabbing a wheelchair, and getting by Y/N’s side in a matter of a second.

“Here, sit down.” The man, Dennis Whitaker he introduced himself, took hold of her other bicep and moved the wheelchair behind her.

“I’m fine,” she groaned. “I’m not an invalid. I can make it inside on my own. Besides, that wheelchair could be used for someone that actually needs it.”

“You actually need it.” Sara levelled a gaze at her. “And I will make you a fucking invalid because I will clock you so hard in the head, you will have a concussion, if you don’t have one from the fall.”

For a tense second, Y/N stood (or wobbled) her ground, Y/E/C eyes locked onto Sara’s hazel ones which were slowly narrowing with each passing moment until she cursed and said, “Alright fine.” Together Whitaker and Sara lowered the injured woman into the wheelchair. “God, I hate your mom-stares.”

“It’s the only way to get you to do anything in terms of taking care of yourself.”

“It’s not!” Y/N protested. “I’ll have you know, I made myself an omelet yesterday for breakfast. Veggies and all.”

“Yeah, after I berated you that a stale Coke from three days ago, isn’t actual breakfast.” Sara walked side by side as Whitaker pushed the wheelchair into the madhouse that was the emergency department.

It was fascinating to observe the situation as an outsider – nurses and doctors were like level-headed owls, their heads swiveling this way and that way, as they assessed the patients and their statuses, while the residents and patients themselves, not all, but quite a bunch, were like headless chickens, rushing around and trying to prioritize afflictions or become a priority to the doctors.

Codes were called left and right, people moved from one side to the other, snapping on gloves and donning protective gear, and in the center of it all, was the command post – the nurse’s station which Whitaker had wheeled her to.

“Dana, is there a room available?” he addressed a slim, blonde woman, probably the one in charge.

“Room six is available, what’s the, oh,” she stopped mid-sentence as she noticed Y/N and the bone sticking out of her leg.

“I don’t mind waiting,” she gave her a sheepish smile. “There’s probably loads of people before me. Besides, it’s just a sprain.”

“Well, that’s probably one of the worst sprains I’ve ever seen,” Dana deadpanned as she motioned with her head towards someone behind them.

Y/N shrugged. “Well, I am just special like that.”

“Yeah, maybe in the head,” Sara grumbled as she gave the charge nurse all the necessary info for the moment. “Speaking of which – she also hit her head when she went down with her… sprain.”

Dana’s lips quirked up as she hummed and tapped something on her iPad, weaving around the table, leaving Whitaker to follow her like a lost puppy as they moved to the room Y/N was now assigned to. “We’ll schedule you a CT ASAP.”

Y/N turned her head to look at her best friend. “Given how this little trip was your idea, you’re paying off my medical debt.”

“Just let these nice doctors and nurses take care of you.” Sara pinched the bridge of her nose. “Because quite honestly, I’m not too into the idea of searching for a new roommate. Do you know how many creeps I’d have to go through? And what if the one normal one I find has a fatal flaw?”

“Such as?”

“I dunno. What if they hate musicals?”

“Oh, the tragedy.” Y/N pressed a hand against her chest as they wheeled her inside the room.

There was another presence there, a young doctor, probably late twenties or early thirties. A cute little dimple on his chin, dark hair, and blue eyes. Reminded her a bit of the guy from Air Bud, if she squinted a bit.

“My name’s Dr. Langdon,” he introduced himself, giving Y/N a reassuring smile. “And this is Dennis Whitaker, our fourth-year medical student. Would it be alright, if he and another one of our residents observed the situation today? This is a teaching hospital, but it is well within your rights to refuse.”

She shook her head. “Observe away. Not much I can hide.”

“Alright, thank you.” He ventured out for a quick second only to come back with a young woman who introduced herself as Dr. Mel King, a second-year resident. “Okay,” Dr. Langdon said. “Let’s get you onto the bed and see what we’re working with.”

The three medical professionals surrounded her and helped Y/N move from the wheelchair on the paper-covered bed, without jostling her leg too much, but it was enough.

So far, she’d been able to take her mind off the pain by distracting herself – she bickered with Sara, recited the script of The Hunger Games movie in her head while fantasising about a blond Josh Hutcherson, because Peeta was just elite like that. She’d even gone so far as to go over the division table, but now, as more attention was being placed on the broken leg, it started to hurt more and more. It was like Y/N mind-over-mattered an itching spot left by a mosquito by chanting “It’s not itchy” over and over in her head, but the second she stopped, the itching came back in full force.

“So,” Dr. Dimple, she nicknamed him in her head, started. “What happened?”

Y/N sighed, looking at the ceiling. “Can I just give you the not-humiliating version and say I’m a klutz?”

He gave her a charming smile as a nurse prepped an IV line. “Unfortunately, we need to know beyond “clumsy”. The environment where this accident happened is important.”

"It could introduce pathogens into the wound," Mel, as Dr. King had requested to be called, said.

Y/N chewed on her bottom lip before muttering, “I slipped in the shower and sprained my leg. And then got assaulted by some shampoo and conditioner bottles… and then I threw up.”

“And don’t forget the head!” Sara said from the door where she still stood, observing the work happening.

Y/N threw her a knowing smirk. “Never do. And I haven’t had any complaints yet.”

“The throwing up could indicate a concussion,” Whitaker said. “Dana’s already scheduled a CT. And in terms of the leg, you actually have an open fra-,”

Y/N took hold of Whitaker’s bicep like he’d done so for her when he’d helped wheel her inside the emergency department. “Please listen to me when I say this – unless you want me to hurl all over you, and trust me, I can aim, the only thing I have, is a sprain. Got it?”

He gulped and nodded, stepping away from Y/N like a man who’d gotten sprayed by too many fluids in one day and didn’t want to be anywhere near the danger zone. “Loud and clear Miss Sprained-Ankle-Woman.”

“Good.” The nausea that’d started creeping up her belly subsided. “Because I can deal with you people having to do things, but if I have to actually listen to any of it, or think about it, I will be sick.”

“We can give you some anti-nausea medication for that,” Dr. Dimple soothed. “But first, we’ll get you a CT, and then we’ll have a surgery room prepped for you because you need to get this reset as quickly as possible. You will probably have some metal plates and screws to hold the uh… sprain together, and then a cast for about six to eight weeks.”

“Great,” Y/N grumbled. “This is just fucking great. This is exactly how I wanted to spend my vacation, before, oh… oh, absolutely not.” Y/N’s eyes widened to a comically large size as she looked past her room and into the waiting area. “Sara, you need to get me out of here right the fuck now.”

“Hey, woah, what is going on?” Dr. Langdon rushed to where Y/N was trying to get the IV line out. “Please don't do that, you'll only hurt yourself more.”

“Y/N, what’s going on?” Sara’s brows were pulled tight in a frown, as she tried to help Dr. King get the oxygen monitor back onto her finger. “You need surgery, for fuck’s sake.”

“It’s him,” she hissed, not taking her gaze away from where it’d locked on. “And I don’t want to spend a second anywhere near the dick.”

“Who?” Sara swiveled her head to look beyond the glass separating them from the chaos beyond. “Who’s the dick?”

“Him.”

And then four pairs of eyes locked onto the man standing and talking with the charge nurse at The Hub, Y/N was glaring at.

“Do – do you two know each other?” Dr. Dimple asked. “Do you feel unsafe with him around?”

“Yeah, you could say we know one another,” she scowled and crossed her arms as Mel managed to finally reattach the oxygen monitor, all of their attention onto her. “That’s the dude I hooked up with two weeks ago, and completely ghosted me that same morning.”

Every single head snapped to look back at Dr. Michael “Robby” Robinavitch, who’d also finally noticed Y/N was at his workplace, as a patient no less. His eyebrows were right up to his hairline, brown eyes wide with disbelief and mouth agape as she glowered at the older man.

It was quite a surreal moment – all of these capable doctors and residents and nurses, stunned by the information so bad, that they almost seemed to forget Y/N was there. She wondered what was going through their heads, as this seemed like it wasn’t a regular occurrence. Which stung even more – if Michael had been a fuckboy, she could take it, but it didn’t seem so. So, what was wrong with Y/N that had made him run away after the night they’d spent together?

When they’d met at the bar, he had told her he was an emergency department attending. The big boss of his little duckling residents, dutifully running the hospital department with the help of the nurses.

Why, when Sara had finally managed to get Y/N inside the car, it hadn’t occurred to her, he would work in this particular hospital. Just why?

Y/N couldn’t say. Maybe she’d hoped he worked the night shifts. Maybe she’d hoped, he worked somewhere else, or even out of town, but, of course, for whatever sins she’d committed, karma couldn’t do her a solid one.

Sara gasped, rushing by her side as Y/N watched Michael flounder and try and decide what to do – whether to interfere and face the music or run away from the hospital. He apparently chose the latter as he twisted on his heel and high-tailed it to the other end of the department, leaving a cackling Dana behind.

“That’s him?” Sara strained her neck. “That’s the hot doctor?”

Y/N scoffed. “The one and only. Couldn’t even leave a fucking note or something. Like I can take a hint a one-night-stand is a one-night-stand, alright? But don’t just fucking bolt out of the door like your ass is on fire before the other party wakes up. Fucking dickhead.”

“Well, maybe it wasn’t as fun of a night for him, as you thought, and he didn’t want to hurt your feelings.” Sara raised a brow.

“Oh, trust me,” Y/N smirked. “It was a very fun night for him. I would know. I was there, and you can’t fake the kind of shaking. Four hours will do that to a guy,” she winked and touched the tips of her pointer finger and thumb in an A-Okay sign.

“Yeah,” it was Dr. Dimple smiling at her, the grin on his face almost wolfish in nature. “Yeah, you are absolutely my new favorite person in the world.”

However, whatever he wanted to say or ask, was cut short when Dana returned to inform that her CT slot was coming up, and so Y/N was wheeled away, not daring to look at Michael as they passed one another in the hallway.

As the results came back for a minor concussion, the anesthesiologist informed, that they recommended a spinal for the surgery, while the team prepper, but Y/N shot it down immediately.

“Absolutely not. Look, I know it’s not safe to go to sleep after a concussion, but I will not be listening to the sounds of some bone-carpenter crunching on my leg. Put me under,” she gave him her most pathetic look. “Please.”

The specialist still tried to argue, but he couldn’t do it much longer, as Y/N needed surgery as soon as possible, so after five minutes of strongly recommending the spinal, he relented and in half an hour, Y/N had managed to get hers – she was out like a light, without a sound in her ears.

It was the best sleep she’d ever had in her life. Like floating on a cloud, surrounded by doves and angels singing her lullabies. She never wanted to wake up, but something was rousing her out of the blissful state.

A large warm hand around her palm, thumb rubbing the top of it, was soothing her senses. It was like hot chocolate after being out in the sow. Or sitting by a fireplace with a blanket wrapped around your shoulders.

“Good afternoon, Miss Sprained-Ankle,” a low, rumbly voice greeted Y/N as she floated back into consciousness. Her eyes locked onto two gentle, brown ones, and despite the medication, she knew she wasn’t hallucinating him.

Michael’s face was beard-covered like it had been when they’d met. He still had the same worry lines on his forehead and the crow’s feet around his eyes. Y/N had said she liked those the best.

“It shows you’ve smiled and laughed despite everything else,” she’d informed him over the rim of her Pornstar Martini.

She couldn’t truly imagine just how draining his line of work was, both physically and mentally, but the laugh lines she could see hiding under the beard, harmonizing with those around his eyes, was a feature Y/N had noticed first.

“So,” she slurred her tongue a swollen mass of sandpaper in her mouth, and Michael noticed that, holding a cup of water against her lips until she’d had her fill. “Do I have to keep breaking bones to wake up with you next to me?”

“I hope not.” With gentleness Y/N knew he possessed, yet didn’t expect, he brushed away a droplet that’d slipped past her mouth, and onto her cheek. “I hope this is the only time I ever have to see you in such a state.”

“Can’t promise that,” she shook her head. “I do have a reputation to uphold.”

“Yeah?” amusement was evident on his weary face. “And what kind of reputation is that?”

“When I was in first grade, on the first day of school, I broke my arm. And then like a few months later, I smashed my face against a radiator and split my lip open. Still have a scar,” she pointed right below her right nostril where a sliver of lighter skin was. “And then, but that was like third grade or something, I smashed my head against a metal railing and split my head open. I could even push my fingers inside and scrape my -,”

“Okay, I understand,” Michael interrupted her and pulled the hand that was tapping against the hairline on her forehead. “You are an ED connoisseur, but please, don’t make this a habit.”

“Damn, straight I am.” Y/N gave a confident nod, but before Michael could ask anything else, she said, “You know what I don’t get? Like why did my leg bone hurt while sticking out of my body, but my teeth that are sticking out right now, don’t?” She clacked them for emphasis. “They’re outside bones.”

A soft smile bloomed on Michael’s face as he brushed a strand of hair away from her forehead. She could feel someone had put her hair in a protective style and had to wonder if it had been the man beside her. But that wouldn’t make any sense. Why would he care like that for her?

“For one,” he muttered. “You broke your fibula – the smaller bone in your lower leg, and in doing so, hurt the surrounding things like muscles and skin. That is one reason why you felt such pain. And two – if you broke a tooth, it would hurt too. Your cavities hurt, don’t they?”

“Mmm,” a self-satisfied smile bloomed on Y/N’s face. “I wouldn’t know. I’ve never had a cavity.”

“That’s good. Dentists aren’t cheap.” As a response she just clacked her teeth again, making Michael laugh. “How are you feeling? Any pain? Nausea?”

“Nope, I am A-Okay. Honestly, that was like the best sleep of my life. Well…” Y/N pouted, taking her gaze away from Michael’s. “That night when I fell asleep with you is also up in the Top 5, but then I woke up and… you know… you weren’t there.”

She was obviously delirious from the medication being pumped through her veins, but much like when Y/N was drunk, she was a throw-up-remember-everything kind of a girl, instead of a black-out-drunk. Besides, it wasn’t like she could run anywhere. Quite literally.

Michael sighed, dragging a hand down his face, visibly cringing at her words. “About that… I – yeah, I think the only thing I can say is I’m sorry. For, you know, ghosting, as you youngsters say.”

“ ‘S alright.” Y/N shrugged, trying to act nonchalant, as if the second she’d seen him, she hadn’t been ready to bolt. “I’m over it.”

“No, no it’s not okay. I shouldn’t have done that. Because that night was… great. It was amazing, actually. And everything leading up to the uh, you… you know, the...” he cleared his throat, and a smirk pulled up on Y/N’s lips.

“The sex? Come on, you can say it in your big old man age. It’s just three letters.”

“Jesus Christ.” Michael rubbed his neck as a slight pink shade crawled up his neck, which made Y/N let out a chuckle at how uncomfortable he looked talking about this. Maybe it was time to let this go, for his sake and her own sanity.

“Look, if it makes you feel any better,” Y/N shifted to the edge of the mattress and patted the side of her bed, so he could sit down. After asking if she was sure, he did take the offered space. “I – I’ve been treating you a bit unfairly with this. I think my ego was a bit crushed after waking up and not having you there, but, umm… you’re off the hook. Besides, I think I’m in your debt with all of this. Your team is amazing.”

“They’re pretty great, aren’t they?” he mumbled, one of his hands having moved to toy with the wristband the hospital had assigned to Y/N. “But still, how I reacted then, and even earlier in the morning… it wasn’t right. I mean, I’m pushing fifty for fuck’s sake. That’s not what someone my age does.”

“So what?” she raised a brow. “The issue is you think you’re a cradle-robber? Because you’re no more that than I am a grave robber. I’m twenty-six, Michael,” she turned her palm up hoping he’d accept it and slide his hand in hers. After a moment of hesitancy, he did, and Y/N squeezed it in reassurance. “I mean, if you think you’re doing something bad, by having slept with someone two decades younger than you, I’ll have you know, according to regency times, as a woman who’ll be turning twenty-seven this year, I’m pretty much a decrepit old spinster.”

Michael let out a soft laugh as his fingers trailed the lines on Y/N’s palm. “You have your whole life ahead of you. Me? I’m your probably dad’s age.”

“And looking hotter than ever, if you ask me.”

“Yeah? You think so?” He asked as Y/N hummed in affirmation. “Well then, for a decrepit old spinster, you are beautiful. And acting with much more grace than I deserved or deserve.”

Something in the way he said those last few words made her heart squeeze. “Michael… of course you deserve grace.”

“You’re being far too good to me… you’re far too good for me…”

Y/N’s brows furrowed at that. Slowly, she attempted to rise in a sitting position, but she didn’t get far before Michael had his arms around her waist, like they’d been two weeks ago, pushing a pillow to stabilize the small of her back. Once he was sure she was comfortable, he opened an apple juice box and handed it to her.

“To get your sugar up.”

But she just stared at him, only reaching for the little carton after he’d resumed his previous sitting position. “Is that what this is about?” she asked. “Some insecurity you think I deserve better than you? Because I can decide those things for myself. I am an adult. With a fully-developed frontal lobe, mind you.”

He took in a deep breath, held it for a second, then released it, and Y/N watched that whatever kind of decision he’d come to, had released a certain tension that’d been accumulating in his body. “Kind of, I guess. But mostly…” he swallowed, then nodded to himself, eyes trained on her wristband. “Mostly I got scared.”

“Of what?” Y/N tilted her head. “I mean, I know my morning breath probably isn’t that attractive, and the smeared makeup made me look like a coked-out raccoon, but -,”

“No,” Michael shook his head, chuckling. His cheeks were reddish at her words, but as he lifted his eyes to hers, there was a grateful look to them. Like he was thankful she wasn’t making fun of him even in his ripe old age. “You,” he stumbled over his words a bit, “when I saw you there, sleeping by my side like you belonged… I don’t think I’ve ever seen anything more beautiful than that. And that’s when I thought to myself – if I worked up the courage, could there be more mornings like that? Could I make you breakfast and coffee one day? Maybe I’d get the privilege of falling asleep next to you as we watch movies at night. And that scared me.”

“The possible future?”

“Wanting that possible future, because that feeling, the one that started to grow right here,” he tapped the center of his chest. “I couldn’t think straight. So, I had to go.”

“I mean,” Y/N swallowed hard. “That is a lot to imagine after only a few hours together.”

“Does that… creep you out? ‘Cause it’s totally understandable if it does. I mean Jesus, I’m old… and you’re so young.”

“No, it doesn’t.” And she meant it when she said it. “I find it actually quite endearing, but you can stop being so hung-up on the age difference. If you think there might be some daddy issues on my side, I can assure you – there’s none. I quite like my dad, and I definitely don’t see you as such a figure. Not after the things you did to me. ‘Cause, quite honestly, sex with you was probably the best dicking-down I’ve had in a year.”

If Michael had been drinking anything, Y/N was sure he would have choked with how he sputtered at her words. “Well, uh, yeah, I uh… I’m glad you… enjoyed it.”

“I did. And I know you enjoyed it too,” her smile was nothing short of wicked.

“Yeah, and apparently now the rest of the residents and nurses and doctors know it too?” Michael raised his brows at her.

It took Y/N a while to realize he was talking about when she’d gotten admitted and spilt the beans on their night together, implying their copious amount of copulation. “Hey, don’t shoot the messenger, but I’d like to think your reputation has now gone sky-high between the female nurses and doctors. Maybe the guys and theys as well. But I do apologize for talking about your private life while at your work. In my defense, until that very moment, I didn’t know you worked here. And well, I was pissed.”

“You and your mouth will get you in trouble one day,” Michael pointed at her.

“Yeah? Would you like to put something in it, to shut me up? Last time, you really liked it when I -,”

“Okay, trouble, that’s enough.” Even though his words had a finality to them, humor glowed on his features. He seemed relaxed. Content even, as he took the now empty apple juice box Y/N had been sipping on this whole time.

“You on a break?” She started scooting down the bed once more, and Michael instantly helped her get situated.

“Want to get rid of me so quickly?”

“No. It’s just you’re spending an awfully long time with me. Don’t you have other patients to check in on? I don’t want you to waste your time if you need to get to someone else. Or maybe grab a bite to eat? I’m fairly sure doctors don’t know how to have a good work-life balance, despite continuously recommending it to us, mere mortals.”

“Time with you isn’t a waste.”

Oh.

Oh, how badly did Y/N want to rip off the little wires connecting her to the heart monitor, because had Michael not turned the sound off, she was sure the whole hospital would be hearing it go nuts at his words, the squiggling beat of it a treat for only Michael this time, because when he noticed it, a smirk bloomed on his mouth. He didn’t say anything, but he didn’t need to, not when he murmured, twining their fingers together, “I want to kiss you so bad.”

“I definitely won’t be opposed to that.” Y/N’s answer might have come way too quickly, but she was beyond feeling embarrassed about wanting him. “You have permission to kiss away. For as long as possible. All day, every day, whenever you want to.”

“Well, thank you for that,” Michael chuckled, cupping her cheek, and she leaned into the touch. “But… not right now. Let me take you out on a proper date. Let me do this right.”

“Oh my God, seriously?” Y/N whined throwing her head back. “You’re gonna make me wait? Especially after that whole speech and whatnot? You are a cruel, cruel man Dr. Michael Robinavitch.”

Slowly, without breaking eye contact, he leaned to hover over Y/N, a golden necklace slipping from the inside of his shirt and dangling before her. She wanted to pull it between her teeth like she’d done so during their one night together. It took every dwindling ounce of willpower not to.

“Maybe, I just want you aching. And yearning. You were the one who said men don’t yearn enough nowadays. But I have. For you, for two whole god-damned weeks. Now it’s your turn.”

It was pathetic how Y/N wanted to cry and whimper. “But I didn’t even do anything! You were the one that ran out! Why am I being punished for your actions?”

“Do you – do you not want to go on a date with me?”

“I do, but I’d rather you rail me as soon as possible.”

“Well, for one,” Michael tried to continue on as if Y/N’s words hadn’t made heat creep up his face, but he could only do so much. He was a human, after all. “You’re not allowed any strenuous activities until you’ve got a clean bill of health. And two, all teasing aside, I want to do this properly. I want to do right by you this time.”

“Why would you?” she exasperated. “I wasn’t complaining when you didn’t do it right by me, and I’m certainly not going to if you suddenly decide to stop being chivalrous. Maybe even right here. We could recreate some scene from Grey’s Anatomy?” Y/N wiggled her brows at him, eliciting a deep rumble of a chuckle.

“Grey’s is just a malpractice lawsuit after a malpractice lawsuit, and I, unlike the characters there, don’t want my medical license to be revoked. Until you get discharged, I’m one of your doctors.”

“My hot doctor, you mean.”

The sigh that left Michael was not weary or a worn-out kind of noise. Rather it was a resigned I-guess-this-is-my-life-now kind of a sigh, especially combined with the endearing look on his face, it made Y/N feel warm all over.

Slowly, as they talked a bit more, her eyes began to droop, exhaustion from the morning, from the surgery and the subsequent consequences settling in once more. “Will you stay?” she asked as Michael brushed a knuckle along her jaw. “Just until I fall asleep?”

“Of course,” Michael took her hand in his, sitting down by her side again, as he pressed a kiss to her wrist. “And I… I wish I could promise I’ll be here when you wake up, but I, -”

“I know,” Y/N interrupted him with a soft and understating smile. “By that point, you’ll probably be off saving lives. It’s why I’m not asking you to.”

“I’ll try though.” He promised.

“Okay.”

And with her hand still in Michael’s, Y/N drifted off once again without even realizing it was pitch-black outside, and Michael hadn’t been wearing his shift scrubs. He should have long been home resting, and yet, he hadn’t been able to leave her. Not like he did before.

By the time she awoke early the next morning, Y/N was clearheaded, and yet all her thoughts mulled over the conversation she’d had with Michael the previous night. Would he go back on his word? Had he only talked with her like that because she was high on pain meds, and maybe thought she wouldn’t remember their discussions?

She knew he hadn’t promised to be there when she awoke, so Y/N didn’t hold it against him, but she couldn’t deny the sting. But that was immediately soothed by the hoodie that’d been laid over the back of a chair.

His hoodie.

A promise he would at least have a reason to come back and check in on her. It was Dana, the charge nurse, peeking her head inside that pulled Y/N back into the present. “How are we feeling today? Ready to be discharged? Dr. Langdon will be with you shortly for a follow-up.”

The woman in the hospital bed groaned. “Can’t I just stay here? Like you people – you are normal. Sara will be a mother hen on crack. I am willing to brave hospital food, as long as I don’t have to go home to all that fussing. She’s probably already bullied our landlord into installing a lift or something.”

“She cares for you,” it was Dr. Langdon piping in, as he entered her room, pulling on a pair of gloves and nodding to Dana in thanks. “You’re pretty lucky to have a friend like her.”

“Yeah, I know,” Y/N sighed as Dr. Langdon looked over her leg, asked some questions about pain levels and talked her through the post-op care. “But in my defense, she has a tendency to overreact.”

“I’d say you have a tendency to underreact, but that’s just my professional opinion.”

She rolled her eyes as Dr. Langdon finished his assessment and handed off her chart to Dana, so they could start the discharge process. “God forbid a girl has hobbies.”

“In any case, I do think the whole ED is in debt to Sara.”

To that she raised a brow.

“Well, had she not made you come in, I don’t know if Dr. Robby would have had a chance of seeing you again. Because, if I have to be honest, we’ve all been scratching our heads the past couple of weeks trying to figure out why he’s been in such a mood. Now we know why.”

“You two shit-talking me?” Michael’s soft tone interrupted the conversation, as he crossed his arms and leaned against the entryway. “How are you feeling?”

She tried and failed to hide the heat creeping up her veins. Even if Y/N had succeeded, that damned monitor, the sound no doubt having been turned back on by Michael before he left, to make sure if anything went awry at night, someone was there for her, betrayed her anyway. God, she wanted to punch the smile off both the men's faces.

“Fine.” She turned her head to look at the wall, as a nurse stepped in and removed the IV catheter and wrapped her hand in gauze. “Not looking forward to the itching that will appear, in what? Three days?”

“No scratching,” Dr. Dimple pointed at her with a pen. “You could injure yourself and cause a serious infection. No rulers, no knitting needles, no crochet needles, no twigs or branches, no nothing.”

“But what about -,”

“No nothing,” he emphasized. “Or I will have to recommend Dr. Robby make a house call on you. Though that isn’t much of a threat for you two, is it?”

“Okay, Frank? Scram. Now. There’re patients that need checking on. I can take care of Y/N.”

“Yeah, I bet you can,” Dr. Langdon let out a laugh but was out of the room before either she or Michael could say anything.

The only thing Y/N was happy about, was that the comment had made not only her flustered, but Michael as well, as he shifted on his feet and rubbed the back of his neck in a nervous tick. In the end, he gave her a smile that said “Sorry about him” and padded over to where he’d left his hoodie.

And that only made her even more flustered, because seeing a man like him, so level-headed and sure, get visibly nervous over her, did things to Y/N. Which made her want to do things to Michael, but then Dana returned, two crutches in hand, Whitaker wheeling a wheelchair once more, and all passion slipped away.

“Right, thanks.” She eyed the crutches like they were cow-eating pythons. “I fucking hate my life.”

Low, warm laughter filtered through the room as Dana helped Y/N get redressed and situated her in the wheelchair, crutches placed over her knees as she was rolled to the nurse’s station.

“I uh, took the liberty of calling Sara for you,” Michael said as he leaned against the table. When Y/N raised a brow in question, he elaborated, “She’s in your emergency contacts. Should be here in fifteen or so.”

“Thank you. You didn’t have to do that, you know.”

“I know,” he smiled. “But I wanted to.”

And there it was again, that warmth that blossomed in her chest, only this time she let it spread, let it wrap around her heart and wash away that bitterness, that’d been there since the morning Y/N had woken up cold and alone.

It hadn’t been just the sex, though that night Michael had given her some of the most earth-shattering orgasms she’d ever had (thankfully, Sara had been away with her girlfriend, so she didn’t have to suffer through the teasing).

It was the conversations leading up to it, the sense of ease Y/N felt around Michael. He was witty and sarcastic, his humor dry, but not at the expense of others while being engaging and thought-provoking at the same time. What had sealed the deal for her though was when he actually engaged in the debate, she presented him – if he had to kiss a fish-spider hybrid, what would he choose – fish head, spider body or fish body, spider head?

He’d made her laugh so hard she cried, and when Y/N had deemed it was time to call an Uber and go home, she’d taken the risk and asked if he wanted to come to her place. And after a few moments where she wanted the earth to open and swallow her whole, he’d nodded.

Together they waited for the cab, standing side by side, yet not touching. He’d opened the car door for her, before slipping in himself.

The tension could be cut with a knife, and afterwards, Y/N had given the driver five stars for enduring it, while the whole way, one of Michael’s palms had slowly moved to rest against her thigh, and she’d had to clench them together because if she didn’t, there would be a noticeable wet spot underneath.

After an agonizing half an hour's drive, they finally got to her place. Michael held the door open for her, and insisted on paying for the Uber, no matter how much Y/N protested.

Every step towards the apartment she was renting on the fourth floor of the complex, was agony. As she fumbled for her keys, Michael’s fingers were slowly skimming the side of her dress where the zipper rested.

Y/N’s whole body was a live-wire, and she wondered how in the world had the lock not melted from the heat, as it slid in place and she unlocked the door, the motion now forever having a sexual connotation, for in that moment Michael was the key that would unlock her desires.

Together, they stepped beyond the threshold, and yet still, he never once removed his touch from her body. From that damned little black number. She’d only worn it because she’d been set up on a blind date. They were supposed to meet up at the bar for a drink before going to a play, but as it turns out, even guys who like theatre can ghost.

When Y/N realized the situation, she wanted to go home, as her date was the one who had the tickets, pull this thing off and drink the already opened bottle of wine that was in the fridge, but she could have at least one good cocktail before that.

That’s when Dr. Robby, or as he’d asked her to call him by his first name, Michael, slid into the seat next to her. They didn’t talk for the first five minutes, not until she’d been scrolling through Instagram and some post had caught her eye. Something about green tea enemas and glowing skin, and the man beside had released a heavy-duty sigh, accompanied by “fucking Dr. Google.”

It’s when slowly but surely, they’d struck up a conversation, which had now resulted in Y/N having Michael towering over her, his beard scratching against the crook of her neck where he’d placed his chin.

When his hands wove and settled against her stomach, any sort of resolve she’d had, snapped. Instantly, she turned, weaving her arms around his neck and pulling his mouth to hers in a bruising kind of kiss. The kind that left you breathless and dizzy and wanting more.

She felt an insatiable thrill rush down her spine as Michael responded with just as much vigor, the pads of his fingers digging deep into her hips and pulling her to be flush against his chest, so much so, that Y/N could feel his own desire growing in his groin.

“I’ve never hated clothes more than I do right now,” she giggled as Michael grappled with the door handle and pushed it close without disconnecting from one another.

“Then let’s get them off, shall we?”

The way he dragged the side zipper open, was almost reverent, worshipping even. Like he wanted to prolong the build-up between them, and Y/N couldn’t lie – she was loving it, even if she was losing her mind. So many times, when she’d had hook-ups, guys tended to just get her naked as fast as possible, which was fine. She was down for it, but there was something indescribable about how Michael reveled in feeling her slowly start to tremble, in how he kissed up and down her neck, while his fingers took their sweet time. It drove her insane with want, in an amount she’d never felt before.

His pointer finger dragged its way up Y/N’s bicep, making goosebumps erupt all over before he slowly slid a strap down. Then the other, until the dress was pooling around her waist, and still, where usually she’d be helping the guy shimmy herself out of the dress, Michael didn’t rush. He simply allowed his hands to explore her body, skimming along her ribs and up to the black lacy number she’d worn, then right back down.

“You counting if I have all my ribs in place, Dr. Robby?” Y/N let out a shaky breath, trying to alleviate the gathered tension, for she was just about to combust, but all she got was a soft smile as he leaned down and pressed a kiss to her neck where her pulse was visibly thrumming.

“I don’t have much time in my day to stop and admire art. So please, indulge me. And art, which I’m allowed to touch, should be revered even more so.”

Her eyes may or may not have rolled to the back of her head at his words, and he hadn’t even gotten his head between her legs yet. Yeah, Dr. Michael “Robby” Robinavitch, the attending of a trauma centre, would be the death of her.

Name of the deceased - Y/N Y/L/N. Date of death - 4th of April, 2025. Cause of death – self-combustion. Reason for self-combustion – a sexy as fuck doctor.

Quite honestly, if that was how she was going to go, so be it.

Finally, though, after what felt like ages, her dress was shed, leaving her only in her underwear and strappy high-heels she’d worn.

“If there is one thing I hate, it’s not having a photographic memory,” Michael grumbled as his hands skimmed along the waistband of her panties. “But trust me when I say this, I will be picturing this moment for decades to come.”

“You are more than welcome to have a look at what’s hiding underneath,” Y/N said. Or that is what she would have said, had she not simply whimpered in response. Not very sexy of her, but the feeling of his chest rumbling with a laugh, totally made up for it.

She gathered enough of her bearings to step out of the fabric around her feet and move them along to her room. Never did his eyes leave her, never did his gaze waver or wander as they faced one another, her queen-sized bed behind her.

“You are awfully overdressed,” Y/N mumbled, allowing herself the luxury of running her palms along the still-covered planed of his chest. His breathing was steady, but to feel the erratic thumping of his heart excited her beyond measure. It meant all that composure was just an act, and she was thrilled she’d be the one to crack it.

She was just about to move her fingers to the buttons of his shirt when Michael slid down to his knees. If his hands hadn’t been resting against her thighs, she was sure she would’ve buckled and crashed. And Michael, damn the man to hell and back, knew it, if only by the smirk that stretched his face as he unlaced the strappy heels she had on and helped her stand on her feet.

Y/N covered her face and groaned, throwing her head back. “You’re enjoying this, aren’t you? Torturing me?”

“Torturing you?” A kiss against her navel. “The only person being tortured tonight has been me. At the bar. In the car. Even now, you’re driving me crazy. So, if this is torture, simply consider it payback.”

With the gentlest of touches, only a doctor could manage, Michael skimmed over Y/N’s stretchmarks, scars and blemishes – pieces of herself she didn’t particularly like, but the way he touched her… it was like he was mapping out the carve-marks of a Michelangelo statue. She was Venus and those – the history of her life.

By the time he got back up to her mouth, she was a trembling mess, her nails digging into the muscles of his back, as finally, to her relief, he allowed her to rid him of the shirt.

Much like he’d done to her, Y/N allowed herself the pleasure of exploring his body, mapping out the ridges and slopes of his chest and abdomen, before moving around to his back, and once they made their way to the small of it, she dug her nails against the skin there. The groan she was rewarded with, was sweeter than the cocktail he’d bought her.

“Is it okay, if I touch you here?” Michael’s fingers slipped along the tops of her breasts before they moved to her back where they toyed with the clasp of the garment.

“More than,” Y/N’s words were a breathless whisper by that point, and her inhale stuttered in her chest as she deftly snapped it open.

It was clear he had experience, and not just because he was two decades her senior, but probably also because he’d done so in the trauma center, he worked at. For a brief, stupid second, she wondered how he could still find such acts pleasurable when he’d no doubt had to have done it during horrendous emergencies, yet all that was wiped away when Michael lowered his head and his teeth grazed a nipple.

Her sharp gasp echoed around them, and Y/N weaved her fingers through his hair, pushing his face closer, as he lavished at her chest. The next day, she was sure, there would be bruises and love bites blooming like flowers across her chest and sternum, not to mention the delicious beard burn.

Y/N moaned as he pulled the peak into his mouth, but when an uninhibited thought entered, it made her throw it back in a deep groan.

“That feel good?”

“So fucking good, but also, so yeah, I,” she stammered trying to get her brain to cooperate and create a coherent sentence. “Okay, so I just imagined you in glasses, and this got like ten times hotter.”

“Glasses?” Michael chuckled, pulling slightly back and looking up at her. “That’s what does it for you?”

“Correction – you in glasses. Though you right now are so doing it for me too. But that image just… yeah… kinda glad you don’t have any on. I’d probably be a pile of ash by this point.”

“Now that would be a shame, wouldn’t it?” He said, slowly moving to her other breast, but not neglecting the one he’d already loved on, by cupping it in his large palm. “I mean, I’m just getting started.”

Yeah, Y/N was dead and done for.

As he continued licking at her chest, the hand that’d been fondling one of them, slid down her front and tentatively brushed against her clothed core. It was a single knuckle right against where her clit was, but it was enough for her to jolt in his grasp. Michael just steadied her and held tighter around her waist.

Once he deemed Y/N’s breasts worshipped enough, he trailed back up between them and covered her mouth with his, yet the knuckle, that damned fucking knuckle, still slid against her pussy. He could no doubt feel how wet she was, the material, though there wasn’t much of it anyway, soaked through so bad, her thighs were already sticky.

“Michael please,” Y/N was now openly begging. She was way beyond feeling embarrassed for such a move when in the span of half an hour, he’d reduced her to liquid fire. No one had ever made her feel this wanted. This needed. And she desperately wanted and needed him too.

“Tell me what you want,” he murmured, as he pushed his thumbs beyond the waistband of her panties and started to lower them down. The cool air hit her exposed core, and Y/N released a breathless moan. “You gotta tell me what you want and don’t want. I’m not gonna go any further until you do.”

“I want you to touch me.”

“I am touching you.”

She could feel him smirk as his hands took hold of the globes of her ass and squeezed.

“No, I want you to touch me there,” Y/N whined and tried to chase his mouth with hers, but Michael pulled back, shaking his head.

“Gotta be more specific than that, sweetheart.”

She debated on pulling away completely, on not giving him what he wanted either, but she was pathetic for this man. So, instead, she took one of his hands and guided it from where it rested against her ass, towards the front, sighing in relief as he let her do so. With her fingers guiding his, they slid to rest between her legs as Michael slowly, ever so exploratory, found her clit. She pressed her hand harder against his, so he could match the pressure on her core, and when he did so, overwhelming pleasure flooded her veins.

“There,” Y/N breathed. “I want you to touch me there. And then,” she moved his hand deeper, by the wrist, until she could feel the pads of his fingers nudging against her entrance. “I want you to put three of your fingers inside me, while you suck on my clit, until I’m a crying mess.”

As Y/N lifted her head back to look at him, there was absolutely no sign of the warm brown irises that’d looked at her so gently at the bar. Sure, it was dark in the apartment, yet even in bright daylight, she’d bet all her student loans, only two black abysses would be staring back at her, especially with how fast his chest was rising and falling.

“And then?”

God, had his voice dropped even lower? How did he manage to make it so gravelly, yet smooth as the darkest, most succulent chocolate?

“And then…” Her fingers trembled as she moved her hands to the front of his pants, undoing the buckle and flipping open the button, lowering the zipper as she went. All the while, Michael applied steady pressure on her clit, circling the bundle of nerves just enough to drive her towards the edge, but not enough for release to come. “And uhm, then…” She pushed his pants down as far as they would go, letting them bunch around his knees.

It took barely a moment for him to step out of them completely, kicking them to some forgotten corner of her room, leaving him in only his boxers. Somewhere along the way he’d lost the shoes and socks, but Y/N wasn’t about to go and hunt for them. Not with how he still circled her clit with those experienced appendages.

“Yes?” He raised a brow and pressed harder against her clit, making her pull in a sharp breath.

“And then,” Y/N trailed a teasing finger along the band of his boxers, for once delighting in how his abdomen muscles went taut, and his obviously hard dick twitched inside the confines. “And then I want you to fuck me. However, you want to. As long as by the end of it, neither of us know up from down and left from right.”

When she cupped him over the clothes he still had left on, it seemed like it snapped something in Michael, some taut, already fragile wire, that’d begun fraying ever since she’d invited him back to her place. Because this time when he kissed Y/N, it was a hungry kiss. A man starved being served the most lavish meal of all.

She was on the mattress in a matter of seconds, body covered by his towering frame. They molded perfectly together, Y/N thought. When she rolled her hips up to get at least some form of friction, he responded in kind, clearly searching to satiate his own desire.

Michael’s hands slid from her shoulders down the length of her arms before intertwining their fingers and bringing them up and over Y/N’s head, not once disconnecting from the kiss.

“You keep them there,” he instructed, breathing the words into her mouth. “And when I’m done with my appetizer, we’ll move on to the first of the main courses.”

“Appetizer?” Y/N squeaked out. A good hook-up in her books was at least two orgasms, usually only having one. But calling eating her out an appetizer, and then having a numbered list of courses, was something else completely.

Michael’s only response was that same damned smirk she’d learned could only mean torture, as he made his way between her legs, and without wasting another second, diving in between them.

The first lick of his tongue was a broad, all-encompassing one. And Y/N could only hope her neighbors had some good noise-cancelling headphones at the ready.

His forearms had settled against her hips and palms splayed themselves over her stomach to push her down against the bed, as she tried to chase his mouth.

And what a mouth it was.

Who knew the soft-spoken trauma doctor she’d met on a random Friday night at a bar while waiting for a date that never came, would be the creation of the Devil himself?

But when he pushed two thick fingers inside, shortly followed by a third, just like Y/N had asked, all thoughts flew out of the window. The way he curled them in an attempt at finding that spot that made her gasp and choke on air, the way he scissored them, stretching her, preparing her for the first course he had in mind, was diabolical.

Her first orgasm came unexpectedly. She could feel it like a wave – pushing and pulling – but she hadn’t expected the moment it crested and shattered against the rocks, swift and sharp, coming without a warning, all due to the teasing that’d happened before, no doubt.

Michael rode it out with Y/N, until her hips stopped grinding against his mouth, and he could gently remove his fingers from her pussy.

He placed a soft kiss against the inside of her thigh, the skin raw and tender from his beard, that now glistened with her juices.

“ ‘M sorry,” Y/N mumbled, an arm thrown over her eyes as she came down from her high and tears streamed down to her temples, just like she’d requested.

“Whatever for?”

“Didn’t warn you I was coming.”

As the aftershocks receded, and she removed her arm, she found Michael looking up at her completely puzzled. “And why would I need a warning? I could tell, you know.” He rose to hover over her. “The way you were clenching. Fucking proud of it too.”

“No, I mean,” she huffed, trailing a hand down his chest. “Sometimes guys don’t want to… you know… have that in their mouth. They’d rather finish a girl off with their fingers and not have to… taste it.”

Now that was one way to kill a mood, but Y/N had already opened her big mouth and the words were out.

“And why wouldn’t I want to taste it, hmm?” Michael tilted his head at her, as his hands drifted up and down her sides, over her breasts and clavicles, to skim along her neck and finally settle on the pillow beside her head. “Why wouldn’t I want that, when it’s the end goal? You got your tears,” he kissed the corners of her eyes where the salt still lingered. “And I got my wine.”

Her gaze drifted to the beard, the one she would be feeling for days to come, as she went about her life. The one that was glistening with the remnants of her orgasm even in the dark, and Y/N wondered, what it would be like to sit atop it. To have him pull her down by the waist as she claimed his mouth for her throne. They were such salacious thoughts, for a moment, embarrassment flushed through her, but come on! After such an eating out, Y/N was allowed to fantasize.

“And by the end of this, if you let me,” Michael mumbled, a golden chain dangling in between them. Quickly she snatched it between her teeth and pulled, making him come closer. “I’d like to do so at least once more.”

“You are absolutely welcome to it. Morning, noon and night.”

But at that moment, Y/N had no intentions of allowing him to go for another round, as when he leaned down for a kiss, she lifted a leg over his hip and twisted, throwing Michael off his balance and onto his back, with her now on top.

“But right now… you had your starter.” She gave him a wicked grin. “And I’ve yet to still have mine.”

“Fuck me,” was all he managed to groan out as he threaded a hand through his hair, head pressed tight against her silk-covered pillows while Y/N rid him of his boxers.

His length sprang free, thick and aching. It slapped against his abdomen and her hand curled around it immediately to give him some sort of relief, precum dripping from the tip. Or maybe, she intended to do quite the opposite.

He’d taken his sweet fucking time riling her up. She could take hers. But it was the way he let out the smallest of “please”, the way his eyes locked onto hers, practically begging to put him out of his misery, that did her in. She’d tease him come morning. For now, she was way too aroused herself to deprive her body of his any longer.

Y/N gathered a bit of saliva in her mouth and let it drip down onto his length, before dragging her tongue along the vein at the base of it, her lips wrapping around the tip as she made her way up and giving it a gentle, yet firm, suck.

Michael’s hips jolted, and a hand grasped onto her head. He didn’t push it down or pull her hair in any way, more so it seemed he needed something solid to hold onto as she pulled his length into her mouth, until it hit the back of her throat, making both of them choke.

“You don’t need to do that,” Michael started, ready to pull Y/N away if it became too much for her, but she stayed there, relaxing her muscles bit by bit, until he was so deep down her throat, her nose brushed against the hairs of his pelvis.

“Fucking. Hell.” Those were the only two words he managed to express before Y/N trailed her mouth up and started to really suck him off. After that, it was just grunts and groans, his hand tightening and then unclenching in her hair, but never pressing, never pushing her to take more than she wanted to. Michael was completely immersed with her pace, and ready to take whatever she gave him.

That sort of power could make anyone lightheaded, and when Y/N started to feel him twitch in her mouth, she pulled completely off.

Instantly, his eyes snapped open, head rising to look at how she climbed his body and settled her knees around his hips, pressing her core down against his length. She was just about ready to let it slide inside when Michael’s hands closed around her waist and stopped her.

“Condom,” he breathed out, chest rising and falling rapidly, probably the only word he could manage, which was great, because at least one of them still had some thinking skills left.

“Shit. Fuck. Right, yeah.”

Leaning over to her nightstand, Y/N half-fell over the bed to open the lowest drawer. In between her panties and vibrator, was a little foil packet which she fished out. She was glad of Michael’s unwavering hold, because the way she was precariously dangling over the edge, could end badly and with a stupidly gotten concussion.

When she was back to straddling him, opening the packet and rolling the condom on his length, their eyes met.

Michael rubbed his thumb in a circle on her hip. “We can always stop if you don’t want to go any further.”

“I’m not a quitter,” Y/N scoffed, yet it didn’t elicit the smile she was aiming for, as he rose into a sitting position, wrapping his arms around her, hers resting onto his shoulders.

“And this isn’t some race or competition. You can revoke consent anytime you want. And so can I.”

“I know that,” Y/N nodded, her gaze softening at his words. He could easily create a power imbalance between them. With double the decades of age and experience on her, Michael could be pushing at her limits, trying to twist things into teaching her how to properly please a guy and so on, yet throughout all of it, his focus had been zeroed in on her wants and needs. She shifted a bit in her lap at the thought that she hadn’t checked in with him. “Do you want to stop?”

“No.” His voice was soft but sure, and then, after a moment of him searching her eyes, the smile she’d hoped for, formed on his face. “But uh, and that is obviously if you are alright with it, I wouldn’t be opposed to adding your… friend… to our activities sometime later.”

“My friend?” Y/N tilted her head in confusion. “Oh…” A furious heat exploded through her body, and not because of the fact Michael’s cock was slowly rubbing against her clit, the head nudging just right for pleasure to zing through her.

He’d obviously noticed her vibrator, though the bright purple shade would be hard to miss. “You’re not turned off by it?”

“Why would I be? You’re a woman who has needs. And if that’s how you take care of them, it’s completely fine. I mean, as long as you’re being hygienic and safe about it. Besides,” Michael breathed against her neck, as his hand slid between their bodies and he grasped himself, lining the tip up with Y/N’s entrance. “Real men see them as tools to use to their advantage, not competition. And well, not to stroke my own ego,” he smirked, “but I don’t think I have any competition here.”

Y/N wanted to call him out for that statement, but he wasn’t lying. Not with the way his length stretched her out as he pushed inside. The fingering beforehand was incomparable to the feel of Michael sliding inside at a slow and agonizing pace, but one she desperately needed and welcomed.

He was thick and veiny, all ridges and girth, and so, so perfect for her.

It took a minute for him to be fully sheathed, and a minute more for Y/N to adjust, her forehead pressed against his, while he rubbed his hands up and down her back while she settled.

This wasn’t fucking. This was sex. This was intimate, and it was something she hadn’t known she’d wanted from a partner. Usually, it was fast and hard, leaving both her and the guy she was with, panting against the sheets. Satisfied in the sense that both (hopefully) had had orgasms, but something was always missing. Now, Y/N knew it was this – time.

Time spent exploring one another, time spent learning and teaching, and time spent simply enjoying each other’s bodies.

“You good?” Michael muttered, shifting ever so slightly and making the tip catch a spot inside of her, Y/N had only reached with her purple “friend”.

“Yeah,” she nodded. “You?”

“Yeah.” Michael kissed her. Whether as an affirmation of his words or simply because he could, she didn’t know. But neither did she care. He was the best kisser she’d had the opportunity to enjoy, so she’d take it.

While they kissed, Michael started moving. At first, it was slow rolls of hips, figuring out what movements made both of their breaths hitch and hearts pound, but it wasn’t long before Michael was on his back, knees bent as Y/N bounced up and down, his thumb pressed against her clit the whole time.

Her second orgasm of the night was a more controlled approach. She could feel the coil tightening in her abdomen, and when Michael started lifting his hips up to meet hers, Y/N listed forward, balancing herself against his chest.

“You gonna come?” he breathed against her ear as she pressed her chest against his, Michael’s hands wrapping along the small of her back and holding onto it, so he could fuck up into her pussy. “I can feel you clenching around me. Fuck, you feel good.”

“Michael,” Y/N moaned his name. Not Dr. Robby or Robby how he’d explained the people in his life called him, but the name he’d asked her to call him. His real name.

One snap, two, three. That was all it took for heat to explode. The only grounding thing in the world was his scent – some form of cheap cologne, antiseptic and sweat, but she knew she still had a long way before she came down, with how he was drilling up inside of her, chasing his own release.

It elicited another, albeit smaller orgasm, but the most pleasure she got was when she realized he’d come with her as his palms grabbed onto her ass and pulled her sharply down, her name a sweet grunt on his lips against her ear.

Yeah. Y/N needed to go out with more doctors. At least they knew where to find the clit and not neglect it once they had.

He brought a hand up to her face and pulled her by the cheek to meet his mouth, a satisfied sigh leaving her as he did so.

“That was the best one yet,” Y/N mumbled against his lips.

“And the night’s still young.”

They went three more rounds after that (because she only had three more condoms, and she’d rather use them on one man who knew how to make her come three more times, than three men, who would have trouble getting one out of her).

Michael was also a man of his word, as he had her vibrator join in on the fun. Y/N had her ass up in the air while he railed her from behind, an arm wrapped around her middle, pressing the toy to her clit, the vibrations sending pleasure unlike any other through her.

His front was flush to her back, beard having left delicious burns down her spine, as he’d kissed her there, before eating her out once more in between the rounds and pushing his again-hard cock inside.

That was the final orgasm she could manage, and it seemed Michael knew it. It was the kind that not only made her legs, but her whole body shake, leaving Y/N a trembling mess against the sheets, while he soothed her through the aftershocks.

“You with me, sweetheart?” he mumbled against her temple as he gathered her in his arms and laid them side by side.

“Jus’ give me a momen’,” Y/N slurred while Michael brushed a finger from her cheek to her jaw and back. “I think I’m a medical fucking miracle with how you just fucked my brains out, and yet, I can still function. Barely though.”

Michael’s chuckle reverberated through her body, as after she’d recovered slightly, he gathered her up and moved them to where she instructed the bathroom was, to make sure she peed and didn’t get a UTI. If these had been normal circumstances, she would have never let a guy see her peeing, but quite honestly, Y/N wasn’t sure she’d be able to get back from the toilet seat on her own.

“You’re more than welcome to have a shower if you want. Of course, only if you’re down with smelling like peaches or passion fruit.” Y/N nudged her chin towards the shower gels lining the floor, one hers, the other Sara’s.

“I wouldn’t be opposed to, but only if you join me.”

She hissed, biting her lip. “I don’t have any condoms left. Besides, from what I’ve heard and read, shower sex can be quite precarious. I’m surprised that you as a trauma doctor would risk such a thing.”

“I’m not asking to have sex,” Michale laughed and helped her stand on her still wobbly legs after she flushed. “I’m asking for you to shower with me. Nothing more, nothing less.”

And that’s what they actually did. They simply had a shower. Michael washed her back and she washed his, along with his hair. When she did so, the blissful look on his face, the way he allowed himself to melt against her touch, sent a new kind of thrill through her. But it also made her wonder – when was the last time he allowed someone to take care of him?

By the time they got out from under the water, it was close to four in the morning, so they dried themselves down and went to bed. Y/N’s down duvet was a warm and fluffy cloud around them. Sure, she could have asked him to leave, but why would she, when he seemed so content to be there? Whether anything came from it once they awoke, didn’t matter. If he didn’t want to leave at that moment, Y/N would be the last person to push him to.

She drifted off almost instantly, warm and safe in Michael’s hold, but when the real morning came and she rubbed the sleep from her eyes, body sore and satiated, she was met with a cold spot next to her.

There was no fucking sign on Michael, and judging by how she’d been tucked in, he’d left a while back.

Her dress and underwear had been neatly laid out on the chair in her room, heels tucked beneath it. As she ventured into the apartment, there were absolutely no signs of him, except for a cup of tea on the kitchenette. She knew it’d been made for her – it was filled to the brim, but much like the sheets, it was also already cold.

Sourness settled in her mouth as she poured the liquid down the drain. Not even a single fucking note. It was like they’d never even met.

Y/N hadn’t expected him to leave his phone number, God forbid, his address, what with how he’d laughed when she’d told him she was twenty-six, and he’d responded that he could be her father with that age gap. She knew she was some kind of spur-of-the-moment mistake he’d made. A weakness in his judgement, but fucking hell, she at least deserved an “it was great meeting you, wish you all the best,” note. Especially because he knew the only reason she’d gone to the bar was because she’d been ghosted by a date.

And now – now Michael was also a ghost, an unscratchable, unreachable itch under her skin she couldn’t get to.

That was the real reason Y/N’d felt so bitter for the past two weeks. If he’d been a bad lay, or maybe she’d been the bad party, she would understand the one-and-done-dump, but something about falling asleep while being wrapped up in one another, and then just leaving without so much as a goodbye, was crueler than if he’d left while she was still coming down from her release.

Now though, as she watched him while they waited at the nurse’s station, she noted how his fingers twitched by his side. She wondered whether he wanted to touch her as badly as she wanted to touch him, but then horrible reality kicked in – there wouldn’t be any sort of touching for a while.

She was stuck with her leg in a cast, and a scheduled check-up with Dr. Langdon in a week to take it off and remove the stitches, before it would get swaddled again for a month or more.

Y/N cursed the day she’d met Dr. Michael Robinavitch, for he’d released a monster of carnal urges, she didn’t even really know resided in her. And he was the only one who knew how to properly tame it because even in his scrubs and hoodie, surrounded by the smell of antiseptic and all sorts of bodily fluids she didn’t want to think about, all she wanted to do was grab him by the neck and get him to some supply closet to have her way with him like they were actually in Grey’s Anatomy.

“Michael, I,” Y/N started but got cut off by Sara waltzing into the emergency department.

“How’s my pirate doing?” She threw her arms around her shoulders and squeezed. “They assign you a parrot yet?”

“I don’t have a fucking peg-leg.” Y/N rolled her eyes as she signed a final form. With that, Sara took the wheelchair handles, gave Dana a salute and wheeled her out of the hospital, making Y/N crane her neck back and shout a final thank you to the nurse.

She was just about to ask Sara to slow down as she needed to talk to Michael, when she felt his presence moving with them, silent, steady and strong, his hands taking hold of the crutches as the automatic doors opened.

He followed them out and once they got to Sara’s car, helped Y/N settle in the front seat.

“You good?” He tucked a strand behind her ear.

“Yeah.” She gave him a genuine smile, and her heart pounded in her chest as his eyes trailed to trace her lips. “I am. Thank you. For taking care of me in there.”

“Honestly, I can’t believe I’m saying this, but the only time I’d like to see you back here is for your check-ups.”

Y/N nodded, suppressing a smile. “Duly noted. No shower karaoke for me.”

“I’m serious. You have an appointment with Frank in a week, but other than that, please take care of yourself, alright?”

“You don’t have to worry about that.” She nudged her head towards Sara who was wrangling the crutches inside the boot of the car. “Mother hen is on the job.”

“Good.” Michael nodded and before Y/N could properly prepare herself, he’d leaned down, cupping her jaw in his hands and kissed her.

Her brain short-circuited at that, but when his tongue probed against the seal of her lips, she had to start wondering if she’d actually died when she’d hit her head in the shower. It didn’t take more than that though for her to open up, for her arms to brush against his scrubs and weave into the salt-and-pepper hair.

By the time Michael pulled back, both their lips were kiss-swollen.

“Let me take you out on a date.”

Y/N let out a breathless laugh, scratching the back of his neck. “What happened to the doctor-patient thing?”

Michael only smirked. “You’ve been discharged. You’re no longer a patient of mine.”

“Okay, but even so – what would we do? My leg’s in a cast, and I can barely hobble around with the crutches.”

“I can carry you. I don’t mind.”

“And throw out your back, old man?”

“Hey, I’m not that old!” Michael protested, and when he noted the smile on her mouth, he pressed his against it once more.

“How about this,” Y/N proposed, “when you’re done with your shift, you could come over to my place, and -,”

“Our place,” Sara butted in, sliding into the driver’s seat. “So, whatever you have in mind – no hanky-panky with me next door.”

If Y/N rolled her eyes any harder they would get stuck in the back of her head, but she returned her attention to the awaiting attendant. “And we order some take-out. We watch a movie and then just… go to sleep?”

“It might be very late by the time I’m off.”

When she raised her hand and cupped his rugged cheek, it took him no time at all to lean into her touch. “I can wait.” She pecked his lips. “I’m in no rush.” She could only hope he understood the double meaning behind what she meant with it.

Later that night as Y/N sat by the TV, the glow of the screen illuminating her face, she fell asleep with her head against Michael’s chest.

And when she awoke, her sheets were warm with the remnants of his body, even if he wasn't there anymore.

She was alone, yes, but atop the pillow rested a note:

Shift started at 8. Sorry, I can’t be there to wake up with you. I’ll be home by 9.

It was almost impossible to wipe the smile off her face for the rest of the day.

Even as the itching under the cast started.

-----

Tags: are open :) if you wish to be tagged in further fics, please drop a comment under the fic or message me or leave me an ask :)

A/N: I have arisen

if you wish to know how this man makes me feel, please listen to Slutty by The Scarlet Opera.

I am FERAL.

P.S. I hope you enjoyed it :) feedback/constructive criticism is always appreciated :)

3K notes · View notes

abbotjack · 1 month ago

Note

Asking Robby to walk you down the aisle after u said yes to Jack hOLD MY HAND SYDDDD 😭😭😭😭

The Handoff 𖥔 ݁ ˖ִ ࣪₊ ⊹˚

a/n : I fear I took your idea and turned it into a 4k word emotional spiral. I genuinely couldn’t help myself. like… Jack crying in uniform??? Robby soft-dad-coded and holding it together until he can’t??? the handoff?? the dress reveal??

summary : Jack proposes in the trauma bay. You say yes. Before the wedding, you ask Robby to walk you down the aisle.

content/warnings: emotional wedding fluff, quiet proposal energy, found family themes, Jack crying in uniform, Robby in full dad-mode, reader with no biological family, soft military references, subtle grief, emotional intimacy, and everyone in the ER being completely unprepared for Jack Abbot to have visible feelings.

word count : 4,149 (... hear me out)

You hadn’t expected Jack to propose.

Not because you didn’t think he wanted to. But because Jack Abbot didn’t really ask for things. He was a man of action. Not words. Never had been.

But with you? He always showed it.

Like brushing your shoulder on the way to a trauma room—not for luck, not for show, just to say I’m here.

It was how he peeled oranges for you. Always handed to you in a napkin, wedges split and cleaned of the white stringy parts—because you once mentioned you hated them. And he remembered.

It was how he left the porch light on when you got held over.

How he’d warm your side of the bed with a heating pad when your back ached.

He’d hook his pinky with yours in the hallway. Leave your favorite hoodie—his—folded on your pillow when he knew he’d miss you by a few hours.

Jack didn’t say “I love you” like other people. He said it like this. In gestures. In patterns. In choosing you, over and over, without fanfare.

No big speeches. No dramatic declarations.

Just peeled oranges. Warm beds. Soft touches.

So when it finally happened—a proposal, of all things—it caught you off guard.

Not because you didn’t think he meant it. But because you’d never pictured it. Not from him. Not like this.

The trauma bay was quiet now. The kind of quiet that only happens after a win—after the adrenaline fades, the stats even out and the patient lives. You’d both been working the case for nearly forty minutes, side by side, barked orders and that intense, seamless rhythm you’d only ever found with him.

You saved a life tonight. Together.

And now the world outside the curtain was humming soft and far away.

You stood by the sink, scrubbing off the last of the blood—good blood, this time. He was leaning against the supply cabinet, gloves off. Something in his shoulders had dropped. His body loose in that way it never really was unless you were alone.

He didn’t speak at first.

Just watched you in that quiet way he always did when his guard was down—like he was trying to memorize you, just in case you weren’t there to catch him tomorrow.

You flicked water from your hands. “What?”

“Nothing.”

You gave him a look.

He hesitated.

Then, casually—as casually as only Jack could manage while asking you something that was about to gut you—

“I’d marry you.”

You froze. Not dramatically. Not visibly. Just enough that he caught the subtle change in your face, the way your mouth parted like you needed more air all of a sudden.

His eyes didn’t move. He didn’t smile. Didn’t joke.

“If you wanted,” he added after a beat, voice a little lower now. A little rougher. “I would.”

It didn’t sound like a performance. It sounded like a truth he’d been sitting on for months. One he only knew how to say in places like this—where the lighting was too bright and your hearts were still racing and nothing else existed but you two still breathing.

Your chest ached.

“Yeah,” you said. It came out quieter than you meant to. “I’d marry you too.”

He exhaled slowly through his nose.

And then he stepped toward you—not fast, not dramatic, just steady. Like he’d already decided that he was yours. Like this wasn’t new, just something the two of you had known without ever having to say it.

No ring. No big speech. No audience.

Just you. Him. The place where it all made sense.

“You’re it for me,” he murmured.

And you smiled too, because yeah—he didn’t say things often. But when he did?

They wrecked you.

Because he meant them. And he meant this.

You. Forever.

You didn’t tell anyone, not right away.

Not because you wanted to keep it a secret. But because you didn’t have anyone to tell. Not in the way other people did.

There were no group texts. No parents to call. No siblings waiting on the other end of the line, ready to scream and cry and make it real. You’d built your life from the ground up—and for a long time, that had felt like enough. You’d learned how to move through the world quietly. Efficiently. Without needing to belong to anyone. Without needing to be someone’s daughter.

But then came residency.

And Robby.

He hadn’t swooped in. Hadn’t made it obvious. That wasn’t his style. But the first week of your intern year, when you’d gotten chewed out by a trauma surgeon in the middle of the ER, it was Robby who handed you a water, sat next to you in the stairwell, and said, “He’s an asshole. Don’t let it stick.”

After that, it just… happened. Slowly.

He checked your notes when you looked too tired to think. He drove you home once in a snowstorm and started keeping granola bars in his glovebox—just in case.

He noticed you never talked about home. Never mentioned your parents. Never took time off for holidays.

He never asked. But he was always there.

When you matched into the program full-time, he texted, Knew it.

When you pulled your first solo central line, he left a sticky note on your locker: Took you long enough, show-off.

When a shift gutted you so bad you couldn’t breathe, he sat beside you on the floor of the supply room and didn’t say a word.

You never called him a father figure. You didn’t need to.

He just was.

So when the proposal finally felt real—settled, certain—you knew who you had to tell first.

You found him three days later, camped at his usual spot at the nurse’s station—reading glasses sliding down his nose, his ridiculous “#1 Interrogator” mug tucked in one hand. He didn’t notice you at first. You just stood there, stomach buzzing, watching the way he tapped his pen against the margin like he was trying not to throw the whole file out a window.

“Hey,” you said, trying not to fidget.

He looked up. “You look like you’re about to tell me someone died.”

“No one died.”

He leaned back in the chair, eyebrows raised. “Alright. Hit me.”

You opened your mouth—then paused. Your heart was thudding like you’d just sprinted up from sub-level trauma.

Then, quiet: “Jack proposed.”

A beat.

Another.

Robby blinked. “Wait—what?”

You nodded. “Yeah. Three days ago.”

His mouth opened. Then shut again. Then opened.

“In the middle of a shift?” he asked finally, like he couldn’t decide whether to be horrified or impressed.

You smiled. “End of a code. We’d just saved a guy. He said, ‘I’d marry you. If you wanted.’”

Robby looked down, then laughed quietly. “Of course he did. That’s so him.”

“I said yes.”

“Obviously you did.”

You shifted your weight, suddenly unsure.

“I didn’t know who to tell. But… I wanted you to know first.”

That landed.

He didn’t say anything. Just stared at you, his face soft in that way he rarely let it be. Like something behind his ribs had cracked open a little.

Then he let out a breath. Slow. Rough at the edges.

“He told me, you know,” he said. “A few weeks ago. That he was thinking about it.”

Your eyebrows lifted. “Really?”

“Well—‘told me’ is generous,” he muttered. “He cornered me outside the supply closet and said something like, ‘I don’t know if she’d say yes, but I think I need to ask.’ Then grunted and walked away.”

You laughed, head tilting. “That sounds about right.”

“I figured it would happen eventually,” Robby said. “I just didn’t know it already had. This is the first I’m hearing that he actually went through with it.”

He looked down at his coffee, thumb brushing the rim. Then back up at you with something warm in his expression that made your throat go tight.

“I’m proud of you, kid. Really.”

Your throat tightened.

“I don’t really have… anyone,” you said. “Not like that. But you’ve always been—”

He waved a hand, cutting you off before you could get too sentimental. His voice was quiet when he said, “I know.”

You nodded. Tried to swallow the lump forming in your throat.

“You crying on me?” he teased gently.

“No,” you lied.

“Liar.”

He reached up and gave your arm a firm pat—one of those dad-move, no-nonsense gestures—but he kept his hand there for a second, steady and warm.

“You’re gonna be okay,” he said. “The two of you. That’s gonna be something good.”

You smiled at the floor. Then at him.

“Hey, Robby?”

He looked up. “Yeah?”

You opened your mouth—hesitated. The words were there. Right there on your tongue. But they felt too big, too final for a hallway and a half-empty cup of coffee.

You shook your head, smiling just a little. “Actually… never mind.”

His eyes softened instantly. No push. No questions.

Just, “Alright. Whenever you’re ready.”

And somehow, you knew—he already knew what you were going to ask. And when the time came, he’d say yes without hesitation.

It happened on a Wednesday. Late enough in the evening that most of the ER had emptied out, early enough that the halls still echoed with footsteps and intercom beeps and nurses joking in breakrooms. You’d just finished a back-to-back shift—one of those long, hazy doubles where time folds in on itself. Your ID badge was flipped around on its lanyard. You smelled like sweat, sanitizer, and twelve hours of recycled air.

You found Robby in the stairwell.

Not for any sentimental reason—that’s just where he always went to decompress. A quiet landing. One of the overhead lights had a faint flicker, and he was sitting on the fourth step, half reading something, half just existing. His hoodie sleeves were shoved up to his elbows.

He looked tired in that familiar, permanent way. But settled. Like someone who wasn’t trying to be anywhere else.

“Hey,” you said, voice low.

He looked up instantly. “You good?”

You nodded. Walked down a few steps until you were standing just above him.

“I need to ask you something.”

He squinted. “You pregnant?”

You snorted. “No.”

“Did Jack do something stupid?”

“Also no.”

He closed the folder in his lap and gave you his full attention.

You hesitated. A long beat. “Okay, so—when I was younger, I used to lie.”

Robby blinked. “That’s where this is going?”

You ignored him.

“I’d make up stories about my family. At school. Whenever there was some essay or form or ‘bring your parents to career day’ crap—I’d just invent someone. A dad who was a firefighter. A mom who was a nurse. A grandma who sent birthday cards.”

Robby didn’t move. Just listened.

“And I got good at it. Lying. Not because I wanted to, but because it was easier than explaining why I didn’t have anybody. Why there was no one to call if something happened. Why I always stayed late. Why I never talked about holidays.”

You looked down at him now. Really looked at him.

“I didn’t make anything up this time.”

His brow furrowed, just slightly.

“Because I have someone now,” you said. “I do.”

He didn’t say anything. Not yet.

You took a breath that shook a little in your chest.

“And I’m getting married in a few months, and there’s this part I keep thinking about. The aisle. Walking down it. That moment.”

You cleared your throat.

“I don’t want it to be random. Or symbolic. Or just… for show.”

Another breath.

“I want it to be you.”

Robby blinked once.

Then again.

His mouth opened like he was about to say something. Closed. Then opened again.

“You want me to walk you?”

You nodded. “Yeah. I do.”

He exhaled hard. Looked away for a second like he needed the extra space to catch up to his own heart.

“Jesus,” he muttered. “You’re really trying to kill me.”

You smiled. “You can say no.”

“Don’t be an idiot.” He looked up at you, and his voice cracked just slightly. “Of course I’ll do it.”

You hadn’t expected to get emotional. Not really. But hearing it out loud—that he’d do it, that he meant it—it undid something small and knotted in your chest.

“You’re one of the best things that ever happened to me, you know that?” he said.

“I didn’t have a plan when you showed up that first year. Just thought, ‘this kid needs a break,’ and next thing I knew you were stealing my chair and bitching about suture kits like we’d been doing this for a decade.”

You laughed, throat thick. “That sounds about right.”

“I’m gonna need a suit now, huh?”

“You don’t have to wear a suit.”

“Oh, no, no. I’m going full emotional support tuxedo. I’m showing up with cufflinks. Maybe a cane.”

You rolled your eyes. “You’re unbelievable.”

He stood then—slower than he used to, one hand on the railing—and looked at you with that same warmth he always tried to hide under sarcasm and caffeine.

“You did good, kid.”

You gave a crooked smile. “Thanks.”

The music started before you were ready.

It was quiet at first. Just the soft swell of strings rising behind the door. But your hands were shaking, your throat was tight, and everything felt too big all of a sudden.

Robby looked over, standing next to you in the little alcove just off the chapel doors, tie only mostly straight, boutonniere slightly crooked like he’d pinned it on in the car.

“You’re breathing like you’re about to code out,” he said gently.

You gave him a half-laugh, half-gasp. “I think I might.”

He tilted his head. “You okay?”

“No,” you whispered, eyes already burning. “I don’t know—maybe. Yes. I just—Jack’s out there. And everyone’s watching. What if I trip? Or ugly cry? Or completely blank and forget how to walk?”

Robby didn’t flinch. He just reached out and took your hand—steady and instinctive—his thumb brushing over your knuckles the way he had that night during your intern year, when you’d locked yourself in the on-call room and couldn’t stop shaking after your first failed intubation. He didn’t say anything then either. Just sat beside you on the floor and held your hand like this—anchoring, patient, there.

“Hey,” Robby said—steady, but quieter now. “You’re walking toward the only guy I’ve ever seen drop everything—without thinking—just because you looked a little off walking out of a shift.”

You blinked, chest already starting to tighten.

“I’ve watched him learn you,” Robby continued. “Slow. Quiet. Like he was memorizing every version of you without making it a thing. The tired version. The pissed-off version. The one who forgets to eat and pretends she’s fine.”

He let out a quiet laugh, still looking right at you.

“I’ve seen Jack do a thoracotomy with one hand and hold pressure with the other. I’ve seen him walk into scenes nobody else wanted, shirt soaked, pulse steady, like he already knew how it would end. He doesn’t rattle. Hell, I watched him take a punch from a drunk in triage and not even blink.”

His hand tightened around yours—just slightly.

“That’s how I know,” he said. “That this is it. Because Jack—the guy who’s walked into burning scenes with blood on his boots and didn’t even flinch—looked scared shitless the second he realized he couldn’t picture his life without you. Not because he didn’t think you’d say yes. But because he knew it meant something. That this wasn’t something he could compartmentalize or walk away from if it got hard. Loving you? That’s the one thing he can't afford to lose.”

Your eyes burned instantly. “You’re gonna make me cry.”

“Good. Less pressure on me to be the first one.”

You gave him a teary smile. “You ready?”

Robby offered his arm. “Kid, I’ve been ready since the day you stopped listing ‘N/A’ under emergency contact.”

The doors creaked open.

You sucked in a breath.

And then—

The music swelled.

Not the dramatic kind—no orchestral swell, no overblown strings. Just the soft, deliberate rise of something warm and low and steady. Something that sounded like home.

The crowd stood. Rows of people from different pieces of your life, blurred behind the blur in your eyes. You couldn’t see any one of them clearly—not Dana, not Langdon, not Whitaker fidgeting with his tie—but you felt them. Their hush. Their stillness.

And at the far end of the aisle stood Jack—dressed in his Army blues.

Not a rented tux. Not a tailored suit.

His uniform.

Pressed. Precise. Quietly immaculate.

It wasn’t a performance. It wasn’t for show. It was him.

He hadn’t worn it to make a statement. He wore it because there were people in the pews who knew him from before—before the ER, before Pittsburgh, before you. Men and women who had bled beside him, saved lives beside him, watched him shoulder more than anyone should—and never once seen him like this.

Undone. Open.

There were people in his family who’d worn that uniform long before him. And people he’d served with who taught him what it meant to wear it well. Not for attention. Not for tradition. But because it meant something. A history. A duty. A vow he never stopped honoring—even long after the war ended.

And when you saw him standing there—dress blues crisp under the soft chapel light, shoulders squared, mouth tight, eyes full—you didn’t see someone dressed for a ceremony.

You saw him.

All of him. The past, the present, the parts that had been broken and rebuilt a dozen times over. The weight he’d never put down. The man he’d become when no one else was watching.

Jack didn’t flinch as the doors opened. He didn’t smile, didn’t wipe his eyes. He just stood there—steady, quiet, letting himself feel it.

Letting you see it.

And somehow, that meant more than anything he could’ve said.

The room stayed still, breath held around you.

Until, from somewhere near the front, Javadi’s whisper sliced through the quiet:

“Is he—oh my God, is Abbot crying?”

Mohan choked on a mint. Someone—maybe Santos—audibly gasped.

And halfway down the aisle—when your breath caught and your knees went just a little loose—Robby spoke, voice low and smug, just loud enough for you to hear.

“Well,” Robby muttered, voice low and smug, “remind me to collect $20 from Myrna next shift.”

You glanced at him, confused. “What?”

He didn’t look at you. Just kept his eyes forward, deadpan. “Nothing. Just—turns out you weren’t the only one betting on whether Jack would cry.”

Your breath hitched. “What?”

“She said he was carved from Army-grade stone and wouldn’t shed a tear if the hospital burned down with him inside. I disagreed.”

You gawked at him.

“She told me—and I quote—‘If Dr. Y/L/N ever changes her mind, tell her to step aside, because I will climb that man like a jungle gym.’”

You almost tripped. “Robby.”

“She’s got her sights set. Calls him ‘sergeant sweetheart’ when the nurses aren’t looking.”

You clamped a hand over your mouth, laughing through the tears already welling. And the altar still felt a mile away.

He finally glanced at you, face softening. “I said she didn’t stand a chance.”

You blinked fast.

“Because from the second he saw you?” Robby added, voice lower now. “That was it. He was done for.”

You had never felt so chosen. So sure. So completely loved by someone who once thought emotions were best left unsaid.

Robby must have felt the shift in your weight, because he pulled you in slightly closer. His hand—broad and warm—curved around your arm like it had a thousand times before. Steady. Grounding. Father-coded to the core.

“You got this,” he murmured. “Look at him.”

You did.

And Jack was still there—still crying. Not bothering to wipe his eyes. Not hiding it. Like he knew nothing else mattered more than this moment. Than you.

When you finally reached the end of the aisle, Jack stepped forward before the officiant could speak. Like instinct.

Robby didn’t move at first.

He just looked at you—long and hard, eyes bright.

Then looked at Jack.

Then back at you.

His hand lingered at the small of your back.

And his voice, when it came, was rougher than usual. “You good?”

You nodded, too full to speak.

He nodded back. “Alright.”

And then—quietly, like it was something he wasn’t ready to do but always meant to—he took your hand, and placed it gently into Jack’s.

Jack didn’t look away from you. His hand curled tight around yours like it was a lifeline.

Robby cleared his throat. Stepped back just a little. And you saw it—the tremble at the corner of his mouth. The way he blinked too many times in a row.

He wasn’t immune to it.

Not this time.

“You take care of her,” he said, voice thick. “You hear me?”

Jack—eyes glassy, jaw tight—just nodded. One firm, reverent nod.

“I do,” he said.

And for once, that wasn’t a promise.

It was a fact.

A vow already lived.

Robby stepped back.

A quiet shift. No words, no fuss. Just one last glance—full of something that lived between pride and grief—and then he stepped aside, slow and careful, like his body knew he had to let go before his heart was ready.

And then it was just you and Jack.

He stepped in just a little closer—like the space between you, however small, had finally become too much. His hand tightened around yours, his breath shallow, like holding it together had taken everything he had.

The moment he saw you—really saw you—something behind his eyes cracked wide open.

He didn’t smile. Not right away.

He didn’t say anything clever. Didn’t reach for you like someone confident or composed.

It was like he’d been waiting for this moment his whole life—and still couldn’t believe it was real.

“Fuck,” he breathed. “You’re gonna kill me.”

You tried to laugh, but it cracked—caught somewhere between joy and everything else swelling behind your ribs.

The dress fit like a memory and a dream at once. Sleek. Understated. A silhouette that didn’t beg for attention, but held it all the same. Clean lines. Long sleeves. A bodice tailored just enough to feel timeless. A low back. No shimmer. No lace. Just quiet, deliberate elegance.

Just you.

Jack took a breath—slow and shaky.

“You’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen,” he said, like he wasn’t entirely sure he was speaking out loud.

You blinked fast, vision swimming.

“You’re not supposed to make me cry before we even say anything,” you managed, voice trembling.

He gave a small, broken laugh. “That makes two of us.”

You could feel the crowd behind you. Every attending. Every nurse. Every person who thought they knew Jack Abbot—stoic in trauma bays, voice sharp, pulse steady no matter what walked through the doors.

And now? They were seeing him like this.

Glass-eyed. Soft-spoken. Undone.

Jack looked at you again. Really looked.

“I knew I was gonna love you,” he said. “But I didn’t know it’d be like this.”

Your breath caught. “Like what?”

He smiled—slow, quiet, reverent.

“Like peace.”

You blinked so fast it almost turned into a sob. “God. I hate you.”

“No, you don’t.”

“No, I don’t,” you whispered, smiling through it.

Behind you, the music began to fade. The officiant cleared his throat.

Jack didn’t move. Didn’t look away. His thumb brushed over your knuckles like it had done a thousand times before—only this time, it meant something.

“I’ve never been more sure of anything,” he said softly. “Not in combat. Not in med school. Not even the first time I intubated someone on a moving Humvee.”

You laughed, choked and real. “You’re ridiculous.”

“I’m yours,” he corrected. “That’s the important part.”

The officiant spoke then, calling for quiet.

But Jack leaned in one last time, voice so low it barely touched the air.

“Tell me when to breathe,” he said.

You smiled, heart wrecked and steady all at once.

“I’ve got you.”

And Jack Abbot—combat medic, ER attending, man who spent a lifetime holding everything together—closed his eyes and let himself believe you.

Because for once in his life, he didn’t have to be ready for the worst.

He just had to stand beside the best thing that ever happened to him.

And say yes.

#the pitt #jack abbot #jack abbot x reader #dr abbot #the pitt fanfiction #the pitt x reader #dr robby #michael robinavitch #michael robinavitch x reader #dr abbot x reader #dr robby x reader #the pitt hbo #the pitt 2025 #fluff #noah wyle #shawn hatosy

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blackwidownat2814 · 24 days ago

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First of all: rude. I canNOT be crying at work over excellently written works...again.

Second: This was absolutely beautiful and heartbreaking and perfect all at the same time.

Can't wait for more!

Daylight: Month Four

Michael Robinavitch x Reader

Warnings: Mentions of PittFest, Robby opens up about his family history (mention of camps), a really emotional chapter tbh but it’s a bit shorter than the rest

Chapters: Month One, Month Two, Month Three, Month Four

Description: Robby and the reader have someone important reveal their baby’s gender, and Robby finds an old family heirloom as their baby’s first gift.

—

Robby’s knee bounced with anxiety, eyes focused on the door of the cafe. He hadn’t even touched his coffee, arms crossed over his chest. You, on the other hand, were contently munching on some kind of pastry that you couldn’t pronounce, but maybe that’s why it tasted so good.

“Need your nicotine gum?” You muffled through bites of your treat.

Your fiance pulled his lips to the side, revealing the gum he was already chewing between his teeth, eyes riveted on the door. “This isn’t a good idea.” He gritted.

You placed a hand on his bicep, squeezing gently. “Robby. It’s gonna be fine. You two have made great progress.” You soothed.

Robby only looked away from the door to the envelope that rested in the middle of the table. “I just don’t want to overwhelm him. I don’t want to backtrack on the progress.” He confessed.

You took a sip of your decaffeinated iced coffee to soothe your cravings. “You’re overthinking this.”

Your level-headed response almost annoyed him. He looked at you, sipping on your iced drink with not a worry in the world. “You know, when I say that to you, you get angry at me.” He protested.

You shrugged and winked at him, and he rewarded you with a small smile that quickly vanished when the bell rang over the cafe door. Jake walked in, scanning the tables until he spotted the two of you. He grinned and headed over.

You rose to your feet and threw your arms around him. Even though you were closer in age to him than you were to Robby, Jake had quickly warmed up to you. Even after PittFest, you continued to talk with him while he and Robby mended their relationship slowly but surely. For a while, you served as a middle man for their communication, mediating the best you could.

“Oh, it’s so good to see you!” You greeted, hugging him tightly.

Jake laughed as he returned your embrace. “Good to see you, too. Sorry I couldn’t make coffee last week. Had an exam to study for.” He apologized.

You waved him off. “No worries. You better be making A’s.” You teased.

The boy smiled proudly. “Always.” He replied.

Robby stood awkwardly behind you, waiting for his turn to speak, rustling his faux hawk as he ran an anxious hand through his hair. Jake looked to him, and the tension was still there. The memories of blood and tears and hateful words that could never be taken back. Leah’s lifeless body underneath his hands. Before the shooting, Robby would have hugged him as tight as he could, but now, he was afraid to even shake his hand.

Instead, Robby just offered his fist, and Jake bumped his against it. “Hey, man. How are you?” Robby greeted.

Jake shrugged but smiled slightly. “Can’t complain.”

The small talk was forced. But at least they were talking. You sat down at the table again, and they followed suit. Jake’s favorite drink and pastry were already on the table waiting for him, just like every time he and Robby met up.

“So, what’s the surprise? Are we going on a fishing trip?” Jake asked, looking at Robby as he munched on his pastry that looked a little too good and maybe you were going to have to get Robby to get one for you.

You looked at Robby and gave him a smile of encouragement. Robby folded his hands in front of him on the table, fidgeting with his thumbs. “Um…” He mumbled. “We’re having a baby.”

The words were simple and quiet. But Jake’s eyes widened. “A baby?” He repeated, mouth agape.

Robby nodded and couldn’t help but smile a little bit. “Yeah.” He confirmed.

After looking between you and Robby to see if there was some kind of punchline, Jake beamed with excitement. “No fucking way!” He exclaimed, tapping his hands on the table.

You giggled at his reaction, and Robby broke into a laugh of pure relief. “16 weeks.” You announced.

Jake leaned in closer. “Is it a boy or girl?” He asked, eyes shining with curiosity.

You waited for your fiance to answer, knowing that every interaction was calculated and diligent. “Actually,” Robby pushed the white envelope toward Jake with a shaking hand, “we wanted you to tell us.” He answered.

Jake met Robby’s eyes, his smile dropping a bit. “You want me to know first?” He asked earnestly.

Robby smiled as naturally as he could, trying to mask his anxiety. “The nurse said it’ll be in the top left corner of the paper.” He explained.

Jake took the envelope and flipped it in his hands until he found the seal. Robby’s hand grasped yours tightly, trying to ground himself through the whirlwind of emotions he was experiencing. You felt your heart speed up as Jake tore open the envelope and unfolded the paper.

“Are you ready?” Jake asked before letting himself read the results.

You and Robby both nodded, breathing shakily at the anticipation. Jake’s eyes scanned the paper, and a smile broke on his face. He looked directly at Robby, and it was the first time in months that he smiled at him like that.

“It’s a girl.”

A girl. The words echoed through your mind. You were having a baby girl. Tears stung your eyes, and you placed your free hand on your belly. Robby took in a shaky breath, and his entire face went red, all the way to his ears as he fought back tears.

“A girl?” He breathed and looked to you, bottom lip quivering. “We’re having a baby girl.”

You nodded and squeezed his hand tightly. “I know you wanted a boy, but-“

Robby shook his head, clenching his eyes shut. “No.” His voice cracked. “I’ve always wanted a girl.”

Jake laughed with joy, reading the paper again. “I’m gonna have a baby sister?” He asked without missing a beat.

Robby’s eyes snapped to Jake, widened with shock. The question was simple, but the implication was so much more. After berating the old attending just a few months ago when Leah died. Denying him the position as a father figure in a fit of anger despite doing more for the boy in just a few years than his real father did his entire life. When patients asked him if he had any kids, he no longer answered with “Yes, I have a step son.” He would just quietly shake his head with negation.

Then the dam broke. Robby’s body wracked with sobs, and he let go of your hand to cover his face, trying to mask his unexpected reaction. Instinctively, you scooted closer to him and threw your arms around him. Jake did the same, their first hug since PittFest. Unconscious tears fell from the teenager’s eyes as the catharsis mended an old wound. Robby was surrounded on both sides with embraces from the people who loved him most.

He eventually pulled you both in closer to him as he managed to catch his breath. “Oh, God, I’m sorry.” He apologized with a breathy laugh, voice cracking through the emotions.

You wiped some of the wetness on his cheek away with your thumb, ignoring the tears that fell down yours. “The barista probably thinks Jake just told you that you’re dying or something.” You teased.

And your little family all laughed together for the first time in months in that cafe.

—

After an hour of catching up, you and Robby parted ways with Jake, promising to see him again next week for coffee. On the ride home, Robby held your hand across the console, rubbing circles on the dorsum of your hand with his thumb. You looked over to him when he stopped at a red light. He had a smile on his face that hadn’t faded since the cafe.

“So this whole time you were trying to gaslight me into thinking the baby was gonna be a boy?” You asked, a playfulness in your voice.

Robby chuckled and shook his head, eyes still on the traffic light. “No. I was trying to gaslight the baby. Because I figured whatever I wanted, the baby would be the opposite.” He explained.

You rolled your eyes but laughed nonetheless. “Crazy old man.” You muttered, squeezing his hand. “I think you’re meant to be a girl dad.”

He let off the brakes as the light turned green, continuing the journey home. “Why do you think that?”

You shrugged, watching the pedestrians on the sidewalk as you drove by. “It’s just your vibe.” You replied simply.

“My vibe.” He repeated the youthful lingo in his mouth with a small laugh. The car was silent following that, with just the radio playing as background noise. As Robby pulled into the driveway of your house, he gave your hand one last squeeze. “Go on in. I need to get something from the attic.” He said.

You did as he said, stepping inside your warm home. Without a thought, you walked into the spare bedroom. It would become the nursery. You sat on the guest bed, crossing your legs, imagining the color that you would paint the walls, where the crib would go, how many stuffed animals to collect.

Robby walked into the room, holding a tiny, weathered box. His eyes were fixed on it, not looking up as he sat next to you on the bed.

“Whatcha got there?” You asked.

He silently opened the box. He gingerly lifted a small, dainty bracelet that hung from his large fingers. A Star of David charm clung to the chain, and you could just barely see a Hebrew word etched into the Star.

“It was my savta’s when she was a baby.” He explained and took in a deep breath. “It was the only thing that wasn’t taken when they…” His voice caught, struggling to recall his family history. “When they sent her family to the camp.” He swallowed thickly, and you rubbed a calming hand on his back. “When she went back to their house years later, she found it tucked under a floorboard where her mother had hidden it.”

He opened your palm and let you hold the small bracelet. In that moment, you felt a powerful connection to his past, something you didn’t get to hear about often.

“Before she died, she gave it to me and told me to give it to my daughter. To tell her how Robinavitches persevere. To tell our family’s story.” Robby explained, brushing his thumb over the charm. “I never thought I would ever have a daughter to give it to.”

That’s when his eyes met yours. They glimmered with tears, but he smiled anyway. My God, it’s so beautiful when that boy smiles. You closed your hand over his, encasing the bracelet in between.

“What was her name?” You asked.

“Elisheba Rabinovitch. The “a” and the “o” were swapped around when she moved to America.” He explained.

“Elisheba.” You repeated. “Is it Hebrew?”

He nodded, unconsciously rubbing the pendant underneath his shirt. “Yeah. It translates to Elizabeth.”

“Was Rabinovitch always her last name?” You asked.

Robby nodded. “Her husband died before my dad was born, so her last name passed on to him.” He explained.

“Did she ever call you Robby?”

He laughed and shook his head. “Oh, no. Always Mikhael.” The Hebrew pronunciation rolled off his tongue with ease. “But I like being called Robby. It feels like I’m more connected to her in that way.”

You smiled and rested your head on his shoulder. “She would be so proud of you.” You noted.

Robby just hummed in acknowledgment, hopeful that your words were true. You moved his hand with yours to rest on your swelling stomach, pressing the tiny bracelet against it. As you held your daughter’s first gift in your joined hands, you decided on her name. You didn’t tell Robby then, but your mind had been made up.

Elizabeth Robinavitch.

—

A/N: I cannot WAIT to write the next chapter because Jack and Robby are gonna set up the baby’s nursery (or: how many ER attendings does it take to put a crib together?) 🥰

#Series: Daylight #Michael Robinavitch #Dr. Robby #Dr. Robby x you #Dr. Robby x reader #Dr. Robby x female reader #Girl dad!Dr. Robby #Dr. Robby angst #Dr. Robby fluff #Dr. Robby fanfiction #The Pitt fanfiction

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tedmustache · 2 months ago

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Doctor’s Orders

Pairing: Michael "Robbie" Robinavitch x Reader

Summary: Between long shifts, late-night triage, and the chaos of The Pitt, something quiet has been building between Dr. Robbie and Y/N. When one rough day pushes things to a breaking point, unspoken feelings come dangerously close to the surface and maybe neither of them is ready to pretend anymore.

Warnings: Mild medical content (ER setting, mentions of injuries, fever, collapse), Brief strong language

a/n: pure fluff with mutual pining, hope you like it

Requests are open | AO3 Link | Main Masterlist

[...]

The first time he hears you cough, he brushes it off.

The second time, during triage, while you’re elbow-deep in a gunshot wound and still somehow calm, he notices the hitch in your breath, the slight sheen on your forehead, and the way your voice cracks when you call for more gauze.

By the third time, he’s watching you too closely, and Collins catches him.

“You’re staring,” she mutters, handing him a chart. “Again.”

“I’m observing the technic” he replies, too quickly.

She smirks. “Uh-huh. Observing her technic of trying to sounds good even when she looks like she’s about to pass out?”

He tries not to react, but he’s already scanning the ER. You’re at the meds cabinet, hand braced against the wall like the world’s tilting.

Shit.

He crosses the floor before he realizes he’s moving, brushing past two residents and nearly knocking over a med student.

He reaches you just as your knees buckle slightly, nothing dramatic, just enough for concern and his hand catches your elbow.

“Whoa,” he says, a little breathless.

You blink up at him, eyes glassy.

“I’m fine,” you say, clearly lying.

He ignores that. “You’re flushed. And swaying.”

“I’m tired. Rough shift today”

“You’re burning up.”

Your mouth curls into a crooked smile. “Maybe it’s because you’re holding my arm.”

He really shouldn’t smile back.

But you’re you, and you say shit like that without realizing it drives him up the wall.

“Sit,” he says.

“Robbie—”

“That wasn’t a suggestion.”

He hears snickering behind him — Collins, probably — but he’s too focused on getting you to the empty gurney in the corner of the ER. He pulls the curtain shut. If anyone has something to say, they can say it later.

“You’re running a fever,” he says, snapping a thermometer under your tongue before you can argue again.

You roll your eyes, but let him work. He grabs a blanket, a bottle of water, and puts together a makeshift rest station like you’re one of his patients, which, technically, you are now.

He’s trying very hard not to look at how tired you are. Or how soft your expression gets when you realize he’s fussing over you.

“You’re off shift,” he says finally. “Doctor’s orders.”

You blink. “I’m not a patient.”

“You are today.”

“Are you going to tuck me in next?” you tease, smirking.

He pauses. “Do you want me to?”

There’s a beat of silence. Your eyes go wide. Behind the curtain, someone stifles a laugh — definitely Collins this time.

You swallow. “I think I can handle it.”

He nods, steps back.

His pulse is a mess.

“Hydrate. Sleep. If I catch you working before that fever breaks, I’m chaining you to the bed.”

“You’re very bossy when you care.”

That one knocks the air out of him for a second

“Just rest,” he says, and leaves before his expression gives anything away.

He doesn’t mean to hover.

Okay, maybe he does.

He checks on you twice. Three times. Maybe four. Brings you water, adjusts the blanket, shushes the interns when they get too loud.

You’re sleeping peacefully, curled on your side, cheeks flushed and hair falling across your face. You look… soft. Vulnerable.

Human, in a way people rarely get to be in The Pitt.

One of the drunk patients watching the whole thing apparently had enough and screams “You gonna sing her a lullaby, too?”

“Shut up” he mutters, not looking away "Someone discharge him, for god's sake"

He leaves a tray of food by your cot before he finishes his shift. Stale bread, mystery stew, and a single perfect pear. He was going to keep it. But then again, he was also going to not fall for the most competent, infuriating, stubborn doctor in the entire ER.

Too late now.

He scribbles a note on a scrap of paper and tucks it under the tray.

You forgot to eat. Again. - R

He doesn’t sign it with his full name. Doesn’t need to. You’ll know.

When you’re back on shift the next day, fever gone, voice rough but steady, he’s relieved. More than he should be.

You meet him in the hallway, lean casually against the wall.

“Thanks,” you say.

He raises an eyebrow. “For what?”

“The pear. The blanket. The whole, you know, aggressively caring thing.”

He shrugs. “I told you. Doctor’s orders.”

You smile. Slow and warm and devastating. “I think you care even when you’re off-duty.”

The same drunk patient snorts from down the hall. “Oh my God, just kiss already!”

You both freeze.

You open your mouth. Close it. Turn pink.

Robbie, somehow, stays composed. Barely.

“Don’t mind him” he mumbles annoyed

“I don’t.”

You glance up at him. Eyes soft, hopeful. For half a second, he thinks maybe, maybe, you’ll say something else.

Then an intern shouts about a bleeding patient in Bay 2, and the moment breaks.

You straighten, professionalism sliding back into place, but before you can walk off, Robbie reaches out, gently catching your wrist.

"Hey," he says, quietly. Just for you.

You stop. Look at him.

He hesitates. The hallway around you buzzes with footsteps, shouting, chaos. The usual.

But right here, with you, it's still.

"I do care when I’m off-duty," he says, voice low. “More than I probably should.”

Your eyes widen, but you don’t pull away. His fingers brush yours but not enough for anyone to see, but enough for you to feel it.

You smile, softer now. “You think I don’t?”

He huffs out a breath, not quite a laugh. “You’re impossible to read sometimes.”

“You’re impossible, period.”

You’re both smiling now. It’s ridiculous, almost in the middle of an ER, a trauma case probably seconds from crashing, but he doesn’t want to let the moment go.

"Look," you say suddenly, voice quieter, “I’ve been trying really hard to be professional about this, whatever this is, but the thing is…”

You trail off, shaking your head with a breathless laugh. “I think I’ve been falling for you since the shift with the twin stab wounds and the vending machine fire.”

He blinks. “That was—”

“—Four months ago,” you say. “I know.”

There’s a pause. Long enough for him to step just a little closer. His hand finding yours properly this time.

“I’ve been falling for you since you yelled at the trauma surgeon for calling you ‘nurse girl’” he says.

You laugh — really laugh — and he’s never been more gone.

“You gonna kiss me now?” you ask.

He does.

Right there in the hallway. Not dramatic, not performative. Just real.

Warm. A little rushed. A little messy. But exactly right.

You break apart a few seconds later, and your grin is pure sunlight. “Doctor’s orders?”

“Doctor’s orders,” he echoes.

The ER shouts around you. Someone yells something about a crash cart. Collins swears loudly in the distance.

You both glance toward Bay 2.

“Back to work?” you ask.

“For now.”

But as you both head back into the chaos, shoulders brushing, it’s clear something shifted.

Not just a moment anymore.

Something real. Finally said out loud.

And maybe, just maybe, the next time someone yells "just kiss already!", Robbie’ll just shrug and say:

“We already did.”

#the pitt #the pitt fanfic #michael robinavitch x reader #dr michael robinavitch x reader #dr robby #dr robby x reader #dr robby x you #fluff

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valentinevirgo · 1 month ago

Text

I HAVE A PROPOSAL

you get: medically accurate fanfic of your favorite pitt characters

i get: to use it as a way to study for my nursing final

DO WE HAVE A DEAL ??

#the pitt #the pitt hbo #jack abbot x reader #jack abbot #jack abbot fluff #jack abbot smut #michael robinavitch #michael robinavich x reader #the pitt x reader #dr robby x reader #dr robby fluff #dr robby smut #frank langdon #frank langdon x reader #the pitt max #mel king

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midniqhtt · 1 month ago

Text

michael robinavitch

masterlist • the pitt • 05/12/25

˚‧⁺ ･ ˖ · ୨ৎ recs

𑣲 angel kisses I @science-hoes

𑣲 a ray of fucking sunshine I @/science-hoes

𑣲 taste I @/science-hoes

Robby is fighting nicotine withdrawals, but the reader has something sweeter to curb the cravings.

𑣲 gorgeous I @/science-hoes

Robby loses in fantasy football and pays up. Somehow, his loss is making your life a lot more difficult.

𑣲 special treatment I @ovaryacted

𑣲 an itch you can’t scratch pt2 I @theonewiththefanfics

After taking a bad fall, Y/N gets rushed to the ED of Pittsburg Trauma Medical Hospital only to come face to face with a man she had a one-night stand with, and who ghosted her that same morning without a word - Dr. Michael "Robby" Robinavitch. As if her bad day couldn't get any worse than it was...

𑣲 married name I @tedmustache

Robbie decides to casually reveal their marriage in the most dramatic way possible.

𑣲 doctors orders I @/tedmustache

Between long shifts, late-night triage, and the chaos of The Pitt, something quiet has been building between Dr. Robbie and Y/N. When one rough day pushes things to a breaking point, unspoken feelings come dangerously close to the surface and maybe neither of them is ready to pretend anymore.

𑣲 triage I @/tedmustache

Amid the nonstop pressure of a Pitt emergency room, one nurse navigates long nights, relentless crises, and two doctors who are harder to read than any medical chart.

𑣲 residuals pt2 pt3 pt4 pt5 I @eureka-its-zico

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.

𑣲 devastation (daughter!reader) I @nineteenninety-six

The tragedgy at Pittfest brings brings a victim that devastates Dr Robby

𑣲 late night visits I @stellamarielu

somehow your neighbor is always finding himself at your front door hoping to find relief through casual hookups, but you both can’t deny your feelings any longer

𑣲 impatient intentions I @/stellamarielu

robby’s innocent obsession with his neighbor takes a turn after a dinner invite that leads him straight into your kitchen and renders him a slave to your touch

𑣲 work crush I @xximperioxx

𑣲 heartbeat pt2 pt3 I @asxgard

You get called in to assist with the mass casualty event on your day off and you’re grateful to be there when your husband finally breaks.

𑣲 companionship pt2 pt3 pt4 pt5 pt6 pt7 pt8 pt9 pt10 I @/asxgard

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

𑣲 a lesson in vulnerability pt2 I @/asxgard

A pregnancy scare forces you both to lay your cards on the table.

𑣲 be I @/asxgard

You had no intentions of falling for the sad-eyed attending on one of your rotations. And yet, here you are.

𑣲 feels like trouble I @thepencilnerd

You and Robby have been secretly dating for a while now. Most of the ER is clueless—except the five people who could probably write dissertations on your dynamic. Enter a frat boy med student with too much confidence and not enough self-awareness. Robby? Jealous. You? Oblivious. Everyone else? Watching the drama unfold like it's peak primetime television.

𑣲 cuddles in the on call room I @/thepencilnerd

𑣲 drunk confessions I @/thepencilnerd

You’re out drinking with your colleagues. Robby’s not there—until he is. What happens when you see each other again in the ER, and everything you said (or left unsaid) comes rushing back?

𑣲 chronic illness!reader I @/thepencilnerd

𑣲 the story never ends I @/thepencilnerd

From coffee and first glances to slow unraveling and quiet return—this is a story of love across changing seasons, of what’s lost, and what still lingers; healing is neither linear nor pretty, but it’s real—and sometimes, that's enough.

𑣲 dayshift nurse!reader I @/thepencilnerd

𑣲 sweet nothings I @thebestandworstdayofjune

you own a bakery down the street from PTMH, and Dr. Robby is one of your favorite customers. The night of The Pitt Fest shooting, you stress bake and deliver the results to the park near the hospital when you have a gut feeling everyone could use something to lift their spirits

𑣲 stay with me I @mercvry-glow

𑣲 a girls guide to shopping I @/mercvry-glow

𑣲 i start my mornings with folgers and hot, steamy sex I @spockiguess

Dr. Robby doesn't get to share many mornings with you, so when the day comes that he's finally able to spend just a little bit more time in your embrace, he doesn't pass on the opportunity to make it memorable.

𑣲 idiots doctors in love I @oceantornadoo

𑣲 rose scented scrubs I @/oceantornadoo

𑣲 i look in people's windows I @augustwinesworld

𑣲 message received I @abbotjack

𑣲 and you came back to me I @/abbotjack

𑣲 stitched together I @hauntedhowlett-writes

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

𑣲 lead the way I @traumaone

after over a year of pining over Robby, reader gets into a relationship to try and get over him, and gets cheated on. Robby (after putting up with a snippy reader) comes to the rescue

𑣲 keys I @/traumaone

Robby misses you, but lucky for him, you just so happened to leave your keys on his desk after your shift last night (or, you come by to pick up your keys and Robby feels you up in the ambulance bay)

𑣲 immature I @/traumaone

Robby loses his temper on you, and you're not quick to forgive, then tragedy strikes, and Robby's not answering his phone

𑣲 mature I @/traumaone

𑣲 the right moment is you I @cherriready

robby didn’t mean to propose today. not during a long shift, not without a plan, and definitely not in front of the ER. but when he saw her—cradling a toddler, keeping on a concussed mom, keeping calm in the chaos—he saw the rest of his life. no speeches. no perfect moment. just her. always her.

𑣲 drabble I @arrenjo

𑣲 touch I @a-soft-aside

You land yourself in the ER and Robby is the first face you see.

𑣲 positions I @/a-soft-aside

Your recent work trip is the longest time you and Robby have been apart since you two started dating. He’s thought of you non-stop and all the things he’s been wanting to do to you. He gives you a welcome home to remember.

𑣲 dark is the way, light is a place I @isaysexualthingsaboutrobinavitch

As a board-certified clinical psychologist working at PTMC, you were expecting to see patients of the hospital. But by some twist of fate, you end up seeing several ER doctors for individual therapy.

𑣲 Ho'oponopono I @ay0nha

where you make a mistake that leads to a probationary period full of observation hours, required counseling, and loathing for Dr. Robby, the very person who put you in this position.

𑣲 young gf!reader I @astreamofcolors

𑣲 safekeeping I @dexxtrosee

A baby got to the ER thirty minutes ago and hasn't stopped crying since. It's starting to get on everyone's nerves. He is, unfortunately, the one in charge, so it's his problem to deal with.

𑣲 drabble I @loveyhoneydovey

𑣲 in good hands I @blackleatherjacketz

You draw the short straw and have to work part of your shift in the ER, but Dr. Robby makes it a little more tolerable.

𑣲 night vision pt2 pt3 pt4 I @artibeus-lituratus

While dr. Frank Langdon is away while seeking treatment for his drug addiction, you're plucked from the loving arms of the night shift in order to replace him inside the crushing jaws of the day shift in the Pitt. Being a nocturnal creature with a closed-off personality, it's hard to adjust at first, especially when you're no longer working alongside your mentor (and father figure of sorts), dr. Jack Abbot. However, you slowly start to grow on the day shift's attending doctor, and it's up to Robby if he'll stay away from you to protect his heart, or if he'll give in to something that's bigger than a workplace crush.

𑣲 robby’s biological clock I @marvelslut16

Robby opens up to the reader that he realizes that he wants a child after finding out that he almost had one.

𑣲 gyltig I @strangunddurm

Michael has a secret that he was too guilty to tell anybody about. Especially Heather Collins.

𑣲 loathing you, my whole life long pt2 pt3 pt4 I @kisses4themissus

#michael robinavitch #michael robinavitch x reader #michael robinavitch x you #dr robby #robby robinavitch #doctor robby #dr robby x reader #doctor robby x reader #robby robinavitch x reader #dr robby x you #dr robby x y/n #the pitt #the pitt fic recs #michael robinavitch fic recs #michael robinavitch smut #michael robinavitch angst #michael robinavitch fluff

741 notes · View notes

allllium · 23 days ago

Text

Just a Bit of Fun

[ Jack Abbot x Reader ]

~ Fluff, WC: 3749

~ Prequel: The Guy at The Bar

~ Mostly gender neutral but there is a section using female pronouns, pls let me know if you want another version with other pronouns

-------------- banner coming soon -------------

- Reader is keeping a big secret from Dana, accidentally.

Fortunately, the ER today has been pretty slow. Not that you'll say out loud but only a couple people are left out in chairs. You're struggling to get a snack out of the vending machine. Everyone knows this one is a money thief but it's the only one with your favorite snack.

While you're distracted, Dana uses it as an opportunity to talk to Robby about her newest issue within the ER. It's not a real issue at all, but no one dares to say it to her face.

"Call me old school, but I don't understand it." She says, just directly out of your earshot.

"Well-" He begins, but obviously Dana cuts him off quick.

"Don't you call me anything with the word old in it."

"Oh, I wouldn't dream of it." Robby chuckles. "I don't get it either but it's not any of our business." He knows exactly what she's talking about. It's the only thing he's heard from her in a couple days now.

"Of course it is. This is my ER, all of its my business." He doesn't contridict that it's her ER, but he can't stop his grin at her dramatics.

"Stop being a gossip." He lectures her as usual. Of course it's not her fault, she gets bored.

"Hey, you want to know too. Don't even deny it."

"Obviously I want to know but I'm not gonna sneak around behind their backs." That and he knows more than he'll let Dana see. She'll have his head on a silver platter if she finds out you told him before her.

"What are we gossiping about?" You whisper from behind them. Not meaning to sneak up on them but they were standing right in your path.

"You're just as bad as Dana." Robby rolls his eyes at you. He does that a lot.

"Don't be talking shit out in the open if you don't want me to be curious." You tell him in a lecturing tone. "That's on you, Buddy."

"We were not talking shit." He hates when you call him buddy, that's why you do it. Robby isn't usually one to talk shit but on a few occasions you've caught it happening.

"Uh huh, quick defense there." You smile at his dramatic huff. Once you get to him, he's not nearly as intimidating. Now you can poke fun at him all you want.

He doesn't grace with you a verbal response before giving up and walking away.

"He's no fun." Dana mutters under her breath. You look over in her direction, forgetting she was there for a moment. You should know better, she's always there.

"That's okay, we're fun enough for him too." You walk around the counter to sit down and take a breath for a moment, while you can.

"What are you doing here, kid? I barely ever see you in the daylight." She takes a seat in the chair next to you.

"Filling in for Collins. Robby asked me to while she's on vacation. Night shift will do without me for a bit." You fidget by moving back and forth in the chair. You and Collins have bonded a lot through the years. The nature of her vacation isn't a happy one.

"I don't know." She immediately disagrees. "Abbot might fall apart without you by his side."

You can see the mischievous smile forming.

"What's that supposed to mean?" You turn quickly to face her head on.

"You know what I mean, I never see one of you without the other."

"He's not here right now is he? Besides we work different days a lot."

"Not if it's up to the two of you." She shrugs with a laugh.

"We work well together." You deflect in disbelief. What is she getting at right now?

"I bet you'd be good at a lot of other things together too." She keeps her head down as she says it, you know she's struggling to get the words out through her laugh.

"Dana it is way too early in the morning for you to be saying stuff like that." You tell her in astonishment. "Have you no shame?"

It takes her a full moment to stop laughing at her own words. You get the urge to walk away but you know she'd chase you down.

"I'm just saying, you two would be good together."

"Dana. You can't be encouraging me to have sex with my boss."

"Why not? It's never hurt nobody."

"I am walking away from this conversation right now."

"C'mon, hon, just live a little." She calls after you.

You shake your head harshly as you walk away and her laugh echos through the hall.

You know neither you nor Jack have actually told anyone other than Robby that your together, but you didn't think she would still be this oblivious.

You can't explain why you played along instead of coming out with the truth. At this point, you might as well have fun with it.

The next day, Dana seems to be just as determined to get answers as the last. Your reactions to her teasing certainly didn't help.

"I don't see what the big deal is." You and Dana are sitting in the lounge, trying to eat lunch while there's not too much work to be done. Knock on wood this next couple days will follow a similar pattern. "We work together so what? You and Robby work together all the time and I'm not pushing you two into each other." She immediately gives you a look of disgust.

"Don't even try that, it's different and you know that. Robby and I don't look at each other the way you guys do."

"We don't look at each other like anything other than good coworkers." You tell her confidently, perhaps taking the joke too far. Honestly if she hasn't figured it out by now, that's on her.

"You are so full of shit."

"I think the older you get, the crazier you get too."

"Did you seriously just call me old and crazy in the same sentence?"

"Hey I just call it like I see it." You raise your hands in a joking defense.

"Abbot's a good looking guy, I know you see that." She wiggles her eyebrows at you.

"Well I'm not gonna deny that."

"So why not take the chance? It doesn't have to be anything serious."

"I like things how they are." You shrug and pay more attention to your food than necessary.

Whatever she's about to say next is cut off by McKay running in.

You're not paying attention to anything they're saying but Dana rushes out quickly and leaves McKay standing in the doorway. Robby probably needed her help with something.

"Are you fucking with her?" Mckay laughs as she looks at you curiously.

"So I'm guessing you know?"

"You guys are very obvious. Has she not gotten it yet?" You get up to throw away your lunch trash while she talks.

"Apparently not. I guess she figured I was single and Robby didn't tell her otherwise." You shrug and walk with McKay through the hall.

"Strange considering he's such a gossip."

"That's what I'm saying!"

"Oh that's a really pretty ring." You're standing by your locker when Dana appears. It's day three of her pushing for answers and one of those rare times where you get off on time.

"Huh." You look down and see the ring Dana is referring to. It's on a chain around your neck that must've come out while leaning over so much throughout the day. "Oh thanks, I didn't realize it was out." You quickly tuck it back into your shirt, before Dana asks too many questions.

"What kind of stone is that? It doesn't look like diamond." Of course she's gonna ask a lot of questions.

"Oh it's not, I can never remember the exact name of this one but I'm not a huge fan of diamonds." You explain while grabbing your other clothes out so you can get home as quick as possible.

"Why do you wear it on a necklace?" She asks in a knowing manner.

"Cause' knowing this place it would get lost or ruined otherwise. I'd do it with my other ones too but I wear a million of them." No lie in that statement.

"So why wear it instead of keeping it with the rest?"

"It's my favorite. I just like having it so close to me." Also not a lie.

"That makes sense, it is really pretty." She turns to pull stuff out of her own locker.

"Thanks. Uh, you have any plans after this?" You try to change the topic as casual as possible.

"Lots of sleep hopefully."

"I think that's all we can hope for at this point." You also want to go home and sleep. Especially because the house will be empty all night.

"Sleep well kid."

"See you bright and early." As soon as you're changed, you walk out and leave Dana to herself.

You give a quick goodbye to Robby, who of course hasn't even gotten close to finishing up yet. And then make your way outside when you're greeted with a familiar face.

"How was it today?" He asks from his position leaning against the wall.

"Not to bad. I think you should have okay night." You smile at him which shows off just how tired you are.

"I hope so."

"Well, I guess I'll see you in the morning." You say with a saddened tone.

"Goodnight Dr. Abbot." He pulls you in for a swift hug.

"Goodnight- or goodmorning, Dr. Abbot. Whatever it is to you right now."

"Go home and sleep, you need it."

"Sounds good to me." You pull away from him and both go your separate ways.

"I can't believe it." Dana exclaims just moments after you left. She immediately found Robby to talk to about what she just saw.

"What are you on about now?" He sighs as he always does when putting up with the gossips in the ER, especially Dana's.

"She was wearing an engagement ring, oh how did we miss this?" She seems personally offended by this piece of information.

Robby tries as hard as he can to hide his grin. He didn't miss anything, but again, Dana would have his head if she knew.

"That's why she's been so put off by the idea of going out with Abbot."

"Maybe she's just not interested in him. She wears a lot of rings that could pass as engagement rings. You probably just saw it wrong." He tries to offer a reasonable solution. One that doesn't make her even more invested in your romance life.

"No, it was different than the other ones. And she was wearing all day under her shirt. People don't do that with any old ring." She follows behind him as he walks around trying to finish off his work for the night.

"Why didn't you just ask her about it? She has no reason to lie." He comes to your defense.

"I did! Discreetly but the point still stood. She just said it was her favorite." She comes off even more exasperated than before.

"And you don't believe her because?"

"She is not good at coming up with excuses, I can always tell when she's trying to come up with something on the spot."

"Dana, please take this advice I'm about to give you seriously. Calm down a little bit. If she's hiding something it's for a good reason."

"What reason would be good enough to not tell me?"

"Ask her." He practically begs.

She gasps suddenly, "Maybe Abbot knows."

For the ten millionth time that day, Robby rolls his eyes.

"She knows." You resign as he walks in the door.

"Who knows what?" You hear him move around the living room as he puts everything down from the night.

"Dana. I don't know what she knows but it's something."

"Okay? And this is an issue because?" He walks into the kitchen to greet you as he talks.

"You're the one that insisted on hiding this." You lean into him as he puts his arms around your waist.

"At first. If you want to tell Dana go ahead."

"I can't! It would be weird now. It's been years at this point." He chuckles from behind you.

"I don't think it's a big deal."

"So says you. You work the night shift, you don't deal with Dana's craziness like I do."

"You'll be back on night shift soon enough."

"Oh honey, it's funny you think that'll stop her."

He let's go of you to grab something to eat.

"I know it won't. But I'm not the one dealing with it."

"Be nice to me, Jack. I'm struggling here." You're being totally dramatic about it but oh well at this point.

"How dare she care about your life outside of work." He says blankly as he focuses on finding food.

"You're not gonna find anything in there, we need to go shopping."

He shuts the cupboard and focuses more on you. "I think I'll bring you lunch later."

"Honey, you need to sleep longer than a couple hours."

He rolls his eyes, "No I don't."

You head to the living room to grab the rest of your stuff for your shift.

"You don't need to bring me lunch, I'll get something." He follows you into the room and sits down on the couch.

"It might help with your Dana issue."

"Shes gonna hurt me, isn't she? She's a lot stronger than she looks "

"Most likely."

"Good to see how concerned you are."

"I try my best." You laugh at his words and finish grabbing your stuff before pausing for a moment.

"Wait a minute, why are you here so early. You're shift isn't over yet?"

He glances up at you for a second before looking back at the TV.

"Did you clock out early so you wouldn't overlap with Dana coming in?"

"Of course not."

You burst out laughing. He gives you an unimpressed stare.

"Okay sweetie, whatever you say." It's hard to believe this is the most intimidating guy in the ER. "If she wants to get you, she will."

You let out an embarrassing yelp as Dana quickly grabs your arm and pulls you into the empty on call room.

"Was that really necessary?" You exclaim while she shuts the door behind you both.

"Yes, I want the truth." She crosses her arms over her chest and stares at you pointedly.

"Don't we all." You sigh dramatically.

"Seriously, kid. Who gave you that ring? I know it's an engagement ring. I looked it up." You roll your eyes at her. Of course she's still on this.

"I didn't know you knew how to do that." You mumble under your breath and throw your arms across your chest.

"Don't sass me or I'll tell everyone."

"Tell them what? You don't know anything." She squints her eyes as she thinks of what to say next.

"I'm going figure it out. We can do this the easy way or the hard way."

"Dana, I'm not scared of you."

"Yes you are."

"I spend every night working with Abbot. You are not on his level of intimidation." You shake your head with a smile at her reaction to this whole situation.

You're not entirely sure why this is something she's so determined to figure out but it fills your day with a tiny bit of entertainment.

"Just tell me." She demands, staring into your soul.

"Okay fine, I'm married alright. Is that what you wanted to hear?"

Her face shows a mixture of confusion and happiness. Clearly she's glad to finally have a good answer.

"To who??"

"I have already given you more than enough." You brush her off and begin to leave the room she pulled you into.

"You're seriously not gonna tell me?

"I am seriously not gonna tell you."

"Wait, how long have you been hiding this?" She opens her mouth in shock.

"I haven't been hiding anything, you never asked. But it's been about three years now."

"You've only been here for two years. No wonder you've been so weird about Jack." She mutters to herself like she's finally putting the pieces together.

"Next time you won't assume I'm single will you?"

"No I will not." She laughs.

You walk off assuming that's the end of this particular conversation. You're not that lucky.

"So how does your husband feel about your relationship with Abbot?" She sounds very concerned. How the fuck is she not getting it right now?

"Well honestly he's not super fond of him." Why do you continue to make things harder for yourself. This would all be over if you didn't listen to Jack in the first place.

You know he was right to suggest it at first. Coming to work in a new place is hard enough without people knowing you're married to your new boss.

You really thought people would figure it out by now. But of course people never wanted to accuse either of you of anything, so they keep conversations quiet and didn't ask any questions loud enough for you to hear.

"I wonder why?" She asks sarcastically. She clearly sees something between you and Jack. What will it take for her to see what that something is?

"You are officially on my shit list!" Dana yells from down the hall.

"Oh yay." You whisper sarcastically. "What'd I do now?" You call back down to her.

"Someone is here to see you." She smiles scarily and pulls you by the arm for the second time today.

"Oh is my food here?" You're excited to finally eat and see Jack during the day. Although he's gonna get a very big earful about the importance of enough sleep, especially with a job as grueling as this.

"Yeah and you'll never believe who brought it to you." Sarcasm drips from her voice.

"The magic food fairy?" She's not impressed. You think it sums him up pretty well.

"Abbot. Dr. Jack Abbot. The man who worked all night and should be sleeping all day is instead here bringing you food. Why is that?"

"Do you need to sit for a minute? You seem a little worked up."

"I do not need to sit, I need to hear the explanation you two have been hiding from me." You accidentally let out a small chuckle at her antics. You don't know why this means so much to her.

"Why do you need an explanation for me to get my lunch?"

"First you hide your marriage-" You interrupt her quickly.

"I didn't hide anything."

"Then you admit your husband isn't real fond of Jack."

"Oh honey, you're getting so close." Will this be the moment she finally puts all the pieces together?

You look up to see Jack standing at the nurses station, smiling softly at you as you walk up. It's not big enough for most people to notice. Dana clearly, is not most people.

She stops walking, causing you to slightly bump into her back.

She turns around slowly to face you.

"Surprise?" You reveal, hoping she's finally figured out what's going on.

While she stands in her surprise, you walk over to your husband.

"I told you not to do this." You immediately reprimand him.

"Dana's glaring daggers at the back of your head." Is his simple response.

"Oh let her. She's having some big feelings and you don't get to change the subject that easily." You grab your food out of his hands.

"We haven't seen each other as much lately. Can't I do something nice?" He asks innocently.

"Don't act like you didn't want to see Dana's reaction." You place the food on the counter next to you so you can cross your arms over your chest. It's your power stance.

"What can I say? Karma for being a gossip."

You laugh aloud. "Says you! You listen to everything the nurses talk about and ask me about it later."

"That's not the same." You scoff at his denial.

"Uh huh, whatever you have to tell yourself sweetie." You smile widely at him. Suddenly feelings just how much you've missed him over these last couple days. "Go home and sleep. It's my last day on day shift for now."

"Good. Night shift goes a lot smoother when you're there."

"Aww are you saying you missed me?" You take a step closer to him and his awkwardness.

"No." What a motherfucker.

"Oh I see how it is." You feel Dana's presence come up beside you. "Get some good sleep so we can spend time together without you being such a grump."

"I am never a grump." He defends, his lip curling up just a smudge.

"Wow you're just full of jokes tonight, I see." He gives you a kiss on your head to hide his smile in your hair.

"Have a good shift." He tells you and gives a small nod to Dana before walking out the door.

"So? Figure it out yet?"

"How in the hell did I not know this?" She exclaims softly almost like she's saying it to herself.

"You never asked. No one did." You shrug with a chuckle.

"How long have you been together? He never mentioned anything." She plops down in a chair to continue the conversation.

"He's protective. He thought it would make things harder if people knew I was married to my new boss." You sit in chair next to her. You look around and see all the other doctors currently occupied.

"So as long as you've been here?" She chuckles quietly realizing all she missed over the years.

"Married for three years, together for six. We met at a bar when he was drinking in his sorrows." You remember the memory fondly. "I was gonna tell you when I realized you didn't know, but for some reason it didn't come out."

She laughs loudly at that. Loud enough that a patient to the left gave her a weird look.

"That makes sense. I'm just glad you're not having some weird affair with Jack."

"It's not an affair but it's definitely weird."

"Ha! Eat your lunch kid. I'm gonna hound you for details later." She stands up and gives you a pat on the shoulder.

"Wouldn't expect anything less."

~ low-key wanna write about how they met 🤔

615 notes · View notes

leo-in-the-pitt · 21 days ago

Text

Until The End

This is Chapter 3 of the Beginning to End series !

Summary: With your 2 year anniversary coming up with Dr. Jack Abbot, you’re trying to figure out his secret plans and see if you can get over the final hurdle in your relationship before it's too late.

Warnings: Established relationship, age gap (unspecified but reader late 20s, Abbotts an old man), beginning is all fluff but the end is something else, strong language, sexual tension, unprotected p in v sex, fingering, handjob/blowjob, all the dirty stuff tbh

Word Count 8.8K+, was shooting for 10k but I'll take it

Until The End

Monday

You caught Jack talking to Robby that Monday afternoon. Both of you were busy obviously planning something for your 2 year anniversary. He was the absolute worst at keeping secrets but, apparently when it came these plans he had nothing to say.

He ordered some pizza that night for dinner and you two sat next to each other on the couch. He seemed on edge, not making much conversation. He usually never shuts up during movies. He kept checking his phone and you could see him typing but, didn’t bring it up.

“You sure you’re alright Jack?”

He had a mouthful of pizza. “Yeah why?”

“You’re acting really sketchy.”

“I’m just trying to eat my pizza.”

“Mhm, so what exactly is the plan for Friday?”

“I already told you, it’s a surprise. Stop trying to spoil it for yourself.”

“Well you know that I hate surprises. I’m a planner Jack. I need to know what we’re doing. What am I supposed to wear?”

“I already told you I picked an outfit out for you.”

“Okay but what if it doesn’t fit? Or I don’t look good in it? There is an outfit right? You’re not just trying to get me naked?”

“Well, now that you mention it, that’s not too bad of an idea.”

“You’re just full of jokes tonight aren’t you Abbott?”

Everybody called him Abbott, only you called him Jack, unless you were annoyed with him.

“Oh, now I’m Abbott?” He nodded his head in disbelief.

“Until I know what we’re doing Friday, you’re Abbott.”

“Look who has the jokes now.”

You let the topic go for the rest of the night. But if there was one thing about you, you weren’t going to let this go. He would hear about it again.

———————————————————————

Tuesday

It was always a bit of a habit to go out for food together at least once a week. You both hated cooking and doing the dishes so this ended up being one of the easiest compromises in the past 2 years.

You typically ended up at your favorite diner, which he was most definitely tired of but, it kept you happy so he kept going. It was around noon when you arrived to the diner with him. Both ordering your usual without even needing the menus.

“You want to spilt a milkshake?”

“But you never want one?”

“Yeah but, I know that you do. And I’m feeling extra nice in this moment.”

“What are you doing? Making sure I don’t leave you before we hit 2 years?”

“Yeah I’m just buttering you up since there’s actually no plans for Friday.”

“You’re really pushing it Abbott, you know that?”

“You know you love it.” He said with his crooked smirk that drove you wild even after all this time.

You said nothing just shook your head at him. But don’t worry, you got your milkshake.

Once you got home it was already time to start getting ready for a nap since you’d be working 2 night shifts back to back with each other before your anniversary. Maybe you could find out if he told anybody else about his secret plans.

You were dragging after your 3 hour power nap. No amount of sleep was ever going to be enough for you. But Abbott, of course, was already bouncing off the walls ready to leave.

“We’re going to be late because of you.” He yelled from the kitchen.

“Forgive me for wanting to cover up my under eye bags Abbott.”

“You gonna call me Abbott at work too?”

“Depends, are you going to tell me the plans?”

He rolled his eyes, “I’ll be in the car waiting for you.” And he walked out of the apartment.

Once you got to work, of course you had to go say hi to Langdon.

“What’s up kid?” He put out his hand for your handshake.

“I’m on a mission tonight.”

“Oh god that’s never a good thing.”

“First of all the last mission I went on here was to get Abbott, and I succeeded so I’m trying again tonight.”

“Wa- wait, did you just call him Abbott? What happened?” His eyes widening.

“He’s Abbott until I know what Fridays plan is.”

Yet another man rolling his eyes at you tonight. “Why are you trying to ruin the fun?”

“I hate surprises Langdon, like I despise them. It’s eating me alive slowly and painfully. Like look at him over there whispering with Robby.” You looked over and squinted while waving at the two of them.

Robby waved back laughing and Abbott just shook his head without cracking a smile. “They’re probably talking about it. Do you know anything?” You turned to him with puppy dog eyes.

“I already told you, no. You’re my best friend and Robby is his best friend, why don’t you go ask him?” He shrugged.

“You know what? You’re right. Maybe I should, I’ll be right back!” You skipped over to Robby and Abbott.

“Oh shit, I was just kidding.” He yelled but, you were already gone.

You marched yourself over across the ER to the nurses station they were standing behind. Basically skipped over, smiling like a child.

“What’s the hot gossip boys?”

“I know nothing. I have nothing to say. I’m going home to my wife. Have a good night you two.” He waved directly at you, smiling. And he was gone.

You glared over at Abbott. “What did you do tell everyone not to talk to me until Friday?”

“That’s exactly what I did. Nobody knows anything anyway but, I don’t want them putting ideas into that mind of yours.”

The rest of the night was hectic. No more chances to trick anyone into spilling details. Not even a chance to sit down. You decided to give a rest, at least for the night.

———————————————————————

Wednesday

He seemed different on the drive to work, glancing out the window, his mind racing with plans and details of the Friday plans, before forcing a calm smile as you asked him if he was okay. He was feeling guilty for not letting you in on the secret yet, but you had no idea.

“I’m telling you, I’m so ready for this week to be over.”

Each night that you worked together, when things would slow down, even just slightly, you find each other to sit down for a quiet moment to catch up on charting.

Jack taps his fingers on the desk nervously, the clock ticking by slowly. He’s been planning the surprise for weeks, and now, the moment is almost here. But his mind was all over the place. He starts typing up a note, clearly not paying attention to what keys he was hitting.

You glare over at his screen. Words underlined in red and blue. Mistakes written all over the page.

“Hey, what’s up with you?” You sat back and glared at him. His mind clearly somewhere else.

No response. For a moment, he’s lost in the thought of how his life is about to change.

“Earth to Abbott?” You waved your hand directly in front of his face.

“What happened?” His head sharply turned to you.

You pointed to his screen. “What’s going on there? Forgot how to type?”

He rubs both eyes. Took a deep sigh. “Guess I’m just really tired tonight.”

“Wow, you tired? Never.”

———————————————————————

Thursday

Tomorrow’s the big day. 2 years down, hopefully forever to go.

You were absolutely exhausted after the past 2 nights. But to flip your sleep schedule you were only planning a quick nap. Abbott on the other hand was basically ready for another shift.

“I will never understand how you require so little sleep.”

“And I don’t know how you need so much.”

He cooked you dinner, dishes are still in the sink. Sitting on the couch, a candle flickering on the coffee table, soft music playing in the background. Music from a playlist you’ve been adding to since you were a teenager in high school. It was filled with cheesy love songs, songs that you wanted at your future wedding.

“Can you believe it’s been almost two years?” You said laying your head on his chest.

“I know. Feels like it flew by yet also like I’ve known you my whole life. I still remember our first official date, how nervous we both were.” He caressed your hair out of your face.

“You kept fiddling with your napkin the entire time."

“Hey, I was trying to impress you. Clearly, it worked well enough to keep you around all this time. I was trying so hard not to mess anything up. You were just sitting there, looking as beautiful as ever. It was intimidating.”

"I was nervous too! But honestly, the moment you started talking, I felt so at peace. Like I knew I was in the right place with you. I didn’t think even for a second that we’d end up here, like this, happier than ever.”

“I think that was the moment I knew. Something about you, just made sense. Just remember thinking, 'I really hope this isn’t the only date.'"

“And here we are, two years later.”

"And I wouldn’t trade a second of it. That night changed everything. You changed my life in all the best ways. I didn’t even know what I needed that until I met you.”

“I feel safe here in your arms. I could stay here with you forever and be completely okay.” You leaned up to kiss him. “So tomorrow’s the big day. Got anything special planned Abbott? This is your last chance to tell me!” You said while looking into his big green eyes.

“Those big beautiful brown eyes of your will get your anywhere if you try hard enough. But not tonight babygirl, not tonight.”

“I don’t quit Abbott!”

“I’m just gonna keep it simple. Just us being together. Nobody else.”

———————————————————————

Friday

You slept for 12 hours straight Thursday night into Friday. You were woken by the smell of breakfast cooking.

Still half asleep you said, “Oh god he’s going to burn the apartment down.” You quickly hoped out of bed. Wearing his clothes already, you grabbed a pair of socks out of his drawer, of course, and headed towards the kitchen.

As you walked out of the bedroom, the morning light streamed through the windows of the apartment. The clinking of plates and kitchen utensils filled the room. Your eyes light up at the sight in front of you.

Pancakes, fruit, freshly brewed coffee, and the biggest bouquet of red roses you’ve ever seen. Balloons tied all around the apartment. A gift box in the middle of the kitchen island. And Abbott standing there smiling at you, ear to ear. His silver curls shined in the rising sun beaming through the shades. Still in the same clothes he went to sleep in. White t-shirt and gray boxers.

God, how are you going to get through the day with him looking like that? You thought to yourself.

“What’s all this for?”

“Haha you’re so funny.”

“I got jokes too. But really, happy anniversary to my favorite guy on the planet. I love you.”

“Happy anniversary babygirl. Love you more than you know.”

“Homemade breakfast? On our anniversary? You really are a professional at this ‘romance’ thing huh? Why do I feel like there’s more going on here than just pancakes?”

Next thing you know his hands were on your neck pulling you for a kiss. It was passionate. The type of kiss you don’t want to ever stop. But he pulled away first.

“I wasn’t done with you.” You said.

“You’ll get more later, don’t worry.”

“You’ve outdone yourself already Abbott”

“Still Abbott huh?”

“Maybe you’ll earn your name back by the end of the day.”

“Oh, I plan on it.” In a lowered tone, “I’ll be hearing it nice and loud tonight.” Again with that smirk.

“What did you just say?”

“Don’t worry about it.”

Oh you heard him loud and clear. You just wanted him to say it directly to you.

“Here.” He picked the gift box up off the table and handed it to you. “Just a little something to start the day with. Don’t worry, there’ll be way more later.”

You unwrapped the box slowly. A small jewelry box. Oh shit, this better not be a ring right here, right now.

You opened it. A necklace. Golden with his initial and birthstone.

“So everybody knows that you’re mine. Needed you to have something special, something you can keep close to your heart.”

“Oh my god. Put it on my right now.”

You took the necklace out of the box, handed it to him and turned around. He brushed your hair out of the way, gently rubbing the back of your neck. Shivers went down your back. You could feel him just centimeters away from you. Nothing separating your bodies except the thin fabric.

God you were touched deprived.

You turned back around to him while holding onto the necklace. “I love it Jack.”

“Ah, I get my name back.” He smiled.

“For now at least.” You tilted your head at him.

“Wait let me go grab your gift!” You ran back into the room to get his present.

"Whispering as low as he could get, "I'll be hearing my name loud from you tonight." You could here him laughing from the kitchen.

"What did you just say?", you yelled from the bedroom. No response.

“Here!” You were so proud to hand it to him.

Two small boxes. “Which should I open first?

“This one! Not as poetic as your gift but just open it."

He opened up the box to reveal the watch.

“Holy shit!” He looked up at you. “You shouldn’t have.”

“New salary is treating me well I guess. Take it out! Look at the back!”

He took it out of the box to see the dates engraved. The day you met and the day you started dating.

“I figured no matter where you go, you’d have a little piece of us with you. Plus, I just thought it’d look amazing on you."

“Can’t wait to show this off at work.” He immediately put it on his left wrist.

“Well, just don’t get blood all over it though. Come on open the other one!”

This one with a last second buy when you were leaving the jewelry store. A chain to perfectly match the watch. You’d been telling him since you got together how good he’d look with one on but, he never got one.

“I guess great minds think alike huh?” He winked at you. “Well now you have to put it on me.” He handed it to you and turned around. As quietly as he possibly could, he muttered, “You’ll be seeing this up close later.”

“Why the hell do you keep doing that?”

“Doing what?” He laughed.

“Mumbling under your breath! It’s driving me crazy! What did you just say?”

“Are you going crazy? I didn’t say anything!”

Rolling your eyes at him you said, “So, now what’s the plan Abbott?”

“Really with the Abbott again? Really?”

“Stop mumbling and speak up then.”

“Well the plans don’t start until later, so I just want us to spend this time together, enjoying each other’s company, away from all other distractions.”

“Sound perfect to me!”

The day went on, spending time watching each other’s favorite movies, listening to music while dancing around the apartment. Time slipped away with him.

He stretched as he got up off the couch, “Should probably start getting ready now.”

You went to shower first. Then he went.

“So where’s this special outfit?”

“I left it hanging on the closet door. Shoes are in there too. Let me just go grab my clothes and then you can get dressed in there and I’ll get dressed out here.”

You went into the bedroom and took the dress out of the bag it was hanging in.

“Abbott!”, you ran out into the living room where he was getting changed.

He was pulling up his black dress pants, blue briefs underneath. Leaving no room for imagination and showing you everything you have been missing. Zipper, button, and belt all still undone. His undershirt was still lying over the couch. You’d seen him shirtless all the time but, right now, your mind began to wonder.

You licked and bite your lip not realizing that you were just staring at his bare chest. His hand slid into his pants to straighten out his briefs.

“Did you come here to say something or just to see me half naked?”

You were able to rip your eyes away from his body for just one second. “Both apparently. Uhm when did you find the time to go get this?” You held up the dress.

It was dress you saw a woman wearing a few weeks earlier and became obsessed with, even asking her where she got it from. White with blue flowers, thin strips, open in the back, slit down the right leg. You never found the time to go see it in person. But he did.

“I knew you wouldn’t go back for it. So I did. The day after you first saw it. Figured it’d be perfect for the occasion.

You turned around to start walking away. “Well you’re gonna be taking it off me tonight.” You whispered.

Abbott started laughing. “What’d you just say to me?”

“Nothing!” You ran into the bedroom and shut the door behind you.

Since he decided to surprise you wet the dress, you put on a surprise for him underneath.

He even laid out your white sandals with a slight heel. He was still a whole head taller than you.

“Can’t believe we’re finally going out. I’ve been looking forward to this all week."

Glancing over at you, grinning, “Wow, you look incredible, I think I’m going to have a hard time keeping my eyes off you tonight."

Laughing lightly, turning to face him, “Oh really? Well, I might need to make sure you’re paying attention to where we’re going, because you might get distracted."

He stepped closer, lightly touching your arms, “I think I’ll be okay but I might need a little reminder of how lucky I am to have you by my side." "Well, I’m lucky to have you too. Just don’t be surprised if I end up stealing all of your attention tonight.”

His eyes on you "Trust me, it won’t be hard. I don’t think I could ever take my eyes off you."

"Let’s see if you still feel that way after a whole night.”

He looked down at the time on his new watch. “Shit, we better get going to make the reservation. You might want to take a sweater or something, probably going to be a little chilly out later tonight?”

“Oh, so you’re going to take me somewhere outside then?”

“You’re killing me babygirl.”

“Let me go grab something then.”

You ran back into the bedroom, opening the closet door. Scrambling for one specific item. Putting your arm all the way in you found it.

The Beers of the Burgh zip up sweater.

Jack shoved it all the way in the back corner of the closet after your assault, making sure you wouldn’t have to see it. But you were ready to wear it again tonight.

“Okay, I’m ready!”

“What is that?”

You walked up to him and held out the sweater.

“Are you sure?”

“I feel completely safe with you Jack. I’m ready to fully move past it.”

He gave you a light kiss on the cheek, “Let’s go then babygirl.”

All the way down to the car, you pestered him to tell you where it was exactly you were going. He wouldn’t budge.

“Maybe I’m taking you somewhere completely unexpected. I guess you’ll just have to trust me."

Laughing, playfully narrowing your eyes, “I do trust you more than anything, but now I’m really curious. Should I be excited or nervous?"

He smiled mischievously, “Definitely excited. Trust me, you’re going to love it. But I promise, it’s not whatever you’re thinking."

You leaned back in the seat, raising an eyebrow "You’re making me even more curious now. Are we going somewhere fancy? A secret restaurant? Or are you about to whisk me off to a secret adventure?"

"Maybe a little bit of everything. But tonight is about enjoying the surprise and you’re going to have the time of your life.”

Excitement took over your body. "Okay, okay, I’m all in. I guess I’ll just enjoy the ride and see where it takes me."

He reached over and giving your hand a squeeze "That’s the spirit. I can’t wait to see your face when we get there."

He parked the car and you finally underwent he was excited for you to find out the surprise.

“Wait, is this the place? Oh my fucking god Jack! This is the place I’ve telling you about for months now!”

Smiling and glancing over at you, "Yeah, this is it. I knew you’d love it. Trust me, you’re going to be impressed."

“I talked about it so much but never even looked at their menu!”

"You’ll find out soon enough. All I’m saying is, they have some of the most interesting dishes. I couldn’t wait to bring you here."

Holding out his hand to you, “Come on, let’s go inside. And I promise, this is just the beginning of a perfect night."

You took his hand with a smile, "Okay, I’m officially excited. If the food is half as good as the surprise, we’re in for a treat."

You’ve were seated at an elegant table inside the restaurant, and you’re both soaking in the ambiance.

You looked around, amazed, "Wow, this place is gorgeous! I can’t believe you got a reservation here! They literally have a Michellin star Jack!”

Smiling as he watched your reaction. "I’m glad you like it. I thought it would be the perfect spot for tonight. I wanted the night to feel just as special as you are.”

Looking at him with a soft smile you said, "You really know how to make a girl feel special. I’m already having the best time, and we haven’t even started eating yet."

Softly laughing, “That’s the plan. Just wait until the food comes, trust me, it’ll make the night even better."

“If the food is as good as the surprise, I’ll be asking you to pick all our date spots from now on."

“I’m happy to take that responsibility if it means making you smile like this all the time.”

After spending 3 hours in the restaurant, you could see the sun beginning to set outside.

"That was absolutely incredible. I can’t believe you did this. It was perfect!”

“I’m glad you liked it. But, the night’s not over yet. There’s one more surprise I’ve got in store for you."

Your eyes widened. "Wait, another surprise? I’m not sure I can handle any more excitement tonight Jack!”

“You can handle it, trust me. I promise you’re going to love it.”

“God, I hate surprises but, I think you’re beginning to change my mind.”

He took your hand as you walked out the door. “Good. You deserve it. Just wait it’ll be worth it at the end”

Right before he opened the car door for you, he stopped.

“I need you to do something for me first.”

“I’m listening.”

“I need you to put this on.”

He reached into his pocket and pulled out a long strip of black fabric.

“A blindfold? Really Jack?”

“I’ll be worth it. I promise you. Trust me babygirl.”

“Fine but, you have to put it on me.”

You turned around. He reached around and gently tied it. He whispered , “Maybe we can use this later.”

You turned around to face him, and bit your lip. “I don’t know how you can top any of this, but I’m ready to watch you try.”

You could feel him smiling confidently as he opened the car door and guided you inside. His hands gliding across your body sending shovers down your spine.

“You’ll see soon enough. Trust me, this one’s going to be unforgettable."

He drove for what felt like forever.

“Are we there yet? People are going to think you’re kidnapping me!”

“Perfect timing, we’re here.”

He put the car in park and turned it off.

“Can I take this off now please?”

“Not yet. Let me come around and help you. Take your sweater, it got pretty cold out.”

“Jack, I swear if I walk into something-“

“I got you babygirl, don’t worry.” He held his hand on your lower back which was left exposed from the dress. You both walked a short distance from the car. Breeze slowly past you.

“We’re here.”

He stood in front of you, reaching his hands slowly around you to untie the blindfold.

You blinked hard to refocus your eyes. You looked to your left and right smiling. “You know when you said we were going somewhere special I didn’t exactly have the hospital in mind.”

You were standing at the entrance to the emergency department.

“Do you remember the first time we met?”

“The day you told me my excitement to be here would be short lived? I’ll never forget proving you wrong.”

“You know,” he took a deep breath, “I was struggling to come back here day after day, loss after loss. I wasn’t seeing the light at the end of the tunnel. Not until you walked in and brought the sun with you into every shift. You’ve become my favorite part of every day. Even the hard days feel lighter with you in them. So yeah, this place will always be special. It’s the place where I found my forever. “

You went up on your toes to kiss him.

“Come on let’s go for a walk.” He grab your hand and lead you across the street into the park. After walking the path for about 20 feet, you saw tea light candles on both sides of the path with flower petals in between.

You stopped right in your track. Tears already filling your eyes. Face becoming warm.

“Jack, what is this?”

He smiled softly as you. “Come on. Let’s keep going to our spot. Want to show you something.”

You kept walking until you reached the middle of the path by the bench you two had sat on when he asked you to be his girlfriend. A bouquet of red roses sat on the bench in front of you.

“This is where I made you my girlfriend. And where I told you I loved you for the first time. Felt like the right spot to do this next part too.”

He pulled out a small piece of paper from his pocket. “You know, I did have this whole speech planned but, things never go according to plan anyway so…”

He crumbled up the paper and shoved it back into his pants pocket.

And lowered himself down onto one knee.

“Two years ago today, we walked into this park as friends and left as a couple. Everyday since then has made me the happiest man on earth. You’ve been my partner in everything, my safe place, my challenge, my home. My forever.

Tears filled your eyes as your hand covered your mouth. “Jack”, you said as your voice broke.

“You’ve taught me more than being a doctor ever could. You showed me that love isn’t always loud. Sometimes it’s quiet. It’s in the way you look at me when you think I’m not watching, the way we laugh at things no one else would understand. It’s in how we argue, but always come back to each other. You’ve taught me what real love is. You make me brave. You make me a better man. And I want to spend my whole life figuring out how to love you even more than I already do. I’ve seen so many versions of happiness in my life but none come close to what I feel when I’m next to you The more I think about it, the more certain I become.”

Tears streamed down your face.

“So I guess I just have one question for you.”

He slowly reached into the inside pocket of his jacket and pulled out a small red box. With his hands shaking, he opened it gently. He revealed a simple yet elegant ring.

“Will you do the absolute honor of marrying me?”

A mixture of awe, laughter, and happy tears beginning to fill the space between you. You fell into his arms as he knelt before you. Wrapping your arms around him and letting the full weight of your body lean into him.

He leaned back, “Is that a yes?”, he said laughing.

“You could’ve asked me this the day we met and I would have said yes and 2 years later, the answer is still yes! I’ll always choose you Jack”

Still both kneeling on the cold, hard ground in each other’s arms laughing, crying, holding each other like no one else exists in the whole world.

He gently placed the ring on your finger. The outside world distant, everything had stopped except for you and him. The promise of a future.

He lifted you up and held you in his arms. You could stay in this moment forever. You glared down at the ring in full for the first time since he opened the box.

“I wanted it to be perfect. I spent weeks choosing it. Even brought Robby to the jewelers with me. I know it’s not just about the diamond or anything but I wanted you to have something that felt as special as you are to me.”

You couldn’t peel your eyes off of it. Slowly turning the ring on your finger, mesmerized by its beauty, feeling the weight of it, both literally and metaphorically.

“You picked the perfect one. Not just the ring. This whole night. Just you and me here together”

You took a deep breath you looked up into the cloudy night sky. A slight breeze flowing in between you both. Taking in the full moment for all its worth.

You heard more then just the wind rustling in the trees, before you could even realize what was happening, all your favorite people appeared.

Robby, Collins, Langdon, Mel, residents, nurses, at least a dozen people closest to you two.

“Surprise!” You heard it from every direction possible. Cheers for the both of you.

“You two are going to be so great together. You know we’ve all been rooting for you since day one, right?” Mel yelled excitedly.

Hugs from all around for you both. You lost track of just how many people he brought to support you.

“Come on let’s see that rock!”

You put your hand out for everybody to see. Thankfully, you got your nails done earlier that week. The ring catches the moonlight just right, a subtle sparkle, not flashy, but full of meaning. Love. The kind of shine that doesn’t scream for attention but, the type that draws eyes to it.

“You did good.” Robby put his hand on Jacks shoulder. “Really good brother.”

You lost track of time as everyone was gathering in conversation. Almost everyone had left for the night already.

You saw Langdon standing off to the side and walked up to him.

“So you did know huh?”

“Of course I did.” He nudged your arm, “Make sure you ask him about that note he put back in his pocket. You’re going to want to hear it.”

“I will. So, who are you going to be bringing to our wedding?”

He glanced down at you with a slight smile. “Mel.”

You started jumping up and down. Almost as excited as you were just earlier. “Oh my fucking god! I know it! I knew it this whole time!”

“Yeah I knew that you knew. That’s why I never explicitly said it.”

“Langdon, oh my god. I’m so happy for you two! She’s so good for you!”

“Trust me, I know.” He looked over at her smiling. “You’re not mad that I didn’t tell you about any of this? Or about her?

“I’ll never be mad at you Langdon. Jack might be my person but, you’ll always be my best friend."

“I’ll take second place I guess.”

“Mind if I steal her away for a moment?” Robby came up from behind him and put his hands on his shoulder.

“She’s all yours Robby.”

“You knew about all of it huh?” You glared over at him.

“He unfortunately tells me everything.” You two laughed. “But on a more serious note you both deserve all the love in the world, and I can’t think of any two people better suited for each other. Watching this chapter of your lives has been a pleasure and I’m excited to see what comes next for you two.”

“Thank you Robby. It really means the world coming from you. I’ll always appreciate you and everything you do for us both.”

Jack and Collins came up to you two.

“Let the man have some time with his fiancé, Robby.” Said Collins while intertwining her arm into Robby’s.

“Uh fine. Congratulations to you both again! Excited already for the wedding.”

You exchanged hugs with them and they were off.

“You put the sweater back on?” Jack looked down at you.

“Makes me feel like I’m wrapped in your arms. And there’s no safer place in the world Jack.”

“Come on, let me get my fiancé home.” Jack winked and wrapped his arm around you.

You grabbed your flowers off the bench before realizing that all the flower petal and lights were gone.

“Dana picked them up, gonna get them back Monday night. Could use them at the wedding for something.”

“Jack.”

“Yeah?”

There’s a short silence, just looking at each other. The mood shifts more tender, more intense.

You put your hands onto his chest before crashing your lips into his. Hard. Lips moving rhythmically around each others. Desperate, aching, like you’ve both been holding your breath for years waiting for this moment.

When suddenly you feel water dripping onto your face. It’s starting to rain.

“Could not have planned that out better if I tried.” Jack laughed.

The walk back to the car was peaceful. Just you two in each other arms. The way it’s supposed to be. Rain falling around you.

Streetlights flash across the windshield. The silence is heavy. The tension during the car right home could be cut with a knife. He kept his left hand on the steering wheel and his right hand in yours softly caressing your thumb. Every chance he got he glanced over at you.

The ring still shines faintly as his hand is in yours. Rain tapping lightly on the windshield.

“Do we think the rain is good luck?”

“Maybe it’ll rain on our wedding day too.” You turned your head to see him smiling softly. “So fiancé, you got anything else special planned for tonight?”

“I could tell you or I could show you.”

The tension from the drive followed you too all the way upstairs. It didn’t snap, it deepened, filling the empty space all around you.

As soon as the elevator doors closed, he immediately turned around. His hands wrapped around your neck as your hands went up to his chest. He pinned you against the wall as his lips crashed into yours. Tongues swirling in each other mouths. Moans filled the elevator until the ding that you had arrived to your floor. He quickly pulled himself off of you.

He pulled away breathless, panting already, he ran his hands through his silver curls.

“Fu- fuck, let’s go before I rip your clothes off right here.”

As soon as you both stepped off the elevator, he stopped.

“I can’t believe that I get to marry my best friend.”

“Thought Robby was your best friend?”

“Oh you beat him for that title within a week of us meeting. Now come on, I got to give my fiancé what she deserves.”

He wrapped his arms all the way around you and threw you over his shoulder. You kicked your feet up into the air.

“Oh my god, fucking finally! Yes!”

He carried you down the hall to the apartment door, fighting with the keys in his pants pocket to get into the apartment as quickly as he possibly could. Finally behind closed doors.

Before you know it his jacket hits the floor, shoes kicked off lazily, fingers tracing familiar lines around each other bodies Every movement is slow and deliberate, not just passion, but raw intimacy. The kind that screams, I want all of you and I’m not going anywhere.

“God you look so fucking good in this dress but, I need you out of it right now. Fuck”

He grabbed your hand and lead you into the bedroom.

“Let me see what I’ve been missing out on.”

He pulled your body against his as his hands slid behind you untying the dress, never breaking eye contact. He gently pulled the straps on your shoulders down around your arms. Underneath a surprise.

Not only did you go and buy him a gift earlier that week, you stopped at the lingerie store to pick up something extra special. A red set. Lace. Tightly wrapped all around your body.

He trailed his fingers down the fabric on your stomach. “Fuck, you’re driving me insane already babygirl.” You watched his eyes roam your body, up and down as you unbuttoned his shirt, getting down to his belt buckle.

Hands went to your waist, pushing you back against the bed. Wrapped his arms around you, lifted you up, and threw you down onto the bed. His eyes went dark. He was starving for something only you could give him.

He stood at the edge of the bed, undid his own belt, pulling his pants off in a hurry. Tight black briefs that showed his excitement. He ripped off his socks before crawling on top of you.

Fingers tracing every inch of your body. You squirmed under his touch.

As he came face to face with you, you whispered, “Take me.”

He hand slid effortlessly underneath you, untying your lingerie. Sliding in fully off your body as if he’s done it a million times before.

He lightly kissed you before making his way down around your neck as his hand began to explore your body. You felt his hand on your stomach, instinctually, you open your legs for him.

“That’s my good girl.” You threw your head back letting a soft moan leave you as he sucked on your collarbone. You felt his hand go lower.

“Jesus fucking christ, so wet for me already. He growls lowly, the possessive need in him taking over him completely.

“Been waiting for you all night.” You panted out.

“Is that right?” He didn’t hesitate, his middle finger was inside of you.

“Oh fu-fuck Jack. Please.”

“Patience my sweet girl. You’ll get what you need soon enough.”, He leaned into your ear, “We’re going to do this how I say. You’re going to finish on fingers, then on my tongue, then we’re going to finish together.”

His fingers slid easily through your juices as he began sucking on your breasts. Gently biting your nipples. Fingers curled inside of you while his thumb did circles around your clit. The sensation of his breath against your skin made your head spin, the anticipation building as he curved his finger into you, finding that spot that drove you wild.

Before you knew it, another finger was inside of you. The sounds of your wet pussy filled the room. He knew exactly what spot to hit each time.

“Ja- Jack, I’m gonna, I’m gonna-“

“Give it to me babygirl. Cum on my fingers.”

You arched your back as your legs began to shake under the pleasure. There were sounds leaving your body you didn’t know you could make.

“There we go, that’s my girl.”

You let go completely. A wave of pleasure took over your entire body. Your first of many orgasms tonight. His fingers still inside of you, slowly moving.

“Gotta taste her now.”

“Fuck Jack, ju- just give me a second.” Legs still trembling, you struggled to catch your breath. You covered your face with both hands. Embarrassed that you were already struggling to keep up with him.

“Damn you missed me that much huh?”

You didn’t respond.

“Are you alright?”

“Fuck I can’t believe I can’t keep up with you and your like twice my age.” You laughed.

He grabbed both arms off of you dragging them to your sides before wrapping his left hand around your neck. His veins in his hand bludging out. You look down to see his new gold watch. What a good idea.

“First of all, I’m not twice your age. Second, I know what my girl needs and how to give it to her.”

You glared up at him, chain dangling right in front of your face. You bite your lip and said, “Oh god, just shut up already and clean the mess you made.”

“Anything for you sweetheart.”

Before you knew it, he was leaving a trail of saliva down your body. Kissing every inch of your body. “You want this?”

You grab his hair and pushed him down into your cunt. His lips latched onto your clit, sucking hard, sending a jolt of electricity through your body. Your fingers tangled in his sliver hair, gripping tightly as your legs trembled, and he groaned again into you, the vibration making you whimper.

"God, I could stay here forever.”, He mumbled against you. “This pussy is all mine tonight. You feel that? You hear that? This pussy's mine."

You could hear slurping sounds as he devoured you, his mouth greedy and desperate as if he’d been starving for this moment forever. Your breath came out in gasps, moans, your whole body burning under his relentless attention to you and your ever need and desire.

Your body began to pull back from him. He reached up and grabbed your hands, pulling you back into him.

“Where do you think you’re going sweetheart?”

“Fucking hell, Jack, ah Jack!” You wrapped your legs around his body. “Oh my god!”

Once again, he sent an orgasm crashing through your entire body. Leaving you gasping for air as he crawled back up to you to admire his work.

“Come here, want you to taste yourself for me.”

He crashed his lips onto yours, shoving his tongue all the way into the back of your throat.

He pulled off of you, “You need a second before we keep going?”

“No but, you’re going to when I finish with you.”

You pushed him off of you and onto his back. You leaned in, brushing your hand softly, over the strain in his briefs, the curve of seven-and-a-half inches compacted against the fabric of his briefs.

“Lets get rid of these.” You pulled his briefs down to see his cock springing out, slapping against his stomach. You were drooling for him.

You grab him with one hand and spit on it. Rubbing your saliva up and down his already throbbing cock.You kiss the tip before sucking on his head.

“Just like that sweetheart, keep going for me.” Seeing Jack beg was a rare occurrence and you were eating it up. “Fu- fuck, oh god please.”

You pulled your mouth off and grabbed his cock with your hands, feeling every vein in him pulse against you.

“You gonna finish for me baby?”

He grabbed all your hair in one hand. “Put me back in your mouth right now and I’ll show you.”

You moaned onto his member, fighting the urge to swallow him whole and suck every last drop of his cum out of his cock. You brought your hand to his balls, gently squeezing them, making him push himself further down your throat.

“Sh-shit, I’m gonna cum, I’m gonna cum!” He pulled your hair tight, letting out noises that you’ve never heard from him before. He came hard, shooting himself into your mouth. You bobbed your head up and down once more before crawling up to him, his cum dripping from the corner of your mouth dow not your chin. You wiped yourself with your thumb and sucked on your fingers while he watched.

“You taste so good for me.”

“Fucking hell babygirl.”

“Yeah? You need a second?”

“Fuck no.” He flipped you over with no hesitation. Like you were nothing to him. The weight of his body fully on top of you. His sweat mixing with yours.

“Remember, I stopped taking my birth control Jack.”

“I don’t fucking care, I need to feel myself inside of you right now. I’ll go slow,” he promises, lips kissing yours, “You won’t have to worry about a thing babygirl. You just tell me if it’s too much.” Your heart flutters at his words.

He holds his frame above you, both arms holding himself up around you. You can feel the heat radiating off his body, and you want it closer.

You lift your mouth and kiss him, his tongue licking the insides of your mouth. His hands move down your body, knees digging into the mattress to keep himself steady.

“Tell me you want this.”

“I want you to fuck me Jack. Please. I need you inside of me.”

One hand reached down to grab his cock. He positioned himself at your entrance, slowly sliding just the tip in. Your moans filled the room as he slid further into you.

In and out. Your body’s syncing up perfectly as he thrusted himself all the way inside of your soaking wet pussy. You dug your nails into his back. You threw your head back, closing your eyes as he pounded himself into you. His balls slapping against you with every thrust.

He wrapped his hand around your throat once again. “You want me to keep going, you better keep those pretty fucking eyes on me.”

You opened your eyes to find in staring into you. His eyes dark. His chain swinging in front of you, hypnotizing you.

He leans his head back, almost like he's fighting the orgasm, trying to make the moment last as long as his body will allow.

“Fuck, baby, you're going to make me cum," he groans.

"Want you to cum, Jack. Want you to fill my pussy," you whine. Your words whimpering, practically begging, music to his ears.

"You want me to fill you up babygirl?” his hands tighten their grasp around your neck. "You want me to cum inside you?”

“Please Jack, I need it. Put a baby in me," you say, not even thinking twice about it. You need him, all of him.

“You want me to breed you, babygirl? You want me to fill you up and give you a baby?"

As your whimpers gets louder he takes your hand and guides to your lower belly, pressing together with his hand on the place where his tip bulges from inside of you.

“Ah, fuck babygirl, come on, cum with me.”

“Ja-Jack, oh god!”

He fall onto your body, his thrust became sloppy as he groaned into your ear. His breath hot against your flesh.

With his last thrust, he gently kissed your lips. “You’re so good to me babygirl. There you go, so glad I finally got to cum inside you”, he places a kiss on your forehead. “Think I’m going to have to start working out more to keep up with you babygirl.”

“Wish you could just stay inside of me forever.”

“I’m sure we could arrange that.” He laughed.

He sucked on your neck some more while you could feel his cock soften inside of you. He finally pulled himself out of you. He lowered his hand and put it on your cunt.

“Wanna keep her full. Don’t want you to ever forget how she feels with me swimming inside of her.” He dragged the dripping cum back up before putting a finger inside you once more. You let out a loud moan before he pulled out of you.

He threw his body next to yours and let out a sigh. “Jack, I don’t think I can even walk right now. Trust me you don’t have to worry about me forgetting who I belong to.”

“I thought about this since the last moment we were in bed together. Guess all that waiting was good for something.”

“You could let the do all the work next time, you know?”

“You got a deal babygirl. Shit, I would’ve proposed a long time ago if I knew I was going to get the best sex of my life out of it.”

You crawled onto him, resting your head on his bare chest.

“You know, not to ruin the mood or anything but, Langdon mentioned the paper you shoved back into your pocket earlier. Don’t know if you want me to read it.”

“Yeah I figured he would.”

“So are you gonna let me read it? Is it the same thing you said tonight or?”

“Well yes and no. It’s not technically a proposal written on there. Might actually be better if you read it the day we get married.”

“You want me to wait until the day of our wedding to read it?”

“I mean, I’ll hide it if you don’t trust yourself to not read it. But please, for the love of god, don’t go around asking what’s in it.”

“No, it’s okay, I think I’m starting to like surprises now.” You laughed.

With his crooked smile, he said, “I love you.”

“I love you too Jack. Until the end.”

———————————————————————

Six Weeks Later

You’d be feeling off the past few weeks. You chalked it up to the stress of realizing you were going to have to plan out a whole wedding while working as a full time night shift attending. And now Jack wants to go house hunting.

“Hey! You alright in there? We gotta go before we’re late!” Jack knocked on the bathroom door.

“Jack, I don’t know if I’m going to make it in tonight. Can you come in here please?”

He slowly opened the door, peeking his head around first. You were sitting on the floor against the shower tub next to the toilet. Fully dressed and ready to go to work.

“Jesus Christ, are you alright??” He ran up to you.

“Well, I just threw up and feel slightly better but, this nausea is just something else right about now.”

“You think you’re alright to be going to work like this?”

“Yeah I think I’ll be fine just need to take some Zofran or something and I should be able to push through. Don’t want you guys to have to work short tonight. I don’t know maybe it was your cooking.”

“You said it was good…”, he sighed as he helped you up off the cold bathroom floor.

“I don’t know just nauseous really. That’s it. This wedding planning is going to give me an ulcer Jack.”

You somehow made it through the entire shift without vomiting on a patient. But by the time handoff came around, you were struggling just to breath.

Once you were done, you sat at the nurses station in the corner, waiting for Jack. You put your elbows on your knees and your head down into your hands.

“God you look so pale. Don’t go passing out on me now.” He walked up to you.

“Can you just help me to the bathroom before I throw up all over the floor please?”

He walked you over and as soon as the door was open to the single stalled bathroom, you ran inside. Swinging your arm back to shut the door before he could see you throwing up yet again.

He could hear you in there and immediately followed you inside. “Fucking hell, again. Are you pregnant or something?”

You glared up at him, “I don’t know but, something’s wrong Jack.”

“Are you late?”

“Jack I don’t know. I’m never even regular. I don’t fucking know.” You looked up at him and wiped the cover of your mouth.

“Hey, hey, hey, calm down, we’ll be okay no matter what’s going on.”

“I think we need to go buy some tests.”

“Shit.” His eyes widening as his jaw practically fell to the floor.

———————————————————————

Woooo! Chapter 3! Wrote most of this while watching the MET Gala looks and honestly all the hot people make it so much easier to write lol. But I really hope you guys enjoy reading this as much as I loved writing it! Keep an eye out for the next chapter to find out where this one is going! ;)

Thank you to the like 4 people that asked for more! This one is for you guys!

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thebestandworstdayofjune · 1 month ago

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sweet nothings

summary: you own a bakery down the street from PTMH, and Dr. Robby is one of your favorite customers. The night of The Pitt Fest shooting, you stress bake and deliver the results to the park near the hospital when you have a gut feeling everyone could use something to lift their spirits wc: 1.8 k+ a/n: this is my first time writing for The Pitt but I really enjoyed it, looking forward to more!! Please feel free to send any requests my way! Yes I stole the title from the Taylor Swift song, some things never change. warnings: two idiots who haven't gotten their shit together and admitted their feelings, general fluff

You’d been elbow deep in flour and cocoa powder the moment that you saw the first message concerning the shooting at Pitt Fest. You whisked and folded, hoping that the familiar movements would quiet the nausea churning in your stomach. You knew that it was going to be a long night for your chosen family, which meant that it was going to be a long night for you. Three batches of brownies, a few dozen cookies and a special batch of gluten free hand pies for Princess later, and you could catch your breath. By the time that you had them all packed up and loaded into your travel tote, the tightness in your stomach had subsided.

It was a cool night, a gentle breeze blowing the loose strands of hair around your face and tickling your cheek as you walked the familiar path to the park in front of the hospital. You’d forgone packing things into your car, unsure if the traffic would still be busy near the hospital. You hadn’t texted ahead, deviating from your typical routine. You knew that they were likely too busy to check their phones, if service was even working again after the barrage of worried calls and texts had tanked it earlier in the evening.

The benches were empty, but it hardly phased you, you’d beaten them there plenty of times. And worse case scenario, most of the security knew you well enough to let you sneak into the Pitt through the back and dump your offerings in the break room before trucking home. You unpacked your bag, setting out the tupperware along with some small plates and napkins. You’d left drinks behind, knowing that someone was likely already making a run for a pack of beers. You tucked the strands of hair behind your ear, settling in for a bit.

It didn’t take long, fifteen minutes or so before Donnie and Princess arrived, rolling the cooler behind them. They waved in greeting, planting themselves on the bench across from you and digging out two beers. You smiled softly, before grabbing a brownie and one of the pies and walking them over.

“You sure you’re not an angel?” Donnie asked, grinning.

“Laying it on thick today?” you laughed.

“It’s the only way I know how,” he hit you with a charming smile that lacked any real commitment. You held back your instinct to ask after his wellbeing, knowing full well that he is not doing well after the day you imagined he had.

You and Princess gossiped about the latest episode of the reality show you were both shamelessly addicted to, and you did your best not to dodge their compliments on the baked goods, knowing they would report back to Michael. Or rather, Dr. Robby.

You’d met him only once before getting properly acquainted after an accident at the bakery had required you to hurry to the nearest hospital. But, he’d given you his first name when placing the order for his latte, so Michael he remained.

You did you best not to ask about the shift knowing that it had to have been a nightmare. Instead, you contented yourself to sitting and listening to them chatter, the time passing surprisingly quickly.

Just as you were starting to feel silly, playing with the edge of the wax paper lining the tupperware with the brownies and chastising yourself for getting your hopes up, a set of footsteps broke through the mess of worry in your brain. Michael had clearly had a hard shift, his shoulders dropping, head hung low and his eyes were dark. You’d been right to come. Jack seemed to be in somewhat better spirits beside him, but he was battle weary even to your untrained eyes.

Michael’s eyes bet yours, his eyebrows creeping up towards his hairline, head tilting in question. “I saw…” you hesitated, unsure of how much to say. “What happened today. Figured you could use a pick me up.” You’d already added a few of the brown butter chocolate chip cookies to a plate, handing them to Michael wordlessly. He took a seat on your side unlittered with tupperware, and you did your best to control your rapidly beating heart. “Jack?” you questioned, motioning to the assorted baked goods on your left.

“Well if you insist,” he laughed, working his pant leg up to free himself of his prosthetic. “Can’t turn you down.” You smiled, adding a bit of everything to a little plate and walking it over to him.

You sat back down next to Michael, insisting to yourself that the heat radiating off his arm stretched across the back of the bench was in no way related to the flip in your stomach. The others chatted amongst themselves, making light of the day. You chanced a glance his way, holding in a giggle when you noticed the couple of crumbs clinging to the side of his mouth. Your fingers twitched to brush them away, but he managed to beat you to it. “Tough day?” he asked, surveying the plethora of baked goods taking up the rest of the bench.

“Just worried.” you shrug, not meeting his eyes. “Hate feeling like I can’t do anything worthwhile to help.” The ‘not like you can’ was unspoken.

Michael cast his glance across the clearing, where his coworkers were smiling and making a considerable dent in your sweets. He didn’t argue with you, knowing that it wouldn’t make a difference, especially on a day like today. “You had one of these yet?” he asked, holding up one of the cookies. You shook your head. “You should, they’re working miracles.”

You blinked at him, your heart picking up speed. You searched his eyes, trying to figure out if he did that on purpose, when a few more people joined your circle. “Samira!” you jumped up, reaching for her. She gripped you tight, sinking against you for the duration of the hug. Samira stopped by the bakery frequently on her way to work, taking advantage of the early hours you kept with the morning shift at the hospital in mind. “If I’d known you were going to be here, I would have made a couple batches of those muffins you like.”

She laughed, head tilted back and eyes light in a way you wouldn’t have imagined was possible after the shift she just finished. “You didn’t have to bring anything, I’m glad you’re here.” she paused for a moment, her gaze shifting behind you for a moment. You craned your neck to find Michael watching the two of your carefully, something different in his expression. “This is Victoria, today was her first day,” Samira gestured behind her to the girl who was standing with her hands clasped in front of her, looking shy.

“Oh! It’s so nice to meet you!” You gave her a warm smile, squeezing her arm gently before turning and placing a few things on a plate for her and another for Matteo. “Here, to soothe your soul.” She took the plate gratefully, Matteo as well.

“Thank you that’s really-” she was cut off by loud, full laughter from behind. Your head whipped around, finding Michael with tears in his eyes. “I’m sorry,” he said through his laughter. “I just realized this was your first day.” Everyone quickly burst into various degrees of laughter. Victoria met your eyes, assessing your reaction. You did your best to shrug in a way that said ‘I’m used to this by now’ and you realized that was the truth. You had known Michael for a little over a year, and had slowly integrated into the culture of the ED. You weren’t one of them, but you belonged. These were your people.

“That’s trial by fire, baby” Jack said, raising his can in Victoria’s direction.

“I can almost guarantee the next one will be easier.” Michael said, and you were reminded that he was not just a kind man who stopped in on his way to work most days. He was a mentor, a teacher and someone that changed lives.

“I really fucking hope so.” Victoria looked weary, but not defeated. You felt she would be back.

Donnie was saying something to her, but you didn’t hear. “It’s late.” Michael said, leaning close enough for his shoulder to bump yours. You nod, leaning in as well. “You ready to go?” you nodded again, fighting back a yawn that was bubbling to the surface. He nodded, shouldering his backpack and standing up.

“Last call!” You announced, grabbing a couple of containers and offering second helpings around. A smile took over when everyone accepted the extras. You deposited the container of pies in Princess’s lap, laughing when she promised she would get the container back to you. “You don’t have to lie to me of all people, you know.”

“I don’t even know why I try.” she laughed, squeezing your hand.

“It’s nice that you do,” you insisted. You packed as many empty containers as you could into your tote, and Michael grabbed the few remaining. You gave everyone a gentle wave before turning on your heel and starting towards the bakery. You could hear Michael saying his goodbyes but you continued on, confident that he would fall into step beside you.

After a few moment, you felt him reach for the tote bag you had slung over your shoulder. “Keep dreaming, Robinavitch. I don’t let you carry my stuff on a good day.”

“Can’t blame a guy for trying.”

“You underestimate me,” you say, assessing him now that you’re alone. He is still clearly exhausted, weighed down by the reality of his day. But he looks okay. Definitely better than when he’d trudged into the park across from the hospital.

“Never.” and you knew he was right. You looped your arm through his, pulling him tight against your side. The two of you made your way back to the bakery in relative silence, taking comfort in the fact that the other is okay. He waited for you to unlock to door before pulling it open for you. You slipped inside, Michael following you to the kitchen. You moved in sync, putting things into the dishwasher, the few bits of leftover brownies into one of the fridges.

Once things were put away, you leaned against the counter, giving him a once over. “You’re not subtle.” he mutters.

You laugh, folding in half with the force. “I don’t know what you mean.” But you do know what he means. You were worried, you showed up with baked goods to mask the fact you were checking on him. it wasn't the first time and it won't be the last.

“I’m okay. Today was rough, but I’m…” he paused, taking a shaky breath. “I’m better now. Jack helped, you helped.”

You took a step towards him, hesitating, waiting for him to turn away or cross his arms or any other sign that he doesn’t want this, doesn’t want you. It doesn’t come. Another step, another pause. And then you can’t take it anymore and you are pressed against him, his hands tight around your back.

Your breaths even out, sync up and the rest of the day feels distant. You’re safe, he’s safe and the rest can wait until tomorrow.

#The Pitt x reader #The Pitt hbo #The Pitt max #The Pitt fanfiction #dr robby x reader #dr robby fanfiction #dr robby imagine #Michael robinavitch x reader #Michael robinavitch imagine #Michael robinavitch fanfiction #Michael robinavitch x you #The Pitt x you #dr robby robinavitch #dr robby Robinavitch fluff #dr robby fluff #Michael robinavitch fluff #The Pitt fluff #The Pitt angst #the pitt

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silens-oro · 1 month ago

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Senior Citizen Behavior

Not all fics have adult content, but this blog is 18+. Dr. Michael "Robby" Robinavitch x f!Reader Domestic fluff/Established Relationship

The Pitt Playlist located here

Synopsis: For the first time in a very long time, it isn't Robby who's coming home late after his shift. Word Count: 1,421 Content Warning: Age gap; No age specified, but I typically write readers with Robby or Abbot as 30+ in my mind. Tooth-rotting fluff. A/N: lmao this was supposed to be a drabble and ended up being a one-shot because I can't help myself when presented with an old man on a silver platter, so there's that.

please comment & reblog :)

It was just before 10pm when you quietly let yourself into the apartment you shared with Robby -a whole two and a half hours later than you were supposed to leave the office, but the end of the quarter was quickly approaching and extra hours were required to be put in by your entire team.

Gotta think of the shareholders, you thought bitterly to yourself as you shook the snow off of your head and toed your boots off at the door. Your bag and coat found their homes on the wall hooks in the entryway next to Robby’s jacket and bag, and you tiptoed down the hall to the soft glow coming from the living room.

Robby was an absolute sight when you caught a glimpse of him on the sofa. Mindful to step around the known creaky floorboards, you rounded the sofa to see what the damage was. He texted you earlier in the day that the first couple of hours of his shift were an absolute doozy, and when he called you on his way home he yapped about a fist fight that broke out between two patients who were there because of a fight that landed them in the ED to begin with.

"Round Two in the Emergency Department," he had said, still beside himself when the department turned into the set of Jerry Springer.

“Sounds like an episode title of It’s Always Sunny,” you joked into your desk phone as you typed into the blurring Smartsheet on your monitor that you had been working away on for the last three hours straight. You let him know that it was going to be a late night for you and to not wait up. He needed his beauty sleep.

It was a nightmare Robby was all too happy to leave in the hands of Dr. Jack Abbot and his (loving) freakshow of a night shift -they were more than equipped to handle it and Robby couldn’t get out of there fast enough.

All Robby wanted to do by the time he stepped out of those automatic doors and into the fresh air was get home, take a hot shower, eat a good meal, and wrap himself around you like a boa constrictor -and maybe put a movie on so he could fall asleep before the opening credits finished. It wasn’t too much to ask for, and yet Robby found he had the apartment all to himself because you (in an absolute rarity) ended up as the one who had to work late this time around, so he made due with what he had.

He took his shower and made a quick meal for the both of you before getting comfortable on the sofa with a book he started on his last day off. He got maybe three pages in, blinked once, and the next thing Robby knew, he was out. If you were there, he would’ve told you that he was just resting his eyes for a moment and he was definitely not asleep. No, he wasn’t snoring. All allegations were denied in this situation (that happened many times before), but you'd always give him a knowing smile with a sarcastic ‘sure' thrown his way.

Senior citizen behavior, you had joked once and he nearly smothered you with the weight of his body as he draped himself on top of you until you apologized through a fit of laughter.

Robby was sitting mostly upright on the sofa, leaning on a few throw pillows that propped his elbow up on the arm rest. He was in his comfy cardigan (the one he only wore at home after he had taken a shower) with his round readers hanging precariously on the tip of his nose and his latest book smashed flat against his chest. His feet, wearing coziest winter socks because the man was never barefoot in the house, were crossed ankle over ankle on the coffee table making his impossibly long legs appear to be even longer than they already were.

Robby’s head was tilted back just enough to make his mouth open the tiniest bit, allowing soft snores (that he would deny til he was blue in the face) to escape while he rested -blissfully unaware of his audience, and you couldn’t stop the breathy laugh that escaped you even if you tried.

“Oh, you are never beating the senior citizen allegations now, Robby.” You teased in a whisper as you carefully removed the readers that were dangerously close to falling off the tip of his nose. You folded the arms carefully and set them on the side table next to the base of the lone lamp that illuminated the room, before gently prying the book from his (more than likely cramped) hand. The book itself was flat on his chest, pages splayed open on the last page he read -or attempted to, anyway. Not seeing a bookmark anywhere, you dog-eared the page and set it next to his glasses with care.

Robby grumbled incoherently when your palm came to rest on his bearded cheek. The dark circles that were starting to reappear under his eyes made your lips tilt down for a fraction of a second, knowing he was exhausted. Not just physically, but mentally as well. Between what happened with Pittfest just four months ago, and Frank’s situation that Robby blamed himself for (not for Frank using, but for Robby not seeing it until a first day intern pointed it out to him), and the goddamn Patient Satisfaction Scores he was constantly drilled about like the ED was a Primanti Bros. franchise -on top of whatever other bullshit Gloria threw at him, he needed to take some time to himself so he could disconnect -if only for a few days. The problem was that Robby wasn’t the type to disconnect. He felt an obligation because if not him, then who?

It hurt your heart to think of the weight Robby carried day in and day out, like he was Atlas carrying the sky on his shoulders, not because he needed to be punished, but because he needed to be useful and this was the only way he knew how to be. Robby was a great man with an enormous heart who constantly gave himself away at the expense of never getting those pieces back. And while you tried to replace what you could, for every piece you returned, two more were taken away in its place. The toll it took on him was getting more and more noticeable by the day, but still he trudged on. It’s who Robby was, and would always be.

Waking him up when you knew he needed the rest was the last thing you wanted to do, but you knew if you left him on that couch he was liable to wake up with something out of alignment and that was the absolute last thing he needed.

You leaned down and kissed his forehead tenderly, then down to his nose, and finally landed on his ever so slightly parted lips (that he was 100% not snoring through). Robby’s eyes started to flutter and a sleepy grin tilted his lips up when he cracked them open and saw you standing over him.

“Hi, sleepyhead.” You whispered, “I told you that you didn’t have to wait up for me. Your back is going to be screamin' at you.”

“Clearly I didn’t wait up,” He joked, groaning at how stiff he felt from sleeping in the position he was in. He yawned as he stretched his arms up, pulling his t-shirt up to reveal just the slightest sliver of his happy trail low on his stomach, and gently grabbed your hand to pull you down to the sofa so you could snuggle into his side.

Robby drowsily kissed the side of your head as you wrapped your arms around his middle, letting one of your hands slip underneath his soft cotton t-shirt to rub at his ribs affectionately. It didn’t take you very long into your relationship with Robby to figure out that skin to skin contact, specifically in a non-sexual setting, was something he craved. It was comforting and intimate in a way that grounded him and so it became a ritual whenever the two of you had brief moments together that you were more than happy to oblige in. It was never explicitly stated between you, he never asked for it, but you just knew and he loved you for it. “There’s a plate in the microwave for you. Figured you’d be starving when you got home.” His words were muffled because he still hadn't moved. You gently tilted your head up to look at him.

“Have I ever told you how much I love you?” He chuckled, rolling his eyes. The crow’s feet at the corners of his eyes were pronounced and you couldn’t help but admire how handsome he was -especially when he was smiling. “Because I do. You’re the best.” You smiled up at him, giving him a loving peck. Robby let the kids linger, cupping your jaw to keep you close to him.

“I try.” He breathed against you, dodging the attention by pressing his forehead to yours. He found comfort in the lingering smell of your shampoo and the warmth that radiated off of you.

“You do more than try, Robby, and I will always appreciate that.” Again, you kissed him tenderly, your hand coming up to gently scratch at his beard. He gave you the stink eye when you laughed at the tiny groan he let out when you did it.

"I know you do, even if you are a pain in my ass. I love you all the more for it."

please comment & reblog :)

#dr robby x reader #dr robby imagine #the pitt #the pitt imagine #the pitt one shot #dr robby #michael robinavitch #michael robby robinavitch #fluff #x reader

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fandomfucker · 2 months ago

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You Can Be My Patient | Dr. Mel King x Gn!Reader

Synopsis: Firefighter!Reader runs into girlfriend Dr. King after they get hurt on the job.

⚠️TW⚠️: Talk of suicide, guns, gunshot wounds, lots of blood

A/N: There are for sure medical inaccuracies in here, apologies in advance. Doesn't follow the actual plot of the show so no spoilers, also heavily inspired by 9-1-1 🙂‍↕️

Word Count: 1,788

Noise clung to you like static. The only thing you could really make out was the thunderous sound of your heart beating in your ears. The last thing you remembered for certain was an ear-splitting boom, before nothing.

It was called in as just a kid on a ledge. Something you were the best on the team at. What no one had noticed, was that this kid wasn't just suicidal.

He had wanted to take others out with him.

None of the several 911 callers had seen the gun, what with him standing at the top of a billboard why would they have? He wanted to lure someone up there with him.

And that someone just so happened to be you.

You stood at the edge of the aerial ladder as your partner slowly rose you up enough to step onto the billboard where you called out to him. You never saw it until it was too late. And by then, the officer that had been canvassing from below took a shot as well.

The two of you hit the rungs at the same time, your name being screamed over your crackling radio the last thing you could make out over the buzzing in your ear.

Your eyes shifted, taking in your bloodied surroundings as a means of control as your nervous system began to override everything else. You were just in your team’s ambulance, but you had never seen it from this perspective before, and where you formerly felt confident you now just felt foreign.

Adrenaline coursed through you, leaving you shaking and breathless even as you just laid on the gurney.

Callie, your favorite paramedic at your station, stroked your hair with one hand as she kept pressure on your wound with the other.

"Hey, we're almost there, 'k? We're getting you to the best doctors possible. We're two minutes out alright, just hold on."

As your panic began to increase as whatever initial shock you had started to wear off, you were more and more aware of the bullet wound in your shoulder. The agonizing burn of it, to be more specific.

You could feel the hot sticky liquid flowing down your arm and your back, and knew without a shadow of a doubt that it coated the floor as well. You could smell the metallic properties of it, unsure if part of it was fused with the burnt metal of the bullet.

"Where's the kid?" You managed to ask her, your voice dry and cracking.

"He's in the other ambulance, GSW to the head. Don't worry about him though, just worry about you."

You closed your eyes, overcome by a sudden bout of nausea as the ambulance came to an abrupt halt, the wheels of the gurney shaking you.

They rolled you through the doors of the E.R., the bright lights making you close your eyes tightly as a reverberating pounding began from the back of your head. Callie shushed you gently as a small groan left your lips.

Fingers pulled your right eyelid back right as a bright light was shone directly into your eyeball. You knew what they were doing, but in your dazed state, all you wanted was to keep every light possible out of your line of sight.

The hand holding your eyelid dropped it but immediately picked up the other eyelid and shone the light in that eye while another set of hands held your head still.

Words you couldn't quite comprehend were thrown at and around you as your head was released and you felt the movement of the gurney you laid on. You heard "Dr. Langdon" and managed to open your eyes on your own to a squint. You recognized that name from what your girlfriend had told you about a few of her colleagues. Namely, Dr. Langdon, with whom she’d been working very closely.

You didn’t recognize his face but with the way he seemingly commanded the room you could tell who he was. He helped Callie and the other paramedic, Danni, move you from the gurney to a bed, making you bite back a groan of pain as more blood seeped through the tattered remains of your shirt.

“Sorry to keep you waiting, I’m Dr. King-“ The woman entering your little cubicle stopped dead in her tracks when she saw you. You probably looked a mess, with what you were sure was blood spattered on your face and your hair stuck to your sweat-soaked skin, not to mention the sheer amount of blood just all over everything.

“Y/N?” She spoke softly in horrified shock. You managed a small grin as Dr. Langdon got to work removing the rest of your shirt, removing every obstacle between him and your wound. He spared a glance towards Dr. King but never actually stopped for a second. “Hey, Mel.”

Her eyes were wide, glued to the amount of blood still coming from your shoulder that Langdon now gripped, prepared to move you to see the full extent but waiting for Mel.

He glanced at you before looking back at Mel. “Dr. King? Is there a problem here?”

You gave her a small nod of encouragement; you trusted her to heal you so long as she was okay with it. She twiddled with her pen against her clipboard as she searched for a proper response.

“Dr. King?”

It’s like she was shocked back to the present, she ran to your injured side and began doing a check of everything as she began to ramble. “Do you have any dizziness or nausea? A headache?” She braced your upper body as the two of them raised your injured shoulder. You hissed in pain, gritting your teeth.

“Through and through,” Langdon stated, grabbing some gauze to put in each side of the wound before wrapping it up.

You took in a deep breath, trying to remember the questions Mel had asked you. “No dizziness, but yes nausea and double yes, headache,” you groaned.

Mel walked around to your other side as Langdon began to cover up the bullet holes. She brushed some of the sweaty hair off your forehead and you closed your eyes, leaning into her touch.

“Are you on any medications that we should be aware of? Have any allergies?” Langdon asked, glancing at you before doing a double-take at Mel’s fingers in your hair.

Before you could even get a chance to answer, she was answering for you. “No allergies, but they’re on escitalopram.”

Langdon raised an eyebrow at where your fingers now clutched tightly onto the hem of Mel’s scrubs. “And, you would know that how?”

Mel looked sort of affronted at him as if he should’ve known already despite having never met before. “They’re my partner. I would hope that I know their medical history.”

Langdon let out a small laugh, finishing up the wrapping. “Well, in that case, you can help fill out all their paperwork. I’ll let the OR know we’re ready when they are.” He turned to you just before he left the room, “Nice to finally meet you, Y/N.”

She pulled up the small stool on wheels next to your bedside and took up residence as she filled out your paperwork. Only leaving your side once to get you some pain medication. She kept you entertained while also making sure you stayed awake until they put you under for your surgery.

You tried to explain to her what happened, through your hazy memory and brain currently turned to mush. It wasn’t your first concussion and certainly wouldn’t be your last with your line of work which made Mel all the more nervous.

When the OR was finally ready for you, Mel made sure to be the one to bring up upstairs. She hesitated at the end of your bed before she had to leave, visibly anxious. “Come here.” She smiled softly, holding out your good hand for her to hold. “I’m gonna be okay, I promise. I’ll be in recovery waiting for you before you know it.” She smiled slightly, knowing you were in the best possible hands. “I love you, Mel, this isn’t going to keep me away from you.”

She ducked her head, a small blush coating her cheeks. She squeezed your hand, a small smile gracing her lips. “I love you too. I’ll be here when you wake up.”

You grinned, as much as you still could to recite something the two of you had originally bonded over when you first started dating. “Always?”

“Always,” She laughed, sounding like pure heaven.

**********

“How long 'til I can go back to work, Doc?” You had woken up from surgery a little over an hour ago. Mel had been able to get the rest of her shift off to stay with you until you could go home the next day.

Mel frowned at you slightly, “At least a month or two, and possibly a little bit of physical therapy depending on if any tendons were torn. But I want you to get as much rest as possible. You don’t always have to rush back to work. You’re allowed to rest.”

You sighed softly, this was a conversation the two of you had had a few times before. Maybe now that something serious happened, you would be more open to slowing down. If not for you then for her.

"I was.. I was really worried about you." She kept her gaze on the ground as she let out a large breath that, by the sound of it, she'd been holding in for quite some time.

You reached out your hand, knowing that while she did enjoy your touch, she typically preferred it to be on her terms. She softly grabbed your hand, pulling herself closer to you as she gripped it harder.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you. And, I would’ve been more careful had we known the kid had a gun.” There was a lump in your throat as you swallowed, suddenly being the one to avoid eye contact.

“But you didn’t know, and there was no way to know.” She absently drew different shapes on the back of your hand as she cradled it in her lap. “But, it’s okay because I’m a doctor, and that’s what I’m here for. You can be my patient.” She smiled at you, in that cute way she does that reminds you of pure sunshine.

You squeezed her hand, your head lolling to the side as some of the residual drowsiness snuck up on you.

“I love you,” and a kiss on your forehead was the last thing you remembered before you were totally asleep. Comforted in the knowledge that your girlfriend would still be there when you woke up, and every second afterward.

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theonewiththefanfics · 1 month ago

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Sisyphus No Longer (one-shot)

Synopsis: Robby knows chaos intimately. He knows how to navigate it, and guide others through. But sometimes life throws a curveball so big, not even he can get out of the range of impact.

Pairing: Dr. Michael "Robby" Robinavitch x fem!Reader

Genre: mainly fluffy, lil bit of angst (Robby just lives in an anxious state of mind worrying about his girlfriend)

Warnings: swearing, bit of medical talk (hopefully mostly accurate lol, nothing explicit, though if you pick up on anything please do let me know, and I'll add it here 😊), innuendos, but no smut this time around.

Word count: 10,879 (here we go again 🙃)

This is a follow-up to An Itch You Can't Scratch, but I think you can read this on its own as well :) Please don't copy my work or repost it onto other platforms. all of the characters belong to HBO Max.

Robby’s life was chaos. But it was chaos he was used to.

He knew how to navigate it, like a ship under the blanket of fog. Knew how to bend the mist to his will, and twist it to reveal the correct course of action.

For example, chaos causer No. 1 – Myrna.

She was a regular at the Pittsburgh Trauma Medical Hospital. She dished out verbal assaults, like it was a Friday at a bar, trying to flash anyone who even threw her a glance, all the while being handcuffed to a wheelchair. The one time she’d managed to Houdini her way out, had sent the whole unit into a tailspin.

But Myrna was a constant in his life. She brought a sense of levity during his incredibly stressful days and allowed him to crack a grin or two. He was her Fruitcake and she was his Fruitfly. They just worked like that.

Then there was chaos causer No. 2 – Good old Gloria.

If there was one thing in the world Robby hated, other than people who took their primary medical advice from Reddit forums, it was suits, and people in them. Especially those that tried to run hospitals, while prioritizing cost-cutting, instead of the safety of their staff and patients.

“Would people recommend this emergency department to their friends or loved ones?” Gloria had asked him a couple of days prior, singing her usual song, albeit in a slightly different key.

The only thing that’d saved her had been the fact a mother had walked in with her five-year-old son, a piece of crayon stuck in his nose.

“Gloria, quite honestly, nobody is walking around recommending emergency departments, because nobody wants to be here. The last thing on the mind of someone with a split open head or a dying parent is leaving a five-star review. But sure. Be my guest. How about you go around the people sitting here, having waited eight hours to be seen, and ask them what they thought of the service today.”

She bristled at his light, but clearly aggravated tone. “I imagine eight hours is a long time to wait.”

“It is. You know how we could cut it down?” He crossed his arms. “More nurses. More staff. More equipment. It’s that easy. But unless you wish to get a rainbow sneezed on you, I suggest you walk away.”

She wasn’t amused by his words, but when Dana sidled up, helping him steady the kid against the unpleasant feel of forceps digging around his nose for a sky-blue piece of crayon, she muttered in a low tone, “This is all alleged, and if anyone asks, nobody has seen or heard anything. But there’s a rumor going around, that someone might’ve put sardines behind the radiator of a certain someone’s car.”

It had taken everything in Robby not to bust out laughing, even as the kid sprayed him with cerulean snot, which brought him to chaos causer(s) No. 3 – the whole of the Pitt.

Ever since his one-night-stand and fleeing escapade had been revealed a month prior, by none other than the woman who was his girlfriend now, nobody was allowing him to live down the words she’d dished out upon her admission to the ED.

Four hours.

Shaking mess.

God fucking help him.

He was Mr. Stamina now.

A ladies’ man (though he considered himself the man of only one specific lady).

His closest friend Jack Abbot had even heard about this. As he’d come in to overtake the Pitt the evening after Y/N’s discharge, he’d clapped Robby on the back and requested his tips and tricks for lasting that long in bed.

“What?” Robby scoffed, pulling off his stethoscope and zipping up his bag. “I can handle a whole ED on top of the hospital board for twelve hours straight, yet you don’t think I can handle one woman for four?”

“I never said that.” Jack lifted his hands in mock surrender. “The real question is – when you two first met – was that during one of your seven days off-shift?”

“Fuck you, man.” Robby pushed past him, ears reddening like ripe raspberries.

“Nah, brother. That job seems to be taken already.”

Robby had just given him the middle finger as he walked away and clocked out.

That had been his life every single day since Y/N had taken a chance on him, and had become the one chaos-causer he was still trying to adjust to.

It had been a little over a month since she’d broken her leg, and it had been a little over a month since they’d officially started dating.

(He’d scoffed at the term at first. “Dating?” he’d asked. “In my big old age?”

“Okay,” Y/N had mocked him. “Would you like to call it ‘wooing’? ‘Courting’? Do we need a chaperone to watch over as we graze our fingers alo-,”

“Alright,” he sighed. “Point taken.”)

He couldn’t be any happier though. The way they’d gotten reintroduced wasn’t one he wished to repeat because seeing Y/N in any kind of mild discomfort made him wince, but he would always be thankful for the universe granting him another opportunity.

He wouldn’t say that by the time she’d come to his place of work with a bone sticking out of her leg, he’d given up on love for himself, but Robby had resigned to the fact that maybe, a relationship, a romantic kind of love, wasn’t in the cards for him anymore.

And yet now, as he dragged his tired legs over to the place she shared with her best friend Sara, his mind couldn’t help but wonder what had he done in this life or maybe a past one, that’d granted him such happiness.

A paper bag of croissants crinkled as he patted down his trousers, searching for the spare key Y/N had given him. Mainly it was because Sara was sometimes out late bartending at her second job, and his girlfriend, her leg still in a cast, was slow to move around the apartment. But still, Robby always knocked first.

It felt intimate, coming into her space like that.

Like returning home, rather than simply staying over at someone else’s place.

He heard shuffling and voices echo before Sara opened the door, welcoming him inside. His brown eyes ventured to the couch on instinct where he’d usually find Y/N, her leg on the coffee table while the two friends watched a movie or a show or a serial killer documentary, only to find it empty.

Robby didn’t have to wonder long where she was, as he turned his neck and found Y/N in a heated conversation, her back towards the living area of the studio-type apartment, phone on speaker as a male voice argued back.

His brain was immediately overtaken by the doctor side of it – he wondered how long had she been standing for. Had she elevated her leg at all during the day? What was her pain level? But the words that came out of her mouth completely overrode the code, as it wasn’t something he expected to hear at all.

“No, you know what you’ve done, Harry? You’ve effectively killed our mother.”

“What’s going on?” Robby asked Sara, as the woman plopped down onto the couch, his gaze frantically scanning Y/N’s form. “Is Mrs. Y/L/N alright?”

Sara waved him off. “She’s fine. In fact, she’s never been better. No thanks to the hurricane over there though. Just listen. Y/N’s been ripping her brother a new one for like twenty minutes already.”

Placing his backpack onto a chair, and sliding to sit on the armrest, he watched as Y/N opened and closed random cabinets, her back taut as a string.

Even angry she was beautiful, Robby thought.

Maybe old and worn men like him did deserve kind and gentle things.

However, the way she spoke to her brother, well... She was as gentle as a cactus spike. “Harry, why the fuck would you do that? Why the fuck would you let her go alone?”

“She’s not gonna be alone, holy shit, Y/N/N! Take a fucking chill pill!” her brother exasperated on the other end of the line. “Dad’s going with!”

“Oh, great!” She threw her hands up and slammed an overhead cupboard closed. “That’s just fucking fantastic! You’ve turned us into Annie! Do you not have enough braincells to realize just how many people go missing while on cruises?”

Robby looked towards Sara who was watching the drama unfold with a wineglass in her hand. “Cruises?”

“One of her mom’s dreams has been to go on a cruise,” she explained. “She’s been joking that when one of her kids makes a million, they’ll get her a cruise pass.”

“And Y/N’s brother made a million?” From what he’d been told, Harry was five years younger than his sister. “Smart kid.”

“Dumb kid.” Sara snorted. “And not a millionaire. He just lives to torture her, I guess. He got their parents cruise passes for Y/M/N's birthday three days ago. Y/N even chipped in thinking it was for a new car or something. Quite frankly, I’m with Harry on this one. Their parents deserve a nice vacation in the Caribbean, but when Y/M/N phoned her to thank them for the present the two got for her…” Sara whistled. “I thought an eye might pop out of her skull. Or at least a vein, so now she’s been having the most epic crash-out. Want some popcorn?”

He could do nothing but shake his head and cross his arms, a smile blooming on his lips as he watched Y/N war with her brother.

“And if they get killed?” Y/N glared down at the phone on the kitchen counter. “It’s international waters! No jurisdiction wants to deal with that shit! They’ll become a fucking unsolved case!”

“Oh my god, they’re not gonna get killed!” Robby could just imagine her brother pulling his hands through his hair as Y/N didn’t relent. “They’re two pensioners who just want to relax on a big boat and see some sights with a Margarita in their hand!”

“And what if they are? Do you know where they keep the dead bodies on cruises? Next to those fucking Margarita mixes!”

Harry’s sigh was royal. “And who exactly has such a vendetta against them?”

“There’s a lot of bad people out there.” Y/N scoffed incredulously. “Do you need me to send you links to all the documentaries there are about people who’ve died under mysterious circumstances while on a cruise?”

“No, what I think is, you need to lay off true-crime for a while. You’re starting to sound like some red-pill conspiracy theorist! Mom and dad just want to have a vacation. Besides, you’re never like this when they fly somewhere.”

Y/N huffed, putting her hands on her hips. “Okay. Fine. How about this – mom is completely time-blind and dad’s a topographical idiot. What if they forget their passports while on some excursion or get lost? I don’t want to see them on a single TikTok about pier runners and whatnot.”

“They drove all through Spain, Italy and France last summer, and fun fact – didn’t manage to get lost,” Harry griped. “I think they will be just fine, especially because they will be with a group and a whole ass guide.”

“That’s not good enough!”

“Why can’t you just be happy for mom and dad? You know she’s wanted to go on a cruise for ages! She was so happy when she saw it was from both of us.”

“Harry…” Y/N rubbed at her forehead, but before she managed to say anything, her brother said something that made Sara choke on her wine.

“Why are you so fucking strung up? Is that new doctor boyfriend of yours not giving you any?”

Quite honestly, if he’d been drinking anything himself, he would have also choked. He hadn’t known Y/N had talked to her family about him, nor had he realized she’d told them it was a serious relationship. It made warmth bloom in his chest. Or maybe that was just the blush turning him tomato red.

“Actually, he’s -,” she twisted around and finally noticed he was sitting in her living room. “Right here,” Y/N finished in a clipped tone. “I’m gonna go. Next time I see you, Harry, you’re dead. Start writing a fucking will.”

With that, she ended the call and gave Robby a sheepish smile. “Hi. Sorry, I didn’t hear you come in.”

“I gathered as much,” he chuckled, back popping as he stood up and went to Y/N. It was almost instinctive how his hands found their way to her waist, resting on the dips above her hips. “Seemed like you were in a pretty intense argument. Wanna talk about it?”

“That depends.” Her hand trailed up his chest and settled on the nape of his neck, nails scratching against the skin there, a pleasant hum reverberating through his body. “Will you tell me that my brother is correct, and I’m obviously overreacting about this and that my parents will be totally fine? Or do you have common sense and wish to remain in a relationship with me?”

He gave her a crooked smile. “Can’t it be both?”

Y/N threw her head back and groaned, which gave Robby the opportunity to lean down and press a kiss against her pulse point, his own heart jumping in delight as he felt it speed up. He still couldn’t stop reveling in the fact, he had such an effect on this young, amazing woman.

“I know,” she huffed. “I know they will be fine, but I can’t help but worry. I have this irrational fear of cruises. I can’t explain it.” Suddenly she snapped her head up so fast, her forehead almost collided with his teeth. “Oh God. Don’t tell me you’re gonna be like that someday. Because if one of your dreams is to go on a cruise, I think we need to end this right here and now.”

“Sweetheart.” He cupped her face in his palms. “I don’t plan on going on a cruise anytime soon, nor once I’m geriatric. Unless you’re coming with me, I have no intentions of going on such trips.”

Y/N sighed and nodded, seemingly accepting his response. “Okay good. Because I do not have the mental capacity it takes to solve crimes.”

“They will be fine. It’s admirable you care for your parents so much, but they will be alright. And I do agree with your brother – you’ve got to stop watching true-crime for a bit.”

“Well, there’s not much for me to do at home. I still have two weeks until Langdon gets me out of cast number two,” she grumbled and took hold of the crutches she’d placed against the kitchenette. “Work from home is great, until you’re done for the day, and you’re already home. I gotta kill the time somehow until Sara gets home or you come over.” Y/N snorted, raising a brow. “Kill time. Get it?”

Robby just huffed a laugh as they made their way over to the couch, Sara having moved to a loveseat, so they could cuddle while he unwound from the day he’d had.

“Leg’s doing alright?” He checked in, as Y/N put a pillow onto the coffee table and placed her foot there.

“Just fine. Like it was yesterday. And the day before. And the day before, and ever since Langdon and Santos put it on.” She leaned over and pecked his lips. The kiss was short, but it was something he’d been dreaming of ever since he woke up in his own bed, in his silent and lonely apartment. “Give them some credit.”

It had been about three weeks prior, that Y/N had come back to the ED for her scheduled appointment with Frank to remove the post-op plaster cast, get the stitches out, and get her leg into the one she’d be wearing for the rest of the recovery time.

When she’d hobbled through the doors, Robby instantly rushed over to help her, smirks and wolf-whistles thrown their way. If he hadn’t been the attending, he was sure they would’ve gone on for the rest of the day. (The nurses did. He didn’t have the power to stop them).

“Back to work, people!” He called out. “Or I’m putting everyone on sanitary duty!”

That got the residents and med students scrambling to find a patient. Dana though, was not under his control like that.

“He treating you good?” The blonde nudged her chin in Robby’s direction. “Because I can give you the combination of chemicals needed to remove bloodstains so that not even Luminol will find a trace.”

Beside him, Y/N snorted at her words, taking the wristband Dana handed her. Without even thinking, Robby slipped it out of her fingers and wrapped it around her hand. An unmistakable heat rose on his face at the action. So simple, yet so telling of where his head was at, what his heart was thinking.

“He’s fine.” Y/N glanced up at him. “Maybe a bit overbearing with the leg thing, but I just chuck it up to those wires they implant in all of your brains when you finish med school.”

“If you say so.” Dana raised her brows and nodded. “Just know – the offer stands.”

“Thanks. I’ll keep it in mind,” Y/N chuckled and nodded at Robby that she was ready to move to the exam room where Langdon had already prepped the bed while Robby helped her get situated. Once she was as comfortable as she could be, he crossed his arms and asked, “You okay with a resident coming in and watching, sweetheart?”

He could feel Frank’s eyes snap towards him, the younger man’s mouth curling up in a grin at the nickname that’d slipped past uninhibited, but he didn’t dare look at him. It was like dealing with a wasp – ignore it and hope it goes away. (It didn’t).

“Sure,” Y/N shrugged. “As long as this isn’t some ploy from Saw where my leg will get spontaneously amputated or something.” She threw Langdon a gaze. “It’s not, is it? Because I’ve been having these really weird dreams where my leg just falls off while I’m doing something, and I don’t know if it’s my brain adjusting to the situation, or giving me a premonition I might be ignoring.”

“I doubt Dr. Robby would let anyone touch you with an IV line without supervising.” Rubber gloves snapped against his wrists, but the smirk on his face grew twice as large, as he, no doubt to fuck with Robby, added a little, “Sweetheart,” at the end of it.

“No, I would not.” He deadpanned, and if Frank was gonna be that way, so could he. “Santos!” Robby called out into the hallway, eyes locking on the intern who was milling around the HUB, who he knew Langdon didn’t particularly get along with. Seeing the smile drop from his cocky face was enough of a win. “Come and assist.”

“But that’s just a -,”

“A great learning experience?” Robby stopped whatever rebuttal was about to come out of Trinity’s mouth. “I concur. Now come and help Dr. Langdon.”

She was smart enough not to roll her eyes at him, but her ire was palpable for being called in on such a minuscule job. She had a lot of potential, there was no denying that, but she was too overconfident for Robby’s liking, too alike the many cowboy-types he’d met and had to deal with, so he hoped by making her do the small jobs, she’d start to realize every single thing they did, was important.

A proper IV line was important, listening to the patient as they explained their problems was important, being a steady and soothing presence was important. Even if you were only there to hold someone’s hand – it was sometimes the most important thing they could do.

Langdon huffed as she entered the room, but remained professional as he introduced Trinity as their intern, the woman offering Y/N a small smile to which she responded in kind.

Together they helped her move up her sweatpants to rest against her thigh while Langdon prepped the cast saw. “You alright with Dr. Santos performing the procedure?” he checked in with her.

Robby noted how Y/N squirmed in the bed at the sight of the blade. She was a squeamish person, he knew that, but she was more squeamish because of her overactive imagination. “Can’t say I’m too thrilled about anyone coming near me with a saw, but you people gotta learn at some point, right?”

“I mean, from my experience, everyone could take a page out of a mime’s book,” Trinity smirked as Y/N cocked her head. “They don’t scream.”

Robby brushed a hand down his face as his (unofficial) girlfriend widened her eyes. “Santos, really? That’s -,”

“Dr. Robby?” Dana interrupted him before he could tell that kind of bedside manner didn’t work on patients who already had dreams about spontaneous amputations. “Can you come here for a sec? We need a second opinion.”

He didn’t want to. Despite the fact that he was the attending, and the attending on the shift no less, the thought of leaving Y/N’s side was abysmal. But he couldn’t neglect his duties and show such favoritism, just because his heart worried the whole time she wasn’t in his line of sight.

“I’ll be back in a minute. Santos, listen to Langdon,” he told them and with that went over to Dana, Mel waiting by her side, a nervous bounce to her feet.

It was an easy consult, more to reassure the mother of a sick teenager, the medication they would put him on, wouldn’t interfere with others he was taking and cause an allergic reaction. As he explained it to her, confirming Mel’s diagnosis and Dana’s recommendations, he could hear the saw turn on even a couple of rooms down.

“Go,” Dana nudged him on the hip. “Or you’ll pop a vessel thinking they might be cutting something off that doesn’t need to be cut.”

He brushed a hand over his face, feeling the blood rushing to his cheeks as he excused himself and went back to the examination room. As he moved closer, voices could be heard in low tones.

Robby shouldn’t be hovering like that. Y/N was in great hands. He knew nobody would deliberately hurt her, and Langdon, despite everything, was a good teacher. As he reentered the room, giving her an encouraging smile, he took in how Frank instructed Santos to move down the line, answering Y/N’s question as to why an oscillating saw was so much different than a rotating one and why they had to be used in a different manner – a lifting motion, rather than gliding one.

Y/N let out a sigh of relief as the plaster cracked in two and was removed from her leg, no doubt the feeling of it euphoric. He knew how though it had been on her, but as Santos came to remove the lining, something shifted in her.

The gaze she threw Langdon was alarmed. Almost panicked.

It made Robby straighten up.

“So.” Frank started, sitting down on a wheely chair and moving closer to the appendage while Santos got to work on unbinding the gauze that separated Y/N’s skin from the cast itself. “Wanna tell me what you’ve been up to?”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” she responded in an obviously fake-oblivious tone, not daring to make eye contact with either him or Robby.

“Oh, I think you do.”

“Nope,” she popped the p. “Absolutely do not.”

Robby raised his brows at her, but she just kept looking at the ceiling as if it was the most interesting thing in the world.

Frank let out a deep sigh. “Look, I can see that you have been doing something, and I need to know what. The talk about infection wasn’t just to scare you. You have stitches that are still healing. If something got inside the wounds there, it could end really bad. Spontaneous. Amputation. Bad.” He used the words she’d said before.

After what felt like hours, but was probably no more than ten seconds, Y/N muttered, “Hypotheticals?”

“If you must,” Frank’s words were weary, especially as he threw Robby a confused look over his shoulder.

“And you?” she nudged her chin towards the attending. “Do you promise not to have some sort of a meltdown? Or worse – give me a lecture?”

Robby’s mind was a frantic mess, trying to think what horrible thing could have happened, what emergency had he not seen, when finally, she relented.

“Alright. Fine.” The words were basically bitten out. “I may or may not have, hypothetically of course, used a spatula to scratch. And maybe some… metal bookmarks I have. And uh, a wooden skewer, a clean one though. And umm… there might be some bobby pins and hairclips inside as well.” After a beat she added, “They kinda got stuck, and I couldn’t fish them out.”

And, sure enough, when Santos finished removing the lining, three bobby pins were embedded against her skin – one on the top of her foot, one against her knee, and one behind in what Y/N called it, her knee-pit.

Robby pinched the bridge of his nose, huffing a breath, as Frank did the same. “Is that all you used to scratch?”

“Yes.” Y/N didn’t dare look at either of them.

“Honest?”

“Yes!” she asserted, before quietly adding, “Nothing else would fit.”

Santos snorted from where she was cleaning down Y/N’s leg and applying an anti-scar ointment on the hurt skin, removing the bobby pins as she went along, thrashing them before the woman could ask for them back.

Robby couldn’t really fault her for her actions. The itchiness and discomfort a plaster cast could create was a lot to deal with, especially with how she’d been cooped up inside for a whole week without much to do.

“You could’ve caused a serious infection,” he sighed and put his hands on his hips. “You know better than to do that.”

She threw her head back in a groan. “Please, Michael. I asked you not to lecture me. I tried, okay? I really did. But then I just kept thinking about how itchy it was, and you weren’t there to stop me, and it just all boiled over. By the time I had the bobby pins stuck, it was too late. So, actually, it’s all your fault.”

He could only let out a slow, steady exhale and shake his head as he moved to stand by her side while Langdon and Santos gathered the materials for the new cast.

“So,” he broke the settled silence, hoping to stop the pout that’d bloomed on Y/N’s face. “The spatula. Was that the one you said melted on the stove?”

“Yeah,” she grimaced as his resident and intern had to position her leg properly. “I wasn’t gonna like, wash and put it back with the utensils, you know? That’s disgusting.”

“That’s what’s disgusting?” Robby looked down at her.

“Uh huh, keep talking like that, and see where it gets you.” She pointed up at him. “As of right now, we’re still in the situationship phase.”

“Situation-what?”

“Oh, please don’t break his mind like that,” Langdon butted in, as he lifted her leg slightly and told Santos how to properly attached the 3D-printed cast. Y/N let out a hiss of pain and he watched how her grip tightened on her sweats.

Robby didn’t even think twice before his hand slipped inside her palm, allowing her to squeeze it.

“Alright, good girl.” Langdon nodded at the woman on the bed before looking up at Robby, the way his jaw clenched, and snickered. “Oh, sorry. Is that a thing between you two? I hope I’m not stepping on some toes here.”

“You know what, Frank?” Robby squinted at his fourth-year resident. “I think I might have just found Gloria some spare funding.”

“Point taken,” he said with a laugh before removing his gloves and addressing Y/N. “How’s the pain? This cast is much lighter, as you can probably already feel, and will be easier to navigate in terms of movement and hygiene gene.”

“Manageable,” she nodded running a hand down the new material covering her leg. “Tylenol – two tablets every six hours, but no more than six a day.”

“Perfect,” Frank nodded and took hold of her chart, writing down her words. “And the pain level now?”

“Like a four? Maybe five?” Y/N hissed. “Can’t say this was too comfortable of a procedure.”

Robby smoothed a finger down her cheek. “Do you feel like you need any medication right now?”

“Maybe?” she huffed. “It’s just that with the moving,” she shuddered and swallowed hard. “I like, I could feel like plates and screws grating against the bones. Like I know they actually weren't, but it felt like they did, and just yeah… I think it’s apparent I don’t do well with these kinds of things. I honestly don’t understand what kind of steel stomachs you have. I would have thrown up all over the place if I had to see shit like this every day.”

“Well, if Gloria thinks our patient satisfaction scores are low now, she should be glad you don’t work here.”

Y/N huffed at Robby’s words. “This Gloria woman should come down and try being a doctor or a nurse herself. I know I’m not the easiest of patients as is,” she winced and threw him an apologetic glance. “And I think I might have traumatized that kid – Whitaker – the first time I was here, but from what you’ve told me about how people treat you… Sound like she’s about as close to real medicine, as Katy Perry is to being a real astronaut.”

“I like you.” Santos pointed at her. “Let’s keep you around.”

She just shrugged, giving Robby’s hand a squeeze. “I’ll stick around for however long this guy wants me to.”

His heart thumped in his chest. He wanted to say, “And if I want to keep you around forever? Will you stay?” but all he did was squeeze her hand back.

It wasn’t the time or the place for it. They were still, as Y/N had said, though he barely had any inclination as to what it meant, the situationship phase, but hopefully there would be more phases. And he wondered where it would lead him.

He was no longer a single ship passing through the night. He had a new constellation in the sky he could follow, as he managed the residents and students, evaded Gloria and her bureaucratic bullshit; whenever his mind needed a respite, he turned to the new stars gleaming in the cosmos.

As Dana had discharged Y/N, and Robby walked her to wait outside for the Uber, he allowed himself to skim his knuckles along hers. She responded by intertwining their pinkies.

And now it had been a month of that.

She was a month of evenings and nights spent together. A month of mornings waking up grumpy that turned to laughter and kisses. A month of good coffee, and bad movies, but he never took it for granted. He finally had a truly safe space to come to after days when he thought nothing good could exist in the world.

The worst time of day though was the very early mornings, like right then, when he had to leave the space he’d come to cherish so much.

When he was cocooned by her arms and blanket, his body soaking up the warmth Y/N offered, like leaves do the sunlight. Cracking a bleary eye open, he noted the slit where he’d forgotten to pull it tight.

A heavy sigh left him as she groaned, pulling at his back so their chests could be pressed closer.

“Don’t." He could feel her mouth move along the skin of his pecks. “It’s way too early to wake up and I’m way too comfy to let you.”

“I need to get ready for work,” Robby brushed a hand along Y/N’s hair. “You can still catch some sleep.”

She just huffed, shaking her head, grumbling softly, “I’m not gonna be able to fall back asleep, and you know it.”

His heart stuttered in his chest, but before he could say anything, she’d already sat up, glaring down at him, as if he’d insulted her. “I’ll get the coffee ready for you.”

“You don’t have to –,”

“I’m already up.” Y/N let out a yawn almost unhinging her jaw like a snake. “Might as well save you some time.”

She was just about to slide out of the bed when he rose too, taking hold of her wrist. “I meant what I said last night. Every word.”

Ever so slowly, mind still addled by sleep, Y/N smiled, leaning back over and kissing him, not caring about either of their morning breaths. “So did I.”

Maybe Robby didn’t actually hate mornings. Not when she poured him his coffee to-go, not when she stood before him, mussing his hair a little and pressing her lips against his.

“I’ll be back by nine.” He wrapped his hands around her waist if only to prolong the time they had together. “And I’ll bring back some of those croissants from the patisserie down the block.”

“The Crème Brûlée ones?”

He hummed against her mouth in confirmation, before pulling away.

“You know, every day you make it harder and harder for me to let you go.” Y/N scratched the nape of his neck.

The smile he entered the ED with was idiotically big, so much so when he met up with Jack on the roof, the night shift attending couldn’t help but break his stoic demeanor.

“Jesus, brother.” Abbot dragged a hand down his face, a corner of his mouth pulling up in one of those rare smiles. “The girl’s got you whipped like a prepubescent teen.”

“I feel like a prepubescent teen with her around,” Robby laughed. “Keeps me on my toes, I’ll tell you that.”

Abbot just nodded, looking over the Pittsburg skyline. “Happiness suits you. You deserve happy.”

He could only smile, because the truth was, ever since the conversation they’d had before falling asleep wrapped up in one another, he was almost euphoric.

They’d been curled on her bed, her legs over Robby’s lap as both of them were engrossed in some form of literature – her in a fantasy book, the kind when he’d asked what it was about, she’d twisted the pages away from him, hiding her face that was no doubt heating up, while he was reading the newest of the medical journals.

It was almost on instinct how his hand rested against Y/N’s thigh, squeezing the flesh there, prodding against the skin where the cast met it when she huffed and squirmed away.

“Don’t," she muttered. “Because unless that hand of yours might slip higher up, you are not allowed to touch like that.”

His lips pulled, ego rising at her words. “I’m just checking if everything’s good here.”

“Everything’s good there,” her eyes drifted to her leg. “Besides, that’s just mean, what with you imposing celibacy on me.”

He threw his head back in a laugh, eyes closed tight at the motion, and he could feel her hand move to the back of his neck. He tilted his head to look at Y/N.

“I like seeing you laugh,” she scratched at the short hairs there, her Y/E/C eyes, a color that had quickly become his most favorite in the whole world, so incredibly soft as she looked at him. “I like seeing you relaxed. I sometimes think you forget how to be human. How to be just Michael.”

“Well, being with you reminds me of it.” He took her hand and pressed a kiss against her knuckles. “It’s easy with you around… it’s easy to be just Michael.”

“Yeah?” She tilted her head back to get a better look at him. “Is there a magic button I can push to turn off that doctor brain of yours, so you don’t worry about me that much?”

He gave her a small grin. “It’s not the doctor part of the brain that worries about you. It’s the one that’s slowly falling in love.”

Instantly, her whole body stiffened, mouth falling open.

And so did his, because fuck, he hadn’t meant to say it out loud. At least not yet.

Their eyes didn’t leave one another, but for a second there, Robby thought Y/N might not be breathing until air stuttered in her chest.

“Umm,” he cleared his throat and took out the novel from her hands, tucking her bookmark in it before closing the pages. “Look… you don’t have to say it back. I know it might be too soon, but it’s something I’ve been feeling for a while. And… it’s not something I’m gonna take back.”

“So…” Y/N swallowed hard. “So, these aren’t like empty words?”

“No.” Robby gave what he hoped was a warm smile, her eyes lowering to watch how he fidgeted with the corner of a page of his journal. Gently, her fingers slipped between his, easing the rising anxiety. “I mean every single one of it.”

Her little ‘okay’ was nothing more than a trembling exhale as he watched her mull over her thoughts. Just as he was about to say something to let her off the hook, to tell her anything that would interrupt the gathered silence, she spoke up.

“I mean, if you were fucking with me right now, it’d be like the meanest thing in the world.” She sniffled and wiped at the corner of her eye. “I uh… I can’t say I’m there yet, you know, but when I think about us… when I think about maybe a few years down the line it isn’t scary. Does that make sense?” She huffed, her fingers squeezing his tighter, as if afraid he’d disappear, and he squeezed right back, promising he wouldn’t. “Anytime I’ve been in a relationship, I’ve never really been able to see past the next few days. A few weeks maybe, but with you… I can see years. I can even see us with a cat.” Y/N let out a teary laugh, and Robby’s own bubbled up in his chest. “I mean if you don’t get tired of me before that.”

“I’ll never get tired of you.”

“You get what I mean.” She pulled up their interlinked hand and pressed a kiss to his knuckles. “I just… it’s a tangible future. A solid one.”

“And solid’s good?”

“Yeah,” Y/N wrapped her other arm around Robby’s back, holding onto his waist like he always did hers. Like she was the one terrified he might slip away. He’d never dream of leaving, not after knowing how it felt the first time. The two weeks of regret and guilt made him wonder if he had norovirus with the way his stomach constantly roiled. “Solid’s very good.”

Afterwards, they simply basked in the silence, and not before long, they were both side by side, covered by Y/N’s down duvet. He could tell she was just on the cusp of sleep when his words brought her back. “Cat? Singular?”

“Maybe two,” she shrugged in his hold, yawning. “Or more. It depends on how many tears it takes for you to adopt a whole shelter, and trust me – I took theatre in high school. I can cry on command.”

Robby snorted shaking his head.

“But honestly,” Y/N continued, “I’m down for almost like any kind of pet, as long as it’s not a gerbil or a Guinea pig.” He felt her frown against where her face was tucked in the crook of his neck. “Those things die traumatic and dramatic deaths, and, not to toot my own horn here, I think I’m traumatic and dramatic enough for the both of us.”

They fell asleep debating whether or not a landlord would allow them to keep a python as a pet, and Robby debated all the ways he could covertly block any search results on her devices about snake breeders.

It was the question he’d presented to Dana and Heather, by the time it was four in the evening and the ED had slowed down a bit, hoping to get some advice from the two women.

“Wait, don’t tell me you’re afraid of some little snake!” Heather pointed at him over the counter where he sat at the HUB station. “Dr. Robby! I didn’t take you for such a wuss!”

He removed his glasses rubbing at his eyes. “First of all, she said she wanted a cat at first. And now suddenly I have to contend with the fact I might have to live with a twelve-foot Amazonian predator?”

“Actually, royal pythons grow between three to six feet, not twelve,” Dana said. The two threw her a gaze, and she shrugged. “Kid’s going through a weird reptile phase, so I’ve been getting all kinds of interesting facts about them.”

“Do not let them interact.” Robby pointed at her. “They will only encourage one another, and then both of us will -,”

But his words were cut short as the pagers came to life, pulling all of the Pitt into action as a fire was happening in a local area, three ambulances inbound, five minutes out. However, any sort of thoughts about preparation for the incoming got washed away when the words Green Garden Glen came up.

Instantly, Robby’s blood ran cold, his head snapping towards Heather and Dana. “That’s Y/N’s apartment complex. That’s her address.”

“Robby, don’t go there,” Dana said, taking him by the biceps. “We don’t know anything yet, okay? Call her first while we still have some time. We’ll handle the prep.”

“Fuck!” he buried his hands in his air, eyes squeezed shut. “Fuck, yeah. Okay.”

It was a miracle his hands were steady as he fished the phone out of his pocket, years of conditioning taking over, even as his mind was like a ship being tossed around by a hurricane. But as the line kept beeping until an automated voice told him “The number you are trying to reach is unavailable,” he could feel the boat begin to sink.

“Did you get through?” Heather asked, a frown on her face as Robby shook his head. “You know it doesn’t mean anything. The cell towers probably just can’t handle the influx right now.”

But any words he might have, were stuck somewhere between his heart and his throat, as his brain mulled over what might’ve happened. Had it been her and Sara’s apartment? What was the damage? What was the cause? A candle? An oven? A stove? A forgotten hair-straightener?

Robby would have kept spiraling like that, had it not been for Collins who brought back his attention to the present as the first gurney got wheeled in, an elderly man on it.

He’d been around Y/N’s and Sara’s enough to recognize him as their first-floor neighbor, the one with a penchant for yelling at people who he believed were there to steal the roses he grew below his window.

Mohan and Whitaker were examining him as they got instructed to wheel him to room eight by Princess.

“Conscious and somewhat coherent,” Robby heard Whitaker describe while the neighbor kept rambling on and on about how the fire must’ve been set to kill his plants. “Surface level burns to the upper arm area and stridor in the lungs from smoke inhalation. Lidocaine was administered on the scene and continuous oxygen is being given.”

“Recommendations?” Mohan asked.

“Keep him on oxygen,” Mel piped up from where she’d joined the two. “Monitor the levels and if needed, prescribe antibiotics afterwards.”

“And the burns?”

“Given how it’s surface level, we’ll hook him up to an IV to replenish the fluids in his body, and wrap it up with some bacitracin on the affected area. A tetanus shot for precautionary measures,” Whitaker rattled off, eyes shooting between Mohan and Mel. “Is – was that right?”

“You’re doing good, kid,” Mohan nodded and with that, they all disappeared into the assigned room.

Robby’s eyes scanned the ED – Langdon was intubating a woman with the help of Mateo and Javadi, Dana had taken on a mother with a child, a bleeding burn wound to the kid’s leg, and Collins was coordinating with Princess and Perlah, all the while he stood there like a fucking idiot.

“Get it fucking together,” he muttered to himself. It would do nobody any good if he didn’t do his job. He was the attending, for fuck’s sake. People relied on him. And yet he couldn’t move. It was only when a voice he dreamt about sounded in the room.

Robby might’ve gotten whiplash from how fast he snapped his neck towards the entrance and saw Y/N get wheeled in on a gurney.

“I’m fine,” her words were muffled by an oxygen mask as Dana rushed for her. “Seriously. Just got my leg bumped against the doorway, but I’m alright.”

But the words had no meaning when Robby’s eyes zeroed in on her stomach.

Red. Deep, dark red seeped through her (his) shirt, the one she walked around the apartment with, the one he’d remove from his body on her request and lay on a chair for her to wear the next day. It was now covered with too much of her blood.

Why wasn’t Dana putting any pressure on it!?

He was just about to rush to her when Heather stepped in the way. “Robby, no. You shouldn’t do this.”

“The fuck I shouldn’t, I need to!” he exasperated, watching as McKay ran for her and together with Dana, wheeled Y/N out of his sight.

“You, know this better than I do, we’re not supposed to treat people we know and care about.” She once again got in his way. “Don’t give Gloria a reason to get on your ass about preferential treatment.”

“I don’t give a shit about Gloria or the administration!” He snapped. “Not when the woman I love is actively hurting!”

“Yes, you do,” Heather asserted. “And it’s because you do, you will let McKay and Dana take charge. You know she’s in good hands with them. And you’re no good to Y/N without a head on your shoulders.”

“Heather, please.” He dropped his head. “I can’t…”

He didn’t need to finish the sentence for her to understand what he meant, because he’d already said the quiet part out loud.

He loved her. Plain and simple. He wasn’t falling in love, not like he’d told Y/N the previous night. He already was in love. He just didn’t want to scare her away, by telling the true intensity of his feelings. And how could Heather or anyone ask him to step aside when his worst fears were coming true?

After he’d heard about her nightmares about how she thought her leg might spontaneously fall off, certain images had appeared in Robby’s mind during the darker times of the day – Y/N in his ED, hooked up to a million wires and tubes, a ventilator keeping her breathing, while a neuro told him there was no brain activity.

He’d woken up in a cold sweat that night, one of the few times they’d stayed separate. A full moon had blazed through his window as he’d made himself a cup of coffee and plopped down onto the couch.

Robby had debated about calling or texting Y/N, just to make sure it had been only his mind working against him when she’d called him first.

He picked up on the first ring. “Sweetheart?”

He was breathless to hear her voice.

“Sorry,” Y/N muttered. “I didn’t mean to wake you.”

“You didn’t,” his reply came quick, soothing her worries. “I was already up.”

“Why?” He could hear her shuffling and huffing as she no doubt pulled herself into a sitting position. “Was it a bad shift? Need to talk?”

“No, no…” he shook his head, even though she couldn’t see. And it hadn’t been a bad shift. It’d been a usual one, though his mind did wander to Jack and how it was going now. The night brought out every type of insane. “ ‘S probably just the moon. I forgot to pull the curtains closed.”

“Ahhh.” Robby could practically see the grin stretching on her face. “So now you agree with me? That the full moon does make people crazy.”

He chuckled recalling the debate they’d had the previous day. “I never disagreed with you. Anyone that works in any type of social sphere, knows full moon equals trouble. I just said people are not like the ocean – we don’t get the water in our bodies pushed and pulled at like that.”

“Whatever you say, gramps. I don’t need you to confirm I’m right and you’re wrong.”

They’d spoken for well over an hour that night, falling asleep on the phone to one another’s breathing as their lullabies.

What if he didn’t get that anymore? What if he no longer had the chance to fall asleep next to her? To watch her put her makeup on? To help her wash her hair or curb her shopping addiction?

What if he no longer could have that solid future with a cat in it?

Fucking hell, he’d take a billion pythons if he had to, just as long as Y/N was there to help him with them.

He wanted to fight. He wanted to rage and shove Heather away, but he knew she was right, and as that settled in his mind, all the energy left him like a tidal wave.

Robby barely felt her pull his face to the crook of her neck, his hands weaving around her shoulders searching for any kind of grounding.

“I can’t lose her,” he muttered, tears he’d tried to suppress falling unabated onto her uniform, while Heather rubbed a hand up and down his back. “I don’t think I can get through that.”

“Look.” She pulled his face out from where he’d hidden it and made him look her in the eyes. “Go and help Santos. I’ll go talk with McKay and Dana, and see what the status is.”

And there was nothing more he could do than just nod.

It took her over three agonizing minutes, three minutes of him attempting to do his job as an attending, three minutes of challenging the decisions of his students, and making them explain their conclusions before Collins returned.

The rock sitting atop Robby’s chest finally rolled away when she said, “Y/N’s fine. McKay and Dana gave her a thorough examination, and apart from mild smoke inhalation, there are no cuts, no burns, no bruises, no nothing.”

“Thank you.” He pulled her in, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. “Thank you for being a sound voice when I couldn’t think straight.”

“She’s really important to you, huh?” Collins pulled back, teasingly emphasizing the word ‘important’.

“I yeah…” He dragged a hand down his face, the tips of his ears blushing, which meant he was probably as red as a fire truck already. “Yeah… She’s… something.”

Heather patted him on the arm. “I’ll help them finish up here. You go and check on your… something.”

He was never living down his words, but he didn’t care. By the time Heather had taken over, Robby was already halfway across the unit and entering the room where McKay and Y/N were conversing.

They’d switched out the oxygen mask for a nose cannula, which meant she had to be getting better, but the second their eyes locked, Robby was by her side, her cheeks in his hands as his gaze roamed over her face and body.

“Michael, look at me.” Y/N placed her palms over the top of his hands.

“I am.”

“No, you’re assessing me,” she countered him. “I said, I want you to look at me.”

“I’m…”

“Michael…” her tone was soothing. Warm. Comforting. And finally, he glanced at her. “I’m fine. And before you say or ask anything – it’s not blood.”

Her hand went to the back of his neck, scratching at the skin there, trying to calm him. He should be doing it to her. Y/N had been the one who’d just gotten rescued from a burning building. But he couldn’t tell her no, as her fingers wove through his messy hair, calming his racing heart.

“I was making dinner. Found that pasta recipe, the one I told you about when mom and I went to Valencia and got drunk off a pitcher of Aperol.”

“So, this is…” His eyes went to the large red stain on the front of the shirt.

“Tomato sauce. Poured the whole fucking jar onto myself when the fire brigade arrived. Sirens scared the shit out of me. Didn’t have time to change before I smelled the smoke and started on my way down.” Y/N smiled at him. Not a teasing quirk of the lips, but a reassuring one. She probably saw he wouldn’t be able to handle it in that moment. “It’s just tomato sauce.”

And as what she was saying, registered in his brain, Robby could note the tangy and slightly sweet scent of the fruit. There was also some basil and garlic in there as well. And the color? Yeah, as he looked it over again, it wasn’t the dark and rich tone blood had, but a lighter, more orangey one.

He looked up at her, her hand on his cheek. “I’m fine.”

It was enough for him to pull Y/N into an embrace, knowing it wouldn’t hurt her.

She was alright.

She was living and breathing.

Her heart was beating in a steady rhythm against his chest.

She was safe and in his arms.

As he catalogued these things, noting them down into the chart he had of Y/N in his head, Robby finally allowed himself to relax, as her hands moved up and down his back, dragging away the horrible images that’d invaded it.

It was McKay clearing her throat, that suddenly reminded Robby where he was. “I uh, I’ve scheduled an x-ray for that leg of hers.”

“Which I don’t need.” Y/N rolled her eyes.

“Well, as your doctor, I say you do,” McKay countered.

Robby intertwined their fingers. “Do it for me, please. All the jostling as you got down the stairs couldn’t have been good for the break.”

“Fine,” she groaned. “But honestly, I wasn’t doing much of the climbing. Halfway down a fireman got hold of me and I got carried the rest of the way.”

“Oh.”

That was all he said, but it was definitely the wrong thing to say, because of the way Y/N’s gaze snapped to his, scanning his face for something. And when she found whatever, it was, she was looking for (a slight twitch to his left eye), her lips pulled back into a ferocious grin. “Jealous?”

Robby sputtered before scoffing. “Of what? They were doing their job. If anything, I’m grateful for them.”

And he was, of course. The thought of the firemen not getting to Y/N in time as she clambered down her fourth-floor apartment with a broken leg, was terrifying. But he couldn’t do anything to stop the blush from rising, nor could he hide the way his eyes shifted to McKay who was grinning just as much as his girlfriend.

God, the Pitt would have a field day discussing him.

“Don’t worry.” Y/N leaned up and pecked his cheek. “I kinda like it when you’re jealous, but as much as men in uniforms are hot, I prefer mine in hoodies.”

A violent heat exploded through his body, especially as she looked him up and down like he was a walking-talking meal, and McKay didn’t do him any favors by letting out a low whistle and even pawing at him.

That made Y/N throw her head back in a laugh, only to elicit a big coughing fit. Immediately, his palm was pressed against her back, helping her ride it out. Her teary eyes lifted up to meet his, mirth still glimmering as he wiped a tear from the corner of it.

“Serves you right,” he mumbled, and chuckled, kissing the top of her head before helping her lay back.

As McKay went on to check with radiology and get her a gown so she could get out of the dirty clothes, Robby handed Y/N a cup of water, before asking, “Where’s Sara? Is she alright?”

“She’s fine,” she sighed, giving him back an empty cup. “She went out of town to visit her girlfriend’s parents at around two-ish? I don’t have my phone with me, though. Could you give me yours so I can give her a call?”

“Of course.”

“The apartment’s fine, by the way,” she said as she punched in Sara’s number. “The fire inspector said we’re okay to live there, as the only damage is the smell, but I’ll just air it out.”

He despised the words coming out of her mouth. The thought of Y/N in an apartment that smelled of fire and smoke, surrounded by danger – Robby’s brain simply couldn’t comprehend it, so his mouth moved before he could tell it not to.

“Move in with me.”

The phone in her hand clattered to the ground, but neither cared. “What?”

“Move in with me,” he said again, only a bit slower, to allow his head to catch up with what was happening. Not that it helped.

“Michael…” Y/N let out a nervous laugh. “We’ve been dating for barely a month.”

“I know, I just… I mean…” He rubbed the back of his neck. “Your place is ruined.”

“My apartment’s fine.”

“Okay, let me rephrase that – as if I’d let you move back somewhere fire detectors are more decorative than action figures.”

She raised her brows at that. “How’d you know the fire detectors didn’t work?”

“You said it yourself – the sirens scared you. Means the detectors didn’t do their job. The building’s definitely not up to code.”

“Look…” Y/N took one of his hands in hers, squeezing them whether to comfort herself or him, Robby didn’t know, but he held onto her touch nonetheless. “The only reason you’re asking me right now is because you’re scared. So please don’t get me wrong, when I say ‘no’, it’s not because I don’t want to. It’s because I want you to ask me when the time is right. Not after some emergency, but when you feel like you’re truly ready for it. I told you before – there’s no rush.”

His heart warmed at her consideration. They’d had a similar conversation before where Robby’d laid out his insecurities of him being older, of feeling like he had to play catch-up with the younger generation and the world that was constantly changing.

She’d thrown him the most epic side-eye she could muster while half awake and looking at him over the bowl of her oatmeal. After a long moment of silence, she sighed, chewed what was in her mouth and put her spoon down. “Do you really think I don’t feel the same way? I mean, you’ve done so much already in life. You have so much experience, and you’ve contributed so much good to the world. I constantly feel like I have to play catch-up with you. With proving my worth, with proving how even though I’m twenty-six, I’m worthy of you.”

“You are! Why would you ever think any different?” He was flabbergasted even at the insinuation she wasn’t.

She raised her brow at him. “Then why would you think that way about yourself?”

Y/N had him there. Michael chuckled and shook his head, raising his coffee in a toast. “Touché, sweetheart.”

Now, she was looking at him from the hospital bed, eyes just as kind as they’d been that morning. “When the time comes, I will say yes. But I want this to be something not done under duress. If it makes you feel any better, I can stay at yours for the night, but I’d like to go home and grab a few things before that.”

“I can lend you clothes if you need them,” he eagerly offered. Call him a simp, as the youngsters said, but he lived for seeing Y/N in his clothing. Once the cast was off her leg and she’d gone to at least a couple of rounds of physio, he’d get her to wear just one of his shirts with nothing underneath. And hopefully she’d allow him to peel that piece of clothing off too…

“Oh, no, that’s not… that’s not it.”

Robby’s brows rose at the sudden stuttering and shyness, her heart picking up its rhythm and announcing it to everyone through the monitor she was hooked on. Now it was his turn to grin. “So, what’s going on?”

Y/N buried her face in her hands. “You’re gonna think I’m weird.”

“Sweetheart,” he hung his head like it was a horrific prognosis he was pronouncing. “You already are.”

“Micheal,” she dragged his name through a laugh. “I’m being serious.”

“And so am I.”

“Alright, fine… Just please don’t laugh at me.”

“I promise.” Though it was tough as it was to keep the smile from his face.

She took in a deep breath as if steeling herself before nodding. “I uh, I got a weighted blanket.”

Robby’s brows rose. “Okay… I’m not sure why I would find it weird. I mean if you think I’m such a blanket hog, you could’ve just said so.”

“No,” Y/N shook her head, chuckling. “It’s not because of that. Though I have read that statistically, relationships where partners sleep with separate blankets, are healthier, happier and last longer, but it’s not because of that.”

“Then why?” He brushed a finger along her cheekbone. “You having trouble sleeping?”

He couldn’t remember Y/N tossing or turning much, though quite often if he got to her place after a prolonged shift, she’d already be in bed by then. Quietly, he’d shower and pull on a clean pair of boxers, before sliding into bed next to her. Like a magnet, she’d turn towards his chest, her good leg slipping over his hip and head moving to lie next to him on the pillow.

“You’re one creepy crawly,” Michael had once told her as they were settling in for the night, his arms in a tight hold around her waist. By the morning, it would be numb, but he’d take it if it meant she stayed close. “It’s like you’re trying to get inside my skin.”

So, he thought of that moment, when Y/N asked, “Do you remember that week when Jack asked to switch around for the day shift? It was literally the worst sleep I’ve ever had. And not because of anxiety or anything else… because I just can’t fall asleep normally without you.” She lifted her eyes to his and gave a shy shrug. “I can’t do it without your weight pressed against mine, or without feeling the dip in the bed when you sleep next to me. You… you’ve burrowed inside me like that.”

The night when she’d called out of the blue came back to him.

How quickly she’d sense him slipping into the sheets beside her.

That same morning when she said she wouldn’t be able to fall asleep after he’d woken to start the day.

So many little things fell into place.

“So yeah.” Her eyes were filled with hope as she looked at him. “When you do ask me to move in, properly ask me, I will say yes. Please don’t doubt that.”

Robby was sure his heart was about to burst from his chest.

On the one hand, he hated knowing Y/N couldn’t fall asleep without him being there. She shouldn’t be losing valuable time her body could be using to heal and rest, just because of him and the job he had.

On the other, knowing the impact he had on her life, knowing just how important he was to her…

Because she was that important to him too. Whenever he was too tired after a shift and went back to his place so as to not disturb her, his mind always remained there. He fell asleep to the image of Y/N playing behind his eyelids and woke up with her voice whispering ‘good morning’ in his head.

He craved her presence, craved her smile and looks. He wanted for her mornings and evenings, and happiness and pain she might have. And for once, he felt like someone craved him that way too.

“So…” Robby knew he must be red all over from the way his body felt on fire. “Can I ask you next week then?”

Y/N chuckled, pulling him by the sleeve of his hoodie, so he could lean over her. “You’re impossible. But you’re my impossible.”

Their sighs of relief mixed together, as their lips met.

He wouldn’t tell her he was in love with her. Not yet. There was nowhere to rush.

Robby was no longer Sisyphus, rolling a boulder up a hill, only to watch it crash back down.

He was Odysseus finally returning home to his Penelope.

Tags: @kathrinemelissa A/N: I don't feel like this is my best work. I've rewritten this like three different times, and I had a couple of ideas that at the time I felt I could combine into one, but I don't think this flows as good as I would like it to, but I just really wanted to write from Robby's perspective for this one :( Part 3 is already in the works, and I'm definitely feeling better about that one :)

If you wanna be tagged, let me know :)

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