Books and tea and tears

trying writing as a creative outlet, because there's so many books and characters that I love! (23)

[booksandteaandtears]

Masterlist

Hi, welcome to my creative outlet! I'm a law student who's trying to write things that aren't just legal arguments. I get inspired by what I watch and read, so the list is somewhat random. Some are x reader, some are with original characters. Your reblogs mean the world to me❤️

Please enjoy!

requests here

❃ list below the cut!

The Pitt

❃ Dr. Robby

Dr. Michael Robinavitch x f!prosecutor!reader

Teaching Hospital Building Something A much needed conversation You're my only you A proposal

improvements (Doctor Robby x the new chief medical officer)

part 1 (coming soonish) part 2 part 3 part 4 part 5

A Sunday Kind of Love

In sickness and in health

❃ Dr. Abbot

Dr. Jack Abbot x famous!wife

And to my darling husband! instagram

Dr Jack Abbot x sunshine f!attending!wife!reader

That's your wife? sunshine version Close calls: the first time Close calls: the second time Close calls: the third time (coming later)

That's your wife? thunder version (Dr. Jack Abbot x f!attending!wife!reader)

Makeshift veterinarian (Dr. Jack Abbot x f!cop!reader)

E.R.

❃ Dr. Carter

a love lost

Peaky Blinders

❃ Tommy Shelby - series (on hold for now)

When the Bleak Midwinter has Passed (Tommy Shelby x ofc)

[booksandteaandtears]

a love lost

early season 4 doctor John Carter x old girlfriend! reader

summary: you broke Carter's heart when you were teenagers, now you've unexpectedly arrived in his ER. 3.3 k words

angsty with fluff - mentions broken hearts and a broken leg, as alway not medically accurate

If you are following me bc of the Pitt, please watch ER it's absolutely fantastic!

masterlist

"EMT incoming, 26 year old woman, got hit in the leg by a marble statue down at the Chicago History Museum. Vitals stable."

Mark Greene snapped on a pair of gloves and turned to face Jerry. "When are they coming in?"

"Dispatch said five minutes."

The ER had been kind of slow that day, though nobody had been stupid enough to say that out loud. It was a cool spring day, not yet warm enough for outside activities with high injury potential, but not so cold that it was icy out, so traffic was low at County General. Carter was taking full advantage of the slow day and was napping in exam room 6 when doctor Greene threw the door open.

"Up and at them, Carter. We've got an incoming in three minutes." Greene turned around and left.

"Right." Murmured Carter. He turned around to go back to sleep.

A minute later Carol barged in. "Carter! Get up. Incoming in two, Mark is calling for you."

"Right, right!" Carter sat up and rubbed his eyes. He looked at his watch. 10:30 AM. That means he'd been sleeping for a good hour, which, he thought to himself, just about cancelled out the 28 hours of sleep he'd missed in the past couple of weeks.

He left the room, stumbling over his own feet while he tried to put on his gloves. He'd been here for 48 hours now, having taken over some shifts from his colleagues and not realising he was on call right after that shift. Mercifully the nurses had let him sleep and doctor Greene had taken most cases.

He was rubbing his eyes with the back of his hand when the EMT came in.

"Twenty six year old female, leg got trapped underneath a statue down at the museum. Complained of pain in the trapped leg, good radial pulse in the foot. Vitals are stable, but she passed out about 7 minutes ago. Presumably from the pain."

"From the pain? Didn't you guys give her some morphine?" Mark asked, wheeling the gurney towards trauma 1.

"Nope, she said she has an opioid allergy, told us we could treat with fentanyl but we don't have any in the rig 'cause people kept stealing it. She passed out before we could ask about other options and we didn't wanna risk it."

Carter stopped for a second. His grandmother was in the Chicago History Museum that morning, preparing for some fundraiser that afternoon.

For a second his heart jumped with worry, but his grandmother could not be mistaken for a 26 year old, nog matter how lively she was. She'd asked him several times the past month if he'd be able to join her in preparing for the fundraiser, but he had the excuse of working the ER. She'd been persistent, telling him to swap shifts with someone so he could join her.

Now he could see why she'd been so adamant about it.

His heart stopped a little when he saw you lying on the gurney, face pale, eyes closed.

He couldn't really process what was in front of him. He hadn't seen you in seven years. You'd changed, grown older, become a woman instead of a girl, but to him you were as beautiful as the day you'd left.

The day you'd left. Carter could feel himself getting angry when he thought about it.

He snapped out of it when doctor Greene called for him. "Carter! Come on, take a look at the leg." He turned to the EMT's, "Did she say if she has a true opioid allergy or if it's a pseudoallergy?"

"No, sorry doc, didn't think to ask."

"That's alright. Let's treat it as a true allergy until she can tell us what it is. Come on Carter, what are you so slow for? What do you wanna do about pain management?"

Carter swallowed and peeled his focus from your face. "It's a true allergy." He murmured.

"What? Speak up Carter, these machines are loud."

"It's a true allergy. She's allergic to morphinans, but she can take benzos or fentanils."

Mark looked up at the intern. "Do you know her?"

Carter finally felt his body move toward the bed, his training kicking in. "Yeah, we used to- used to be friends."

"Right. Friends." Mark raised his brows at his intern and Carol hid a smile. "Any other allergies we should know off? Medical history?"

"No other allergies, she broke her ribs 10 years ago but that's all I know. I haven't seen her in seven years."

"Okay, let's get to work then, you can reacquaint yourselves later."

You woke up in a yellow room, a little disoriented by the amount of people around you and the unfamiliar sounds. A lady with dark curls was standing near your head, giving you a soft smile as you took in your surroundings.

"Patient's waking up, I guess the fentanyl is working." She said to the doctor at the end of your bed.

There were two men in green scrubs there, one looked awfully familiar. You tried to remember him when the other doctor with the glasses started talking to you.

"Ma'am, you've broken your leg pretty badly. You're in County General Hospital and we're going to make sure you're alright. We're going to set your leg to stabilise it, it's going to hurt a little. You might need surgery later today but we're going to do some more test to determine the next steps."

You hissed as he grabbed your leg, two nurses stabilising it while he pulled the bone back where it should be. A scream left your mouth before you realised it. It was more the shock of feeling your leg move that way than any actual pain, considering the fentanyl in your system.

Brown eyes flashed towards your face immediately, and you could finally place John's presence. As soon as you made eye contact, Carter left the room. Greene called after him, but he stormed off.

"Was that John? John Carter?" You croaked. Greene nodded at you and checked your IV.

"Yeah, that's Carter. He told me you were friends but I have a feeling there's something more there?"

"We used to be, but he's ignored me for the past seven years. I moved to New York to study history, things didn't end so well."

"Ah. Did he break your heart?" Doctor Greene looked at you expectantly.

"I'm afraid I broke his."

"Well, for now let's focus on your broken leg. You're lucky. It's a clean break, no crush injury like we were afraid of. I'll get Carter in to give you a cast, we'll monitor you for a couple of hours and then you're good to go home."

The door to your room opened a couple of hours later. The fentanyl had mostly worked off and you were feeling more clear headed. You could feel your heartbeat pick up in anticipation of who'd be coming through the door. Every time someone had come in you'd been hoping it was John, but it was always one of the nurses or doctor Greene checking on you.

John stopped in the doorway for only a second. You hadn't been able to get a good look in the trauma room and seeing him again stirred something in you. He was no longer the boy you'd left behind in Chicago. He'd filled out, his broad shoulders stretching the green of his scrubs. His face had grown more mature, more angular. His eyes looked tired, but they were the same beautiful brown as they'd always been. You'd tried to remember his face the past seven years, but it had been hard. Seeing it again made you relive every memory of him.

"Hi." You whispered. You'd been dreading this moment since the second you had woken up in the trauma room and seen his face. Afraid of his reaction.

Carter said nothing. He walked towards you with the supplies for your cast in his hands.

You knew he'd heard you, it hurt that he was ignoring you. He moved your leg to be able to start the cast and you winced. He looked up at you, but still didn't say anything.

"Gamma said you were in surgery these days, I didn't think you'd be down here."

"Well, she was wrong. And don't call her gamma."

That stung. You'd called her gamma since you were five.

"I'm sorry, John."

Carter was silent for a few minutes, focusing on the cast. You could see the anger brewing in his face, his eyebrows scrunching together until he exploded.

"You can't just barge in here! What were you even thinking, going to help gamma?"

"John! Stop it! I obviously didn't mean to end up in the ER."

"That's the problem with you! You don't plan for things to happen and then they happen anyway and you pretend you had no say in it! That's how you've always be-."

"Carter!" Snapped doctor Greene. He'd heard loud voices coming from the suture room and had gone to investigate.

"Doctor Greene, I was just finishing up here."

"You're of the case, doctor Carter."

"I was just-"

"Step outside Carter, now!"

Carter left and doctor Greene smiled at you. "Sorry, I'll be back in a sec."

Mark found Carter fuming just around the corner. He was tearing up a piece of a chart to do something with his anxiety, his face red with anger.

"Carter, that was a patient you were screaming at. My patient. I don't know what she's done to get you so angry, but right now she's in pain and she needs our help and you screaming at her is inappropriate and unprofessional!"

Carter hung his head.

"Go outside Carter, get some air. And stay away from that patient until you can have a normal conversation. Go help Carol in the clinic, we don't need you here if you're going to behave like a five year old."

Carter was sat outside in the ambulance bay, his head in his hands. He was already regretting screaming at you, but in the moment he hadn't been able to convey his feelings in any other way.

You'd left him behind all those years ago, and it hurt. He thought he'd gotten over it long ago but seeing you there, seeing you being wheeled in by EMT's took him right back to when he was seventeen. He'd locked himself into his bedroom for a week straight when you left, refusing to come out and eat until his grandfather broke the door open.

He leant back against the wall and sighed out, desperate to straighten his thoughts.

"Carter." He heard from his left. He turned his head to see Carol exiting the ER. "Mark's finishing up your patient for you."

Carter hung his head back down. Carol turned around to go back inside when he called out for her.

"Carol? How do you forgive the person that's hurt you most?"

She walked over to him and sat down next to him on the bench. "Your girl inside?" Carter nodded and looked out onto the street.

"You try to put yourself in the shoes they were wearing when they hurt you, you try to gauge if they've changed. Try to figure out if forgiving them will make you happier in the end, if hating them makes you hurt even more."

"And if hating them makes your chest feel like it will explode?"

"Then I suppose forgiveness can only make you feel better. I'm getting back inside, Carter. Mark will be done in a few minutes, I'll wait an hour to discharge her. You better make up your mind by then."

She left Carter behind to weigh his options.

It took him twenty minutes to come to a decision, pondering over the hurt he was carrying in his chest, discovering the happy moments that were buried beneath the pain, moments he had all but forgotten.

Carol gave him a soft smile when he lingered in front of the door to you room, whispered "Go on" and nudged her head at him. He took a breath and openend the door, closing it and seating himself next to you on a chair.

You hadn't said anything since he stepped in the room, to afraid to break the calm.

John looked anywhere but at you, breathing to start talking several times, but breaking off at the last second every time.

He fixed his eyes on yours. "I've got questions."

You tried to smile encouragingly. "I'll answer them. Just don't shout at me again. Please."

He nodded. 'I won't. Are you still up in New York?"

You smiled at the tentative way he was starting this conversation. "Yeah, I've got an apartment in the East Village, only two flatmates and the rent is low, so that's great. I'm doing research at NYU now, it's been amazing."

"About the war of 1812?" You felt your heart flutter that he would remember what you had been talking to him about 8 years ago.

"Yes, we're trying to draw parallels in British strategy during the Chesapeake Campaign with some battle happening in the Napoleonic war in France in the same year."

"So, you're living the life you've always dreamt of." His voice turned raspier, the earlier anger threatening to break through again. "All by yourself."

The mood in the room had shifted, so you only answered with a nod, picking at the plaster on your leg to calm your nerves.

"Why the fuck are you even in Chicago. I thought you promised never to come back, to stay in New York forever." Carter had raised his voice again, he didn't look you in the eye anymore.

"Your grandma asked me to help with a fundraiser. She needed an historian and she thought of me." You tried to calm him down by answering truthfully.

"It's that easy to break your promises then? Gamma asks you something and you just drop everything? I thought you promised never to see me again. You know, you break promises all the time. I remember you promised you loved me?"

"Jesus, John. It's not that simple."

"Why did you run off to New York, separate yourself from all of us then, huh? If you were just going to come running back when my grandma called." He spat the words at you.

"John! You know how much your grandma means to me. How much she did for me. She's been begging me to come up here and help with a fundraiser for years! I couldn't keep saying no because of the off chance I'd run into you! You don't have holy reign over the entirety of Chicago!" You were getting frustrated by John spinning the truth, barking back at him now.

"So you keep in contact with Gamma? You all but ignored me for the past 7 years."

Now he'd really done it. A sulky Carter you could handle, but he was lying to you and himself about what happened.

"I tried to keep in contact with you, but you refused. I wrote you letters, you sent them straight back to me. I called you! I tried! Don't blame this on me!" You were screaming at him.

"You broke up with me!" He shouted back at you.

His hand flew up, messing up his hair in anger and frustration. You stayed quiet.

"You broke up with me, because you wanted to get away from it all, wanted nothing do with our families anymore, even when I told you I loved you and I wanted to come with you. You fucking left me."

Carter had grown calm, broken.

"John," You started softly. "I- I'm sorry. I was hurting back then. Not because of you, but because of my parents, the love I felt I was missing. I wanted to get out of there, needed to get out of there."

Carter sat down on the edge of your bed. "I loved you." He looked at you with tears in his eyes. You could feel yourself tearing up as well.

"I know, John. I know. I'm sorry. It wasn't enough."

His voice was barely a whisper. "I loved you more than anything. How was it not enough?"

"I know. I'm sorry. I had to- I had to change. Had to love myself first. Had to become sure of who I was, despite everything, because of everything. You were just- you were always so sure. I couldn't keep up with that. I always felt like I loved you less than you loved me, like I loved you less than you deserved. I was stuck, John, I needed to get out."

"I would have come with you." His voice was a little stronger now.

You had to swallow before you could answer. Getting the words out felt hard, even though you'd had this conversations millions of times in your head the past few years. "I know. And I love you for it. I just had to figure out who I was without anyone beside me. I needed to become me, to learn to love myself when I wasn't with you. I didn't feel capable of loving you the way I should have. And you wanted to stay here, I know that too. You were so excited about medical school."

Carter cleared his throat. "I would have given it up for you."

"I know. That's why I had to leave. I would never do something like that for you. It wasn't fair for me to stay when I didn't love you like you loved me. I love you enough that I could see it wasn't fair."

You both sat in silence, letting the words float through you.

Carter cleared his throat, eyes on the floor. "You said loved, but that's not right."

You looked at him, confused.

"I still love you. I thought I didn't anymore, I thought I just hated you, but then you were wheeled in here on a gurney and my heart stopped and the only thing I could think of was how much of an idiot I'd been for never reaching out to you."

You were stunned. John looked up at you.

"I'm sorry for shouting at you. I couldn't figure out what I was feeling, where my heart was at, and my response was to hurt you back like I felt you'd hurt me. I shouldn't have, I'm sorry."

He shuffled a little closer to the bed, taking your hand in his. "You shouldn't pick at your cask. Doctor Greene will kill me if we have to redo it."

"John." You whispered, "Stop steering the conversation away, you just told me you still love me."

His cheeks flushed. "I did."

"Do you mean it?"

"Yes." The word left him like a sigh of relief.

You tried to swallow the feeling in your chest, tried to swallow the feelings you'd harboured for this man all that time, feelings you tried to convince yourself would never have use anymore.

"I love you too." The words were out before you had the chance to overthink them. John squeezed your hand, relief flooding his face.

"I thought I'd forget you in New York. I picked the busiest city so my maybe mind would stop going back to you, but it never did. Everything just reminded me of you, of what we've done together, of what we were together."

John raised your hand to his lips, pressing them against your fingers. "I've missed you." He whispered against them.

You reached your other hand towards his face as well, cupping his jaw. "My god, John, I've missed you too."

His hand reached out for your face, bringing the two of you closer together until your foreheads were touching. His lips were nearly on yours when he whispered to you.

"May I kiss you?"

You could only nod.

[booksandteaandtears]

close calls: the second time

Dr. Jack Abott x f!attending!wife!reader

Summary: the second of three times you and your husband almost revealed you were married before the event of That's your wife? sunshine version - read about the first time

Sooo, I wrote something sexy this time... not full on smut as that's not really my writing genre, but it's definitely a little spicy... so! MDNI !!

masterlist

the second time

You'd just gotten of a plane from New York. You'd landed at 4 in the morning and an hour later you'd arrived in the Pitt, coffee and breakfast in hand. You were supposed to pick your husband up for a relaxing day at home, but plans had changed and you still had to confess to Jack that you wouldn't be home with him. You'd decided that your best change of bringing the news would be face to face.

Dana had texted you the day before that Jack had had a rough shift that night. Robby had gone to the roof to talk to him. You'd tried to call Jack, but he'd been asleep by the time you did, and the rest of the day you were stuck in conferences and meetings with pharmaceutical reps.

You walked in, sipping your coffee, scanning the room for black scrubs and salt and pepper hair. You saw Ellis standing at curtain six and shot her a wave. She signed for you to wait and finished up with her patient.

"Hey you, haven't seen you on the night shift for a while. Are you on call? I thought that second year resident was working pediatrics tonight?"

"Yeah, he is. I'm starting surgery in a couple of hours and I wanted to study up a little so I came in early. I just had a question for doctor Abbot about an eight year old girl that came in a couple of weeks ago. I was looking over her chart and he mentioned some abnormalities that I want to check out. Have you seen him around?"

Parker sighed and took a bite out of the bagel you'd offered her. "He's around somewhere. We've been having a hard week. Dr. Abbot missed a case of abuse on Tuesday and he came in the next day with three broken ribs. A six year old shot his sister in the foot and we had to amputate, two kids crashed their car into a bus because they were high. Killed two kids. Just a bad week. Dana said his wife's out of town so we should cut him some slack but he's been barking at us all night."

You winced. "So your advice is to avoid him for now and come back when the wife's back in town?"

"I'd say so."

"Well, I guess I'll have to brave it cause I've got to sign off on those charts by tomorrow and I want to check it out. Wish me luck!"

You turned away from doctor Ellis and headed towards the lockers, hoping to find your husband there.

You heard him before you saw him. He was shouting at Dr. Shen, clearly annoyed by the young attending's casual demeanour.

"Those parents are terrified, John! You don't step in there taking a sip of coffee and sloshing your damn ice-cubes. You're supposed to be a fucking professional! "

"The patient was fine, doctor Abbot. I was just about to tell the parents that."

"That may be, Shen, but they didn't know that yet. Parents are programmed to think the worst when their child gets hurt and it's your job to calm them down and explain what's going on. You're a doctor for fuck's sake. Patient care includes talking to their loved ones in a respectful way. You fucked up in there and I never want to see it again. Just get out now, and do your damn job!"

Shen passed you a couple of seconds later and you gave him a reassuring smile.

When you turned the corner you saw Jack leaning on the lockers, looking at the floor and rubbing a hand over the thigh above his prosthetic.

"Did your leg get sore from shouting at attendings? Heard you've been doing that all night."

Jack looked up and his face softened immediately upon seeing you.

"Hi." He said softly. You smiled at him.

"Doctor Parker diagnosed your grumpiness as a symptom of missing your wife, so I'm here to remedy that."

His face lit up as he stepped towards you, his hands on your back and his lips on yours within seconds.

"I've missed you," he whispered between kisses, pushing you against the wall with his chest, trapping you between his arms "the house has been too empty without you in it."

You smiled against his lips. "Now I know you're lying, you hate it when I leave my stuff everywhere. You're always on my back about cleaning it up."

"I wasn't saying I missed your mess," he pulled away from you and brushed a loose strand of hair back behind your ear, "I missed you." He pressed his lips to your forehead, "I missed this. I missed having you close. I had almost forgotten how much I need you close to me, it's too hard to function without you."

You pulled him closer to you, resting your head in the crook of his neck.

"I don't function without you either."

You could feel Jack melting further into you, his head resting on top of yours, his hands tracing your back lazily.

You look up at him. "Did you have a bad week, Jack? You were barking at Shen like he killed a patient."

Jack sighed. He pushed himself away from you and turned, so he was leaning next to you on the wall.

"Yes, it was a bad week all around. Lots of kids with injuries their parents should have prevented, a few too many abuse cases, two veterans that OD'ed. I wrote it all down, like my therapist told me to, but that didn't really help. All I really wanted to do was hold you, talk to you about it, maybe fuck my feelings away afterwards."

You smiled at him. A boyish grin painted his face, turning towards you, his lips finding your neck. He'd hinted at how much he missed your physical connection over texts the last week, even sending some pretty risqué pictures, but your hours had been so opposite that you hadn't been able to help him over the phone.

"But I guess we can do that last one in a couple of hours. I'm only on for..." He looked at his watch, "another 115 minutes."

You pushed your husband off and decided you would have to break the news that you had spend avoiding since you had seen him in the hallway.

"About that..." you whispered at him. Jack groaned and messed up his hair with his right hand. His left hand was resting on your hip, softly squeezing.

"Please tell me you did not take a shift today." He groaned.

You smiled at him guiltily. "Doctor Keaton knew I was coming back today, so she called me last night to ask me to scrub in on a heart transplant this morning. The kid's seven years old. He's been on my patient list for four years, I just couldn't say no. Besides, this is doctor Keaton we're talking about, she's a legend, I've been waiting for a surgery like this for months. She's going back to Pakistan next week so this might be my last chance." You pout at him, trying to persuade him of the urgency of this surgery.

"So you are canceling a day in bed with me, your husband, after not seeing me for a week, because you want to hack someone open? You really are a surgeon."

You slapped his bicep, playfully. He grabbed your hand and pulled you close to him again, this time he was leaning against the wall and you were pulled flush against him. Your hands fell on his chest and the feeling of his taut muscles grounded you. You'd missed your handsome husband as much as he'd missed you.

His hand flew upwards, holding you where your jaw meets your neck. His eyes focused on yours intently. His voice was calm and low.

"Are you really going to keep me waiting another day? My dick's been hard since I saw you standing in the hall. I could barely manage waiting two more hours, and now you're telling me it's going to be tonight? I thought I made it clear that I've missed you, sweetheart."

You could feel your heartbeat fastening, his words creating tension in your body. The hand on your neck pulled your face closer towards his, so close you felt his breath against your lips.

"Jack," you whispered back, "We're in the middle of a hallway in your ER."

He nodded at you and closed the distance between you, his lips brushing over yours.

"There's an on call room around the corner on the right side."

You giggled at him. "Dr. Abbot! Are you really suggesting what I think you are?" Your hand sneaked towards his crotch, assessing that he was telling the truth about his cock. His eyes were glistening with want. You leaned into his ear. "It's actually really hot."

"Fuck." He groaned back. "Go, I'll be there in a minute."

You kissed the point below his ear while your fingers brushed against his dick again and he hissed at you. You giggled and made your way to the on call room, leaving him standing flushed in the hallway.

Jack took a minute to lower his blood pressure, making sure nobody had seen you go into the room before he opened the door himself.

The door opened again just a couple of minutes later.

"Hey Dr. Abbot, I just saw you sneak in here, sorry to wake you up already, but I have a question about that patient in three-" Shen looked up from the tablet in his hand and shut up.

Jack no longer had a shirt on and was about to rip your scrub top over your head, both his hands underneath the top near your boobs.

Jack growled at Shen, who was still standing in the doorway, staring at the pair of you.

"Shen! Get out! And for fuck's sake learn to knock!"

Shen turned around and scrambled out of the door.

"Shen!" Jack shouted when the door closed.

"Y-Yes?"

"I'll be- I'll be out in a second. Just stay right there and keep your mouth shut. Give me a minute."

"Okay boss. You sure you only need a minute? Looked like you were kind of in the middle of something."

"Shen! Just shut up!"

Jack dropped the tension in his body, letting himself fall on top of you.

"I will fucking kill him for seeing this, for seeing us."

You giggle at him and close your arms around him, holding him closer to you. "No, you won't. You'd have to fill the night shift attending position and you hate interviewing people. Besides, he barely saw anything."

He groaned into your neck. "I'm pretty sure I might just kill him tonight for having interrupted. Now I'm going to have to wait until tonight to have my way with you. My balls were blue enough without having been near you, I might burst with the way they're feeling now I've actually been able to touch you. I'm never letting you leave for an entire week again."

You tease him a little by rubbing your thigh over his crotch.

"Pretty sure your balls aren't the main problem area right now. You look like you have a soda can shoved down your pants. I think Myrna might have something to say about that."

"You know, you're not really making it any fucking better right now."

He sighed again and pushed himself of you. You handed him the shirt that was lying next to your head.

"I better check it out. That patient in three was critical a couple of hours ago. And I better talk to Shen about this as well. If he so much as breathes a word about this I'll have him for fucking breakfast."

"Jack?" He looks back at you, love flooding his eyes. "Just make sure he doesn't spill? Please? I don't want people to know yet, I'm only just getting used to everyone around here. I'll buy him a years worth of Dunkin if that will help."

"I'll make sure babe, don't worry. He's a good guy, he won't tell, we won't have to bribe him. Besides I don't ever want to see an iced coffee in his hands ever again." He put on his shirt and scrub top and walked towards the door, looking back before opening it.

"Good luck with the surgery today, I want to hear everything about it the moment you get back, I know you've been excited about working with doctor Keaton. Just promise me that when you arrive back home we won't leave the bed until tomorrow. I love you."

Then he opened the door and got back into the chaos of the pre-dawn ER.

[booksandteaandtears]

In sickness and in health

Dr. Michael "Robby" Robinvitch x sick!wife!reader

summary: You've been having some weakness in your right hand and Robby encourages you to get it checked out. You end up at the neurologist, who gives you bad news.

Angst.

warnings: mentions of ALS and its prognosis, talk of DNR, reader will die in future (not written).

Masterlist

"Damn it!" You whisper as your knife drops to the floor. You bend to pick it up again, forcing your fingers to close around the utensil to grab it.

Robby puts his own cutlery down, his big brown eyes looking over you, trying to figure out what is wrong.

"You know," he begins softly, "That's the third time you dropped something with no reason these past couple of days. I'm starting to get a little worried."

You inspect your hand, trying to figure out why it's been feeling weird this week. "At least the seventh time, actually. I keep dropping my pen at work and I smashed my phone on the floor without warning this morning." You squeeze your finger together, relieved they seem to be working again. "You think something's wrong? Something bad?"

Robby keeps his eyes on your face trying to bring this delicately. He takes of his glasses and puts them on the table, rubbing a hand over his eyes.

"I'm an emergency physician, my brain always heads straight for something bad, that's what I'm trained for. But that doesn't mean it actually is anything bad, we just have to rule it out. You've probably strained a muscle somehow, or you've been overworking yourself. You've been tired these past few weeks, it could just be from that as well. But check in with Dr. Smith, just to be sure. He'll draw some blood, maybe send you to a neurologist, and then it's probably nothing. You're healthy, you exercise. I'd guess it's probably just fatigue."

You nod at him, forgoing your knife to tear of a piece of toast with your fingers.

"Right. So diagnosis is probably just fatigue or something with a muscle, but possibly something a little worse to do with my brain?"

Robby smiles at you reassuringly. "Right. Just call doctor Smith today, go in to see him tomorrow and then we can stop worrying, all right?"

Two weeks later you and Michael are sat in the office of a neurologist. What was supposed to be just a few blood tests has turned into a whole array of other testing, and with each one you've grown more scared of what might be going on. The doctors and nurses keep saying they can't tell you anything until all the tests are done. You had the last of your test a couple of hours ago and you've been waiting on the neurology floor for the doctor to give you the results. Robby was paged up just a minute ago.

He is holding your hand when the doctor breaks the news. He feels your hand start to tremble as you listen, his big thumb stroking your hand to let you feel that you are there.

"So what's the next step in this?" You ask, trying to control your voice, "Surgery? Medication of some sorts?"

Both of the doctors in the room stay quiet.

You turn towards your husband. "Michael. Please tell me. I can take it I swear. I can guess at what your silence means, but I need you to tell me. I need to know."

He swallows and tears fill his eyes. "There's no... cure. Not for ALS. Not yet."

Your throat feels constricted. "What do you mean there's no cure? Explain it to me, because I'm not sure I fully understand. There must be something we can do right?"

The neurologist steps in.

"Unfortunately, at this time there is nothing we can do to stop the disease. We can treat your symptoms to slow the disease, make sure we help you to keep living your life the way you want to for as long as possible. But you have to understand, ALS is a fatal disease."

You feel panic rising in your body, constricting your breathing and setting your brain on fire.

"Are you seriously telling me I'm dying right now? I don't feel sick at all. I'm not even fifty. I just came for a check up 'cause I was having trouble holding my pen at work. I wasn't even going to come in. Robby convinced me and I wanted to soothe his worries. This is- this is...."

You swallowed, your throat terribly dry all of a sudden, "I'm supposed to have another thirty years at least. I'm supposed to grow old with Michael. We have so many things planned, so many dreams."

Michael releases a sob next to you, crumbling, hiding his face in his hands. You look 'round to him in shock. It's not like Michael to break down like this.

You try to control yourself, try to remain calm for Robby's sake.

You aren't sad, you tell yourself. You're angry.

It must be a mistake. Yes. That has to be it.

You don't notice the tears rolling down your own face.

"Are you sure about this? My primary care doctor sent me here just to be sure. He said I was probably just overworked, wanted to rule out anything that had to do with my brain. That's all. We just had to rule it out."

The neurologist continues. "That is what we hoped, but the results are very conclusive. We did several tests and we believe your disease has not progressed far, but you do have ALS."

Robby has stopped crying, he's looking at a drawing of a brain behind the neurologist's desk.

"How long do I have?" You demand. Robby shrinks in his chair.

"ALS progresses very differently for each individual." The doctor answers.

"Don't give me that crap." You snap at him, any grasp you thought you had on your emotions now failing you, "How long?"

"It could be months. but it could very well be years as well. as many as one in every ten patients makes it to ten years. With the right treatment we can keep you around as long as possible."

You swallow. "And on average?"

"The average is around three to five years."

You slump back into your chair, unable to speak. Your hand finds Robby's. He squeezes your fingers and looks over to you. His eyes are red and you can see the path of his tears on his cheeks. He tries to smile encouragingly, but you can only see the pain and worry in his eyes.

The doctor closes the file in front of him and looks you in the eye.

"I think you need some time, both of you, to process this and talk about it. It's very difficult news to come to terms with, I know. Talk about it together, let it sink in. I'd like to see you back here the day after tomorrow, we'll talk more about what's going to happen and what our treatment plan will be. There's some clinical trials we should discuss as well. You can always call me with questions, but I think doctor Robinavitch can answer most of them as well. We'll take it day by day from here, all right?"

You were sitting in Robby's car half an hour later, both without words. Robby had gone down to the Pitt, had whispered to Dana what was going on and left without speaking to anybody else. He left a senior resident in charge. All colour is gone from his face, his brown eyes popping even more against the pale skin, the skin around his eyes red from crying.

You were the first to speak. "Michael, I wanna say something, and I need you to respect that, okay?" He turns towards you.

"I did some googling while you were inside." Robby tries to interrupt. "Let me just finish, please. I probably shouldn't have looked it up, I know. Doctor Google is almost never right. But I did look it up."

You look at some faraway point, trying to focus enough to put your words together correctly.

"I read that, uhm, I read that I'll probably die because my muscles won't be able to support my breathing, or my heart anymore, and I'll go into respiratory arrest. Am I right so far?" You looked back at him and he nodded, his eyes focusing on yours.

"Okay. I want to sign a DNR then. Tomorrow."

Robby pulls at his hair with both hands. "Jesus, fuck! Darling. I'm still trying to process you being sick. I'm nowhere near discussing this."

You put a hand on his thigh and give a little squeeze. You reach for his hands to hold them so he will stop pulling his hair.

"Thats fine. You don't have to be ready to talk about it. But I am ready to talk about it and I need you to listen and except what I'm saying. I want you to know, I need you to know; I don't want any heroic measures. If I stop breathing, I stop breathing. Thats it. If I'm going to die anyway I don't want to do it at a hospital with a tube down my throat. I'll die on my terms. And I'll do everything to slow the disease, I promise you that. Absolutely everything I can. But when it's time you've got to let me go. I want to make sure of that tomorrow, so there won't be a time where you have to make a decision. Not like with Adamson. I can't put you through that. It's my decision to make, and I've made it."

Robby can't talk anymore. He feels like his tears should be close to drying out but they keep coming.

You climb over the console, into his lap. You stay there in his arms, your tears disappearing into his black scrub top, his big hands rubbing circles on your back.

"I promise." He murmurs to you after some time, his lips touching your hair. "We'll do it all on your terms; living, dying, you tell me how and we'll make it happen. I promise."

A week later Abbot finds Robby on the roof. He'd taken a week of work, but at your pushing he was back to work that day. You want to continue you own work as well, want to feel like a normal human being while you still can. So you kicked him out of the house and back to the Pitt that morning.

"Hey man," Abbot opens, "You wanna come on this side of the fence? So we can talk?"

Robby turns around but doesn't leave his spot.

"Dana told me. I am so sorry." Jack keeps his focus on Robby, ready to sprint if he moves any closer to the edge. His face is calm, his eyes filled with pity.

Robby nods his thanks. His arms hang still at his side.

"How do you do it, Jack?" He asks, "Wait for your wife to die?"

Abbot keeps his eyes locked on his friend. He thinks for a minute before answering. "You don't wait, brother. You live life, keep on living, till you can't anymore. You lean on your friends, your family. You go to therapy so you can deal with what you feel, you love her, spend every second you can with her. You try to engrain every part of her into your brain so you don't forget. It's damn hard, and you'll cry and curse out the universe for doing this, but the two of you can handle it. Together you can live life a little longer. You don't wait for her to die, brother, you live, together, while you still can."

Robby moved to the other side of the fence, hugging Jack before going down the stairs together.

[booksandteaandtears]

close calls: the first time

Dr. Jack Abott x f!attending!wife!reader

Summary: the first out of three times you and your husband almost revealed you were married before the events of That's your wife? sunshine version

masterlist

the first time

You'd bought new pink scrub because one of your six year old cancer patient's favourite colour was hot pink. That day was her surgery and you wanted to surprise her when she woke up. You'd put the scrubs in a tote bag, ready to take with you and get changed after the surgery.

You and Jack usually took turns washing both of your scrubs, so Jack thought you'd washed his scrubs and put them in the bag for him. He was in a hurry so he didn't check they were actually his, planning to get changed at the hospital. He didn't even notice there were two bags.

You left after him and took the remaining tote bag, not bothering to check the inside.

Fate had it that Jack had taken over a dayshift; any other day you would have noticed the switch up during your own shift and sent him a text so he'd know to take some other scrubs. But today you arrived at the hospital at roughly the same time, and you were in hospital issued scrubs for surgery the whole morning, so you didn't notice. When Jack stood in front of his locker to change and found bright pink scrubs, he was frozen for a second.

He tried to reach you, but got your voicemail because you were already in surgery. This scrub debacle was nowhere near important enough to call you out of surgery for on the hospital phone. He debated wearing you pink scrubs for a minute, hating the cheap hospital scrubs, but decided against it because it would be too big a contrast to his usual black. There was enough gossip on the ER floor without their depressed attending turned up in scrubs that looked like they had been steeped in a bath of markers.

Just as he was shoving the pink scrub top back into it's bag, Perlah stepped in. "Hi doc, trauma incoming, pedestrian versus moped, ETA 3 minutes." She stopped as she saw a flash of pink.

"You got some new scrubs doc? Hot colour."

Jack stared at her and felt some colour creep into his cheeks.

"It's not mine."

He regretted saying that as soon as the words left his mouth.

Perlah raised an eyebrow. "Not yours? Whose is it then?" He chose to remain silent. "I'll get you some other scrubs from the machine, ETA for that trauma is 2 minutes now, it's gonna be a bloody one."

Jack cursed when he shoved his bag into his locker. It had to be nurse Perlah walking in at that exact time, now the entire ER would know within he had brought pink scrubs that day, and the rest of the hospital would know by noon.

Half an hour later Jack was sitting at the desk under the guise of checking some files, but secretly trying to catch his name in the Tagalog that Perlah was whispering to Princess.

He did catch some dramatic gasps and giggles, but not his name. He just had to pray she'd keep it to herself a little longer.

Dana was looking at him from the other side of the room, very aware that his eyes weren't moving across the screen, but focusing on an empty bed in the corner.

She cleared her throat. "Have you learned Tagalog in the past week and are you eavesdropping or are you waiting for a certain name to come up."

Jack looked at her and stared. "Perlah told me she saw you with some hot pink scrubs in the lounge. Did you have a switch up this morning or do you want to change that boring black costume you doctors decided on? I for one would like a nice burgundy for the nurses while you're at it, we'll match with all the blood around here."

Jack sighed and nodded. "This is what happens when I leave my gloomy night shift, things go wrong and I end up with my," he lowered his voice to a whisper, "wife's scrubs."

Dana knew about your marriage, of course. Her and Jack had been friends for a long time, so she'd met you long before you started working at the PTMC. You'd met Dana for after work wine hour dozens of time, had babysat her kids when she was filling in on the night shift. You'd even talked her into coming back to the Pitt after she told Robby she'd leave, because you were absolutely sure she would regret it for the rest of her life is she'd have actually left. Both Dana and Robby had been sworn to secrecy about who you were by Jack the minute you'd started working there.

Dana broke into a smile, the wrinkles near her eyes tilting upwards. "I'll cover for you when she comes down, don't worry about it. She told me about the kid she wants to surprise, texted me a pic of the scrubs last night."

Jack nodded his thanks. "You're a godsend Dana." "I know, I know," She said while walking off, "I do expect a coffee and some sweet treats for my good deeds though!"

That afternoon you snuck down to the ER, hoping to go into the lounge, grab you scrubs and get out as fast as possible, and hopefully flee without anyone noticing.

You'd contemplated not wearing the scrubs that afternoon, but the thought of how happy your patient would be had won out in the end.

You'd made it into the lounge, opening Jack's locker (the passcode was your birthday, easy guess), and had grabbed the bag when you heard the door open behind you. You quickly shut the locker and turned around, hiding the scrubs behind your back.

"Hi Mel, good to see you! How have you been?" Mel's eyes lit up when she saw you. "Hi, I wasn't expecting you here! It's good to see you, did you get called down for a consult?"

You blinked at her for a second before adapting to the situation at hand. "uh- Yes! I got paged down a couple minutes ago. Didn't see what is was for though. I was trying to find Dana so she could tell me. But I guess she's not here!"

Mel looked over her shoulder out of the door she was holding open. "She was at the desk last I saw her? I think she's been there for the last ten minutes?"

Fuck, you should have told Mel you were looking for someone else, of course Dana was going to be at the desk. That's were she's supposed to be.

"Ah, yes. Should have looked there to start with of course. My brain's mush from surgery, sorry."

Mel smiled back at you. You were sorry to lie to such a sweet face.

"That's alright! I'll come with you to Dana, I'd like to do some more pediatric cases so I'd love to tag along, if that's alright with you?"

"Of course, doctor King!" You said brightly, "You're always welcome to."

You gestured for her to leave first, your face falling as soon as she'd turned her back on you. This was going great; you were nearly caught, had to lie to such a sweet girl, that was now also excited to help you with a case that you had made up and did not actually exist, and you were still hiding the scrubs behind your back awkwardly.

You should have just bought a pink plushie instead of going through all this trouble.

Jack saw you leaving the lounge, but he had his finger in a chest wall to properly place a chest tube so he was not in the position to save you.

Dana was staring at the board trying to figure out who to kick out to get some beds free when you called for her.

"Dana! You lovely human being, I have not seen you in so long, how are you sweetheart?"

Dana turned and smiled at you. "Well if that isn't my favourite surgeon. You down here to pick up the scrubs that Ja-"

Your eyes widened in emergency, gently nodding to Mel right beside you. Dana got the message and scrunched her forehead in apology for nearly exposing you.

"I just told Dr. King I was looking for you. I got a page a couple of minutes ago?"

You tried to convey to Dana that you needed her to cover for you by enunciating the word page extra clearly.

Dana raised her brows at you, a mischievous twinkle in her eyes . "We currently have zero patients under the age of 25. But I've got a confused old man who came here in his wife's clothes? Maybe you can help him out?"

You blinked. Fuck. Dana was having too much fun digging your grave.

"Ah. Must have been an error then. I'll... pass on the old man, they need me back upstairs."

Mercifully, Jack was free to save you right then.

"Hi there." He greeted you and turned to Mel. "Dr. King, could you check in curtain four? Whitaker's been in there to take a LOL's history for the last twenty minutes, he might need some saving."

Mel accepted happily and left Dana, Jack and you alone at the nurses' station. You were still clutching the scrubs behind your back.

Dana started laughing.

"You should have seen her face Jack, she was terrified of trying to trick Mel, the poor thing. Can't even lie to keep her own secrets."

You sighed and leaned into the desk, dumping the scrubs on top. You buried your face in them. "You almost spilled our secret Dana, that's not funny." You whined through the fabric.

Dana squeezed you arm. "Don't worry pet, I stopped saying Jack's name as soon as I saw her. I'm sorry it got so close. I shouldn't have teased you after, but the look on your face was amazing."

You squeezed her back. "That's alright. I'm just wound up from surgery, I actually liked your joke about the old man."

Jack chose to ignore those words and turned you towards him, hands on your shoulders, his eyes finding yours and staying there. "How was surgery? Everything went well?"

You nodded at him. "Only some minor complications, but nothing that wasn't within the line of expectation. She's due to wake up any minute now."

Jack squeezed your shoulders.

"I'm sorry about you having to come down. I should have checked the bag before I left. You were so excited about your new scrubs last night I should have realised you were taking them in the morning."

"It's fine, Jack. I should've checked as well."

You stood there for a second longer, not willing to let go of his hand on your shoulders.

He smiled at you and let go, reaching for the scrubs to hand them to you.

"Nobody questioned anything, right Jack?" You asked and Jack nodded. "Nobody noticed. We're still a secret."

You smiled and mouthed "I love you" before sneaking off to the lift.

Perlah had been watching for the past five minutes. The bright pink scrubs she saw first with Dr. Abbot this morning and now leaving the floor in your hands were starting to make sense. She was also an excellent lip reader.

She turned around to look for Princess to discuss her findings when Dana caught her. "Don't." Said the charge nurse, "They want to keep it a secret, they've got their reasons. Don't spoil it. I'll know who spread the rumour."

Perlah kept your secret.

Abbot bought Dana a very nice coffee and a cake the size of a small child, because he knew very well how much she did to keep Jack and your's secret.

[booksandteaandtears]

Instagram

Dr. Jack Abbot x famous!wife (Jane Abbot)

My thoughts on their instagrams after the events of the last part. I really enjoyed making this!

Masterlist

credit to all pictures' original owners!

Jack's captions from oldest to newest (bottom right to top left)

So excited to see so many people here for @/moonlight.jane! good luck babe, and I hope everyone in the crowd has fun tonight. Thanks everyone who shouted hello at me!

my favourite moment of the show

happy pride month people! love is love

She'll tell people she won fair, but I let her

A very happy anniversary to us. You are still the most lovable, beautiful woman I've ever met, and I'm thankful every day I get to spend with you. Can't believe we were not even 25 in this picture, you don't look a day older now

My gorgeous wife got me a new toy, not pictured are the tactical airway kits and a portable echo. What can I say? She knows what I like

going to see my wife receive some awards. she'll win them all I'm sure

Took Shen to the concert because he begged me every shift until I gave in

You take my breath away every day but tonight was something special. I love you

Jane's captions from oldest to newest

When in Rome Paris

You lot have only known this man for a couple of months, but I've known him for over twenty years now. I love you a little more every day. Here's to another twenty years, and another forty after that!

f the orange man.

I know he let me win but I love him for it

I promised you an album and this is proof I've been working on it! Took this photo last month and we're in the middle of recording now so you won't have to wait much longer

My husband tole me I'm "Channeling Kermit". Thanks Jack. And thanks to his co-workers that teach him to say stuff like that. (You know who you are. please stop.)

I am genuinely so excited about this one! Can't wait for all of you to hear it

New album arrived just in time for Pride month. I hope you like the cover. Yes there are songs about girls kissing girls on it. If you don't like that go f yourself. Love is love, people. Available next thursday!

My gorgeous husband got dressed up to join me on the carpet tonight. Very thankful he's there to hold my hand because I still cannot walk in heels and he's very good at figuring out where the bathrooms are so I don't get lost

[booksandteaandtears]

Sunday Kind of Love

Dr. Michael "Robby" Robinavitch x reader

A short fluffy piece because the weather has been lovely where I live and I'd like to spend it with someone. Also because Robby deserves some rest and peace and if the show won't give it to him then I will.

I hope you had/are having a lovely Sunday!

Summary: How you and Robby spend a slow Sunday

I really loved writing this one <3

(It's not grammatically correct at all, but ignore that please...)

Masterlist

Although Robby wasn't free every Sunday, you had perfected your routine for when he was available.

You'd start the day in bed, not awake so early that it felt like getting up for work, but not so late that you'd missed half of your precious Sunday rotting.

You'd usually roll out of bed first, your bladder forcing you. Robby had trained his during busy ER shifts. Afterwards you'd crawl back into bed, your head resting on his chest, trying to cuddle impossibly closer to him. His hand would draw figures across your back lazily, still half asleep.

You always snuck a cold foot in between his warm calves. You'd think he'd gotten used to it, but he was not really awake yet at that point and not aware enough to defend himself.

He'd suggested you use house slippers when you went to the bathroom, even buying some in your favourite colour for you, but you refused to use them. He secretly liked it as well, he liked feeling you try to warm up your body on his. It was your joke, your very own performance that made him smile every time.

He'd get out of bed to make coffee, whistling on his way down. By the time you had put on your socks and followed suit your cup was ready on the kitchen island. He always smiled when he saw you coming down the stairs in his hoodie.

You pulled a chair out and nestled yourself on to it. He'd start breakfast, usually something sweet. There was a little bluetooth speaker on the island, right next to you, there especially for this moment. You'd choose something soft and you'd hum along with the music, while appreciating the view of Robby's back while he cooked.

You'd move to the couch to eat, catching the news while you enjoyed your breakfast. Sunday mornings were the only time Robby was in charge in the kitchen, he relied on your superior cooking skills the rest of the week.

It was your task to bring the plates back to the kitchen and clean up. You would inspect the fridge and make a grocery list before flopping back onto the couch with Robby. He always pulled you closer to him and thanked you for cleaning up.

When the news was over you tippled back upstairs to grab your books. You were elbow deep in a Kirsten Hannah novel, Michael would switch between medical journals and, more recently, a couple of books about people struggling with their mental health. Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance was on his bedside table.

Robby was usually working on your second cup of coffee when you came down. He'd hand you a glass of water as well, always concerned you weren't hydrating.

You'd spent a couple of hours like that, just being next to each other, both wrapped up in your own book. The music was still playing in the background, occasionally one of you put your book down to tell the other an anecdote about the song playing, or cite a beautiful line from your books.

You'd get up at some point, taking the stairs up to your ensuite to start the shower. You'd wash your hair, and when you were almost done, your hair mask marinating, you'd hear a knock on the door.

Michael would join you in the shower, kissing your shoulder and singing sweets songs to you. He'd make you laugh. By the time you rinsed the mask out he was done as well and you'd get out of the shower together.

You'd dry your hair, get dressed and head to a nearby farmers market. You both loved the walk over there, holding hands, stopping to talk to the neighbours, pointing out what flowers had been growing in the gardens around your place.

You'd do a quick loop of the market before settling in one of the cute cafés around it, too hungry to focus properly on all the market goodness. You'd have lunch while people watching, pointing out cute dogs and kids. Robby would tell you about his week, about funny things that had happened, times he was proud of how one of his residents had handled a situation. He talked about some of the tougher cases that week, young kids that were ill, people saying goodbye to their loved ones in a brightly lit ER. You would rest your hand on his knee, showing him you were there, you were listening to him. He'd grab your hand and squeeze it, forcing a small smile back onto his face.

After that you'd take a longer time at the market, talking with vendors, buying a sourdough loaf with a new, interesting flavour (and always a backup in case you didn't like the exotic combinations). You'd look at jewellery, LP's, olive oil's, fruit and veg, meanwhile checking your grocery list for what you needed.

You'd drag Robby away from the stalls where someone was selling some bullshit miracle ointment for some ailment, not wanting to get into it on your calm Sunday. But you'd write down the name of the product and leave reviews online about the lies they were spreading. Michael would sign the reviews with John Carter, MD, a nod to an old TV doctor that he used too look like.

You would stop by the grocery store on the way back, making sure that you were all stocked up for another busy week. Usually you took that moment to fill each other in on what you'd be doing that next week, figuring out when the two of you would have time for each other, Robby mentally taking notes on what days you'd have difficult work days.

You'd make soup with your fresh vegetables when you were home, enjoying it with the loaf of bread. Robby would set the table and pour the wine. You always tried to keep the Sunday evening meal simple, a little full from lunch still, but you couldn't contain yourselves at the market and always came home with a bunch of cheese, olives and dips. And you couldn't possibly wait another day to try them.

After dinner it was Robby's turn to clean up. You'd hop onto the kitchen island, talking while he was scrubbing a pot, the speaker playing another playlist. You tried to take sip of wine while he made you laugh and you nearly snorted it into your own face. He laughed even harder at that.

You'd take a sunset walk after dinner, too full to do nothing all evening, feeling that some movement is necessary for a good night's sleep. He'd pull you closer to him when the air would start to cool, offering you his jacket. You declined, not wanting him to get cold and preferring to get closer to him for warmth, snuggling up into his side while walking.

You'd put on a film when you got back. Sometimes you had enough mental capacity for a good film, one you'd heard your friends rave about. Most times you just wanted something simple, so you'd turn on one of your trusted favourites, one that you knew almost every line of.

Michael almost always fell asleep halfway through the film. He denied it, but you could feel his heartbeat slowing down, his breath growing deeper. You'd snuggle up, watching the rest of the film. You'd wake him when the end credits would roll, telling him it was time for bed.

He brushed his teeth half asleep, somehow managing to look cute doing it. He'd be in bed before you, fighting to stay awake until you were in his arms. "I love you." He'd whisper when you planted your face in the crook of his neck. "I love you." You'd whisper back at him. He always smiled when he heard you say it, even when you could have sworn he was already asleep.

[booksandteaandtears]

A proposal

Michael 'Dr. Robby' Robinavitch x f!prosecutor!reader

summary: after two years together you are ready to call Robby your husband, but he's not acting on your hints

A short, slightly angsty, but mostly fluffy one

masterlist

Robby had noticed you'd been off the last few days. Work had been quiet for you for a couple of weeks, so you'd been able to spend a lot of time together. You'd gone on some nice dates, eating at fancy restaurants, going for hikes.

Robby knew your work was going to pick back up the day after and he wanted to confront it, to figure out what was going on.

You were sat on the couch, reading some report when he sat down next to you, looking anxious. You raised your eyebrows at him. "Something the matter, Michael?" He scratched his throat. "Did you enjoy yourself this week?" "Yes." You answered. He thought your answer was too short to be very truthful.

"Are you angry with me?" You looked up at him. He looked at you expectantly. You put the report down on the coffee table and forced yourself to sit more upright on the couch.

"I am, as a matter of fact. Don't get me wrong, I loved the dates, they were perfect. But I expected something this week, Michael, and you haven't so much as given a hint about it."

Robby looked confused. "I don't understand, what did you expect?"

You sighed. "Are you really that dense?" The confusion hadn't left Robby. "That hike we took, remember how I described that a couple months ago?"

Robby scratched his beard. "You said the view at the top would be an ideal proposal spot." "Yes!" You gasped at him.

Robby could not look more confused if he tried.

"What are you saying, did you expect I would..." You threw your hands in the air. "I thought you would propose! I've had this day marked in my calendar since we planned it, I even got my nails done for it. I've been hinting for months."

Robby seemed to have stopped listening after you said the word propose. "You want to get married? To me?"

"Jesus christ, Robby! Of course I want to get married to you. I told you when we first started dating that I'd like to get married some day. It's been two years since then. We've bought a house together. I've been talking about my dream engagement ring for the past three months."

Robby blinked at you. "I thought that was just hypothetical thing?"

"Oh my god. Michael. I sent you a link. I gave you my ring size. I even sent it to Dana and Abbot as well, in case you forgot or something."

"So that's why they were asking me if I bought "it" yet. I couldn't figure out what they meant."

You laughed at him. "You may be a very smart and accomplished doctor, but if I didn't know better I'd say you were really dumb."

He laughed with you and pulled you closer to him on the couch.

"So," he whispered, kissing you, "You want to get married?"

You held his chin in your hand. "Desperately. I want to spend the rest of my life with you. I want to call you my husband. I want to grow old with you. I'd spend every minute of every day with you if I could."

He kissed you again and pressed his head against yours.

"Will you marry me? Will you please be my wife and make me the happiest man alive for the rest of our days? Even if I am a little stupid and unaware sometimes? Even if it's a proposal without a ring?"

You couldn't stop smiling. "Yes. Yes! I will!" You kissed him again.

When you came up for air his grin matched yours. "I will marry you," you told him, "But you will have to get me my ring, because I consulted all my colleagues on which one was the prettiest and I am terrified to show up without one when I've been hyping it up for weeks."

He smiled at you, wondering if he could ever feel happier than in that moment. "I better get you a ring, because Dana will kill me if she hears how I handled this."

[booksandteaandtears]

That's your wife? sunshine version

Dr. Jack Abott x f!attending!wife!reader

summary: You started working as a pediatric surgeon at the PTMC about a year ago and people have not yet figured out that you and Jack are married because your personalities are very different

obviously a little inspired by dr. Doug Ross fighting with parents (does anyone else think dr. Robby is kinda like Mark Green?)

slightly angsty, but mostly fluff

mentions child abuse

reader gets hurt but not too badly

masterlist | thunder version

I wrote some more for this couple!

You'd always loved working with kids, working as a nanny during college and volunteering at different foster facilities. You had gone to med-school with the goal of becoming a pediatrician and after many years of internships and residency you had landed a job at UPMC Presbyterian. You'd had loved it there for years, but about a year and a half ago a position had opened at PTMC, with the chance to become Chief of pediatrics in a few years.

Initially you had wanted to turn it down. You had worked in the same hospital as Jack years ago as a resident, but had left when you kept being referred to as "Abbot's wife", instead of people seeing you as a doctor in your own right. Even though you'd kept your maiden name they seemed to link your medical abilities to your husband, and you hated it, so you'd always worked in a different hospital since then. You'd worked too hard on your career to be okay with being treated like that. Jack had been sad that you couldn't drive into work together anymore, but he respected your decision and fully supported your career.

Jack had convinced you to take the job at PTMC in the end, agreeing to keep your marriage secret except for a select few. None of the staff had questioned it so far and working at PTMC had been great. You loved the pediatrics team and the chances you had been given by performing new and exciting surgeries.

You especially loved being the on-call pedes surgeon every couple of shifts, consulting down in the Pitt. With PTMc being a level 1 trauna centre a lot of interesting cases were brought in every shift.

You knew everyone's name in the ER. They thought it was because you put in a lot of effort to get to know them, but you secretly knew because Jack would gossip about his staff with you. So not only did you know their names, but you knew that Javadi had a crush on Mateo, and Trinity had her eyes on Garcia. Sometimes you were the one delivering gossip to Jack, because you brought his nurses coffee and pastries which meant they told you everything.

Besides the treats, they liked you because you were always bright, happy and just incredibly good with children. You could calm down even the kids that McKay had trouble with. You had bright patches with dino's on your coat and had stickers for a ton of specific interests, ranging from cars to animals to TV-shows. You'd given Whitaker a sticker to soothe his feelings on more than one occasion and carried a special pack with some of Mel's favourites.

No one in the Pitt had even entertained the thought that you, with your bubbly personality and ever present smile, could be married to their very own anxious, demoralised and borderline suicidal attending.

You had spent that morning in surgery, fixing up a kid's lungs from a major pneumothorax after a consult in the Pitt. You'd been alerted that the child's father had arrived in the pedes' waiting room and that he had been asking for you.

You took a deep breath and turned the corner with Kiara right behind you. "Mr. Morgan?" You called out. A man raised his head at you and you nodded for him to follow you out of the waiting room.

"Your son's nursery brought him in this morning, he had a fever and was complaining of pain in his chest and back. We operated on a collapsed lung this morning. It was collapsed because of trauma, and it was so severe we could not treat it without surgery. We suspect someone kicked the boy in his ribs. I was called in for a consult by the doctors in the ER, and we found several old injuries during our assessment. Bruises and sprained ribs. Burns on his leg. It appears to us that the child has been hurt over a longer period of time."

You tried to control the anger in your voice. Your place was not to judge the man, but to help his son, but you were having trouble keeping yourself in line.

"This is Kiara, she is the social worker that is tied to the Emergency Department. She's been with your son since he was brought in. We want to have a conversation with you, and then child protection services and the police will be here to investigate further. There might be a reasonable explanation for all of this, but we are legally obligated to make a report and involve the police. Could you follow me into my office please?"

Mr. Morgan stood still in the hall. "You're saying you got the police involved?" His face grew red with anger. You raised an eyebrow, apparently the man was more worried about getting caught than trying to deny the accusation.

Kiara stepped in. "Yes, as the doctor explained, we have to report suspected cases of child abuse. I can talk with you about the next steps, so we can ensure this all goes smoothly for your son."

Mr. Morgan took a step towards you, his breath touching your cheek. He smelled of stale coffee. "You reported this to the police?" He asked again. You nodded, trying to step backwards to create distance. He grabbed your wrist to stop you. His voice grew louder. "I'll raise my boy however the hell I want to raise him. A nosy bitch like you has no say in it. Fucking whore of a doctor who thinks she's all that. Bet you've never raised kids of your own. Where is my son! I'm taking him home!" A bit of spit reached your face from the intensity of his outburst. Several people had poked their heads out of doors in the hallway, alarmed by the raised voice. You felt nervous by the way this was enfolding so you tried to deescalate the conversation once more. "Sir, the law in Pennsylvania states that I have to report you. If you've hurt your child, these are the consequences. There's nothing I can do about that. Your son is what we are worried about here, he's just had surgery because of his injuries. Let's try to talk and see what we ca-."

You felt the punch before you could have seen his fist flying at you. He was a big man and the force of it knocked you to the ground. Your hands flew up to your face, holding your nose. "Fuck." You groaned. You tried to inspect your nose, which, in hindsight, was a mistake, because you missed the foot that came flying into your ribs. A second kick landed soon after.

Kiara cried out next to you, calling for help. A group of nurses came flying in, grabbing mr. Morgan and pulling him off of you. You groaned and turned on your side, trying to breathe. Panic was taking over.

The chief attending came running up, assessing your nose and ribs with soft fingers. The touch grounded you and you tried to steady your breathing. You didn't say much, the pain in you body and the anger that was circling your mind keeping your throat closed.

"I need you to talk to me dear," she whispered. "Does this hurt?" You groaned. "Right, you need an x-ray so we can see what's going on. Let's get you down to the ER. Let's call 'em to let them know we're coming. Somebody get a gurney!"

You felt your heartbeat pick up as she mentioned the ER. Your fingers brushed her arm as she shouted orders. "No ER, please." You groaned at her. "I- I'm fine. Doesn't hurt that bad, I promise." You winced as you tried to put a smile on you face. "Try to convince someone else on that. I'm not keeping you out of the ER just so you can keep your husband in the dark." You groaned, again. "Don't call him. He'll worry. I'm fine." Your attending smiled at you. "Don't worry, I'll leave that to dr. Robinavitch. I would rather not be the one to tell you husband we let you get hurt while working."

Robby, Langdon and Whitaker were waiting in front of the elevator. They took over the gurney when the doors opened and rolled you into one of the rooms. Langdon tried very hard not to hurt you further and assessed your face carefully. You still winced when he brushed your left eye. "Sorry." He whispered at you. Robby was poking your ribs in the meantime. You turned you head towards him.

"Robby," You started, "You didn't call yet, did you?" He nodded and poked a particularly sore spot. "Let's asses first, I'll call him after." You whined at him. "Don't, Robby. He'll just be mad, I'll tell him when I get home." Robby looked at you sternly. "We'll talk about this later." You pouted at him and let Langdon inspect your face again. "Yes dad." You murmured. Langdon couldn't help a laugh escaping him.

Half an hour later you were working on convincing Robby not to call Jack. Your ribs were bruised and you had a massive black eye, but the CT's showed no breaks in you face or your ribs. It did hurt like hell though.

"I am a patient now, Robby, I do not give consent to cal my emergency contact and I am perfectly capable of making that decision right now." Robby nodded fiercely at you. "Yes, those are very pretty words, and very true, but the matter of the fact is that Jack will kill me when he finds out you are in his ER and I did not call him. My life's on the line here, not yours. It's bad enough that Gloria's coming down to investigate, I can not handle an angry Jack on top of that." You almost felt sorry for him.

"I just don't want him freaking out. I'll tell him when he comes in, then he can immediately see that I'm fine." Robby sighed at you. "That won't stop him from killing me and Dana." You grimaced back at him, pain pulsing through your bruises because of the movement. "He won't kill Dana, he'll hold you responsible."

Robby threw his hands in the air in surrender and was called away by an incoming trauma, leaving you alone.

You had planned to stay in the ER bed for another hour to make sure you had no concussion, but five minutes before you wanted to leave the curtain around your bed was ripped open.

"I was going to bring you a coffee upstairs and when I arrive one of the nurses tells me you've been knocked down by a parent and you're in the ER. And when I asked when it'd happened, they told me it was over two hours ago." Jack's face was angry. You opened your mouth to argue but where interrupted.

"So, let's see how you're doing" Langdon stepped in through the curtain and was shocked to see Jack standing there. "Dr. Abbot," Langdon called out, "What are you doing here so early? You shift doesn't start for an hour and a half. Is there a big trauma coming in?" Jack turned, still angry. "Where's Robby?" He demanded. "He's in curtain four, I think. He's been screaming to Gloria about hospital security for the past thirty minutes. But what are you doing here, do you need to discuss something with dr. Robby?" Jack grunted. "Bring him here." You winced at his tone. "Jack, come o-" Jack turned towards you. "Don't. Langdon go get Robby." Frank was confused. "He's in four with a patient. Why can't you just go to him? I've gotta check up on this patient." Jack turned fully towards him and Langdon could see the fury in Abbot's eyes. "Because my wife was brought into the ER this afternoon, and dr. Robinavitch did not contact me. That's why."

Langdon looked around the Pitt. "Your wife was brought in? When? I don't see an Abbot on the board? Where is she."

Jack pointed to you and you grew red.

Langdon opened his mouth but no sound came out. Whitaker kept looking from you to Jack.

"That is your wife?" Langdon gasped after a moment. "She's here all the time! How did you never tell us?" Jack shrugged and gently pushedsome hair out of your face. "Not like you ever asked." You leaned in to his touch. "You can hover around, but let Frank take a look at my face please." Jack's finger brushed your eyebrow. "I can do that. I don't want a resident working on my wife."

You took his fingers and pulled them down, kissing them softly. "Langdon can take care of it. Just sit tight and hold my hand. I'm fine Jack, I promise." You could see some of the worry leave your husband's face. "Sit down. We'll ask someone to cover your shift so you can take me home after. You can make me dinner and we'll hang out on the couch all evening, all right?" Jack resigned and took a seat next to you on the gurney, stroking your thigh with his free hand.

Langdon discharged you a couple minutes later and you managed to get Jack out of the Pitt without bumping into Robby. Jack was still mad that he had been blindsided, but he knew your injuries weren't bad. He'd promised you he'd be screaming at Robby tomorrow, but you were pretty sure you could get him to forgive his friend before then.

Tomorrow was going to be confronting enough, by then the entire hospital would know that the bubbly pediatrician and the grumpy ER physician were married.

Jack helped you into his car and leaned over you to fasten your seatbelt. "Jack," you told him when he was satisfied it was on tightly, "I'm not a kid, I can fasten my own seatbelt." Jack looked up into your eyes. "I know you're not. But you're my wife and I want to take care of you. You scared me darling. I was just going to take you a cup of coffee and I find you in my ER. That's something out of a nightmare. That elevator ride down was the longest of my life. I know you're going to be okay, but I was really terrified for a second there. So just bear with me while I treat you like you're made of glass, all right? It'll make me feel better about it." He walked around the car to get into the driver's seat.

You smiled at your husband. "So, did you abandon the cup of coffee in the pediatric ward or did you have the foresight that I would still want it." Jack fastened his own seatbelt and turned to you. "I did abandon your coffee. So I'm guessing our first stop on the way home is to get a new one?" You nodded at Jack. "You bet. Let's go, husband of mine!" He started the car and took another peek at you, glossing over your face to make sure you were all right. "I love you, my wife."

[booksandteaandtears]

That's your wife? thunder version

Dr. Jack Abbot x f!attending!wife!reader

summary: the new ER personnel does not yet know who Jack is married to. You're a pretty scary ortho attending that seems to always be fighting with Jack

genre: fluff --- be aware: medical inaccuracies

masterlist | sunshine version

You had met Jack in a training centre in Texas. You'd been with the army a couple of years at that point, having joined straight after pre-med. You were specialising in orthopedics because you liked the people working the field and it was a place where you could make a difference to people's life.

Jack had been an emergency lover from the start, so you'd butted heads more then once when you had different opinions. You had heated arguments about patient care, strategies and new techniques. Your fights weren't pretty, but you found you enjoyed them none the less. At some point you found yourself hoping he'd be on shift when you were, aching to see him and bite his head of. He asked you out on a date when you'd saved six patients together in one night.

When Jack got injured and left the army, you handed in your resignation and went with him. You got married as soon as Jack had recuperated enough to get himself down the isle.

You'd started at the PTMC together, Jack downstairs in the Pitt, you upstairs surrounded by ortho bros. Now you were an attending, having been promoted easily because of your natural leadership and medical capabilities and experiences. You were a tough one. New med-students and residents would try to avoid you the first couple of weeks, getting scared when you would sneak up behind them to judge their work. You were harsh and strong, but you were a good teacher and a damn good doctor.

You and Jack were a true enemies to lovers tale, and though you'd arrived at the lovers' side of it now, the snarky comments and fierce looks hadn't stopped. You'd fallen in love through your fighting in emergency situations, and so you kept it up. It felt part of you to act this way towards Jack inside the hospital, the part of you that had started out as enemies never fully left. It made sense for you to work together in this way, and strangely it made you both better doctors when you were biting each other's heads off.

For your colleagues this could be a strange dynamic. They'd get a little nervous if arguments got too heated, but mostly they just ignored and laughed at the names you'd cal each other. Sweetheart was a favourite, although said in a very sarcastic tone. Most people knew that the two of you were hopelessly in love, but they liked to make a game out of it for anyone new. There was, of course, a betting pool when new students or residents would arrive, placing bets on how long it would take the newbies to figure it out. The record was held by Dr. Mohan, who had taken almost four months to figure it out.

You and Jack were both in on the plot, secretly loving it when new doctors would come in and get scared by the hostility between you two in the trauma bay. You two would even amp it up a little bit when you knew the rookies had been gossiping about hospital relationships. You were usually caught because one of Jack's colleagues couldn't stop smirking at your behaviour.

When Mel, Santos, Whitaker and Javadi had been in the ER a couple of weeks, they heard whispers about you. You'd been off to train some combat medics for a month, and had missed Pittfest. Rumours were that you'd be back that day and the entire ER staff was gearing up for it.

Abbot was a couple of hours early that day. He said he'd heard about a multiple collision on the radio and wanted to come in to help. Dana laughed at him. "You tell yourself that, Jack. Just keep the shouting down later. If I hear one more sarcastic sweetheart I might just start throwing things at you."

Mel overheard the conversation and looked away from the board, trying to figure out what she'd missed. Jack was smiling at Dana.

The trauma came in and Jack called for her. "King, you're with me. Degloving injury of the lower right leg. Let's try to get it figured out before ortho comes in to ruin it." They'd been running the trauma for a couple of minutes when you barged through the door. "Right," you ordered, "Who's this and what's going on." You locked your eyes on Mel. "You're the resident running this? Go on, make your report, we haven't got all day. Don't look at Abbot, he doesn't know shit." Mel presented the patient, stumbling over her words because she was flustered by the intensity of the ortho attending. Jack tied off a tourniquet and you stepped in to bump him out of the way.

"Keep your hands of that tourniquet. Did they give you your degree with a carton of milk? I'm taking over." She loosened the tourniquet, trying for a pulse on the foot.

"He's going to bleed out if you don't tie of that tourniquet, sweetheart." He sneered at you. You scoffed at him. "Don't tell me what to do. If we tie it off he's losing his leg for sure, just hang another o-neg and let me look at him first. Can't have everyone limping around like you, sweetheart, so just let me work my miracles." Mel felt her throat constrict when you said it. She was sure Jack was going to burst into anger now. Jack did not, however, and he smiled at you with a twinkle in his eyes. "By all means, you quack. Take all the time you need, I know you always need a little longer to get up to speed. I'll just try to make sure he lives in the meantime."

The jabs continued back and forth and Mel had to take a moment after the trauma to refigure her confused emotions. You'd gone up to the OR with the patient and Jack was working on another one of the collision victims.

Dana found Mel in the hall, staring into it. "Tough day, kid?" Mel nodded. "They're intense, Dr. Abbot and the ortho attending." Dana laughed at that. "Don't I know it. You'll get used to it before long. It's just names they're calling each other, they always figure out the best course of action. It works, one way or another, they're both at the top of their game. But intense is the right word for it." She patted Mel on the back. "Come on kid, it's time for shift change."

Two days later Javadi was caught between one of your arguments, trying to referee it. She couldn't make herself heard over your raised voices. "You're plainly in the wrong, sweetheart. What does your husband think of these idiotic ideas on patient care?" Jack shouted at you. Your eyes turned to thunder. "That's the path you're taking? Do you want to hear what your wife's opinion on the matter is?" Javadi fled.

A week later both Javadi and Mel were running a code with Dr. Abbot when you came bursting through the doors. "I was scrubbing in to a ACL reconstruction, this better be serious or I'm going to kill you all for wasting my time." Mel's face lost some of its colour. "Come on, present the patient!" You barked at her. "It's enough that your attending is always wasting my time. Get on with it." Mel's eyes turned huge and she was picking at her hands from anxiety. You trained your eyes on her, anger evident in the way your brows had furrowed. "Now, if you please! I thought you were a resident, not some nervous med-student. Stop wasting my damn time!" Javadi swallowed her fear and tried to press herself into the corner of the trauma bay.

Dr. Abbot stepped in front of you. "That's enough. You don't get to bitch at my residents. They're not some cadets that you're training. Get over yourself and don't take your anger out on them." You huffed at him. "Jesus, Jack! Are you really quoting my therapist to me? Are you fucking serious?" Jack continued to stare at you. Javadi and Mel got even more confused by the conversation and looked at each other anxiously. Javadi was trying to gauge wether it was best to flee again.

It took ten seconds for you to calm down and apologise to the two women. "Sorry." You told them. "I was out of line and I shouldn't have shouted at you. I apologise. Let's get back to the patient now."

You leaned over the patient to check for any damage to the lower back, dog-tags falling out over the top of your scrub top. Mel could see a golden ring hanging next to them. Jack did the same opposite to you, his dog-tags clanking as they met the wedding ring that was also on his chain. It looked like the one on your neck, only it was a little smaller and it had a beautiful green emerald.

Mel took a step forward and examined the dog-tags on your neck. It took her a moment, but then she could plainly see the name Jack Abbot written on them. Mel blinked in confusion. "Dr. Abbot," She began, "She's wearing your tags." Jack stopped assessing the patient, satisfied that he'd live. He looked at you. "I sure hope she is because otherwise she would have lost them. She already lost my wedding ring once and that's more than enough." You turned away from the patient and snapped your gloves off. "You've got to stop bringing that up Jack, it was years ago. Besides, you're the one who wants my ring around your neck, you possessive man. It's only fair that I get yours in return. Patient will be fine, just sent him up for a CT. I'm gonna scrub for my ACL." You turned to walk out the door. Jack called after you. "We're still on for coffee around 10, right?" You turned back to Jack and kissed him on the lips. "Of course, sweetheart." you said, "Don't forget my creamer." Then you walked off, leaving Mel and Javadi without words.

Javadi finally found her voice after a minute. "That is your wife?" She gasped out. "She is absolutely terrifying." Javadi slapped her hand in front of her mouth as soon as she'd said it.

Jack just laughed at her, walking back to the board. "Yes, isn't she lovely? What do you gen-z-ers call this, having a terrifying partner? I think Shen told me once." He scratched his chin. "Ah, I remember. Scary dog privilege!"

[booksandteaandtears]

You're my only you

Michael 'Dr. Robby' Robinavitch x f!prosecutor!reader

another part in the series that starts with Teaching Hospital. This is the masterlist in suggested reading order, but go ham.

Summary: you're overworking yourself and Robby's had enough. Do you listen? Well... no. Vaguely inspired by my favourite rendition of There Will Never Be Another You.

Mentions of arguments, blood and fainting, medical inaccuracy (I've got a law degree, I'm no doctor). Older reader.

Genre: little angsty, fluffy ending. Robby gets mad 'cause he loves you. Protective! Robby (my fav ❤️), my favourite hospital bed trope.

about 2.3k words

You knew you were working too hard. Robby had told you a hundred times that past week. But you also knew that in six (6!) days time, you'd have to be in court for one of the biggest cases of your life. The police kept sending you more reports, the victims kept sending letters and requests for compensation, and the defence lawyer called you twice a day because he hadn't gotten the police reports yet and it was your responsibility to get those to him. All in all, you were drowning, rapidly.

Robby had noticed weeks ago. You'd stopped taking the time to cook, grabbing take-out and eating it in front of your laptop instead. Your dressing time had decreased drastically, something he didn't know you were capable of, and you got dressed in mere minutes every day. He got worried about you, because he thought both of those things were non-negotiables, as you loved doing them, but you'd brushed him of, saying you'd pick them back up in a little while, when work had calmed down a little.

Then came the point where you asked him to sleep at his own place, because you told him he was distracting you. He'd gotten mad at you.

"You don't want me here?" He'd asked. You'd sighed and put your glasses down on the messy kitchen table. They were new, your eyes finally catching up with your age, and just a month before he'd spend an entire afternoon showing you how sexy they were to him. Robby felt like that was the last time the two of you had spent any quality time together.

"I practically live here!" He growled. "Last month you were talking about moving in together, and now you don't even want me here all of a sudden?" He looked at you with pain in his eyes. You sighed at him. "I need my space, Robby. I need to work, just work, and I can't have you hanging around telling me to sleep more, or eat more, or drink more water." Robby tried to interrupt you. "No, don't. I've been dealing with this for a good twenty years, Micheal. On my own. You've just been here a couple months. I am a grown fucking woman. I don't need you all up in my business, telling me to sleep, to rest, to work less. I don't do that to you, so don't do it to me!" Robby threw his hands up. "You slept for about 20 hours this week. Twenty. This entire week. I never do that, so don't go comparing my working hours to yours. It's dangerous. You need sleep, sweetheart. You can't function without it." You huffed at him. "Oh and you know best, just 'cause you're a doctor? I have to work! People depend on me. I'm fine with the amount of sleep I get, I know myself. Just stay out of my way, please. You've got an apartment, go sleep in your own bed and worry about your own life. I don't want you here." You grabbed a binder out of the mess to your right and slammed it open, the force of it disturbing one of the stacks of paper so it fell to the floor. "Fuck." You muttered, and bent to pick them up. Robby looked at you with tears in his eyes. "Let's talk about it, sweetheart, don't shut me out like this. We work better together when we talk about things." Your eyes were thunder when you looked at him. "Just leave. I need to work, I don't have time for this bullshit." "This bullshit?" He sputtered back, "If this is bullshit to you, then I am gone." He stormed off, up the stairs. "Good." You muttered, "Just let me work in peace."

Ten minutes later he was downstairs again, backpack in hand. When you looked up at him, a dribble of blood left your nose, a red splat landing on the report you were highlighting. Dramatic timing.

"Fuck." You whispered, trying to stand up and contain your bloody nose at the same time. Robby was at your side in a second, putting a clean towel under your nose and pinching the bridge. He pushed you back onto the chair gently. "Look at me." You reluctantly turned your head towards him and he inspected your nose. His strong hand took hold of your chin, bringing the towel back to your nose with the other. He made you look at him properly. "If you don't want to listen to me, listen to your body. You've been freezing all week, you're not hungry, even for your favourite pasta. I know you were supposed to get your period and you didn't, and now you have a fucking nosebleed. Get yourself together sweetheart. Trust me, listen to me. You've gotta sleep, you can't do it like this. You're overworking yourself."

You looked down to evade his eyes. He made you look up at him again with a push of his hand. "I am leaving, because I'm angry with you, and I'm sad. But I need you to sleep more tonight. Alright? I need you to be alright." You didn't answer. He stepped back and slung his backpack over his shoulder. You still did not say anything as he left for the door and turned around. "I love you. Text me when you can see reason again. Hunch over and keep that nose pinched for ten minutes." And then he stepped out and was gone.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

Dana was fed up with you. Dr. Robby had been grumpy for weeks, but today he was a literal thunderstorm. Dana knew all too well what would be the cause for that, and she blamed you for his mood. The poor Pitt-crew was carrying the damage and morale was low. Even sniffing too loudly was a sure way to receive an earful from the chief attending, let alone actual medical mistakes. Dana was done with it.

She cornered him four hours into the shift, waiting for him outside the men's toilets. Dr. Robby nearly bumped into her. "Jeez, Dana. This is an ER, you are a nurse, not an arrest team ambushing someone." He tried to continue walking but she stepped in front of him. Her face was stern. "Dana, this is not the day for this, let me pass." She didn't move. "Are you going to tell me what's going on or are you going to keep scaring all the med students away? You are obviously not okay." Robby's anger broke when he saw the worry in her eyes. He rubbed a hand over his beard. "I have been an asshole today, haven't I." Dana raised an eyebrow but said nothing. Robby stared at a point behind her but kept quiet as well. After two minutes Dana was through with waiting. "I'm going for a smoke, you're going to follow me, and you're going to tell me what went wrong for you to have such an attitude. And then you're going to sit outside for a minute and think about how you're going to behave differently for the rest of today. Come on Cap, follow me." Robby followed her like a sad puppy whose favourite toy had broken.

After explaining about your fight yesterday, Robby calmed down a little. Dana lit another cigarette. "She's even worse than you are." Robby looked at her, exhausted. "In stubbornness? Yes, definitely." "In how much she cares. She's not working so hard for herself, you know? She's terrified that something will go wrong because of her. There's a lot at stake, if she makes mistakes it has an impact on people's life. A big impact. The kid's just worried about that, just like you're worried about what you could have done differently after a hard day. You blame yourself, so does she." Robby dragged a hand across his face, messing up his beard in the process. "I know, but I don't know how to tell her everything will be alright. She doesn't listen to a word I say." Dana turned her head to blow the smoke away from him. "She hasn't slept, she's not thinking clearly. When you get home tonight she'll probably be fast asleep, and she'll be better in the morning. She's tough, she'll figure it out." Robby looked disgruntled. "I know. Doesn't mean I like waiting for her to fall apart." "She'll come round. You guys love each other to bits, you can get through a rough patch. But she'll kill you if she finds out you've been slacking at work because of her, so let's get to it."

They stepped back inside and Robby whispered a quiet "sorry" to Collins who had been on the receiving end of one of his louder outbursts. She forgave him with a little pinch in his hand. Calm had re-entered the Pitt.

That was until an EMT came in. "44 year old female, passed out at work, colleagues said she'd been working too much and not sleeping. BP 146 over 94. Tachycardic at 132 bpm. Could not wake her on scene. Oh and someone said her boyfriend worked here?"

Robby dropped the chart he was holding and sprinted towards the gurney, stopping when he could see your face. You were so pale, way worse than you had been the day before. He felt panic rise in him, rapidly. Dr. King took the gurney and wheeled you towards one of the curtains. Langdon came running up next to her. "Let's get an IV going and keep our attention on that heart rate. If she hasn't been sleeping she'll probably be fine with some rest, but let's get some bloods done as well. Let's try to rule out the usual." Robby was next to the nurses' desk, frozen. He felt like his heart was stuck in his throat. Dana ran past him and started massaging the crook of your elbow to put an IV in, doing so swiftly. Mel lifted your head up and felt at the back of it. "There's a slight bump, let's get her to CT as well, must have hit something on the way down." Langdon nodded at her and turned towards Robby. "She'll be alright boss. Your girl will be fine. Just give her a minute."

Dana arrived at the desk a second later and pushed Robby towards a chair. "You sit down now, cap. Give us a minute, let us work, and she'll be fine. You're a doctor, you know there is nothing bad happening to the kid, she's just overtired en dehydrated." Robby could not peel his eyes of her figure on the gurney. "Stop looking at her like she's dying, she's not. Use your brain, you're a doctor for god's sake." Robby sat down and buried his face in his hands. Dana put a cup of water in front of him. "Hey, cap, look at me." Robby lifted his head out of his hands. "You drink this, and then go sit next to your girl. Jack's on his way, he'll take over."

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

You woke up a couple hours later, majorly disoriented. The light was too strong and you groaned while you blinked at it. "Hi, sweetheart." You heard someone whisper. Opening your eyes fully you saw that a curtain had been pulled around you. You looked straight into the fluorescent lighting above you. You groaned again and turned to your right. "Hi sweetheart." Robby whispered again. "You could have just told me you wanted to visit me at work, I would have given you a tour."

You cracked a smile but a headache took over instantly, making you close your eyes again. "Ouch." You whispered. "Yes, ouch is the right word. You got yourself a concussion by fainting and hitting your head." You could feel the hurt in his words and cracked an eye open. "I'm sorry." You whispered, voice croaking from your dry throat. "I should have listened to you. I shouldn't have sent you away. I regretted it the minute you left." Robby smiled at you. "Bet you were too stubborn to text me." You nodded and laid your head in his left hand that was lying on the gurney. His right hand reached for the other side of your face and he lowered his face to yours. His nose touched yours softly.

“You’ve got to take care of yourself better.” He whispered. “You’re my only you, remember. Can’t exchange you when you break.” 

A tear left your eye. "I know, I'm sorry. I'm sorry I pushed you away. I just..." A sob made it hard to breathe. "There's people relying on me to do my job. It matters to them, and I'm the only one who can help them. And it's terrifying that it al depends on me so I try so hard to make everything perfect. And I know I was doing too much, but I'm scared to share it all with you, Robby, I've done it all by myself, all these years." His thumb wiped your tear away. "I know sweetheart, but I'm here now, and I see you. I see you, and your worries and your pain, and we can do it together, alright? You just gotta let me in, sweetheart."

"I didn't know you noticed all of those things. How much I eat, when I last had my period, how much cooking and getting dressed up mean to me." You sniffled and Robby smiled at you. "Of course I do. I love you."

You touched his arms, the feeling of the muscles grounding you. "I need a hug." You breathed out. "And then I need sleep." A smile crept up on Robby's face and he folded himself onto the bed next to you. He was careful not to rip out your IV and hugged you close to his chest, his face buried in your neck. "Then let's sleep sweetheart, we'll figure it all out when we wake up."

It didn't take long before Mel opened the curtain to check on you, and found the two of you fast asleep, curled up on a bed that was far too small. Robby's feet were hanging out. It took even less long for a haggle of doctors and nurses to assemble in front of the bed, pushing each other away for the best spot to take a picture. A betting pool was set to gamble on how long it would take for Robby to fall out of the bed and wake up. Dana bet an hour and 38 minutes and won.

[booksandteaandtears]

A much needed conversation

Dr. Michael "Robby" Robinavitch x f!prosecutor!reader

summary: You and Robby have a serious talk about a subject you've been hesitant to bring up.

read how they met! | Masterlist

I was flabbergasted when I found out how much someone in Robby's role would be earning so this is me expressing my own ignorance. (Go get that bag though, 'cause those therapy sessions don't pay for themselves)

genre: don't worry, yet more fluff for this sweet couple, I could never do them harm 😉

about 1k words

You had been worried about something for a while, but had been hesitant to bring it up, because you did not want to embarrass Robby. It had been gnawing at you for a while though, so you knew you'd have to broach the subject someday. It was at a nice restaurant, some months into your relationship that you decided a conversation was needed.

"So, are you going to let me pay this time?" You asked. Robby looked at you, confused. He had never once let you near the waitress to pay, always faster than you to get his card out. "No? I can pay, I want to pay." He answered you. You sighed at him and tried to smile encouragingly. "Just let me pay Robby, I earn more than you." You tried to put it out there fast and soft. A laugh escaped him. "What?" You said, "You obviously don't even have the money for nice clothes. You can't be spending all this money on me, I am more than capable of paying. I know you doctor types are always massively in debt from med school. I was talking about it with my colleagues last week and I heard the average is about 350k of debt for doctors."

Robby couldn't stop his laughter from growing. "Do you really think I'm poor, based on the clothes I'm wearing? I didn't realise you were so close minded." Your cheeks grew red and you scoffed at him, "Well not poor, but you have been rotating the same three shirts for our dates these past months and some of the furniture in your apartment is almost falling apart. I didn't want to bring it up, because I know you men have complex feelings about your women earning more than you, but I think it's quite simple in this case. I earn more, so just let me pay." Robby took a sip of wine. "Firstly, I only own three nice shirts 'cause I have no time and desire to go shopping. I'd rather spend my precious free hours with you than in a mall. And secondly, even if you earned more money than me I'd have no issue with it. You've worked hard your whole life, you deserve the salary you earn. But again, don't just presume I don't earn more than you."

You sought eye contact with the man in front of you. "I'm a deputy district attorney, that's one of the highest paying jobs in the country." Robby just blinked. "I'm the chief of emergency medicine at a big hospital, do you not know how much a senior attending gets paid?" You scoffed, "What, like a $100.000 a year probably, $120.000 maybe as chief? But again, you're probably still paying off your student debt." "Try roughly three to four times as much. And no student debt. I'm getting close to sixty years old, if I was still in debt I'd be paying 'till I diead." Your mouth shot open. "Excuse me?" Robby finished the wine in his glass and nodded, still unable to stop laughing at your confusion. You blushed at the man in front of you. "Right, I feel stupid now. I genuinely thought you earned okay money, but this is just crazy. You are loaded." You looked at him, still in disbelief. "You know what," he answered, "We're going shopping tomorrow, I'll buy myself some different shirts and then I'm paying for those shoes you've been looking at for a month."

The next day Robby had made good on his promise and the afternoon had ended in the park with coffee and pastry. "So," Robby said while you were mid bite. "Are you going to tell me why you were so weird about the money yesterday? Did you really think I'd mind?" You almost chocked on your almond croissant. You'd had a hard time falling asleep the night before, going over the conversation in the restaurant several times before dreaming about it again.

You focused on a child running through the park and Robby put a hand on your thigh to pull your mind back to him. "Sorry." You murmur at him. "I shouldn't have had the conversation like that yesterday. I was wrong to presume anything about your financial situation. It's just been a painful point in some past relationships, so I thought I would lighten the blow a bit this way. I was wrong though."

Robby took a sip of coffee and you could see that he was overthinking what you had said. "What do you mean, a painful point in past relationships." He asked after some consideration. You shied away from the eye contact, looking at a dog nearby. "At some point they'd find out that I was earning more than them. They wouldn't tell me outright that they didn't like it, but they kept grumbling about it. It was never the main reason why things ended with my exes, but it was certainly a factor."

"They weren't sure enough of their masculinity that you out earning them was a point of friction? I see why women have so little trust in men. I thought we left being jealous of successful women behind in the seventies." You laughed at him, relief flooding your body from the ease of his reaction.

He turned to face you. "But why were you scared to bring that up with me? You didn't think I'd react the same, did you?" A flush crept over your face. "I should have known better, but yes, I was scared you would." Robby pulled you closer to him, your head leaning on his shoulder. "It's kind of strange for you to worry whether I'll still love you depending on your income," He murmured into your hair, "When last week you asked me if i'd still love you as a worm and my answer was yes." You giggled at him, content that the worry was off your mind and fully at peace with him in the moment. His hand reached up to your face and he pulled you in for a sweet kiss.

[booksandteaandtears]

Makeshift veterinarian

Dr. Jack Abbot x f!cop!reader

Summary: a day that starts bad ends up better because of a certain grumpy trauma doctor. but mostly because of a cat.

genre: fluff, jack doesn't like cats

content warnings: a cat gets hurt and underage drinking

about 2.1k words

masterlist

Some days as a cop were really bad. Some days were pretty good. Some were in between. And some, were actually fantastic.

Now this day hadn't started out fantastic. You had an evening shift, which you hated 'cause it meant dealing with drunk youngsters. You did not get to team up with your preferred partner because they were on vacation. And on top of everything, you had new boots on because someone had puked all over your old ones yesterday and you could not get the smell or the stains out. Bad week.

The new boots were a problem. Not only because you could already feel the blisters coming up, but mostly because new boots meant problems. You'd picked out the pattern years ago: anytime you got new boots and people commented on them, you'd have the worst shift of that year.

So you and your rookie were hiding out in the suburbs, en route to a concerned neighbour that wanted the teens kicked out of the yard a couple houses over. Your partner tonight was basically a teen himself, fresh out of the academy.

"Just left here," Said Cooper while you were driving into a suburb not too far from the city centre. “And then it should be number 88, on your right hand side." You parked the car and both of you stepped out, checking your belt before closing the door. "Right Cooper, this one's yours. Should be an easy one, just tell the neighbour we'll ask them to quiet down and it should be solved easily." He knocked on the door, and it took a minute for a calm face to open it. You couldn't help but notice how handsome he was.

"Mr. Abbot?" Cooper asked. The man nodded and gestured for the two of you to come in. The house was a little cluttered and not too big, filled with books, an old leather sofa and a beat up police scanner was laying on an otherwise empty cabinet. A crutch was placed next to the door and he picked it up when he followed you into the house, leaning on it when he lifted his left leg up, putting his weight on the crutch instead of his right leg. You took a moment to take a closer look at him. His brown greyish hair was messy, like he'd raked his hand trough it a lot. The shadows on his chin and neck were slightly messy, but not unkempt. "It's the neighbourhood kids," he started to explain. "They're making a bunch of noise, which is fine by me, I'm working night shifts over at PTMC anyway. I'm just concerned they're drinking too much. I'd go over there myself but they don't really listen to me." Cooper nodded. He looked at you expectantly. You looked straight back at him. That boy did not know how to take the lead in anything. When the silence got a little too long and unbearable you stepped in. "Sir, any reason you're worried about exuberant alcohol intake, did you see any of the kids? We're not about to walk in there just on a hunch." Mr. Abbot smiled at you, making intense eye contact. "They're screaming about chugging approximately every 7 minutes. There's about 15 boys there, based on the cars in front, maybe a couple girls. If they've been keeping this tempo up since earlier they will all be at least a good couple of beers in at this point. And they're young, about 16 or so, so alcohol poisoning will creep up fast. I hooked two of the kids up to an IV last week, when the neighbour's' kid came around because his friends wouldn't stop puking. I'd rather prevent myself the trouble this week. I’d walk over there myself, but my prosthetic has been acting up and II doubt they’d listen to me anyway." Abbot pointed to the prosthetic in the corner. Cooper was trying to jot down what Abbot was saying, but he was missing half of it.

You decided to end the painful encounter on Cooper's part and promised Mr. Abbot you'd try to reason with the kids. Cooper tried to save face by saying "Thank you for your concern, Mr. Abbot!" a little too loudly. Abbot nodded, but when Cooper turned around he grunted, "Dr. Abbot actually, but I think that's too much information for the kid too remember." Your hand shot to your face, trying not to laugh at your partner, and at least conceal it when you did. Dr. Abbot smirked at you. "Good luck with that one." He winked at you. "Thanks." You whispered back. You could feel your face turning red.

When you arrived at the kid's house, it was more quiet than you expected. You knocked on the door, but when there was no answer you let yourself and Cooper into the garden 'round the back. It seemed the reason for the quiet was that around half of the kids had fallen asleep and the other half was busy making out. Cooper blinked and stared at you. You sighed at him. "Are you going to take charge of this one, or is it up to me again." The blinking continued. "Right." You muttered. "New shoes day and an incapable rookie. What could go wrong."

"Hello there!" You shouted into the garden, trying to assert authority. "Everybody up and at ‘em, cups on the floor, tongues out of each other's mouthes! Look lively!" The kids scrambled up and the sound of red cups dropping filled the air. "So, whose parents am I going to call for the mess around here?" A couple kids pointed towards a dark haired boy on the right, that has just been kissing with a blonde girl. You scanned him quickly. "This is your parents' house?" "Yes, ma'am." The boy answered. "Do they know you and your friends were out drinking here?" He swallowed. "They know about the friends, not about the drinking." You hummed. "That's what I thought. All right, here's what we'll do. Firstly, all this drink is going to get thrown out. You three on the right can get started on that. Secondly you're going to clean this mess up, so your friend won't get busted by his parents. And I'm taking ID's while you do that, so don't thinks you'll get off easy. I'm writing you all down, and next time anything happens you might just be spending a night in jail. I'm guessing you don't want to have to explain that to your parents, now do you?." The kids nodded fiercely. "Then you're all going to go back to your houses to hit the hay. I don't want you driving, so either get someone to pick you up or sleep over here and drive home sober in the morning. Monday afternoon, after school, you'll all be reporting at the women's shelter downtown, and you're going to get put to work. Is that clear to you all?" They nodded again. "I asked, is it clear?" A choir of "yes ma'am" filled the lawn. "Good, and don't entertain the thought that I won't find out whether you've been by the shelter, 'cause I will. Now Cooper, get to writing down names." Cooper opened his notepad and somehow got ink al over his hands from his pen. "Yes ma'am." This was bound to be a long night.

Half an hour later you were headed back towards the car, the kids were dealt with. You were trying to explain to Cooper why you had chosen to deal with the evening as you had when you heard a noise on the street beside you. You stopped walking and turned towards the sound. An orange cat lay on the street, blood dripping from his left hind leg. You hurried towards it immediately. "Oh you poor thing, did someone hit you and run? Oh darling." You stroked the cat's head and a dishearteningly quiet meow escaped it. "Oh, you sweet, your leg hurts, I know. We'll make it better." You picked the poor thing up and turned towards Cooper. His eyes were big as he asked you, "What are we going to do with that now?"

"The cat's broken its leg." Is what you decided to start the conversation with. Dr. Abbot stood in front of you, staring you in the face. "And you brought it to me to fix up? Saw my leg and thought I might feel for the thing? I don't like cats. Try someone else." "You're a doctor, you're supposed to help. Don't be so grumpy about it." "I am a doctor, yes, for humans. Not for furry things with claws. You need a vet for that." Your eyes dropped to the Dog Tags that were hanging out of his V-neck shirt. "You are a vet." You sighed and pushed past him, into the house. He grabbed your shoulder to stop you and looked you in the eyes, again. "Wrong kind of vet, kid. Take the fur ball to a real one." You shook the hand off and placed the cat on his kitchen table. "Just take a quick peek at the poor thing. It's shivering already and I'm sure you know how to fix it. If you just set the leg we can drop the poor boy of at a shelter afterwards. The vet won't take him in if no one's paying."

Dr. Abbot circled the table. "Girl." He said. "Pardon me?" "It's a girl," he said, gesturing between the cat's leg, "There's just a tail between those legs, nothing else." A smirk crossed your face. "You're going to help her then?" Abbot looked back at you. "I'll see what I can do. But I make no promises." You smiled. "Thank you, Dr. Abbot." He turned to the sofa and grabbed a bag. "Just Jack will do for now, I'm not treating any human patients anyhow."

Half an hour later the cat was treated with about half the contains of Jack's go-bag, and she was snoozing happily in a towel on the table. You had thought him handsome before, but it had somehow multiplied while watching him hunched over the cat, all his focus on trying to help the poor thing. It didn't help that his arms had looked amazing while doing it. You swallowed your thoughts. "Thank you Jack, I know I pushed you into that, you didn't have to do it." Jack scoffed. "You act like there was any choice, you just barged in here with that girl. I can't say not to a pretty lady bossing me around. Pretty sure you'd have called the cops on me if I had refused." His eyes twinkled with amusement. A smirk touched the corners of your lips. "I won't comment on that. I'm just a good judge of character, I knew you wouldn't say no in the end.” You picked up the jacket that you had shrugged off to assist in keeping the car still. “Cooper's just going to get the car and then we will be on our way with the poor thing." A sigh escaped Jack and he started mumbling. You blinked at him, you couldn't hear what he said. He sighed again and repeated himself. "I'll keep the thing here for now. I just spent 30 minutes saving its leg, it would be a waste is she was just going to get an infection at the shelter now." You raised your eyebrow. "You're going to take care of her?" He nodded and petted the cat's head. "Sure, though I don't really know how." You avoided his attentive eyes by petting the cat as well. Your finger brushed against his and your heart skipped a beat. "I'll come by after my shift." You answered, probably sounding a bit too eager. "I'll get some cat food and a scratch pole, I'll help you figure it out." Jack nodded and smiled at you. "Sure, I'd like that. It's a date." You looked up from the cat and returned his smile. “Don’t get your hopes up, Jack Abbot. I’m only coming for the cat.”

Your new shoes had no impact the rest of the night, and the next morning, when you came to help him with the cat, Jack had breakfast waiting for you. Best shift of your life.

[booksandteaandtears]

And to my darling husband!

Dr. Jack Abbot x famous!wife

I don't know why but I'm obsessed with Abbot hiding the fact that he has a wife from everyone. Here's my first take on it, more to follow.

genre: sweet, short

summary: A famous singer has a benefit concert nearby, and its being streamed at the Pitt. The Pitt-crew make a lot of comments about her, but they come to regret it before the shift is over... poor Shen.

about 800 words

masterlist

"Hey Dr. Abbot, you wanna put on the benefit concert on the television tonight? That singer you like is closing it"

Jack Abbot looked up from his phone and into Shen's face incredulously. "That singer I like?"

"Yeah, you know her. I've heard you whistle her songs a lot these past months. You were humming her newest song last shift."

Jack raised his eyebrows, unaware that he had ever whistled within ten miles of his co-workers. He decided that playing it cool would be his best course of action. "Sure, put it on. Don't think will get much time to look at any of it during a full moon shift, but it can't hurt."

"Sweet!" Shen slurped the remainder of his iced coffee and turned to leave the break room. Robby came in at that moment. "Hey Dr. Robby, you heading to the benefit tonight? Heard that gorgeous singer's performing." Robby raised his eyebrows at Jack. "That gorgeous singer, huh? But no, I've got a date with my bed tonight. Talking about that gorgeous singer, why are you here Jack, aren't you supposed to be-" Jack raised his eyebrows back at him, looking at Shen over Robby's shoulder. "Any reason I'm not supposed to be here? I always work full moon shifts." Robby raised his hands in defeat, "Never mind, never mind, I'll keep your private life private, don't you worry."

Two hours later, a small group of staff had gathered in front of the TV next to the nurses' station. Through some miracle performed by a higher power, you could not call the ER busy on this full moon night, and they were spending their time looking at the concert. Jack kept himself busy by reading some update in a medical journal behind the desk, feigning disinterest in the concert. His eyes kept wondering to the screen, glancing to see what artist was performing.

"Ah, look," Said Ellis, leaning over the desk with a chart in her hand. "She's starting her performance. God, isn't she beautiful? I keep wondering what she'd be like in real life." Jack nodded at her. "Sure, she's one of a kind." His hand reached up to his necklace involuntarily, his thumb and forefinger tracing the ring that was on it. Ellis caught the movement and smiled at him. "Ooh, but not as pretty as your wife, I see how it is. You ever gonna tell us who this lady who was crazy enough to marry you is?" Jack muttered something under his breath and turned his attention back towards the journal in his hand.

Ten minutes later the crowd in front of the TV had grown even more. Jack wished he could do something about it, but there really was nothing else to do for the ER staff. He leaned back in his chair, eyes towards the screen, hand on the ring next to his Dog Tags.

"You know, they say she's married to a doctor. Some tiktoker posted about it a couple days ago. Had a whole list of evidence." He heard someone say, his grip tightened. "No way," scoffed one of the nurses, "She's way too hot for that. I'll bet you she's dating a sportsman of some kind, like a hockeyplayer or something. Someone buff and handsome. I'll put twenty bucks on it."

Shen agreed. "If i were her husband I wouldn't spend a second away from her, let alone a 12 hour shift. There's no way someone like her married a doctor."

Abbot took that moment to clear his throat, rather loudly, and any further comments were made at a lower volume. That didn't mean he couldn't hear them though.

When the singer was almost done with her performance, she gave her thanks to the organisers, stressing the importance of the charities the concert was supporting. The level of excitement rose when the ER staff realised she was going to sing one more song, one of her greatest hits.

"And to my darling husband, who couldn't be here tonight 'cause he's out there saving lives on a full moon, I thank you for always being my person, my love, my everything. I love you, Dr. Jack Abbot, this song is for you!"

Jack couldn't help a smirk crawling up his face when Shen turned around and looked absolutely terrified.

[booksandteaandtears]

Building something

Michael 'Dr. Robby' Robinavitch x f!prosecutor!reader

continuation of Teaching Hospital (was meant to be a short, but now I can't stop myself from turning it into a mini-series)

summary: something starts building between the two. quite literally. ft. chaotic mornings, highly interested colleagues, furniture and a very stubborn reader

genre: pure fluff, a few shorter snippets, an overview of them falling in love, Robby is a simp

about 2.1k words

masterlist

You hadn't expected Dr. Robby to call you literally fifteen minutes after you left the hospital, but that wasn't to say you weren't happy with it. He'd opened the bottle of wine two days later, seated on your balcony, heaps of Indian food in front of you, Elle Fitzgerald playing in the background -your choice.

He'd been a real gentleman, especially because your arm was still in the sling: pulling back your chair, cutting pieces that were too big, insisting you were not allowed to do the dishes. There were jokes and prolonged eye contact, subtle touches when reaching for the wine bottle and flirty remarks.

When he was saying goodbye on your doorstep, you promised him you'd cook next time. "Next time?" He asked. You nodded at him. "I'll pick you up when your shift ends Friday. Try not to be too late. Emphasis on try." Then you kissed him on his cheek, turned around and closed the door. Robby was stunned on the step for a minute, unaware that you were squealing on the other side of the door.

All your dates flowed easily, conversation was great, the banter even better. The second date (where he had been late, because a trauma had come in ten minutes before he was supposed to leave), had earned Robby a peck on his lips. By the third date he couldn't help himself, and pulled you against him when you tried to make it a quick kiss again. After a second he could feel you melt into his chest, hands gripping the hair in his neck. When you both came up for air he leaned his forehead against yours, noses touching. "Sorry," he whispered. "I've been wanting to do that since you came into my ER. Couldn't stop myself this time." You smile back at him, turning you lips towards his ear. "I know." You whispered. "I was trying to test when you'd finally make a move. Took you two dates longer that I thought." Upon hearing this, his hands shot towards your jaw and his lips found yours again.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

Dana tried to be subtle. Keyword: tried. It just did not come naturally to her. So when Robby turned up to work with a smile on his face after date three, she could not help herself. "Did you help the lady with her wine? Got your hoodie back yet? You're looking less of a sad boy every week." By some unfortunate miracle both Langdon and Abbot were near enough to hear her ask, and they abandoned whatever they were doing to join the questioning committee. "The lady? What lady?" "You gave your hoodie away? You never allow me near the thing." Robby sighed. "Thanks Dana. I'll be withdrawing your wingwoman title." He turned towards the break room, the two men stalking behind him.

"Come on, brother. You can't keep this stuff to yourself." Abbot was saying as Robby poured himself some coffee. "I can, and I will." "What can't he keep to himself?" Collins had chosen that moment to join them. Robby sighed. Timing was not on his side today. Collins grabbed the coffee from his hand and took a sip. "Is this about the patient wearing your hoodie a couple weeks ago? The one with the pretty face? How did your flirting turn out?" "Fli-flirting?" Langdon stuttered, "In the ER? With a PATIENT?" Robby sighed, again. "Yes, Langdon. Flirting. In the ER. With a patient. Did you think I had forgotten how to?" Then Robby turned out the door and fled from his residents.

Half an hour later a betting pool was started on when exactly Dr. Robby would admit he had a girlfriend. Dana's money was on four months, Jack's on five.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

The morning after date four Robby had woken in your bed. He smiled to himself when he realised where he was and pulled you closer against him, breathing in your hair. There had been no awkwardness, not the night before, not that morning as you took a shower while he made breakfast. He was fascinated by your morning ritual, the speed at which you shoved eggs into your mouth, while somehow simultaneously applying mascara and reading emails. He leaned back in his chair, calmly sipping coffee. "You know, you told me you hated mornings, but now I see why. I know women can multitask, but this is too much too handle at once, for anyone." You smirked. "You caught me on a good day, Michael. If it'd been a court day there would be stacks of paper everywhere. And I would have taken an extra fifteen minutes getting dressed." It had taken you a good half an hour already today. Robby blinked and mumbled something about efficiency. When the last of breakfast had disappeared you sprinted upstairs, grabbing you bag and heels, and came charging down the stairs again. "Right," you mumbled as you sifted through your bag, "Keys, laptop, charger, phone, wallet." You wobbled on one heel as you tried to put on the other. Robby stepped in and stabilised you. "Thanks," you smiled at him. "Thanks for last night, and for breakfast. It was calm this morning because of you." Robby chuckled at you. "This was calm? I can't wait to catch you on a bad day." You pulled him towards yourself and kissed him, closer to his lips now you were on heels. "Sleep over again tonight and you might experience it tomorrow. I'll be back around 8, you up for some Chinese food tonight?" Robby smiled and kissed her again. "Text me when you leave, I'll take care of the food." With another peck she bolted out the door.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

By month three of dating you decided Robby needed some wardrobe space in your house. He'd started taking extra clothes to work so he'd have a chance to change after he'd spend the night, but you hated that. You wanted him to feel at home in your place. Robby argued that he felt quite at home, as he'd spend almost every night of the past two weeks there, but you wouldn't hear it. You had decided on it, and nothing an nobody could steer you from it now. Robby was learning to work with that stubbornness, so he'd agreed on it eventually. There was, however, the small issue of actually making space in your wardrobe. It should have been easy, having a massive walk-in, but it had been filled to the brim for years, piling over into other rooms recently.

At the moment you were both staring at the walk-in. Robby tried to keep the smirk of his face. Your eyes pinched in determination and gestured towards a cabinet at the back. "If I fit more shoes into the right side of that cabinet, I can give you a plank on the left." As you opened the right side, shoes fell out and you were nearly buried beneath them. Robby was working hard on keeping a poker-face, knowing you'd stop being stubborn when you were ready for it, but not before. He kept his distance in the doorway. After you'd opened two more cabinets and the floor was littered with clothes and shoes, he'd had enough of it. You were sat amid the chaos, feeling defeated. He shuffled in front of you, knees groaning as he sat down. His back was leaning against one of the closet doors that wasn't opened. "I think," he started carefully, "You might have a few too many clothes to be making space." You pouted at him. "How about you pick out an extra wardrobe, we put it in your spare bedroom and I take a drawer there? You can fill the rest with your overflow. Might even be able to buy that new dress you've been eyeing since we saw it in town last week." You shuffled yourself towards his laps and straddled him. "Excellent problem solving skills, Dr. Robinavitch. I can see why you're good in an ER." You laughed and kissed him, his hands finding your waist. "But you'll be the one putting that wardrobe together, cause I've got two left hands and I don't want to end up in your Pitt." "Deal." He whispered against your lips and pulled you closer towards him on his lap. The two of you stayed in that wardrobe quite some time.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

While Robby had thought a new wardrobe would mean a trip to IKEA, you had tastes that pointed you the opposite way. That was how Robby was now stood in you spare room, looking at the pieces of an antique wardrobe you had picked out. You were in court all day, and he had a day of, so he'd decided that this would be the day he'd try to build the thing. No audience when he'd inevitably end up cursing at the wardrobe. IKEA building he could do, that was as easy as following the manual, but this required actual skill in carpentry. After ten minutes of staring at the heavy wood he decided he'd need to call in back up.

Court was adjourned for fifteen minutes when you finally dared to take a peek at your phone. Your background was still a picture of a trip to the Alps a couple years back, but you were debating on changing it to the close up picture you took of you and Robby holding hands at the farmers market last weekend.

Robby: So, I'd rather not admit it, but I need to call in back up for that wardrobe of yours. You okay with me inviting a friend into your home? 😅

You: As long as you serve him the good coffee I'm all for it! 😉 Top cabinet next to the mugs.

You: And with a friend you mean Jack, right?

Robby: Yep, he's coming over in ten

You: Will said friend stay for dinner? I'd like to meet him. Planning on making pasta alla norma! 🍝

Robby: He'd be delighted 😘

And so there were three of you on the balcony that evening. Abbot had saved the day. As a reward, you had taken a nice, Italian red from your stash and were enjoying it slightly chilled. Robby had learned early on that he had nog choice in wines, not at home, nor at a restaurant. He had picked up a very sour white wine once and was banned from ever choosing wine again.

He'd been worried about you meeting his best friend, but in all honesty, not a second had been awkward between the two of you. You were in excited conversation about the workmanship that had gone into your new wardrobe, Abbot apparently got just as animated about good carpentry as you, so Robby had zoned out of the conversation a while ago. He was quite content looking at the view, hearing you and his friend go on about dovetail joints and how to best treat mahogany. At some point you stood up to get more wine, leaving Abbot and Robby.

"So," began Jack. "Why the hell have you been hiding her from us all these months?" Robby rolled his eyes. "It's been barely three months, give me a break." Jack laughed. "She's a catch, brother. And you know it. She gets it, doesn't she? Your life? How work overtakes it all some days?" Robby nodded. "It's not the same, being a prosecutor, but it's similar in some things. Work never stops, the responsibilities are massive, making mistakes hurts people. She understands the pressure, the stakes. She knows the hurt people can bring about, the terror a human being can bring onto someone else." It was Jack's turn to nod. Robby looked at his friend and smiled. "It hasn't diluted her though, that life, she's so bright and happy and sure. She's strong." "And Dana approved of her." Jack replied. Robby laughed, a genuine smile reaching his eyes. "Yes, that she did."

When Jack had left, the two of you were sat on the sofa, staring out of the balcony doors, enjoying the end of a lovely evening. You had snuggled up into Robby, head resting on his chest. He closed his eyes and kissed the top of your head. "Michael," You whispered, "I think I love you." You looked up at him. A warmth filled his heart. "I know I love you." He whispered back.

[booksandteaandtears]

Teaching Hospital

Michael 'Dr. Robby' Robinavitch x f!prosecutor!reader

Summary: You're a prosecutor and end up in the Pitt with a dislocated shoulder. You're a teaching case for Javadi and Dr. Robby supervises. Supervision turns into flirting quite easily

genre: pure fluff, smart and older female reader, flirty!Robinavitch, reader takes the first step, Dana is a wingwoman, Javadi is scared she'll mess up

about 1.4 k words

masterlist and I wrote a part 2

You had walked into the Pitt, your left arm supporting you right, two cops trailing you with worry. You'd told them several times already that it was your own fault for deciding to hop aboard their patrol. After two decades of relying on police investigations in the courtroom, you had wanted to see more of the process, but you were regretting it now.

You knew a lot of police work was dealing with rowdy drunks, even around noon on a weekday, so you'd stayed back when the cops had stopped outside a bar downtown. You had been so focused on what was happening in front of you that you hadn't seen the guy coming from your right. And now you were in a busy ER, holding your arm because it felt like it was going to get ripped from its socket.

Once you'd been triaged, given a sling and the doctors had decided you weren't badly injured, the cops you'd been with apologised and continued their shift. Your jacket had been cut open to access your injury, so the remaining half was draped over your right shoulder. The painkillers started to work after a while. You sat on a sticky plastic chair, surrounded by the nightly clientele of the Pitt, wishing you'd brought your laptop. You made do with your phone, pinching your eyes to read through the case you'd been sent that morning.

You were so caught up in it, that you didn't notice a deep voice calling your last name until he was right in front of you. A pair of soft brown eyes was looking at you, with a nice looking face to match. "Shoulder that needs resetting, that's you right?" He asked. "Sure, yes, sorry!" You apologised. "I got caught up in work, barely notice anything around me when I get into it." The doctor laughed softly at you and gestured towards an open bed. "You take a seat, I'm going to get a medical student and then we'll get about putting your shoulder back in the right way." You nodded and shuffled yourself on the bed awkwardly, trying not to make wild moves and make your arm worse.

The doctor came back with a petite girl who was smiling sweetly at you, but you could see the fear in her eyes. "Right," the bearded doctor said, "I'm Dr. Robinavitch, this is Dr. Javadi, our med student. She put a hip back in place last week, so she'll be trying your arm this time, this being a teaching hospital and all. I'm just here for support." Javadi cleared her throat and looked at the chart. "You've been given pain medication when you came in, correct?" You nodded and smiled at the girl. She was radiating anxiety and you could see her swallowing her fear. "It says here you were trailing with the police when someone knocked you down, is that correct." You nodded again. "And you work as a prosecutor here in Pittsburgh?" You sighed, "Yup, I got myself into this mess trying to get some hands-on experience." Dr. Robinavitch smirked from behind his med student. "Guess you're not trying that again anytime soon?" You laughed, wincing slightly as you moved your arm. "I'll be sticking to court for the next while, I think."

You smiled back at the doctor while Javadi prodded around your shoulder softly. His brown eyes focused on the student's hands, giving soft directions on what she should feel for. You were enjoying yourself, spending some time looking at him. Smart, ambitious men had always been your type. Bonus points if they looked cute. You startled and gave a small moan when Javadi prodded a particularly tender part of your shoulder, and she jumped back in worry.

You tried to make light of the situation to take some of the stress away. "Don't worry, Dr. Javadi, if you hurt me I'll only prosecute you for injuring a public official." You smiled up at her and saw that your joke did not have the desired effect. All the blood had left Javadi's face.

Dr. Robinavitch cleared his throat and Javadi turned to face him. "Go get the type of sling she'll need, take a breath, then you'll put it back." Javadi nodded and rushed off. "Sorry," Dr. Robinavitch said, "teaching hospital means teaching moments sometimes." You smiled up at him. "That's alright, Dr. Robinavitch, that's how we all were, those first years on the job. I called a judge mom in my first month, was about to quit then and there. Glad I stuck to it though." He laughed. "Dr. Robby." You raised your eyebrow. "What?" "It's Dr. Robby. At least for people who tell me their embarrassing stories within ten minutes of meeting me." You smiled at him and tasted the name on your lips. "Dr. Robby it is." You could swear you saw his ears go slightly red.

Robby tried to focus on something that wasn't your face because he could feel his ears turning red. Unfortunately for him, that was the moment the remains of your jacket slid of your shoulder, and he was staring at your collarbones beneath the spaghetti straps of you tanktop. Great, now his whole face would be turning red. You shivered and tried to grab your jacket from the floor, pulling a face as you twisted your shoulder. Robby reached forward on instinct and gently guided you upright again. He zipped his hoodie down and draped it over your shoulders. "Here, take mine. Yours isn't worth much and I've got an extra in my locker." The smell of laundry, cologne and something manly hit you. You liked it. "Thanks, I'll give it back before I leave." You said, smiling up at him once more.

Dana caught Javadi rushing back from the supply closet. She startled again and looked towards the charge nurse expectantly. "You just stay here for a minute longer, darling." Collins stopped next to Dana, both looking towards your bed, where Dr. Robby had rolled his chair slightly more towards you. "Do my eyes deceive me..." Collins started. "Or is Cap flirting with that poor girl?" Dana finished. "I think you're right. He's actually smiling at her. Oh look, she's flirting back, putting her hand on his arm. Poor sad boy, he's turning bright red. And my god, is that his hoodie that she's wearing?"

Javadi came back and set your shoulder expertly, earning her a nod from Dr. Robby and many thanks from you. You were sorry when they were called into an incoming trauma, leaving a nurse with you to discharge you. You tried to hang around for a while, but soon came to the realisation that they needed the bed. You hung near the desk for another ten minutes, hoping that Dr. Robby would emerge from the trauma room soon.

"You waiting for Robby?" A blond woman stood next to you, sipping a cup of coffee. "Yeah, just wanted to give him my thanks." The woman pulled up an eyebrow. "I thought Javadi treated you?" You sighed. "You caught me. Just wanted to ask Dr. Robby some questions." "Questions about what? Anything to do with that hoodie you're wearing?" Dana took a sip and stared at you. "Well, I guess straight forward is your way, ma'am. I appreciate that, 'cause it's my way as well. I have two questions mainly. If he's single, and if yes, if he's free for a date somewhere this week. I have a nice bottle of wine that needs opening but I can't really make it work with this arm." You pointed at your sling. The nurse smiled back at you. "I think a bottle of wine is just what that man needs. Can't help you with his schedule, I'm no personal assistant, but I can give you his cell number if that's of any help?" She winked at you. "Just tell him Dana gave the number, cause he's too much of a chicken to have done it himself. And tell him I like you and your straightforward ways." You flashed a bright smile at her. "Will do Dana, thank you. I'll tell him you're the best wingwoman I've ever met."

You were still wearing Dr. Robby's hoodie when left the Pitt, clutching a post-it with his phone number in your good hand.

[booksandteaandtears]

When the Bleak Midwinter has passed - MASTERLIST

Tommy Shelby x original female character

After Tommy loses his brother John, he is swamped with work and worries. A lost love reemerges into his life. Will she bring him peace, or is that not meant to be for Tommy?

trigger warnings: mentions of rape, abuse, war, trauma, psychogical problems, drug abuse, addiction, suicide, childloss, pregnancy.

chapters

chapter 1

chapter 2

chapter 3

chapter 4

chapter 5

chapter 6: coming soon

inspiration

Tommy's playlist

Tommy x Anna playlist

notes - updates will be a little irregular as I'm trying to get my degree! bear with me

[booksandteaandtears]

got a new chapter out! please read and show some love