#the pitt

[spacephobos]

fucking love the pitt. they let the autistic girl chill with a dog fo a bit then her boss came in like "fucking love u girl my least troublesome intern wanna pick sooo much gravel out a dudes leg wound?" and she was just like 😀😀😀 incredible. banger autistic rep shes so me.

[bitters-n-sweets]

she's a menace — jack abbot x fem!reader While celebrating a coworker's birthday at a bar, Jack Abbot gets distracted watching his girlfriend dancing and turning heads.

warnings: suggestive content (minors go away), spicy, we love a supportive king (jack) masterlist

It's girls' night.

Meaning your dress is too short, and your heels are too high—but you feel amazing. You and your girls had pre-gamed at a bar earlier, and now on your way to the 2nd bar.

You needed this. A night to let go. A night to dance and drink overpriced cocktails and scream-laugh in a bathroom stall with your friends over absolutely nothing.

The bar is crowded, pulsing with music and low light, and when you spot the familiar silhouette at the other end, your heart does a small, surprised flip.

Jack.

He’s here. At this bar. Of all nights.

He hasn't spotted you yet, but you can see he's having a great time with his co-workers. Langdon is there, Collins too, and for once Robby is laughing without a care in the world. You want to say hi, but your friends are already dragging you to the dance floor. Besides, you're curious what he’ll do when he finally notices you.

But Jack’s already noticed.

He’s been stealing glances since you walked in, pretending not to look too long as you twirl and laugh under the flashing lights. Your dress clings in all the right places, dipping perfectly to show your cleavage, hugging every line of your body like it was stitched for sin.

Jack’s heart stutters.

The way you move isn’t for anyone in particular, but it damn well feels like a siren call—slow, confident, sensual. The dress rides up slightly as you spin, and your thigh peeks out just enough to make his breath catch.

If it weren't for Langdon calling for his attention, he would've jumped you by now.

"Yo Abbot— Damn," he whistles, "Someone’s out to kill tonight."

"You're tellin' me." Jack mutters, a proud yet hungry smile etched across his lips, "My girl knows how to put on a show, alright."

"Wait, that's your girl??" Langdon follows his gaze.

Jack nods once.

"I don't believe it." Javadi says.

"And you let her dress like that when you’re not around?"

Jack’s expression doesn’t change. "I don’t let her do anything. She can dress however she wants."

Langdon raises a brow. "Alright, modern man."

Jack sets down his glass and says calmly with a smirk, "Besides, she knows who she belongs to."

The table goes in waves of "oooh"s and whistles for half a second before someone murmurs, "Damn, okay," and they all take another shot.

Back on your side of the bar, you’re oblivious to the murmurs about you, caught up in the music and the high of the night. You wander to the bar for another drink, separated from your group for just a moment, when an uninvited man decides to make his move on you.

A guy—tall, clearly drunk, and way too confident. "Hey, beautiful," he slurs. "You look like you could use some company."

"No thanks." You say curtly.

He laughs and leans in closer anyway, eyes dropping to your dress. "You whores always try to play hard to get..."

Then his hand reaches out—fingers grazing your lower back.

He doesn’t get far.

A hand closes around his wrist, firm and alert.

"Hey, buddy—" the guy starts to protest, turning slightly, only to find himself face-to-face with your lover.

"You should walk away." Jack says with the kind of presence that makes everything in the room feel suddenly still.

The guy scoffs. "And who the fuck are you, old man?"

"I'm her man." Jack says proudly.

The guy lets out a sharp laugh. "You??"

Jack tilts his head, smile slow and cool. "Yeah. Me."

He steps in like he’s trying to size Jack up. "Why don't you go play hero somewhere else?"

"Last chance." Jack exhales once. "Back away."

Instead of listening, the guy sneers and reaches to you again—like he’s about to brush against your hip.

That’s when Jack moves.

He grabs the guy’s wrist mid-motion and twists. Not enough to do damage. Just enough to send pain shooting through the idiot’s arm.

The guy chokes out a curse, dropping back, eyes wide now.

Jack leans in slightly, stares at him like looks could kill. "You don’t want to find out what I’d do next. Now walk away."

And this time, he does. Muttering while rubbing his wrist, vanishing into the crowd.

"Hi, hero."

"Hey, trouble." He smirks, hands draping around your waist, making sure he covers the area that asshole tried to touch you. "You okay?"

"Mm-hmm," you hum. "That was kinda hot."

Jack chuckles, "Oh, honey, you're drunk."

"Yes I am," You confirm. "So what are you doing here, handsome?"

"Donnie's birthday," Jack explains, "we're celebrating. Wanna come say hi?"

"Of course." You smile.

As you approach the table, conversation dips for a beat before Santos lets out a low whistle. "No way. This is your girl, Abbot?"

Jack doesn't answer, just gently pulls you closer and kisses you to make a point. His hand settles just above the curve of your ass, thumb brushing slow circles while you lean into him.

Langdon raises his brows. "My mind is blown right now. How'd you convince her to put up with you?"

"He didn't," you say sweetly, crossing one leg over the other. "I just like a man who can handle power tools, bruised ribs… and knows exactly what he’s doing in bed."

Jack nearly chokes on his drink, and the group erupts with laughter and a few scandalized woo-hoos. He clears his throat, glancing at you with a half-smirk. “Remind me to keep you away from tequila.”

You say goodbye to Jack's coworkers and your friends—they all had their jaws on the floor when they finally saw Jack in the flesh. With screams of "you go get it girl" and "someone's gettin' some tonight" following you out, you finally leave the bar, ears flushed, heart hammering in your chest.

You take a deep breath, finally breathing cool, fresh air. Jack's given you his jacket, like the gentleman he is, and now you're walking home, hand in hand.

"You okay walking? Want me to carry you?" Jack asks, glancing sideways.

You shake your head. "Need to walk off the alcohol anyway."

He hums, "So how was your night?"

"Fun!" you say brightly, then wrinkle your nose, "Until that asshole tried touching me. Ugh."

"I'm sorry, sweetheart." Jack says, kissing your hand.

"It's okay, you were there to save me. And you made it all okay." You smile, draping his arm around your shoulders. "Though maybe it’s the dress. Maybe I shouldn’t have worn this."

"No, no, we're not gonna do that." Jack stops walking. "You said no, and he didn't listen, he's an ass, and karma will get him one day."

You hum, though Jack can tell you're still not convinced.

Jack turns to you and gently cups your cheek, his thumb grazing along your jaw. "Sweetheart. You can dress any way you like. You look stunning tonight. You always do."

You smile softly. "Okay."

His mouth curls into that slow, grinch-like smirk you know too well. "Besides... I love being the one to take off those clothes once you're done showing off."

Your gasp, then narrow your eyes playfully. "Is that a threat, Dr. Abbot?"

"Oh, baby," he says, sliding his hand from your cheek to the back of your neck, "That’s a promise."

----

a/n: kill me now || side note I have like 5 drafts all wip about this man, so help me god

[baby-yoda-is-baby]

what if you were a MED STUDENT and it was you FIRST SHIFT in emergency medicine and then you spilled MYLANTA on yourself and you had to CHANGE YOUR SCRUBS and then a patient BLED all over you and you had to CHANGE YOUR SCRUBS and RIGHT AFTER THAT a boy BARFED BLOOD all over you and you had to CHANGE YOUR SCRUBS and then a some guy PEED on you and you had to CHANGE YOUR SCRUBS and you looked like a BABY OWL

[bromple]

[abigails-ear]

Only been watching The Pitt for a few days but Mel King is THE best autistic character ever written in a medical drama. She doesn't "make connections no one else can" or "just see things differently" or any other Savant with Special Abilities stereotypical bullshit, she's a resident physician who's exactly as intelligent and capable as any other resident physician in the same year. She hates unnecessary yelling because it's loud and annoying, not because she's completely incapable of handling conflict. She usually keeps her stimming subtle enough to hide but sometimes she can't. She loves having a furry critter to pet. She accommodates an autistic patient by lowering the lights and closing the doors because she understands the sensory nightmare of an active medical setting. She speaks in a straightforward and honest way but she isn't an overtly rude inconsiderate asshole. She misses some jokes and takes things too literally on occasion but she does have a sense of humor and she is funny. She speaks up against misinformation and parent panic about autism and other developmental disabilities. She has emotions. She looks at a video of a lava lamp on her phone to chill. Doctor Mel King you have my entire heart

[ozarkthedog]

yes. yes, he is.

[romansroys]

dr robby and the terrible horrible no good very bad day

[jackabbot]

the husbands asking about each other

THE PITT • 1.01 || 1.14

[science-hoes]

POV: you’re a rat in the Pitt about to die

[showyoumyfavoriteobsession]

SHU LAN TUAN as Ginger Kitajima The Pitt (2025- )

[333ml]

heart brains guts x

[highpitttitsgabagool]

She's beauty and she's grace, bf addicted to opiates + text posts

[firebuggg]

on rewatch it’s even clearer that robby is a great mentor to everyone, but he is a much better mentor to his male trainees. he argues with them less; he is more accepting of their diagnoses around difficult cases; he is more comfortable taking them under his wing. they rarely challenge him. it takes just that much more effort from the women of the pitt — mckay, collins, and mohan especially — to argue their point of view on patient care, especially around women’s issues. and that effort weighs on them! it’s exhausting for mohan to constantly defend herself on her care choices. it’s unfair to put blame on mckay for making an extremely understandable decision about david out of concern for his female classmates. his relationship with collins is inappropriate — at minimum it likely gets in the way of her professional development (note that langdon was the one recommended for that fellowship, without even asking robby for it).

i appreciate this writing choice a lot. robby is extremely likable and a compelling center of the story. he makes the right decision for his female patients many times, including giving a teenage girl a chance at reproductive freedom at personal risk. he’s supportive of the women in his department and wants them to do well.

but still. it’s there. and he doesn’t even know it.

[superhoeva]

so happy you liked my "you're soaked, sweetheart" with robby and jack sexting because i really really loved what you wrote you're feeding me some good stuff here love your writing girrrrl. as a thanks: when you wrote about her inviting robby for her weekend with jack i had a vision!!

robby arriving a bit late at her apartment, but he has a spare key, there's some snacks on the living room and tv still on forgotten, but he can hear her moans and jack grunts. when he enters her bedroom he finds jack fucking her from behind, pounding her ass as she begs for more, while he uses the vibrator on her pussy and clit. "finally, her pussy been waiting for you, man."

🤒 just jack fucking her silly while robby finger her dumbly at the same time until she's a crying mess begging to one of them fill her pussy with a dick

ANON YOU'RE KILLING ME BABE <3

tw(s): mmf threesome, m/m kiss (AND WHAT ABOUT IT??), penetrative sex, female pronouns/anatomy used, butt stuff/anal, double penetration (mentioned), bodily fluids, language, dirty talk, bratty!ready, toys (vibrator) spanking (like 1), you got fuck bad bitches at the same damn time like... they're obsessed with you fr. 18+/mdni. (w/c: 1.1k, my bad)

you can barely breathe. jack’s got himself halfway stuffed into your ass, and your body is releasing more air than it’s taking in.

you’re face down, ass up atop the mattress, clenching jack and the covers as he ruts into you with a bit lip from behind.

“fuck, jack. d-don’t stop. please,” you drool out against the sheets beneath you, and jack’s mouth bends with a slight smirk.

“wouldn’t dream of it, gorgeous,” he voices, hands grabbing at your hips with rough palms. his jaw drops a little at the sight of you as he hammers his hips to your’s, much too distracted by the rippling of your ass to notice robby’s and his quirked head at the entrance of the room.

the other man stands frozen, gaze zooming to where you and abbot meet as one. the image flushes his skin with a lingering heat, rattling an echo that shakes all the way down to his cock. robby squirms at the way he starts to chub in his pants, and the floor squeaking under him is what finally gives him away.

flicking his eyes across the room, jack continues his pounding of you with a hello to robby in the form of a jutting chin.

“nice of you to finally join us,” jack winks just as you drag your head from the bed to glance across the room. your eyes twinkle a little when robby’s face melts into a warm grin at you. “pussy’s been waiting on you, man… isn’t that right, baby?”

you nod, completely dazed, with your hands reaching out to call robby further into the room. he floats to you instantly, crawling onto the bed with a grunt to kiss at the lips you pucker his way. pecking you twice, he pulls back to look at the way jack keeps the driving of his cock inside you.

“j, wa–fuck, hold on…”

“thought you didn’t want me to stop?” abbot’s teasing would’ve been funny if you could think straight.

“i-i don’t–it’s just. wanna talk to robby for a sec,” you whine out shakily, but jack doesn’t let up. you groan, throwing your head back face-first into the bed with clenched eyes. robby keeps his giggle silent as he looks over you and abbot, who just grunts through a smirk at your squeeze around him.

“and what am i? chopped liver?”

“jack…”

“fine, doll,” jack huffs a laugh, blowing out a breath as he slows his hips to a smooth stop before popping his cock from your asshole with a hiss. you nearly choke at the sudden emptiness. blinking, you take the second to rub your damp forehead and sniff. 

“hi, mikey,” you finally slur out, popping yourself on your elbows with shaky arms while jack rubs smoothing circles at the small of your back.

“hi, sweetheart,” he coos, unable to resist the urge to kiss you again. “you doin’ okay?”

jack snickers behind you, palming at your cheeks with a greedy grab as you answer.

“mmhm… you’re late, though.”

“i know, ‘m sorry,” robby rubs a delicate hand across your cheek. “got caught up with a few charts, but jack’s been takin’ good care of you yeah?”

you bob your head. drunk on robby’s attention and jack’s heat at your rear.

“always. you forgot his kiss, though… and you’re too dressed,” you pout, causing robby to release a deep chuckle.

“oh, did i?”

sure did, jack mumbles from behind you and robby bends his neck to stare at abbot. the two catch eyes as robby rises from the bed, and you make sure to throw a stare over your shoulder to catch the incoming sight.

 a toasting feeling settles nicely at the pit of your belly when robby plants a hand at the base of jack’s neck and yank him in close, their tongues and lips tangling in a deep snog. they only pull away when they hear the whimper that tumbles from you, jack’s eyes darkening at the sound.

“see something you like?”

your purposefully slow nod earns you a smack on the ass from jack, and robby’s chest rises with an unexpected breath. the air subsequently traps itself when you flick your eyes to him. he wants to groan when you switch on the puppy dog eyes but doesn’t.

“mikey?”

fuck. he can taste the sweet dripping from your tone, and it nearly buckles his knees. jack just laughs at the expression on his face, already knowing that the man was going to break…

aaaand it takes a measly six minutes for jack to be proven right because… he’s always right.

sitting at the head of your bed now, jacks holds your arms tight while you thrash with your back at his chest.

it’s taking everything in him not to grunt any louder than he already is with the way your ass is squeezed back around him–even tighter than before despite the fact that robby pulled the vibrator away already. jack can’t blame you, however, as robby’s switched to slurping a mess at your slit with a tongue that all three of you know he’s a master of working.

you whine and cry through your parted legs and helpless squirm, begging for the men to finally fill the hole that’s been leaking since jack kissed you at the beginning of the evening with a wine-flavored tongue.

“please, mikey,” you plead, eyes rolling at just how full your ass feels with jack’s thickness pulsing inside. “want you inside me, too. wanna feel both of you so bad.”

jack holds your chin, tracing a thumb across the skin as robby flicks his tongue from you with a throat-bobbling swallow. licking his lips, his beard shines slick with your juices as he gazes at you through his.

“want your pussy nice and full, too? hm?”

uh, yeah. yes, what are they not getting? robby pairs the inquiry with a harsh rub to your clit after you sob out a teary yes. he holds you open when your legs try to clench, planting one last dip of his tongue inside your slit before raising to palm at his hard cock. he jerks himself, only sliding the tip inside you before pulling away with a quick look at abbot.

“gotta stretch you first a little, baby,” jack murmurs in your ear, allowing you to sag against him in an understandable sulk. the tiny but ‘m already ready from you makes no difference, and robby’s words hit you with resonance due to the two fingers he slips inside you while speaking.

“that’s what you said last time, angel, ended up having to call off from a shift last time you took both of us, remember?”

“well, it’s not my fault your dicks are so big…”

your sass is immediately met with a subtle shuffle of jack, and you wail at how his cock shifts inside you. robby flicks his stare from the way you pussy devours his fingers to your face, his eyebrows raised and voice raspy in a knowing warning.

“keep it up and you’ll make him make me just finish you off that vibrator over there…”

© 𝐬𝐮𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐡𝐨𝐞𝐯𝐚

[rynwrites4fun]

Across The Hall (5) | Michael Robinavitch x Neighbor/Teacher ! Reader

Michael Robinavitch x F! Neighbor/Teacher ! Reader

Summary: It’s Career Day at school, and your boyfriend, who was supposed to talk about his job as a lawyer, cancels at the last minute due to a development in his case. When you tell Michael, he offers to step in and talk about being an ER doctor instead.

Word Count: 4340

Warnings: Age Gap (Mid 20s/Early 50s)

Authors Note: okay I know what you’re thinking….I know I said the next time I post wouldn’t be until first week of June… I lied…well more caved lol. I’m currently sick and at SUCH an inconvenient time for me. Like all the times for me to get sick and I get sick now. So here I am posting this to make me feel better lol. Anyway here is part 5. This is one of my favorite parts and I think you guys will like it too :) So THIS will have to hold you over until Part 6 that won’t be posted until JUNE lol. Also someone yell or scream at me to write and update Eyes On Me!!! Ya girls been too focused on Across The Hall. I left Jack Abbot hanging. How dare I??? Okay see you June. Freal this time. - ryn

“I can’t make it,” he says through the phone.

“What?” You already knew what he meant—career day. The one he promised he wouldn’t miss.

“We have an important meeting with the man we’re defending…”

“Aiden, you promised. My students are going to be disappointed. They’ve been looking forward to this all week—” Your voice cracks. There’s no backup plan. No one else to step in.

“He’s got something to confess. It’s going to change the entire trajectory of the case.”

And with that, you know. He has to go. It’s his job.

“Okay” you say, swallowing the pain down. “I…I understand”

You try to respond, but the lump in your throat makes it hard. Instead, you manage, “Good luck.”

A soft sigh comes through the line. “Thanks. I’ll call you later.”

No sorry. No “I’ll make it up to you.” Nothing.

Just the dull click of the call ending, like a door closing without a glance back.

You stare at the screen until it goes dark, your reflection staring back—tired eyes, tight jaw, the ache settling in deep and familiar. You want to scream. Or cry. Or both. But there’s no time.

It took everything just to sit up in bed.

You moved on autopilot—shower, clothes, coffee you barely tasted. Standing in front of the mirror, mascara wand trembling in your hand, you told yourself not to cry. Not today. Not on Career Day.

But the tears came anyway. Quiet, stubborn.

You dabbed at your face with a tissue, trying to fix the smudges.

You stared at your reflection, willing yourself to look like someone who had it all under control. Someone whose day wasn’t already unraveling.

Because today mattered.

Your students had been excited to meet a real lawyer, and now you weren’t sure what you were supposed to do. Panic swirled beneath the surface as your mind raced, trying to figure out how you were going to salvage the day. 

___

Michael left his apartment, expecting to see you come out. You didn’t. His face fell slightly. It wasn’t like you. Normally you’d leave around the same time he did for work. He stood there for a few minutes. 

hen you still didn’t appear, he sighed and headed toward the elevator. The doors slid open with a soft chime, and he stepped inside, trying not to let the quiet absence bother him.

“Wait!” you called out, your sneakers thud frantically against the tile as you rushed toward the elevator at the end of the hall. The doors were just beginning to slide closed, but Michael’s hand shot out, stopping them.

You slipped inside, breathing hard. “Thank you,” you mumbled.

Today was not your morning. Michael could tell the moment he saw you. Michael didn’t say anything right away. He just watched you as you stood there, clutching your water bottle like a lifeline, eyes unfocused and distant.

“You okay?” he asked finally, his voice gentle.

Two words but they cracked something in.

“I have career day at school today,” you said, the words tumbling out before you could stop them. “Aiden was supposed to do a presentation for my students, you know talk about being a lawyer”

Of course it’s something to do with Aiden, Michael thought. It always circles back to him.

“He promised he’d be there,” you continued, voice trembling. “something big came up with his case…”

You paused, blinking hard, trying not to break. “I spent the morning getting ready crying like an idiot, and now I’m just… trying to figure out how to fix it. For them.”

Your eyes didn’t meet his, but he was already moving close towards you. 

There was a short silence.

“I could do it,” he said, the words flying out his mouth before he could even think.

You blinked. “What?”

“I said I can do it. Career Day. I’ll come in.” He repeated, more firmly now. 

“You’re… serious?”

“Yeah, I mean—I could come talk to your class. About emergency medicine, or the ER, show them some tools, answer their questions… whatever your kids want to know.”

 “But don’t you work today? You got a whole ER full of patients and–”

“I’m sure my buddy Abbot would cover for an hour or two.” 

“You’d really do that?” you say in disbelief.

He gave a small shrug, but there was nothing casual about the way he looked at you.

“Yeah, of course,” he said—simple, easy. But his eyes lingered.

I’d do anything for you, he wanted to say.

There was something soft in his gaze, something protective. You were sweet—too sweet—and it stirred something in him he didn’t quite know how to name.

 “Just tell me when to show up and what you need. I’ll make it work.”

You couldn’t help it, you lit up. A full, radiant smile that overtook your whole face. Michael had never seen you smile like that before, not even on your best days. It was pure relief, gratitude.

You let out a joyful shriek, bouncing on your toes. “Thank you, Michael!” you exclaim, before throwing your arms around him in a sudden, heartfelt hug.

He chuckled at your excited shriek, the sound pulling a smile from him. The hug caught him off guard for just a second—but then his arms instinctively wrapped around you, holding you close. He liked this—holding you. It felt warm. Easy. Right.

You pulled back slightly, still smiling, your hands lingering on his arms. “Here, let me give you my number. I’ll text you the time and details. Exchanging numbers is long overdue"

Michael reached into his pocket for his phone, already unlocking it. “Better late than ever" he jokes. "Go ahead.” getting ready to dial your number.

You rattled off your number, watching him type it in. A moment later, your phone buzzed in your pocket, you pull it out—Michael Robinavitch flashed across the top of a new text.

“Got it" you smile.

The elevator stopped and the doors slid open.

Already stepping out, rushing toward the lobby doors. The weight on your chest felt suddenly lighter.

“I’ve got to run a few things by the principal before first bell!” you added, walking backward for a step before turning to jog the rest of the way.

“You’re a lifesaver!” you called out, glancing over your shoulder.

Michael raised an eyebrow, grinning. “Well… that is kind of my job!”

“I’ll text you soon!” you shouted and vanished out the front doors and into the city.

Michael watched you run off, then slowly stepped out into the lobby. He lingered there before finally pulling out his phone again.

He scrolled through his messages and tapped on a name: Jack Abbott.

His fingers hovered for a moment over the keyboard—hesitant—then he began to type.

Hey, any chance you can cover my shift for a few hours today?

Yeah, I can swing that. Just let me know what time. Everything okay?

Michael paused for a second, thumb hovering over the screen. Then he continued typing:

Yeah. Just need to take care of something important.

A few dots blinked, then the reply came back:

Got it. Hope everything’s okay. Let me know if you need anything.

Michael read the message. Then he locked his phone, slipped it back into his pocket, and finally set off to work.

—-

“Jack! Thanks for coming in, man,” Michael said, pulling his friend into a quick hug as he met him by the employee/authorized personnel entry point. 

Jack clapped him on the back. “Yeah, no sweat. You okay?” Jack asked, slinging his army backpack over one shoulder as they walked through the ER.

“Yeah, I’m fine. Just… my neighbor needed a favor,” Michael muttered, rubbing the back of his neck.

Jack raised an eyebrow. “Oh…that neighbor, huh?”

Michael looks at Jack, trying to rack his brain. Had he ever brought you up? He didn’t think so. Maybe once, late at night on the hospital roof? Or after that brutal shift, drinking beers on the bench at the park across the street? The memory’s hazy, softened by exhaustion.

Jack breaks the silence. “Dana might’ve mentioned her a week or so ago. Asked if I knew anything. I told her it was all news to me.”

Michael exhales sharply, a tired sigh pulled from somewhere deep. “Of course she did.”

Michael exhaled, already regretting the explanation. “She’s a 5th grade teacher. It’s career day at her school. Her boyfriend, a hotshot lawyer, bailed on her, so… I offered to fill in.”

Jack stopped mid-step, forcing Michael to halt as well. He looked Michael dead in the eye, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. “You like her.”

“What? No,” Michael said quickly, shaking his head and furrowing his brows. “It’s not like that.”

“That’s not what Dana said” he scoffs a laugh.

Michael runs a hand through his hair. “She’s a kid.”

Even as the words left his mouth, the lie stung. You’re not a kid. You’re a woman—smart, passionate, kind, beautiful—and yeah, younger than him. Way younger. But a kid? No. That wasn’t the truth. Not even close.

And despite everything, despite liking you, he knew one thing for certain: You deserved all the love in the world. The kind that’s attentive. That gives real attention. That cherishes you, sees you, hears you, takes care of you. A love you don’t have to beg for.

“How old is she?”

Michael was hesitant “Twenty-five…”

Jack exhales, loudly, obnoxiously and nods like he’s doing the math in his head.

“Okay, so maybe she’s on the younger side. But so what? If you like her, go for it.” He shrugs

“She’s a sweet girl, but her boyfriend’s—”

Jack raises an eyebrow. “Boyfriend?”

Michael nods slowly. “Yeah. He’s…”

“A jackass” Jack finished, grinning. 

Michael lets out a reluctant laugh as they continue walking. “That’s a kinder way to describe him than I would’ve, but sure. I haven’t met the guy officially, but from what I’ve gathered—and what I’ve seen…the way he treats her is infuriating.”

They walked in silence for a moment, the hum of monitors and distant voices filling the space between them.

“I’m just helping her out,” Michael said quietly.

Jack let the silence stretch, then chuckled. “Right. Just doing your neighborly duty.”

Michael rolled his eyes. “Shut up.”

Jack raised an eyebrow, a slow grin spreading across his face. “You’re stepping in for the jackass.”

Michael sighed. “It’s just career day.”

“With the woman you definitely don’t like.”

Michael shot him a look. “I’m doing a favor for a neighbor. She’s a friend. That’s it.” 

Jack didn’t say anything right away. They passed a nurse wheeling a patient toward imaging, a tech calling out vitals, the steady buzz of hospital life around them.

Jack nudged him with his elbow, grinning. “Showing up to a fifth-grade classroom in the middle of your shift—in scrubs, no less—to impress a woman who’s already taken? Damn, I didn’t know you were that kind of guy, Robby”

Michael rolled his eyes, recognizing the teasing tone. Jack was clearly trying to push his buttons and enjoying every second of it.

Michael gives him an exasperated look “I’m not trying to impress anyone!”

Jack chuckled. “Sure. Just keep telling yourself that. I know you man. You're doing that thing where you convince yourself you’re being “noble” when really you just want to spend more time with her.”

He did like spending time with you—God, how he loved it.

Being with you, he felt like himself. He didn’t have to be anyone else.

His feelings had bled into the friendship, slowly, unknowingly, until this moment—when he realized just how deep they really were.

Michael didn’t answer right away. He shoved his hands in his pockets, eyes fixed ahead. “She’s got a boyfriend,” he muttered. “Not my business—”

“—But if it was your business…”

“Jack,” Michael said, his tone warning.

“All right, all right.” Jack held up his hands in mock surrender, still smirking. “I’ll drop it. Just—don’t get your heart tangled up in something you can’t have.”

They continued walking, the hum of the ER fading behind them as they neared the staff room.

Jack dropped his bag onto the bench and glanced over at Michael, who was busy opening his locker to grab his backpack.

“I’ll be back in an hour or two,” Michael said, slinging the strap of his bag over his shoulder.

“Well,” Jack replied with a smirk, “all I gotta say is good luck with career day, doc. Oh, and try not to fall in love in front of a bunch of fifth-graders.”

Michael shot him a look.

“Okay, that was the last one, promise,” Jack added, flashing a playful grin.

Michael shook his head, mock scowl in place as he shut his locker. But the laugh that followed gave him away. Jack always knew how to get under his skin—even when he didn’t really mind.

“I’ll see you later,” Michael said, heading for the door.

—

Michael appeared at your classroom door just after lunch. He scanned the room with curious eyes before locking onto yours. You were seated at your desk, pretending to focus on grading, but your shoulders relaxed the moment you saw him.

“Hey,” he said, voice low and warm, like he’d just stepped into familiar territory.

He was in his scrubs. A backpack was slung over one shoulder, and a large black duffle hung from the other hand. His hair was still damp from the rain, strands falling slightly out of place. Despite it all, his smile was easy and genuine—the kind that disarmed you every time.

“Hi,” you said as you stood, trying to ramp down the sudden wave of relief that swept over you.

“Give me a few minutes to get them ready,” you said quietly, stepping around your desk. “You can hang out over there—or whatever's comfortable.”

Michael nodded and moved further inside, setting his bag down near your desk. He didn’t say anything, but you could feel his eyes on you—curious, observant—as you took charge of the room.

You clapped twice, your attention-getter snapping the students to attention. “Alright, friends—workbooks away and eyes on me. Show me you’re ready.”

There was a shuffle of papers and pencil boxes before stillness settled over the room. You smiled as you looked over your class, then turned toward Michael.

“Fifth graders,” you began, “I mentioned earlier that our original guest speaker for career day unfortunately couldn’t make it today. But we are very lucky, Dr. Robinavitch has stepped in! He’s an emergency room doctor”

Michael gave a small wave, his calm energy immediately balancing the room. “Hi everyone. I’m Dr. Robinavitch, but I also go by Dr. Robby for short. So, who here knows what an ER doctor does?”

A few hands shot up. One student shouted, “You fix broken arms!”

Michael nodded. “Yep. Broken arms, heads, stomachs, you name it. I’m kind of like a detective for people’s bodies—I have to figure out what’s wrong, fast, and sometimes fix it even faster.”

You move toward the back of your classroom, taking a seat off to the side by the last row of students, giving Michael the space, the floor, and the kids’ full attention. Their eyes are wide, some leaning forward on their desks, completely hooked.

Another student asked, “Do you see blood? Like, a lot of blood?”

He chuckled. “More than I’d like before breakfast.”

The class erupted into laughter, and you saw your students leaning forward, totally hooked. Michael had that quiet, steady charm that translated surprisingly well in front of fifth graders.

He pulled a stethoscope from his bag and held it up. “Okay, who wants to hear their own heartbeat?”

Nearly every hand shot up.

As he walked between desks, letting kids take turns listening to heartbeats, he told quick stories—about a kid who came in after eating five magnets, about a teenager who got his finger stuck in a soda can tab, about the night someone walked in with a LEGO in their nose.

Your class hung on every word. 

And so did you. 

You told yourself it was harmless—just admiration.

He was incredible with the kids. Patient. Warm. Confident without ever showing off. He knelt beside their desks like what they had to say truly mattered. And they loved him for it.

You watched him move through the room with such ease—laughing, listening, crouching like he had all the time in the world. The kids adored him. And honestly… so did you.

It wasn’t anything dramatic. Just a flutter. A pull. A feeling you tried not to name.

He was older. Way older. Old enough to be your father, technically—though he never made you feel small. He treated you as an equal. He was attentive, like what you had to say truly mattered. With him, you felt heard. Seen. 

And that was dangerous.

You admired how he carried himself—his quiet confidence, his easy intelligence, his kindness that felt so steady and real. It was natural to admire someone like that… wasn’t it?

But still, you felt it, that creeping awareness that maybe it wasn’t just admiration.

You had a boyfriend.

You weren’t supposed to notice the way Michael’s sleeves were always rolled just above his elbows, or how his voice softened when he spoke to the shy kid in the back row. You weren’t supposed to feel that flutter in your chest every time he smiled.

Aiden wasn’t like that.

He wasn’t an ER doctor who knelt beside desks and told stories that made your class laugh. He didn’t have that kind of calm, steady presence. That patience. That warmth.

You closed your eyes for a beat, trying to push the comparison away before it could settle in too deep. But it was already there, growing.

Because the truth was, your boyfriend didn’t make people light up the way Micahel did. Especially not you.

Michael was just volunteering his time. Helping out. Doing you a favor. And yet somehow, he was more present, more reliable, more engaged than the person you were actually dating.

One of your students leaned over and whispered, “Miss, is Dr. Robby, your boyfriend?” They giggled. 

Your heart did a small, traitorous flip.

You cleared your throat and forced a smile. “No, he’s just a friend.”

But in that moment, you realized—maybe you were starting to wish he wasn’t.

Micahel continued to tell stories, answer questions, he eventually brought out his duffle bag onto the carpet and pulled out a CPR training dummy. He demonstrated to the kids how to do CPR, then split the kids into groups and had them practice. 

As the visit draws and the last group of students had a turn at doing CPR on the dummy, you headed towards the front of your classroom, clapped your hands once to get their attention. 

“Alright, everyone, what do we say to Dr. Robby?”

A chorus of voices rang out, bright and genuine: “Thank you!”

Michael smiled, a hand over his heart. “You’re very welcome.”

“Alright everyone we’re gonna start getting ready for 2nd recess. Go line up by the back door!” 

As the students made their way to form a line, you turned toward Michael. He was slinging on his backpack and grabbing his duffle bag, ready to head out.

“Thank you for coming in, Michael. Seriously. The kids loved you.” you said with a smile. 

He gave a modest shrug. “No problem. I actually had a lot of fun. Your kids are great. Really bright…Not the little gremlins you always make them out to be.”

You laughed, shaking your head. “Don’t let one good day fool you. They were on their best behavior for you.”

“I gotta head to get back to the ER to finish my shift, but I’ll see you at home.”

At home.

The words lingered. A small, traitorous thought crept in.

You knew he didn’t mean it like that. He lived across the hall, nothing more.

You let yourself imagine it. What would it be like if he did come home to you? After a long day at school for you, a long shift at the ER for him. Kicking off your shoes, swapping stories over takeout, falling asleep on the couch together, exhausted but content.

You’d had a little glimpse, a taste of what it could be like that night the two of you had carried your heavy box up six flights. Somehow that led to him staying to help build your shelf. He’d sat on your apartment floor, building and talking to you while you cooked.

You could never forget how natural, comforting, easy—safe—that moment had felt.

It was stupid. Just a fantasy. Just a somewhat innocent thought, but the idea of him and you? That  thought made your heart pound. 

“R-right, I’ll see you at home” 

“Bye” he smiled, before heading out the door

You gave him a small wave “Bye” 

—

That night you knocked on Michael’s door.

He opened it, no longer in his scrubs but dressed in a soft, casual t-shirt and joggers. His hair was slightly tousled, like he’d finally had a chance to relax.

He raised an eyebrow, leaning against the frame. “There isn’t a baking disaster, is there?”

“What? No,” you said, frowning slightly, caught off guard. “Why would there be a baking disaster?”

“I don’t know…” he teased, a playful smile tugging at his lips. “Last time you came knocking on my door at night, you’d smoked out your apartment baking cookies.”

He chuckled.

“No Garfield PJs this time… No emergency… nothing’s jammed, all is good!” you added with an embarrassed laugh.

“I just… wanted to give you these. There from my class,” you added, holding out a bundle of colorful cards and drawings the students had made.

Michael straightened, surprised, then took the stack from your hands. It was full of crayon hearts, stick-figure doctors, and shaky handwriting that said things like Thank you, Dr. Robby! and You’re cool!

His smile softened as he shifted through them, taking a quick look. “Wow…This is really sweet. Tell them I said thank you”

“I will,” you said, your eyes lingering on him. “But seriously, thank you, Michael. You didn’t just make their day… you made mine, too.”

You gave a small smile, letting it hang for a beat before adding, softer now, “You’re a good man. Thoughtful. Steady. The kind of guy people can count on. You didn’t have to show up like that, but you did."

Before you could second-guess it, you rose up on your toes and pressed a soft kiss to his bearded cheek.

It was gentle. Brief. But the air shifted between you the moment your lips touched his skin.

Michael stood still, breath caught somewhere between his lungs and throat.

That kiss, barely there, soft as a sigh, lingered longer than it should’ve. Not on his cheek, but in his chest.

Your hands drifted down his chest, and he felt every inch like it had been branded.

He should’ve stepped back. Said something.

But all he could do was look at you.

You weren’t smiling, not really—but your eyes held something else. Something braver. Warmer. Something that pulled at the part of him he tried so hard to keep buried.

Before you or Michael could say anything another voice called out through the hall. 

“Babe?” 

It was Aiden. He didn’t tell you he was coming over. You move away quickly from Michael.. 

“Aiden? What are you doing here?”

He walked toward you, a bouquet in hand.

“I got you your favorite flowers,” he said, smiling. “Thanks for understanding that I couldn’t make it today.”

You stared at the roses in his hand.They weren’t your favorite. Not even close. But maybe it was the thought that counted.

You stood there for a second too long, your eyes flicking to the flowers, then to Michael—still standing just behind you, quiet, unreadable.

But your mind wasn’t on the bouquet.

It was on the kiss you gave Michael.

You hadn’t planned it. It had just… happened. Soft. Simple. Barely more than a brush of lips against his cheek. But it landed heavier than it should have, echoing louder now that Aiden was here, smiling.

You told yourself it was nothing.

You told yourself it didn’t mean anything.

You took the flowers and managed a small smile. “Thank you… they’re beautiful.”

Michael stood frozen, watching the scene unfold in front of his door.

He couldn’t believe the audacity. Aiden actually thought that no apology—and a last-minute bouquet of roses, no less—would make everything okay? Roses weren’t even your favorite flowers. Tulips were.

But what stunned him more… you took them. You actually took them.

He wasn’t just shocked by Aiden. He was shocked by you.

After everything—after how much this day had meant to your students, to you—you still accepted the flowers?

Aiden hadn’t shown up. He hadn’t even acknowledged how important today was. And yet, somehow, that didn’t seem to matter.

You’d been counting on him. And he let you down without a second thought.

Michael’s jaw tensed, but the feeling in his chest wasn’t just anger. It was confusing. Frustration. And something else—something quieter, deeper.

Just seconds ago, you’d kissed his cheek. Soft. Unassuming. 

He had no right to read into it. He knew that.

But still—it meant something, didn’t it?

Now, standing there, watching you smile faintly as Aiden handed you flowers like it was enough, Michael found himself asking the one question he couldn’t shake:

Why him?

What did you see in Aiden, really?

Because from where Michael stood, he didn’t look like a partner. He looked like an obligation. A habit. A mistake you hadn’t realized you were still making.

And that bothered Michael more than he wanted to admit.

Aiden pulls you into a hug, and kisses you on the forehead. 

“Who’s this?” Aiden asked, nodding toward Michael.

“Oh—this is Michael, my neighbor. Michael, this is my boyfriend, Aiden.”

Aiden stepped forward, offering a hand. “Hey, how’s it going?”

Michael didn’t move. “Hey,” he said flatly, eyes cool, hands gripping the notes and drawings your students had made him.

The shift was immediate. Just moments ago, Michael had been teasing you, relaxed and easy. Now, he stood like a brick wall—closed off, unreadable.

And you noticed, you felt it.

Aiden awkwardly retracted his hand.

“I’ve got a double shift, so I should head to bed,” Michael said abruptly to you. 

“Oh…okay, well–”

“Goodnight,” he cut in, already turning away. A moment later, the door shut firmly behind him. 

The thud of the door causes you to jump slightly. 

Aiden scoffed. “Jeez. That guy’s rude. What's his problem?” He turned toward your door. “Hey, have you made dinner yet? I’m starving.”

He walked inside without waiting for an answer.

You stayed where you were, fingers still holding the flowers, rooted outside Michael’s door. You didn’t move. Didn’t want to.

Your eyes stayed on the door he’d shut, like he was in a hurry to get away.

You told yourself not to take it personally. He was tired. It didn’t matter.

But you couldn’t shake the feeling that something important had just slipped away.

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