I be living for the x reader fanfic until the reader is this insecure fragile little thing that compares themselves to everyone and hates themself. like no shade at alllll but I simply cannot relate to that reality. I am the best thing to ever happen to this earth and anyone who dates me knows it's a god damn privilege. like I really am my favorite person and i'm not sorry about it I am 110000000% full of myself. my ego is huge and it should be because i'm the best bitch alive tbh
like I just want some x reader content where the reader is cocky and confident and arrogant and prideful sorry. I don't think humility and hating yourself is a virtue. u aren't better than anyone else because u don't know how to take a compliment 💔
I think we can all agree she’s not great at being a good mom, but you know what really gets my goat about Doctor Shamsi? She’s fucking unprofessional. Like, I know Javadi’s your daughter, but you’re not at home, you’re at work. It’s so wildly inappropriate for you to keep coming down to the emergency department to tell another doctor what you think she should be doing with her life, or how bad you think she is at her job.
when the fic tags got a wild combination like "near death experience, extreme angst, coming untouched, anal fingering" I just know i'm bout to read the best fic of the century. bonus points if it's a one shot
if anybody with PTSD sees this and it's genuinely inaccurate, please tell me to go fuck myself and go fix it. thank you. I love y'all.
platonic!rabbot but it's up to your interpretation
He remembers the conversation he had with Caleb like it was yesterday. The one (repeated) comment he made about Orlando Diaz not finding a high enough ledge to jump from was enough for the attending to pull him away before he left and give him a very long talking-to, to put it lightly.
"In all my god knows how many years of doing this, never once have I seen a family, friend, or community be better off after somebody they've cared about decided to end their life. Even if the last conversation they had was an argument, even if the last words they shared were mean and nasty. They don't want to see you at your funeral."
He left him with that and a promise to sleep on his advice. To start taking shit more seriously. To stop pushing away every therapist his sends his way just because they become too understanding. To not go on that sabbatical to some nowhere place in Canada, but to still take a break. An actual one.
To call him in the morning to start talking about a treatment plan. The aforementioned seriousness that Robby has been avoiding. The admission that he needs help and support. The final step in shattering the lie that he's told himself for 6 years - that he can handle this, he's fine.
The worst part of it though, is that he pulled Jack into it. Not like Jack has ever been out of it. Jack knows just how well Robby is not doing, he's known for a long time. Pulling him back from the PTMC roof once was enough to get him to understand. His eye has always been trained on him. But now, they live together, temporarily. It wasn't safe for Robby to be alone, he claimed. Not just for the obvious reason, but because it's suffocating to be so utterly isolated all the time. He needs community. Jack understood and was happy to have the company. And Dennis was going to look after his place anyways.
It's a month into sleeping, eating, and existing together in the same space. Jack still goes to work, tells him how everybody is doing, tells him about the stupidest patients that come through the ER, and even sometimes sends warm wishes from Dana who hopes he's doing okay. She's the only other person who knows what's really going on anyway.
It's also been a month into Robby going to therapy consistently and slowly being introduced to medication. Been a month into him trying to do better, even if it's been hell every step of the way. All of that effort, though, seems to be crashing down today.
The worst part of the plan Caleb wrote up for him was EMDR, or Eye Movement Desensitization and Reprocessing, sessions. It's intended to help individuals with PTSD and/or a history of trauma. This is only the second time he's gone to the clinic that does it, but it was the first time they nose-dived into treatment. And it did not go well.
It was too triggering. Too much came out of the woodwork. Which, he supposes, is the point. But he wasn't ready. The drive home was blurry. Fuzzy. Whether that be because of the literal tears in his eyes or not.
The moment he stepped into Jack's apartment, it all came crashing down. It was like his body knew not to go completely postal until he was safe. He can't even remember most of what happened. But he remembers being there. And that's how he ended up on the floor of Jack's guest bedroom, staring into the ceiling and shaking.
∆
Never has Jack been so relieved to be driving home. Well, that's most likely a lie. But today has drained him to his bones, his leg aches, and he's exhausted.
The drive was quiet. Pittsburgh was waking up just as he was about to crash onto his bed. He felt each knot of tension in his body slowly unravel as he pushed his key into the locks of his front door and pushed it open.
Unfortunately for him, it all rushed back in less than a second.
The decorative bowl he got as a gift from a family years ago that has sat on his coffee table since then is in pieces on the floor, and the curtains on the far window of the living room were decidedly not hung up anymore.
"Mike?!", he yelled as he dropped his bag in the entryway. The first thought on his mind was a break in, and the place was concerningly silent.
"Mike? Where are you?"
He glanced into every room until he got to the end of the hallway, where his guest bedroom was. The view that greeted him brought him no comfort.
His 6'1, usually formidable best friend looked small curled into the corner. Eyes wide and unfocused, facing the ceiling. Hands clenched and tucked into his sides. Breathing erratic and filled with fear.
He immediately backed down, softening his body language and lowering his voice. "Mike?". He approached like he was meeting a small animal that was ready to flee at any moment. He crouched down to his level and put a hand on his knee, but the immediate flinch from his fellow attending made him drop it and settle down a few inches away from him. "Hey. Talk to me, what's going on."
Robby scrunched his eyes closed and shook his head. It took a handful of seconds of this before he finally got the words out. "It's like he's in my head."
Jack immediately focused up. He knows exactly what's going on. "Hey hey, look at me."
He did, much to his surprise. His eyes were bloodshot and full of fear, but he was there.
"I'm not a hundred percent on where you are right now, but you're not there. You're in my apartment, on..", he pulled his phone out and checked the date and time, "August 6, 2026 at 7:49 pm. You're on the floor of my guest bedroom and you're talking to me." He took a chance, scooted closer, and took both of his knees in hand this time. "It's okay."
He looked like he wanted to believe him so badly and it hurt to see. He's been in this position. He knows how fucking helpless you feel.
He started to even out his breaths. In through his nose, out through his mouth. Trying to silently communicate the coping method everybody on this planet has been taught. Trying to get him off of the ledge. He even went a step further, forcing his gaze into Robby's head and grasping his forearm. Grounding. Intense in a way that isn't jarring but can't be ignored. "It's okay", he repeats.
They sit there like that for a while. Breathing in what was somewhat tandem. Waiting for Robby to come back down to Earth. Every moment he looks like he's going to panic again, every time his eyes screw shut, every time his breath hitches too intensely, Jack takes it the opportunity to shush him, almost like he's a child. But it works. And it gets him to quiet down and focus again. That is, until he breaks the silence with a breathless, strained confession, "I knew it was a bad fucking idea."
"What was?"
"This bullshit, Caleb-", he trips over his words, still not fully composed, "Caleb talked about this whole exposure therapy shit and I knew it was a bad idea."
So that's what started this. The therapy session. He starts rubbing his knee with one of his thumbs, still trying to ground. "You did the PTSD treatment stuff today?"
He nodded, looking more pissed than sad now. A good sign, if you ask Jack.
"Not an easy one.", he says quietly and looks down into his lap.
They sit in silence again. Giving Robby more time. He notices the moment he's back because his gaze tears away and turns to the door as he says, "I broke your...stupid bowl, didn't I"
He laughs softly, "Thanks for the apology."
He looks like he immediately regrets the statement and turns back to him abruptly. But Jack interrupts him before he can say anything self-depricating. "It's fine, man. It's fine. That was about to crack under the weight of its age anyways. Those curtains though..."
Robby groans and leans his head against the wall, looking close to tears again. "I'm really fucking sorry", he whispers.
"It's okay", he drags out the last syllable, "I'm just messing with you."
"I just-", he sighs with his whole upper body, "I felt like I was standing there. Like I was there. I had to get out and I just thought that if I pushed hard enough, it would all fall away. That all the walls would collapse if I pounded on them enough."
Jack can figure it was the hospital, knee-deep in quarantine and incredibly easy to drown in. "I get it. I've felt it. I'm not mad."
Robby looks back at him.
Jack meets him with a smile. "You hungry?"
"Not at all. I'm surprised I didn't vomit."
He chuckles, "Well, I am. I'll make a little extra just in case you change your mind."
He nods and as Jack gets up, it looks like he reaches for him before changing his mind.
He stops. "What?"
"... Thank you."
"You're very welcome."
Robby slaps a hand on his shoulder hesitantly and pulls him into a hug. Embracing the man who's saved him more times than he can count. And probably more he won't be able to in the future.
Every time Robby or Abbot have any interaction with a woman that could be interpreted as flirting the camera cuts to the other like it's a law in the universe. Which could mean nothing
Content Warnings: E, smut, sex toys, oral (m receiving), prostate massage, anal fingering, soft!dom Jack, needy sub!top Robby, daddy kink, married rabbot
Summary: wrote this in response to this anon request! I hope it did it justice for you. Please let me know what you think, anon.
Things were tense for Jack this week, he and Robby had only seen each other in passing between shifts for 4 extremely long days in a row. Needless to say Jack was feeling needy for his husband. He knew Robby was feeling the same. Needy and just shy of desperate. They almost got carried away in the locker room at handoff, they’re tongues in each others mouths beginning to drown out the constant chaos just outside the door. The harsh knock knock knock—followed by “Dr. Robby?” Pulled them both back to reality as they reluctantly pulled away.
“Later.” Jack whispered against Robby’s mouth. “Have a good shift, brother.” He squeezed Robby’s ass before finally letting go and shuffling out the door to go home.
*
Jack had something different in mind planned for tonight. They finally had 3 days off together to look forward to and Jack wanted to start it off right. When Robby finally gets off shift Jack is hoping he is just as ready and willing as he was this morning in the locker room. It didn’t take long for him to find out.
Robby came home to Jack on the couch, shirtless, clad in only the tight gray sweatpants he knows Robby loves and nothing else. Without hesitation or any direction from Jack, Robby walked into the living room and sunk to his knees on the carpet right in between Jacks open legs. Jack didn’t bother to wear his prosthetic at home, and Robby never missed a chance to massage Jack’s sore muscles. He loves caring for Jack like this. He laid his head on Jacks sturdy thigh and starts breathing deeply as his strong fingers worked their way into Jack’s tight muscle. It’s the calmest and safest he’s felt all day. He’s been half hard and wanting since their little rendezvous this morning, his body is itching to submit. He needs to give into Jack and not think. To let go of the responsibility he had been carrying all week. On the other hand, Jack was just as needy but for control. The ED never failed to remind him how little control he has over the chaos. The only real control Jack has comes with caring for Robby. He needs this just as badly as Robby does.
Robby began to rub his face into Jack’s thigh, inhaling his scent. Jack had been hard since Robby walked in, almost unbearably so since Robby’s knees hit the floor on his own accord.
Jack finally speaks.
“Hi baby, look at you kneeling so pretty for me already. Didn’t even need to give you direction did I? You’re such a good fucking boy, Robby. I couldn’t wait for you to get home. You’re so perfect for me.”
Robby practically purred at Jack’s praise. He knows it’s a little pathetic but he couldn’t care less right now. In fact, it’s sort of part of the appeal. He can be pathetic and whiny and needy. He will never be too much for Jack.
“We’re gonna try something new tonight” Jack speaks to Robby softly, as he plays with the hair on the back of Robby’s neck.
“I know you want me to take care of you. And I will. But first, daddy needs you to help me with something.”
Robby shivered at the casual way ‘daddy’ just dripped off of Jack’s tongue. Like he was made for it.
“Anythinggg,” Robby mumbles, he’s beginning to slur already. It never takes much. That’s part of the thrill for Jack, how easily the brilliant Dr. Michael Robinavitch, Chief Attending of the PTMC ED, drops to his knees for him and only him.
“I’m all pent up baby, I need to feel it. I need it as good as you can give it, Mike.”
Robby moaned. His hands immediately flying to Jacks waistband. It was easy to get to his already leaking cock considering he wasn’t wearing any underwear. Robby moaned again at this little discovery, taking Jack into his mouth immediately, he couldn’t help himself, he needed to gag on it so badly. Needed to feel it in the back of his throat. Needed to be used and fucked stupid. It was the only means of escape for Robby and he craved it more than he would care to admit to anyone. It was a need so great, he often found himself irritating Jack on purpose just to get a reaction. To get him to take control. The more control Robby gives over to Jack, the better he feels. He would spend forever on his knees for Jack if he asked him to. He was Jack’s, body and soul. Robby knew the kind of vulnerability he was exposing here, it wasn’t something just anyone could handle. He had a lot of baggage. But Robby had no second thoughts when it came to Jack. He trusted Jack more than he trusted anyone, including himself.
“Fuck—that’s my good fucking boy. God Mike, that mouth is incredible. Sucking me in just right. That throat was made to suffocate around my cock wasn’t it, baby.”
Robby’s own cock jumped at Jack’s words. He hadn’t even thought about his own needs at this point. He was right where he wanted to be. Giving his daddy, his lover, his husband his, soulmate, the most pleasure he could possibly give him. He was no longer in control of himself or his body. Jack was.
“I prepped myself for you, baby. And before I fuck you, I need you to make me come using this.”
Robby whined as Jack grabbed him by the hair, pulled him off his cock and handed him the prostate massager. Toys are a regular part of their sex life. They’re not naive enough to think they don’t sometimes need help getting everything to “work” properly when it comes to sex. It’s not for a lack of arousal, just an effect of getting older. Robby hadn’t even registered the toy on coffee table when he came in. He’s usually much more attentive to detail, but Jack had that effect on him.
Robby was getting closer and closer to subspace as he followed Jack’s orders and focused slowly on just making him feel good. He is nearing the precipice and the build up is almost just as heavenly the thing itself. Robby knows this feeling, he craves it, aches for it. Good thing Jack’s massive skill set includes taking Robby apart.
Jack pulled his knees up, unashamed in the way he was on display. His hole was shiny and dripping with lube, Robby couldn’t help but slip two fingers inside to feel him.
Jack moaned as his husband’s thick fingers worked their way inside him. He’s been topping Robby a lot lately but sometimes he just needs his prostate milked and a good fuck from his husband’s huge cock. As much as Robby loves to be filled and railed by his daddy, he also can’t deny the incredible heat of Jack’s delicious hole when it surrounds his him so beautifully. The first time he topped Jack, he came the second he was fully sheathed in his tight heat. Hence the massager. Robby has come a long way since then, but still finds it difficult in his old age to last for than a few minutes once he’s inside Jack.
Jack always talks him through it, despite the one being fucked, he’s quick to remind Robby who’s really in control here.
“Love those fingers baby. But need more.” Jack squeezes around Robby’s fingers and holds in a whimper once Robby pulls them out.
Robby picks up the black silicone massager and gently pushes it inside Jack. He groans immediately at the stretch, nothing he can’t handle, pitiful in comparison to Robby’s girth, but it’s still…been a while.
Robby pushes the toy all the way in until it fits snugly against Jack’s prostate and turns it on. Jack practically jumps out of his skin at the onslaught of pleasure the toy gives him.
“Good boy, you’re making daddy feel so so good.” Jack manages to say between grunts. Without warning, Robby engulfs Jack rock hard cock as far as he can into his throat and pushes the massager in at the same time.
The unexpected wet heat on his cock and pressure in his ass makes Jack shoot off immediately into Robby’s eager mouth. The sound that escapes from his lips is obscene as he convulses with each vibration and spurt of come that pulses from his tip. Jack has never experienced the kind of ecstasy he experiences when he’s with Robby. It’s the greatest pleasure he’s ever known.
“Holy. fucking. shit. baby.” Jack manages to squeak out between breaths. “Mmm…daddy.” Robby smiles sweetly and just goes back to resting his head on Jack’s thigh, eyes glassy. He’s far gone now. Jack hates to move him but he needs to get up and take care of Robby before he’s too far gone. This was supposed to be about him after all. But leave it to Robby to manage to still completely surprise Jack after all these years.
Jack manages to slip the toy out and flip Robby on to his back. “We’re not done yet, baby.” Jack makes Robby come twice by riding his cock after that. Robby just takes it in pure bliss, his mind finally free from anything that’s not Jack Abbot.
They both limp into work a few days later, but no one mentions it. Dana gives them both a once over as they make their way to the hub, Jack has to work a double. They walk hand and hand, both a little stiff.
“Good weekend, boys?” Dana asks, eyebrows raised. Jack beams and squeezes Robby’s hand. Robby flushes and cannot make eye contact. A good weekend indeed.
Thinking about a scenario where Robby tells Jack, conspicuously nonchalant about it and without making eye contact, that he's got a Grindr profile almost set up but feels ridiculous trying to pick out profile pics. He doesn't take pictures, let alone of himself. "You're on Grindr. Any tips?"
Jack takes in the information and tries to convey an equal level of manufactured coolness, even though his mind is racing bc since when does Robby go for guys? What he says, before he can think through the implications, is, "I can take some pictures for you. Low frills." Adding, "Nothing to stress about," when Robby's jaw twitches.
Which is how they find themselves in Robby's bedroom, Robby stripped down to his boxer briefs, an attractive flush running from his face down his chest. They'd already taken a few fully dressed pics on Robby's balcony, "But you've gotta give a little more, brother," Jack had said, and now here they are. Robby, with his long legs and thick, meaty waist on display. His nipples are tight and peaked, one with a distracting barbell piercing through it. But most of Jack's energy is directed at working really fucking hard to avoid staring at the impressive bulge in Robby's underwear.
Robby's shifting awkwardly, the opposite of the vibe he's going for, so Jack suggests, "Just---relax. Get out of your head. Look toward me and think about someone you really want to fuck. Only that person. Imagine they're watching you, and want you, too."
"That's---this is ridiculous." Robby's flush deepens.
"Please," Jack says, rolling his eyes. "I've seen you turn on the charm on every floor of the hospital. Look at me like you want to fuck me. One picture is all you need."
Robby swallows and tucks his thumbs in the waistband of his underwear. "Yeah, okay," he says, and his whole expression shifts. His lips are slightly parted, chin up, and his eyes are molten. Robby looks like he wants to devour Jack.
Jack ignores his racing heart and the blood threatening to rush south, and takes a few quick pictures with Robby’s phone, praying to a god he's long abandoned that he's not giving himself away. When he's done, he looks down at his phone to collect himself and swipes through the pics. "These look good," he says, clearing his throat when his voice catches.
“That wasn’t too bad,” Robby says. “Do I have to be prepared to start sending dick pics, though?”
“Depends,” Jack answers, and his voice sounds so fucking rough, but now he’s definitely thinking about Robby’s dick. “You looking to top or…?” He shrugs and waves his hands vaguely. Jack has no problem talking about sex, but being in Robby’s bedroom, taking pictures of Robby in his underwear so Robby can get laid by someone else, is making him a little dizzy.
“Let’s go with ‘or.’” Robby says, meeting Jack’s eyes almost defiantly, as if Robby’s desire to bottom isn’t rewiring Jack’s neural pathways and demolishing any chance he had at hiding his arousal.
“Then, no,” Jack chokes out. “Guys aren’t gonna be asking for dick pics.”
Robby turns as red as he’s been all day. “I wouldn’t know how— how would I even…” Robby says helplessly.
“Someone could take ‘em for you.” Jack can barely hear his own voice over the rushing in his head and the shock that he had the balls to make the offer, ambiguous as it is.
Robby doesn’t say anything, and the air in the room grows weighted as Jack—rooted in place—lets Robby silently assess him. Robby’s eyes dart down Jack’s body, and Jack has to resist the instinct to glance down himself, to see if there’s evidence of his growing erection through his gym shorts. He doesn’t, though. And he doesn’t give in to his urge to make a joke and laugh the whole thing off. Which is good, because suddenly Robby has seen enough, and he says gruffly, “Yeah. Okay. How do you want me?”
It takes Jack a second to process Robby’s question, and then he’s nodding at the bed. “On your stomach, and lose the underwear.”
I’m a doctor, Jack thinks. I’ve seen thousands of naked bodies. Disconnect. Disconnect. Disconnect.
But then Robby’s lying on the bed, arms wrapped around the pillow his head is resting on, one long leg running down the bed, the other with a knee bent, splayed wide. Robby’s ass—thick and full—is on display, along with his heavy balls and hardening cock..
“Like this?” Robby asks, looking over his shoulder, all of his modesty seemingly gone.
“I—yeah. That’s—yes,” Jack says dumbly, staring at Robby openly, too turned on to remember he’s supposed to be taking pictures until Robby coughs and raises his eyebrows.
“Right.” Jack licks his lips and lifts his phone, taking pictures from a few different angles while Robby poses patiently. Jack’s cock is straining in his boxer briefs, and he’s grateful Robby’s not watching, because he has to palm himself for just a bit of relief. Robby looks so fucking good lying on the bed, and Jack is only human.
He lets Robby know when he’s done, expecting Robby to laugh and make a joke about sending these pics to randos on the app before kicking him out, leaving Jack to head home and get off, jealously, to the memory of what Robby looked like. But Robby stays in place and looks over his shoulder at Jack again.
“Think anyone’ll wanna see more?” He asks, holding Jack’s eyes, that heated look returning.
Jack is afraid to speak, so he nods slowly, and watches Robby reach a hand back to his ass and pull his cheek to the side, exposing his tight, furled hole. Moving to the bed, Jack rests his right knee on the mattress and nudges Robby’s leg wider, eyes fixed on Robby’s hole as he does.
“Like that,” Jack says, so quietly he’s not even sure Robby heard him. His heart is pounding, and his shorts are tented obscenely. He knows he’s supposed to be doing something, but all he can do is look.
“You gonna take some pictures, Jack?” Robby asks roughly. His cock is hard and leaking, a wet spot growing on the sheet between his legs.
Jack drags his eyes away from Robby’s hole and meets Robby’s gaze. He can’t stomach the thought of anyone else seeing Robby like this. “No.”
Robby’s quiet for a beat before he asks, “Then what are you gonna do?”
Crawling on the bed between Robby’s legs, Jack replaces Robby’s hand with his own, exposing him. With his free hand, he draws his thumb over Robby’s hole, tugging, and bites back a moan at the way Robby’s rim twitches under the attention.
“I’m going to make sure you never think of that fucking app again.”
i'll never forget the iconic moment jack abbot walks into the pitt during the season 1 mass casualty event and our restrained protagonist dr robby calls him brother and hugs him, instantly making clear that this character who we've barely seen at all has a completely unique status in the show because a. he is the only person who robby sees as his equal b. has a private bond with robby that he can rely on and c. he's about to take charge of this situation and we should completely trust his authority. wow writers you really nailed it within 10 seconds
i'm so upset. I just wanna read a fic where Jack dicks Robby down so good that he starts crying. is that too much to ask. I know Jack can fuck the depression out of that man I JUST KNOW IT. someone please grant my wish
"langdon sucks" "santos sucks" "langdon is an asshole" "santos is an asshole"
guys. my friends. my compadres. hear me and hear me well. they are both assholes that suck. they are also both kind and competent people underneath it all.
langdon and santos are narrative foils. they bring out the worst in each other. it is literally the entire god damn point. please cease this bickering, it's bad for the baby (jane doe)
very much at a stage in my life where if you tell me some person has a callout doc i'm going to assume an organized harassment campaign *before* i'll assume any of the evidence in it is real
I do not care for this sentiment that Garcia is "evil" for telling Santos to handle her grievances directly with Langdon and/or with a professional.
Garcia shouldn't have to side with anyone because there shouldn't be sides to pick at work. I'd argue that the worst thing she did was reprimand Santos in front of the patient. It was unprofessional of her, even if she was doing it to get Santos to stop sniping in front of the patient. Like. That man was conscious and scared. He did not need to hear snide comments about the doctor in charge of his care or the junior resident.
I have a lot of sympathy for Santos, but that doesn't mean that everyone is doing her dirty. Langdon hasn't been unfair to her in any of the cases they've had together except maybe over-teaching because he's ten months behind on what she knows. Garcia isn't being unfair by refusing to mediate a conflict that has nothing to do with her. Al Hashimi (while aggressive about it) wasn't wrong to tell her that missing charting is a serious issue that could cause problems with her education.
If I blame anyone, I'll blame Robby because he should've been supporting her on all these things that are now falling apart over the course of the day. He should've noticed the issue with the charts before it got to this point. He should've made it clear what the process would be after she turned Langdon in, and what her options were.
And even still! Sometimes a bad day is still just reaping what you sowed. Is she a pariah because she turned Langdon in or because she ignores Mel and uses Victoria as a connection to Dr. Shamsi? Is she being inadequately supported, or is she allergic to asking for help because she wants to look like a superhero? Many things can be true, and she's a deeply sympathetic character regardless, but like. None of her coworkers are straight up villains. She's speed-running gifted-kid burnout and some of it is her fault.
I hope before this season is done she gets to make Garcia jealous and yell at Langdon in a way that's spiritually satisfying, but that doesn't mean any of them are "evil."
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