My name is Ali, and I'm 23 years old My pronouns are they/he/she Multi fandom Header by @lorbalith on Instagram💕 My masterlist REQUESTS OPEN FOR THE PITT & ER (1994)
Yes, you've read it right. From now on, I'll be writing for The Pitt & ER (1994) full time (until another fandom catches my eye and coexists with this one, or I get tired of this)🥰
Requests rules are as follows:
- No racism, homophobia, transphobia or hate of any kind, you will be swiftly blocked. I don't play games with this.
- Behave like normal people and keep in mind i am a human being with feelings too so please be nice when requesting
Characters I will be writing for:
• Michael "Robby" Robinavitch x Reader
• Jack Abbot x Reader
• Dennis Whitaker x Reader
• Rabbot
• Rabbot x reader
• Trinity Santos x reader (only fem!reader)
• John Truman Carter III x reader
• If you want another pairing or character, don't hesitate to request and we can see what can be done 😊
Thank you so very much for your understanding and support!
Hello, my sweethearts! I'm back after taking a few days of rest (real life is taking a toll on me lmao) but I was thinking of going back to writing. I love this fandom too much (when it's not being weird).
So I thought about doing a poll to see what I could write for next!
My next writing (all x reader)
Professor!Robby (and Professor!Jack if I'm feeling generous :P)
You Are My Dad; You're My Dad! Boogie Woogie Woogie
tags: smau, trinity santos x fem!reader x dennis whitaker, dennis and trinity are NOT ROMANTICALLY TOGETHER, they just share an apartment and girlfriend 😋, robby is his own warning, reader is in her early 20s
notes: this does include an instagram post at the end; so, don't miss it! and please let me know if you'd like to be added to the taglist for this!
y/n.ra has followed trinity.santos
y/n.ra has followed den.whitacker
y/n.ra posted Sunday, June 15, 2025
liked by d.evans, mikerobinavitch, dr.abbot, and 317 others
y/n.ra so grateful they both failed their first and only foster! happy dad's day to my dads 🫶
view more comments
d.evans They definitely needed you! So glad they failed at something!
*liked by y/n.ra
y/n.ra me too! I've been humbling doctors since 2003 😌
mikerobinavitch love you lots, sweetie! thank you for making us dads!
y/n.ra so what I'm seeing is I need to be celebrated instead of you....
mikerobinavitch not like we celebrate you on the daily....
y/n.ra LOVE YOU LOTS
dr.abbot ig I can't be perfect at everything 💔 thanks for pointing it out kiddo
y/n.ra but of course! we still on for pickleball next week? I'm about to show you something else you're not perfect at 😈
dr.abbot bring it on
mat.diaz happy dad's day, uncs! thanks for keeping my best friend!
general info : willow, 25, they/them, italian
fandoms : er, the mentalist, the pitt, animal kingdom, sons of anarchy, scrubs, the newsroom, x-files, monk, amc's iwtv, horror movies, vampire media, lord of the rings
blog : writing blog for the pitt (more specifically robby)
requests : OPEN
will write for : dr. michael robinavitch, dr. jack abbot, patrick jane, jax teller,rabbot (the pitt), any the pitt character
DO NOT INTERACT : racists, xenophobes, magas, tr*mp or any supporter of any right wing government, nazis, genocide apologists (of any genocides), homophobes, transphobes
divider by : @justrainandcoffee
MICHAEL ROBINAVITCH
- say yes to heaven (smut)
- bad girls (do it better) (smut)
- robby oneshot (smut)
- the buddy system (au) : chapter 1 ||
-vampire robby x reader fics : taglist || love story (fluff and smut) ||
- in the summertime (fluff and smut)
-"can you watch him for me?" (fluff oneshot)
-my moon, my man (smut)
ANDREW 'POPE' CODY
-honey (smut oneshot)
-good boy (smut oneshot)
RABBOT
-rabbot "Arrival" (2016, dir. Denis Villeneuve) au : drabble ||
plot summary: you want to try something new in the bedroom with robby, and while wary, at first, the payoff shows itself to be valuable.
a/n: based on this post by @burgundysnow, hope you like it ! i had sm fun writing it, hope you enjoy :3 I DO NOT CONSENT TO THIS BEING TRANSLATED, POSTED OR REPOSTED OR FED INTO AI IN ANY WAY WHATSOEVER. likes, reblogs and comments are always appreciated :3
tags: explicit establishment of consent, safeword and a stoplight system, usage of the stoplight system, loving husband robby, gentle dom robby, reader is afab and is referred to as having afab genitalia, medical roleplay, medical inaccuracies, fingering with gloves on, robby eating it from the back, SAFE choking with a stethoscope, safe sex (WRAP IT BEFORE YOU TAP IT), consent checks, AFTERCARE (also always very important). this should be all :3, please let me know if i missed anything !
w/c: 3.3k
divider credit : @lobster-graphics
You were both laying in bed when you proposed it to him. He looked at you twice, still laying down with your head laying gently on his chest, the colder, evening summer breeze softly making the curtains sway. He laughed, looking away and out the window towards the setting sun, then back down again.
"You really want to try it? Are you absolutely, 100% sure you want to try it?" he asked, incredulous.
You nodded, shrugging. "Why not? I mean, yeah I understand the risks, and, I trust you," you continued, rolling over until your chest was flush against his, your eyes glinting under the dimming light. "So, yeah. I do want to try it."
His big, brown eyes stared right into yours, one of his big, calloused hands lifting, moving towards the curve of your spine and dragging a finger gently up and down, enough to make you shiver in delight. He smiled, a smile you had come to recognize as genuine, and his eyes sparkled, a constellation moving inside of them.
"Stoplight system fine for you?"
You nodded eagerly, stealing his readers and putting them on your nose, and lifting your left index finger. "Red is for a complete stop, Yellow is for a temporary stop, and Green," you stopped yourself, giggling so hard he started to laugh, too, his big chest moving your body, "green is the go ahead."
He continued laughing, taking advantage of your giggles to kiss your temple lovingly, grabbing his glasses and folding them, putting them neatly back on top of the stack of books that always laid there. "Good girl. You'll tell me if I hurt you, yeah ?"
"Three taps on your arm if I can't talk and the safeword is 'rainbows' if I can."
He nodded, burying his face in your hair, inhaling deeply.
"That's good. I love you so much, thank you for trusting me with this."
You sighed tiredly. "You know I trust you with my life, Mikey."
He nodded, yawning. "Yeah. So, when do you think you want to do this?"
You hummed non commitedly. "You have a week off, right? I think it may happen then, is it okay if I say something to let you know when I'm ready?"
He nodded. "Sure, like what?"
"What about … 'I'm here to see Dr. Robinavitch', is that okay?"
"Okay. And if you decide you don't want to anymore, that's fine. But I'll make sure my scrubs and everything else are ready, if you do."
You nodded, your eyes closing against your will, draping yourself against your husband's torso.. "Mkay, night night Mikey."
"Good night, sweetheart," he reply, making sure to keep you steady by wrapping an arm behind your back. "Sweet dreams."
You spent a lot of your free time thinking about whether you wanted to start the scene with Robby; it wasn't that you hadn't wanted to, not at all, but it you also realized that in the long run, if you had just jumped right into it it wouldn't have felt right.
Which is why, on a late Wednesday afternoon after a long and thorough shower, you decided to dress yourself in the prettiest lingerie you owned (gifted by him, of course),and a simple black nightshirt with pink hearts on it with a matching pair of socks, your feet travelling through your big house, down the hall towards his study. You knocked three times on the door, waiting for him to reply.
"It's open, sweetheart, come on in."
You opened the door so as to have it slightly ajar enough to peek your head through the opening, smiling as you saw the state the room was in; he was seated on the plush chair, glasses perched on the bridge of his nose, eyes and mind immersed on the medical reports in front of him, journals and notebooks scattered on the spacious mahogany desk. He looked up for a second as he heard you come in, he looked up towards the door, smiling.
"Everything okay?"
You nodded, suddenly interested on the floor as you moved your foot back and forth. You didn't look up when you heard the chair squeak gently against the floor as he got up, only doing so when you heard his gentle footsteps stopping in front of you, his hand gently intertwining with yours.
"There you are, sweetheart," Robby said quietly. "Are you okay?"
You nodded, biting your lip for a second, eyes darting around the room, taking a deep breath to steady yourself, looking up at Robby and seeing the eyes of the man you love, glittering with mirth and concern in equal measure. "I'm here to see Dr. Robinavitch."
He grinned. "Are you 100% sure, baby?"
You nodded. "Yeah, I am."
"Green ?"
"The greenest," you reassured him, winking.
"Okay," he smiled, kissing you sweetly on the forehead. "Go lay down on the bed, I'll go change and then come to the bedroom."
You nodded, kissing him on the cheek and quickly walked towards the bedroom, laying down in your expensive, midnight blue cotton sheets with matching pillows, biding your time while looking at the pictures and paintings scattered across your bedroom. Both your degrees framed, front and centre on the wall, wedding day and honeymoon pictures, pictures with Jack and Dana and your colleagues at the newsroom, an assorted variety of pictures that spanned from both your chidlhoods to just a few years ago, a collage of holidays and memories of both good and bad days framed on the walls.
You had never been happier before you met him; and, thankfully, it was the same for him, too.
When your eyes landed on the door, after you heard the door creak and open, you smiled. The love of your life was in his scrubs, dark green undershirt, black scrub top and his usual camo pants, mismatched blue and white socks and his readers perched on his beautiful nose, stethoscope around his neck and holding a pen and a chart in his hand.
"Good morning ma'am," he started, walking up towards the bed in his confident yet quiet stride, "my name is Dr. Michael Robinavitch, but you can call me Dr. Robby."
You smiled, feeling your face flush. "Hello, Dr. Robby."
"So, what seems to be the issue here?"
You smiled, clearing your throat as you adjusted the hem of your night shirt. "I think i have some, uh, issues with my pelvic floor ? I wouldn't really know how to explain it, but it just feels very, uhm, tight ? And painful, at times?"
He nodded, keeping his eyes down on his chart as he scribbled on it. "What type of pain? Pressure, stabbing pain, pins and needles, lightning?"
You bit your lip, trying to explained it him. "More pressure than anything maybe?" you chuckled, fiddling with your fingers, "I'm sorry, I'm not a physician."
He smiled, lightly squeezing your hand with his. "It's okay, we will figure this out together." He started putting gloves on, the biggest glove size you noticed, feeling your mouth water and a wet patch forming on your lavender panties.
"Please plant your feet on the bed and lift your night shirt a little."
You did as he asked, looking at him in the eyes as he looked into your, a reassuring smile on his face, the hand now on your knee squeezing it in reassurance.
"Thank you, now, I will put both my hands on your hips, see if i can feel something wrong there." He explained as he took the desk chair and rolled towards the edge of the bed, doing exactly as described, your mind spinning as you saw that his big hands wrapped around the span of your hips.
"Mh, I don't feel anything wrong. Is it painful, during sex with your … ?"
"Husband, my - my husband, and no, he's a very attentive lover so he always made sure I was never in pain." You looked to the side, embarassed, "But, we did end up doing an … unusual, sex position, I guess you could say," you chuckled nervously, "and I've felt weird ever since."
He nodded, his lips pursed together in an attempt to suppress his laughter. "Okay, that explains it. There's absolutely no shame in it." He looked down at your panties, noticing the growing wet spot, and smiled. He looked up at you, and, very gently, pressed on your mound, making you gasp in pleasure.
"That felt good ?"
You nodded in response, moaning quietly as he pressed on it again.
He then moved a finger down, pressing gently on your clit first and your hole through your panties, making you moan louder. He added another finger, rubbing both up and down on the wet patch of fabric. "This doesn't hurt, right ?"
You nodded, moaning and grinding against his fingers. "So - mh, so good."
He nodded, continuing the up-and-down motion of his fingers. "Good. Color?"
"Green," you whined, "so green."
He smiled, nodded and stopped for a second to plant a hand firmly on your hip. "Okay, please lay your head down and let me know how this feels," he warned, smiling, as he pushed your panties to the side, plunging one gloved, long finger inside your winking hole, causing you to arch your back. He then moved his finger, first up and down, in and out then curling it, trying to find that sweet spot, grinning in victory as he found your G-spot, making you moan loudly.
"That's the spot."
He then added a second finger, the latex of his gloves adding to the pleasure he was giving you so reverently, scissoring you open and adjusting himself through his comfortable scrub pants, his cock twitching to life as the sound of your gushing pussy and the moans ricocheting through the walls of the room. When he looked up at you, face blissed out and eyes rolled in the back of your head, he stopped for a second, keeping his fingers inside you.
"Green ?"
"Really ?" you groaned in annoyance, "A consent check ?"
He simply nodded, arching his eyebrows up.
"Fine ! Green, just - just don't stop."
"As you wish, ma'am," and with that, he continued to finger you open, pressing his thumb against your clit, rubbing it in gentle circles, smiling when he felt you gush around his fingers. Once he felt your legs shake against the bed, he smiled, adding a third finger and rubbing mercilessly against your G-spot. "Come on, cum for me."
You immediately obeyed his words, the orgasm a tsunami washing over you.
He smiled, pressing a soft kiss to your clit only to pull away immediately after, holding out his dirty gloves towards your lips, only having to tap his three fingers once against your mouth before you opened your lips, licking all of your cum away from them, moaning at your sweet taste, eyes rolling into the back of your head has he started dragging his fingers up and down your tongue.
Once he was satisfied, pulling his hand away from your mouth, he snapped his gloves off, rolling the desk chair he was sitting on towards the waste bin in your bedroom, throwing them in there and getting another pair of gloves from the box in his desk after sanitizing his hands.
"Okay, ma'am, I would like to try something else now." He started, surprisingly still in character.
You nodded, waiting eagerly for the next instruction.
"Would you mind getting on your hands and knees, with your face facing the headboard ? And please, take off your night shirt, ma'am."
You smiled and immediately got to work, slowly taking off your night shirt to show off your matching set consisting of a lavender bralette and panties, the latter now soaked and the former framing your breasts so beautifully, Michael's mouth watering instantly. You got on all fours, resting your palms against the soft pillows, facing the wooden headboard of your king-sized bed, then spreading your legs a little.
"Is this okay, Dr. Robby.?" You asked, coyly.
He nodded, slowly inching towards you as his knees hit the mattress. "Perfect." He then stopped behind you, massaging his hands carefully up and down the expanse of your back, stopping for a second to pay close attention to your ass, massaging and groping it slightly, giving you the smallest slap against the left cheek. "Is it okay if I push your head down towards the mattress? Just to check for uh, flexibility issues."
"O - Of course, Dr. Robby."
He smiled, grabbing you gently by the back of your head, pushing your face towards the pillows, pushing your head there to keep it still. He licked his lips as he saw the arch in your back, staring very intently at the wet spot growing in your panties.
"Does that hurt?"
You shook your head. "No, not really in - in this position."
He smiled. "Good," he drawled, "that's good."
He hesitated for a second, pushing your shoulders further down, pulling you down the bed and spreading your legs. "Would it be okay if I tried something, ma'am?" He asked, already bending over and spreading your cheeks, pushing your panties in the middle of your thighs.
"Sure what did you have in - oh my God," you gasped loudly, followed by one of the most pornographic moans you think you have ever emitted in your life. You couldn't see it, but if you could, you would have come on the spot: he was kneeling down behind you, hands gripping your hips as he licked a stripe from hole to clit, suckling softly on it a couple of times before eating you out like a starving man. Your jaw dropped open, letting out a string of moans that to him may as well have been his favorite symphony, your juices dripping down his beard and onto his scrubs top, his eyes closed in bliss as he moaned against you in nothing but pure hunger. He continued on for what felt like hours, the symphony of slurping sounds and loud moans making a sensual cacophony, with pleasure and the squeaking of the mattress due to yours and his knees moving to adjust his posture, trying to prevent his back from aching in the morning. Once he latched his expert lips on your clit again, it didn't take you that long to come again, a shout and the shake in your leg (and his soaked beard) the signs of ultimate pleasure.
He pulled away from you, panting, looking at you in a more disheveled state.
"I'll need to clean this before Monday," he lamented, pulling at his scrub top, "it's almost soaked through."
He looked at you sideways, watching the string of drool landing from your soft lips to the pillows.
"Color ?" He asked, checking in.
You finger-spelled "green," brain too blissed out to verbally respond but not enough to not have heard.
"Perfect," he said, unzipping his pants, unleashing his big, lengthy cock from the confines of his boxers, rolling a condom on himself that he had gotten from the pocket of his camo pants. "Because the fun is really about to begin."
He breached your entrance unceremoniously, moaning at the grip of your sopping hole. His thrusts were slow, but hard and deep, hitting all of the sweet spots inside you with no difficulty, the dragging sensation of his veins adding only to the haze that was clouding your brain. His thrusts started to pick up speed over time, one of his big hands cupping your skull, resting you gently more against the pillow before the grand finale.
He leaned towards you, a whispered "You ready for the last act?" while waiting for a nod.
And when you did, he grinned.
It's showtime.
He grabbed his stethoscope from around his neck, while, with the other hand, he grabbed your hair in a makeshift ponytail to pull you up with, exposing your pretty neck to him, making you moan from the new angle the position put you into. For a second he dropped your hair, trusting you to keep position while he adjusted his, putting the stethoscope around your throat and pulling up, like a rider with his horse's reins.
The moment he did that, your eyes rolled back, the slight daze in your head becoming a fully fledged fog, the pleasure rising enough to make you come on the spot, tightening around him as he also started to get close.
He then gripped both extremities of the medical instrument with one hand, his other sneaking around your hips to spread your labia with one finger before rubbing at your clit with perfect pressure, trying to get you to come alongside him once more. Once you did, coming with a shudder and a moan that could be mistaken as scream, he came inside the condom too with a moan, making sure to be right next to your head as he did so.
He pulled out of you and laid you down on your bed, taking of the condom and tying it off before throwing it away. He walked to the en-suite bathroom, grabbing two clean towels and wetting them, using one to wipe himself down and the other to wipe you down, making sure you were completely clean before peppering kisses on your face, trying to get you to open your eyes.
"C'mon, sweetie, open your eyes," he giggled, pressing a kiss to one of your eyelids just before it twitched open. "There you are, beautiful," he said with a smile.
"How are you doing ?"
You looked at him with an eyebrow raised. "I think I will be sore for my next lifetime, but good."
"Yeah ? all good?"
"Mhmh," you hummed in confirmation.
"Come on," he started, pulling you up in a bridal carry, "You've gotta pee then I'll make you anything you want." He sat you down on the open toilet, letting you handle your business and wiping before he did it himself, picking you up and setting you down on the bed again.
"I guess I'll buy you a new lavender set."
"What ? Michael ! That was new," you whined, "I really liked that one."
"I know, baby, I'm sorry," he cooed softly, kissing you on the forehead again. "You did so well, so good for me."
You smile, exchanging a couple of pecks on the mouth with him for a few minutes before he pulled away, searching your face for any pain or discomfort with furrowed brows. "Are you in any pain ? Hungry ? Thirsty?"
You looked up at the ceiling deep in thought for a moment, taking a few deep breaths as you thought about it carefully before replying. "I could do something to drink. No pain for now, and maybe something to eat ?"
He smiled, mock saluting you before going to the kitchen and making you what he always made you after an intense or long scene like this one: a slice of rye bread, peanut butter, a banana and a drizzle of your favorite honey. He loved taking care of you; not just like this, after you shared your interest and explored the depths of your trust and intimacy like that with him, but he just liked making sure you were okay in every way, from a cold to your emotional wellbeing. Once he'd finished making your favorite "post-workout snack" (as you affectionately called it) and filling up a glass with apple juice, he walked back to the bedroom, stopping and marveling at the sight of you under the covers, sitting up but all comfortable and cozy.
He set the plate on his side of the bed, crawling up into the bed and handing you the glass of juice, smiling at seeing you downing it all in one gulp. Once he also settled down under the covers, he handed you the plate, watching you savor the snack, the noises made while chewing rivaling the ones you made during the scene.
"That good, uh?"
"Oh, shut up, Robinavitch." You said through a mouthful, pretending to be irritated.
He grinned playfully. "You love me."
"Unfortunately," you replied, "You're correct."
You fell asleep cuddled to one another not long after, limbs tangled together in peaceful slumber, letting the late summer afternoon bleed into another blissful summer night.
Hiii!! Requests for The Pitt & ER (1994) are open indefinitely until I say otherwise so pleaseeee don't be scared of leaving me a request (or if you just want to talk with me ab some headcanons or blurbs you have!)
Make sure you check on my pinned post to see who you can ask about! Thanks a lot💕
Me coming in here every Tuesday after a week of the real world☝🏻
trinity santos and the sweetest soul in the er and everyone thinks she’d hate her but trinity is crushing HARD
sugar, spice, and everything nice | trinity santos x fem!reader
like, reblog & comment! requests are open; refer to the pinned post
Summary: Trinity Santos's soft spot that she would die before admitting she had it in the first place. Dennis is so fucking tired.
pairing: trinity santos x fem!reader
cw/tw: a kiss? literally nothing, this is just fluff. i can write smut but i'd rather not do it if it's not explicitly requested. lesbians i guess? (although if that's a tw for you idk why you're in this tag at all)
quick note: i'm actually coming down with a cold so i apologize if this is short and a bit shit, i tried my best, fueled with the crush i have on trinity
If one were to ask at the PTMC's emergency department, at least 90% of the people there (counting only the recurring patients, and the doctors) would be able to say they knew who Dr. Trinity Santos was. Should the following inquiry be then about her personality, the consequent answers and the faces accompanying them would be less than promising. She was a damn good doctor with a difficult personality, and she did not try to hide it. Let the people think what they want, she would say to her fairly recent best friend. What do I care how I look doing my job?
Perhaps for this reason, when you arrived at the ER, all smiles and a sparkle in your eyes that would surely disappear after your first week, everyone thought the same: Trinity Santos would hate your guts. As if trying to put this theory to practice, both Dana and Robby had decided to put the two of you in as many cases together, as if they were teachers choosing an entertaining sitting plan.
You had been more than happy at the prospect, always eager to make friends wherever you went. Work should be a place where you actually want to go, if not for the job itself, at least for the people there, was your motto. Blissful ignorance kept you from seeing or noticing the silent bets passed around by basically everyone in the ED.
Working with Santos proved to be way less eventful than everyone thought it would be. The two of you somehow complemented each other pretty well, not too many words necessary between you to be understood. In fact, sometimes it seemed as if Trinity had no interest whatsoever in talking with you more than the usual pleasantries you gave to an acquaintance or colleague you saw every day.
Which is why it surprised both Dennis and Victoria when Trinity approached you out of her own volition 12 hours in of a grueling shift that surely you would feel on your feet for the next twelve. The central hub was calm, relative as everything was in an ER. Everyone was either doing their charting or taking a rest while the night shift arrived so handoffs could be done, and you were no exception, munching on a protein bar while talking animatedly about a particular case to your coworkers.
"Hey, Bubbles," a voice rang behind you and you turned around, throwing a smile at Trinity. That was a new nickname.
"I gather you're Buttercup then?" You said with a soft smile, missing by a hair both Dennis's and Victoria's wide open mouths.
"Duh." Trinity swayed on the balls of her feet, hands in her pocket. A smirk crossed her face. "Huckleberry can be our Mojo Jojo."
"Hey–" Dennis's complaint was swiftly cut by Victoria jabbing her elbow on his side. Trinity just rolled her eyes.
"There's no way you know what The Powerpuff Girls are."
"I'm not that much of an idiot!" Dennis's complaint was once again punctuated by an elbow on his side. He was going to get a bruise at this point.
"So your parents let you watch a show with a drag queen crab demon and not one with a sponge cooking?" Trinity rolled her eyes. "Don't answer that. I don't care." She turned back to you. "Anyways, can I talk to you for a moment?"
Your eyes widened and you found yourself nodding before you were aware of it at all. "Uh, yeah sure. Right now?"
"Sure. I'm all up to date with my charting." She frowned and pointed at the amused gazes of her two friends. "I am." Her eyes looked down at you. "So?"
"Yeah, of course! Let me grab my things." Your bag was ready to go by your side and you swung the strap over your head and rested it on your shoulder.
The ambulance bay would have to do, Trinity thought. It was getting too warm for her liking in the ER. All courtesy of your presence, of course.
Finding a nook where a somewhat private conversation could be held, Trinity found herself leaning on the wall, the solidness of it helping to ground her body and mind, which felt like they were going to float away like the smoke of a cigarette (not that she smoked).
"You alright?" Her thoughts found an anchor in your voice and she lowered her eyes to find your concerned face. She felt a strange mix of relief at that expression being directed at her, and guilt for the exact same reason.
"Yeah," she choked out. "Yeah, I'm fine."
The unimpressed glance you sent in her direction was so endearing that Trinity felt as if her heart was going to explode. She wondered what that would look like. Biting her lip, she shook her head and looked down to her sneakers.
"Actually no, I lied." She swallowed thickly. "I'm ass at this feelings stuff. Ask Fuckleberry, he'll tell you. He's been on my ass all this time about how I should just suck it up and talk to you, but then I look at you and you're so pretty that I immediately get cold feet."
"Pause," you raised your hand and she looked up in panic. "You think I'm pretty?"
She snorted. "Bordering on adorable, to be honest."
After her confession that left a lot to desire, any reaction would have been fair game in Trinity's perspective. Anything except for the bright smile that filled your face with that same light she always found herself attracted to like a moth to a flame.
"Really?" Your tone was one of awe. How could you not see what she saw?
Trinity nodded, not trusting her voice. She hoped you would understand. And you did, if you walking the few steps that separated you was any sign of it. Your hands found hers and she found out she didn't want to part with that feeling ever again.
"Can I kiss you?" She blurted out and immediately blushed.
"Of course."
The kiss would go into Trinity's metaphorical vault of most cherished stuff in her mind. It was not groundbreaking and she had definitely had had more heated ones in the past. However, it had your signature softness, and that made it more important than anything else. Unhurried, matching her pace so that she wouldn't be left behind. She could cry, actually.
When you pulled away, a soft flush covered her cheeks, which made her all the more endearing. "Wow," was the only thing she could squeak out.
"Good?" You looked earnest.
"Fuck yeah," she laughed. Before you could completely pull away, she gathered her newfound courage.
"Do you want to grab dinner?" She had been about to invite you over to her flat but she felt that was going too fast when you had just had your first kiss.
"Sure! You got any ideas?"
As the two of you walked over to your car, you didn't notice Dennis and Victoria observing the whole scene from behind an ambulance. The younger girl was almost buzzing, most likely in anticipation of all the money she was going to get come next shift.
"You're gonna have to invest on new noise-cancelling headphones," she said to Dennis, putting her hand on her shoulder, as he sighed in resignation. He had done his job as a (unwilling) matchmaker, but at what cost?
Seeing as I'm gonna reach 500 followers very soon, would you guys want to see something special in my account? I was thinking The Pitt blurbs with a prompt (one or two sentences please) and a character of your choosing (YES, even if it's not on my character list, as I feel safer writing smth short for them instead of a oneshot).
Anyways, if you're fine with this, make sure you read my pinned post with the rules! Thank you so so much for your continued support🥰💕
"hey, could you watch him for me ?" - m.robinavitch x gn! reader
plot summary : javadi finds your tiktok account, in particular on a video where do the "could you watch my boyfriend for me?" trend; michael learns what it means to be flirted with on today's internet.
a/n: this was supposed to be a blurb. oh well. I DO NOT CONSENT TO THIS BEING TRANSLATED, POSTED OR REPOSTED OR FED INTO AI IN ANY WAY WHATSOEVER. likes, reblogs and comments are always appreciated :3
tags : nothing really, pure fluff, sassy javadi, flirty mckay, robby jokingly with javadi and mckay because, well, canonically they like him enough to do that (esp in canon), just some silly stuff, gn reader
w/c : 1.4k
credits : gif credit to the owner and divider credit to the oomfie @robinavitchslut
"What's going on here guys, anything interesting?"
When he found the entirety of his staff huddled around the nurses' station, hunched over and laughing and whispering to themselves, Michael Robinavitch wasn't sure of what he would find once he got there. They were all huddled around Javadi, looking down at her phone, pointing and chuckling.
He then noticed what they had all been looking out.
"I see you found my sweetheart's Tiktok account" he commented quietly while smiling.
Javadi turned around, her big eyes wide open in surprise, stuttering as she started to scramble to find words, an explanation for her snooping around, her hands fiddling with her light purple hoodie. As soon as everyone else heard him talk, they all scrambled back to their assigned patients, a quick "sorry Dr. Robby" fluctuating back and forth between the station and the halls at PTMC.
Robby smiled. "It's okay, Victoria, it's not a crime to snoop around."
She smiled warily, "Thank you, Dr. Robby, I just saw a video, and -"
"Oh yeah ? Which one, we made a bunch."
Javadi tilted her head to one side, smiling, looking more interested. "We ?"
Robby nodded, humming. "Sweetheart's obsessed with getting me in their videos. We do silly stuff mostly, but I do enjoy the occasional videos about health advice, trying to go against medical misinformation, things like that."
Victoria smiled. "That's nice ! I - honestly I didn't think you'd be someone to actively try and do something like Tiktok, you know."
Michael laughed. "I can totally understand that. Now, can I see which one of my partner's videos you have been all laughing about ? Because if you don't," he added half-jokingly, "I see disimpactions in everyone's future for the next two weeks."
Victoria's face fell, quickly scrambling to get her phone, opening her account to check on the saved videos section. Once she found what she was looking for, she handed the phone to him, who cradled it in his big hands and smiled as soon as he clicked play.
There you were, dressed in your fanciest clothes for a date night that he had planned just a few hours earlier right after a grueling shift. You quickly smiled, making your way towards the living room giggling, stopping just short of the sofa he was sitting in, now walking slowly.
"Hey guys, I have to finish getting ready, could you please watch my man for me?" you said, failing to contain your laughter, setting the phone against a vase in a way it showed him in one of his best suits, the rich burgundy of his clothes contrasting with the bright red of the couch, reading a medical journal with his readers perched at the end of the bridge of his nose. When you leaned down to kiss him on the cheek, he turned his whole face towards you, kissing you softly but deeply, smiling against your lips as you pulled away, blowing a kiss to the camera, leaving again for the bathroom.
He stared at the phone for the next ten seconds, an unending silence growing more and more uncomfortable before he decided to clear his throat, picking up a random medical journal on the wooden coffee table, careful not to knock the phone down.
"Hello, everyone. You already know who I am, if you don't, I'm Dr. Michael Robinavitch, MD, I'm a Chief Emergency Medicine Attending in PA. Given that my sweetheart has randomly decided to drop you off to 'watch me', albeit I don't understand why, let me give you guys some information on," he paused, turning the journal to check the title, laughing at himself and starting to blush, unknown even to him wether it was from embarassment or not. "Apparently this covers sexual health. Go figure."
He started reading some pages out loud, making sure to explain some specific or complicated medical terms slowly, clearly but not condescendingly, whenever they appeared all throughout the journal. He blushed profusely, starting to stutter a few minutes in to the paragraph, blushing bright red as he kept on reading.
Once he had enough, and kept looking at the hallway waiting for you to come out, he loudly snapped the journal closed, setting it back down gently.
"While this was extremely informative, in my opinion, you don't really need to do all that to practice safe sex. So please, remember the basics: always practice informed consent, use protection at all times, on top of contraceptives, and please remember to also practice aftercare. It's important for both partners."
He then put a hand in the breast pocket of his suit, fishing out a small, velvety blue box, opening it to show a simple yet show-stopping diamond ring.
"I'm also going to propose to my sweetheart today, but don't tell them" he said, chuckling. "This has to be a surprise. Thank you for listening. Robby out."
The video ended right there, with Robby handing back Javadi's phone back to the med student, smiling from ear to ear.
"Did they say yes ?" asked Javadi, waving her phone around embarassed. "I mean, they haven't really been posting much from what I checked."
Michael nodded.
Javadi smiled. "That's great ! Oh my god, c - congratulations Dr. Robby ! That's major news !"
"They only haven't been posting much because they caught the flu on that night," he said, smile taut and half-hidden against his beard. "Karma strikes again, I suppose."
He then walked away, sanitizing his hands and taking a few steps towards the med bay doors before turning back. "Javadi ?"
Javadi looked back up again, blinking a few times. "Yes, Dr. Robby?"
"Could I - could I see the comments under the video?"
She grimaced, looking down for a second before she unlocked her phone again, the video ready. Robby smiled at her, holding one thumb up as he opened the comments
He kind of wished he hadn't done it.
user1 : is this man bothering you my liege?
user2 : is your partner single?
user3: can he fight? he surely can't fight all of us.
Robby looked at the comments confused, his brows pinching together in confusion. He held the phone oh his palm, tilting it lower. "I don't know what any of this means."
"Any of what means ?" asked McKay, coming up behind him and looking around at the phone, now held close to her face.
"This," specified Robby, pointing at those comments. "What does this mean?"
Javadi quickly scurried to McKay's side, looking at the comments and giggling, letting out a quiet "oh" once she saw the same thing her colleague saw.
"Javadi ?"
"Dr. Robby," Javadi stopped herself, chuckling. "These comments are not what they seem, I promise."
"Then what are they? Why would I bother my fiancée?"
"Oh my god, congratulations Dr. Robby," said McKay, looking up at her boss.
Robby smiled, tilting his head down for a second in acknowledgement. "Thank you."
Javadi then took her phone, placing herself between the two senior physicians and holding the phone behind them. "Okay, you see the first comment?"
Robby and McKay nodded.
"Well, they're basically flirting with your fiancée, Dr. Robby. You know how, like, in 90s rom-coms a creepy guy would bother the female protagonist and another guy, the main male character, would come in and say 'Is this guy bothering you ?'"
When it finally dawned on McKay, she snorted ungracefully in laughter. "Oh."
"What? What's so funny?" asked Robby, bewildered.
"I think the internet was flirting with your fiancée, Dr. Robby," stated plainly McKay. She then leaned more towards the screen, lazily scrolling through the comments. "Oh, this one's my favorite ! I do agree though, I think they should definitely drop that skincare routine because they are -"
"One more word, McKay, and you're on disimpaction duty for the whole day," Michael joked.
Cassie raised her hands. "As you wish, Captain; but congratulations, truly, you deserve it."
Robby thanked her quietly, locking Javadi's phone and handing it back to her. "Come with me, Javadi, and hey ?" he started, turning his head back towards her.
"Yes, Dr. Robby ?" asked Javadi.
He hesitated, smiling to himself. "Nevermind; come with me, trauma arriving in 2 minutes, come on let's go."
After the trauma had been stabilized, he took out his phone quietly, typing a quick text to send to you.
mikey <3 : i love you, hope you're having a good day sweetheart. text me if you get worse, okay ?
mikey <3 : …
mikey <3 : and don't listen to the internet, they wouldn't pry me off of you even if they tried.
@iavenderbones @weinthepitt finally posted it thank god ily
may i request dennis whitaker x abbot’s daughter!reader? ♡
abbott comes in early for night shift bc robby called but also to see “what’s the deal” w the boy that captured his daughter’s heart. obvi he is overly protective n has a soft spot for his only daughter but begrudgingly has to accept his two worlds (family + medicine) to collide
you can deicide if reader works at ptmc or not!!
thank you so much for all that u do!! since the pitt is over i hve been coping w x reader fics. . . u have fed me well 🙂↕️🙂↕️
your daughter calls me daddy too | dennis whitaker x fem!abbot!reader
like, reblog & comment! requests are open; refer to the pinned post
Summary: Dennis Whitaker meets his in-law with minor casualties on his side.
pairing: dennis whitaker x fem!abbot!reader
quick note: i got some requests for Trinity and John Carter and I couldn't be happier but if I got to those immediately, I would not be fair to the people that requested before them, so that's why I wanted to do this one for Dennis before I tackle next week's Trinity one :)
disclaimer: the title is a joke because i know Jack would murder Dennis if he ever said or implied that to him lmao
Wednesday morning is unraveling so slowly that it has you trying to stifle yet another yawn as you index the books in the shelf before your eyes. This bookstore job is just a way to keep yourself entertained and as a means of earning money while you do your master's program. Money is not exactly a problem with your dad being the night chief attending of the PTMC, and he had been reluctant when you had first suggested it to him. However, he had relented pretty fast; whether he wanted to recognize it or not, you were the soft spot in his old, battered heart.
The phone in your pocket buzzes with an incoming message, and you sigh, before looking left and right. It would be bad if you got scolded for being on your phone while working. Your colleague would not mind at all, and your boss was not in the bookstore today, but you didn't want to push your luck with the woman's almost supernatural way of appearing when one expected it least. Turning the screen on, you furrow your eyebrows at the handle name.
12:25 trin trin✦ isn't it your dad's day off?
12:25 you yeah why?
12:26 trin trin✦ pretty sure i just saw him talking w/ robby
12:26 you wtf do u know why
12:27 trin trin✦ wait let me ask perlah brb
Okay, so that's not good. Why the hell is your father working at the hospital in his supposed day off? Perhaps he got called in for a mass casualty similar to the Pittfest incident last year. God, that was a nightmare. However, it doesn't seem like that's the case. Trinity would not have asked you if that was the case, the ED needing every hand available. So then, what could be the reason? You pace through the small corridor back and forth so many times that it draws the concerned gaze of your colleague toward you. A quick smile from you is enough for her to pull her attention back to her phone, playing a video. It is really that slow of a day. A sudden ping has you scrambling for your phone.
12:32 trin trin✦ smth ab wanting to meet a guy?
12:32 you shit it's den
12:32 you KEEP THEM SEPARATED I'M GOING THERE
Now, that's the worst possibility. Again, your dad has a very protective streak with you, all coming with the territory of being a single parent. That used to mean absolutely no boys, whether romantic or platonic. Jack Abbot has seen too much shit in his life to trust in a guy only 'wanting' to be your friend. The situation quickly got exhausting which prompted you to draw back from your father a bit, if only in terms of your social life.
Therefore, when you met Dennis Whitaker during a karaoke party with your best friend Trinity at your usual bar, and immediately hit it off, you decided to keep it all under wraps. If not for the peace of your mind, then for the physical safety of Dennis. Fat lot of good that is now.
You rush to grab your things, and march toward your car with the blessing of your colleague, who is more than happy with closing shop. Still, you own her a favour for not telling on you to your boss.
The car drive is spent with the radio blaring some news about some traffic jam downtown, but thankfully it doesn't affect your route to the PTMC. After ten minutes that feel like an hour, you pull your car into an empty parking spot.
The ER is just as noisy as always, but you have become accustomed to its rhythms and are aware that today is a slow day here too, probably like everywhere in Pittsburgh. Walking toward the central hub, you almost bump into Dana, who smiles at you as she signals with a finger for you to wait for her to finish this one phone call.
"What are you doing here, sweetheart?" She finally says after she hangs up. "We didn't expect you today."
"I heard my dad is here?" You ask apprehensively.
"Abbot? He is. You bringing him anything he forgot? I can call him if you want."
You shake your head with panic. "No, please! Could you just tell me where Dennis is?"
"Whitaker?" Now Dana is suspicious. "Last time I saw him, he was working on a drowning victim in Trauma 1. Are you sure everything is okay?"
You sigh in defeat. "No. It's a situation of 'dad vs. boyfriend' I'd rather not see the result of."
"Oh, honey." Dana says with a smile on her face. "I'm sure it won't come to that. Your father loves you very much and Whitaker is a good boy." The next thing she says in a lower voice. "And if he gives you any trouble, you come to me."
You snort. "My dad or Dennis?"
"Both, of course."
The conversation is interrupted by yet another phone call to Dana, who points you toward the supposed direction your boyfriend is in. You make your way through the corridors, mindful of not bothering anyone doing their job. When you arrive at Trauma 1, Dennis is nowhere to be seen, but Trinity's face brightens as she spots you and makes a beeline in your direction.
"Thank God you're here." She says, hugging you. "I was being tortured with the most boring conversation ever."
"Medical student?" You smirk as the two of you walk down the hallway. When she nods, you snort. "You gotta be more patient with them, they're here to learn."
"Yeah, yeah. You don't know this guy. He's so fucking annoying. Super disrespectful with patients too." Trinity sighs. "I don't know what's wrong with students lately."
"I thought Joy was cool?"
"Joy is fucking cool. She is an exception; higher echelon, you know?"
You nod, amused with her antics. A mass of silver curls in the periphery of your vision has you freezing on the spot, any cheeriness leeched from your body. Remembering the original motive of your visit to the ER, you turn to Trinity.
"You did what I told you?"
"Huh? Oh, yeah, managed to sneak Huckleberry in the break room. Figured your dad would be allergic to it."
"Hah hah. Very funny. He also needs sustenance."
"Could have fooled me." Trinity shrugs her shoulders. "Why do you ask?"
You don't answer immediately, body pulled up on your tiptoes trying to see the direction in which what you now know is definitely your dad, is going in. From this position, you can see the break room's door, and you pray he's going to the bathroom right next to it. No such luck. You yank on Trinity's hand as your dad walks through the doorway of the break room.
"Shit!" A sharp glance of a nearby nurse has you mollified but the panic is still obvious in your voice as you lower your voice to tell Trinity that her hiding spot has been breached.
"Relax, I've trained Huckleberry well. A good hiding place is one that changes all the time. What are the chances he's still in there?"
You look at her with an unimpressed glance, and she gulps nervously, before nodding and power walking to the slightly ajar door.
Entering the break room, you don't know what to expect, but it's definitely not your dad crowding on your boyfriend, who is sitting and not daring to make a noise or pull his eyes from the older man's. If one were to narrow their eyes, they might see a wolf cornering a small squirrel.
Before any debacle might happen, you rush to wedge yourself in between them.
"Dad, what are you doing?"
Jack Abbot is not a tall man. God knows your uncle Robby has at least four inches on him. But what he doesn't have in height, he more than makes up for it with his bulk. A veteran with a prosthetic leg, he should be terrifying, but he is your dad, so you know when he is bluffing.
Right now, it's not one of those times. He looks ready to rip Dennis apart bit by bit. However, when he turns toward you, both his eyes and countenance relax in a very noticeable manner.
"Hey, baby, what are you doing here?" He smiles as he hugs you.
"Trying for you to not kill my boyfriend." You suppose that now that the cat is out of the bag, there's no reason to keep hiding it.
Jack scoffs. "We were just having a civilized conversation."
"Uh-huh." You nod disbelieving, positioning yourself behind Dennis, who looks awfully relieved you're here now to defuse the situation. Your hands make their way around his neck, your chin is supported by his curly head, and he melts. You notice your dad's jaw tick in what you know is annoyance. Trinity is nowhere to be seen. Smart girl. "Does a civilized conversation involve you threatening him?"
"Just so he knows where he stands." Your dad is unapologetic about his rather childish behaviour. He puts his hands in his pockets and sighs. "Couldn't you have gotten someone that doesn't work at the same place as me?"
"You don't even work the same shift!" You protest. "Besides, who I date stopped being your business like... seven years ago."
"It is my business when it concerns my family." He furrows his eyebrows and looks in Dennis's direction. "What?"
Looking down, you notice that your boyfriend, bless his heart, has risen his hand, as if asking for permission to talk in a classroom. You nod to him, in encouragement.
"I know you might not be happy with our relationship, sir," Jack and you raise your eyebrows at the word choice. "But I can promise you I will protect and take care of her, just as much as she already does for me." Dennis swallows and lowers his gaze for a second before looking at you. "I-I love her more than myself, sir."
There is a burning behind your eyes that you know it to be the beginning of unshed tears. Such honesty was truly unexpected and you smile before moving your head from its position on top of his to his shoulder where you maneuver to kiss his cheek.
In front of you, Jack is assaulted by two pair of eyes looking straight at him, one pair belonging to his daughter's, famous for her infallible puppy eyes, at least only with him. He sighs and slumps slightly forward.
"You better keep your word." He points at Dennis. "Tell my daughter when your next day off is. Dinner is at eight."
Both Dennis and you let out a breath of relief, and you stand up from your crouched position to walk over to your dad and hug him. He returns it begrudgingly but you notice the strength behind his pulling you in toward himself.
Pulling away from the hug, you furrow your eyebrows. "By the way, who told you I had a boyfriend in the first place?"
He smirks. "Your uncle got a bit too loose-lipped last night after the shift with the beers."
Oh, Michael "Robby" Robinavitch is in for it now.
On the other side of the ER, Robby suddenly sneezes while checking on his trusty tablet.
Guys, I appreciate all the requests for Robby and Dennis Whitaker that you're sending me!!!! I would like to ask anyone interested to send more requests for Jack Abbot, Trinity Santos, and John Carter (from ER).
Before making a request, please, make sure to check the pinned post in my page for the rules!
You trapped him in a lie, the merciful thing to do is let him go. (You and Dennis marry young to save you from the punishments of a teen pregnancy. You believe you are doing the best thing for him when you leave.)
Undermined | @sapiensecrets
you and dennis struggle to get back to normal after your concussion.
Destabilize | @/sapiensecrets
dennis puts his frustrations on you during a mass casualty, after seeing how people seem to drop everything to make your life easier.
false positive | @/sapiensecrets
a few people start speculating that you and dennis have a kid after seeing the two of you with your niece.
advil and ice | @/sapiensecrets
when you injure yourself two weeks before a showcase, dennis nurses you back to health.
cooking mama frenzy | @lsd-astronaut
The algorithm gods show Trinity Santos and Victoria Javadi a familiar face and much needed reprieve.
All Over Again | @crimsoncoatedscalpel
A car accident leaves you with missing puzzle pieces to assemble—the stumble to blindly pick them out turns into the realization you have not only your career, places, and people to relearn, but also a boyfriend. Where will said puzzle pieces lead you to in the end? Who?
‘Doctor Dennis’ | @aworldinsideaperson
Reader has the thought that she’s dying, then comes the anxiety, then comes doctor Dennis.
Dennis has a crush on his close friends partner…, part 2 part 3 | @adrianchasewife
You and Dennis went to med school together, where you and his roommate dated. But Dennis secretly liked you the whole time, even though he shouldn't. Now, you're a student doctor at the Pitt.
The Callout | @petriwriting
Dennis’ girlfriend calls out from work because she’s sick. A certain stubborn doctor is adamant to take care of her.
Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad | @/petriwriting
Whitaker realizes maybe having kids with you one day wouldn’t be so bad.
dennis whitaker x fem!reader | @belleeebelleee
drunken mistakes | @lipstickletterdiary
you went out last night but can’t remember a thing, your best friend Trinity recounts the events. Will everything turn out alright or have you messed up a friendship that might never be the same?
the space we kept, pt 2 | @vulbott
already yours | @/vulbott
Not so secret ! | @kammustdie
You and Dennis think you are so slick hiding your feelings from eachother. Truth is, everyone knows, and everyone who doesn’t know you, notices. You realize this with a very expressive patient at your shift.
Call Off the Clock | @whittakermultiverse
Dennis Whitaker has always been the one people rely on—the doctor who stays late, pushes through exhaustion, and never asks for help. So when he shows up to a shift clearly sick, still trying to take care of everyone else, you’re the only one who refuses to let him. Dragging him out of the ER and into the quiet of his apartment, you take over for once—making him rest, taking care of him, and staying when no one else ever has. Somewhere between stubborn arguments, soft moments, and quiet confessions, Dennis realizes something unfamiliar but undeniable: maybe he doesn’t have to do everything alone anymore.
Secrets Don’t Stay Hidden | @/whittakermultiverse
Three Weeks In | @/whittakermultiverse
After getting locked out of your apartment with no backup plan, you reluctantly call your very new boyfriend, Dennis Whitaker. You expect awkwardness—maybe even a polite no. Instead, you get something that surprises you far more: a place to stay… and a glimpse into something that might actually last.
“tripping, stumbling” | @whatif-ialreadydid
your roommate joins you at the gym... disaster ensues
You finally get the opportunity to work with Whitaker, each of you treating one of a feuding pair of patients. When you get caught in the crossfire, he’s there to patch you up.
Second try | @emma-smth
You and Dennis were in high school together and of course he had the biggest crush on you. But you suddenly moved to the big city to chase your dreams. It's been ten years now and you both come back in each-other's lives in an unexpected way.
June Bug, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5 | @antisirkbitch
Reader is a surgery resident, specializing in orthopedics. Who just happens to be Frank Langdon's little sister who he calls June Bug. But apparently that isn't common knowledge among the Pitt.
HOPELESS | @lovee-potions
he has a thing for you
It’s just a cold | @hannaaalovee
You’ve caught a bad cold, but you insist it’s nothing and that you’ll be fine soon. But Dennis ends up ignoring you and looks after you so you don’t get any worse.
We can do it together | @/hannaaalovee
you had spent the entire week trying to book a spot in one of the best Pilates classes just to spend time with your friend, but ir seemed sehe had a change of plans…. though Whitaker wouldn’t let you miss trat appointment, right?
Missed You | @mabel-777
you decide to rekindle your relationship with the father of your child.
siren song | @inkedobsidian
Dennis had never though about his kinks at all, that was until you gave him a compliment he didn't know how to handle and he couldn't get it out of his head. He ended up avoiding you instead of dealing with it but you don't like being avoided forever
goodnight n go | @vanishingstarrs
The Stray | @confettighosts
Movie Night | @/confettighosts
DILF in the ER | @boiohboii
Dennis Whitaker did not emotionally prepare for the day that his girlfriend’s dad comes rolling into the ER with a gunshot wound. Too bad, he now has to deal with everyone knowing what yn and her dad are like.
(Reader is Leon Kennedy's daughter)
𝑒verything 𝑖s 𝑟omantic | @luvdeuce
you made a grave mistake last night.
𝑠low 𝑠how | @/luvdeuce
dennis felt blessed by the heavens when a beautiful girl his age popped up at the place he spent most of his time at— work. bad side? you worked nights. even worse side? you seemed too infatuated with your attending to notice his own lingering eyes. or were you?
GREEN-EYED MONSTER | @mariposium
you try not to jump to conclusions regarding dennis’s friendship with one of his co-workers, but as more details regarding their relationship come to light, you can’t help entertaining the green-eyed monster inside of you.
Downtime | @starrrlite
You bother your boyfriend after his nap.
just my type | @luvr-bunnyy
scrub off well | @imagines-all-day-everyday
dr whitaker thinks he has a pretty good handle on his crush on you, until he sees you out of your scrubs for the first time.
pregnant!wife headcanons | @pinkmartinigirrrrrl
am I your girl? | @orchidocs
a small collection of texts between you and your boyfriend/coworker dennis
Crushing | @latenightreadingpdf
Dennis is crushing on another med student. Will a girls night in finally give him the courage to tell her how he feels?
Park!reader | @u-get-to-c-the-medical-stuff
Imagine if... Dr. Park had an adopted kid/daughter exactly like him but a little bit softer.
Under the Apple Trees | @rabidabbot
Dennis Whitaker makes a decision that changes the course of your lives. Will he be able to fix the heartbreak he's caused? Or will misunderstandings cost him his chance with you? Can you forgive him for all he's done? Does the title "childhood best friend" and "first love" still mean something to you?
Livin’ Loose | @porchlightfairy
you come in from getting in a motorcycle accident and whitaker gets a little worried. some of the staff (santos) can't wrap their head around the two of you dating.
Mr. Dr. Whitaker | @wings-of-paradis
It’s Career Week at the school you teach at, and you decide that the best way to end the week would be to bring in a real-life doctor to class! However, Dennis underestimates the curiosity of kindergarteners
Gimme Some Love | @i-love-ptv
You and dennis woke up late this morning, but you miraculously now have a few minutes to kill before your shift. What could possibly happen in 10 minutes?
for the record | @caffeinefiles
your five year old sister needs stitches and thinks you’re in love with your coworker. she might not be wrong.
plot : after a few days of braving heat sickness symptoms, when you finally get sick in front of your boss, she calls your boyfriend, michael robinavitch, to come get you. fluff and smut ensue.
a/n : hey ! sorry y'all i have really been struggling with writing and existing in general, but i hope you like it ! also, three quick things : no robby hate under my fics; DO NOT FEED THIS WORK INTO ANY AI OR TRANSLATE IT AND SHARE ON ANY OTHER WEBSITE WITHOUT MY PERMISSION and, also, likes, reblogs and comments are always appreciated :3
warnings : SMUT (MINORS MDNI, 18+ ONLY), possible medical inaccuracies (i researched heat sickness symptoms but have never experienced them myself), sweet and caring robby, you and robby in a bathtub together, unprotected and p in v bathtub sex (PLEASE PRACTICE SAFE SEX), reader is on the pill, reader is explicitly afab, reader grinds against robby's belly, robby likes to eat reader out. this should be all !
w/c : 4.3k
divider by : @honeyluvsw
dedicated to @robbyafterrounds and the ever lovely @weinthepitt take care, ilysm <3
When you noticed that the humid heat of Pittsburgh's summer had hit you, it was already too late.
You had been feeling strange all week, waking up queasy and drinking all the water you could throughout the day, hoping it would help soothe your stomach and calm down the roiling waves running through it, but when they didn't abate, you became more and more unsure if not having your husband in the know with your condition was a great idea. He was going to help you and not judge you about it, you knew that for sure, but it was also embarrassing, for you, to have to ask him for medical advice when he already spent more than ten hours at a hospital helping people in conditions much, much worse than yours, overwhelmed, working understaffed and underpaid at PTMC, the closest hospital to the spacious two-story villa you had moved in with him.
And while Michael Robinavitch was the man of your dreams in every way, he was a big worrier, always somewhere in the house ready to help no matter the hour.
Which was, indeed, why you had not told him about your possible heat exhaustion symptoms until it was too late for you to keep them under control.
At first it was your skin, first too moist for it to be comfortable, the days passing and becoming more and more clammy as the days went by, the buckets of sweat soiling your t-shirts not helping, resorting to having to do the laundry every other day, particularly when Michael wasn't looking to avoid suspicion, having also the need to wash the sheets of your spacious King-sized bed that he had bought for your comfort when you moved in, his giddiness to throw away your dingy, worn-out mattress to replace it. Then came the cramps came. That was the hardest to hide from Robby, but whenever you got into a slightly more lukewarm shower than the usual, your stomach and legs started a mutiny on your body, persisting even after you had dried off your skin and put on some pajamas.
Working a normal, corporate office job also didn't help. Your manager insisted to turn the A/C on full blast at all times, which at first, especially during March through May, was actually helping you shield away from the humid heat and keeping you cool enough to avoid passing out before you stepped outside.
When it came to June, from your greatest ally, it was becoming your own worst enemy.
To even worsen things, your car started heating up, your usual parking spot in the shade now non-existent as your boss, thinking it was helpful, had the tree which was providing you with shade and relief cut down due to it losing a branch during winter directly on top of his car. You had tried to find another spot, but the car temperature had slowly but surely become higher than what it actually was outside.
The first time you had thrown up in it was on June 20th.
Now, on June 25th, was the time everything came to a head. You were currently waiting at your workplace's lobby, sitting down on a chair, the floor-length, checkered blue and red sundress you were wearing now with a stain on its front, head between your legs directly facing down in a bucket your boss had provided you, an unopened bottle of water on your friend's lap, both right in the seating space right next to yours.
You had been sick all morning. When you woke up in your plush bed, with your husband still snoring away under the bedsheets, you felt chills creeping up your spine with each steps you took, the fuzzy slippers and light pajamas making the situation even worse. When you got to the bathroom, you had to get ready in the dark due to the pounding migraine exacerbated by the bright vanity lights, your nausea also triggered by those. Once you got ready and got dressed for the day, something light and airy and office-appropriate, you picked up your bag, checked for the keys, the car keys and your wallet, kissed the back of your husband's head goodbye and stepped outside, the immediate hit of the warm sun rays making you feel dizzy and stumble in your steps, making you fall and almost scrape your knee. Then you got in your car, and while this time you were lucky enough to have parked in the shade, as you started the car you had realized that its A/C was broken, so you had to reel down the car windows, which didn't help with your condition.
Once you got out of your car you thought you were going to be fine, the nausea and chills now in the background of your brain, smiling and greeting everyone as you walked inside, getting behind your desk and sitting down with a smile on your face.
Three hours later, your boss good-naturedly complained about the heat, asking you to turn the A/C to full strength, which you did, of course.
Three hours later, you threw up for 15 minutes at your desk.
Then, you passed out.
When you came to again, you found yourself surrounded by your coworkers and boss, all looking at you with their brows furrowed in worry.
"Hey, welcome back to the land of the living," joked Carol, sitting next to you once everyone had left you alone, her gentle hand rubbing up and down your back. "Do you remembered what happened ?"
You nodded weakly, a glob of spit slowly descending from your swollen lips into the bucket. "Yeah, sadly."
"You have a fever of 100.5, we had to call Michael to come over and get you."
You groaned. "Couldn't you have driven me home ?"
Carol chuckled, wrapping you in a very light yet very strong one-sided hug. "You know we had to tell him, sunshine, he would have been worried; plus today's his day off, you know it would have been scary for him if Dr. Abbot or, god forbid, Nurse Evans called him to inform him that you were there."
You nodded. "Can you be wrong, for once in your life ?"
"No can do, sunshine," Carol smiled, winking at you and patting your head again.
Before you could reply with a sarcastic quip, the loud sounds of someone running up the stairs two at a time reached your and your best friend's ears. As you kept staring at the stairwell to your right, out of nowhere, you started laughing. Here was Chief Attending Michael Robinavitch, tough and seasoned veteran of all things medical, standing right in front of you panting, hair askew, glasses strewn across his face, his usual backpack half open and, to everyone's surprise, he was still in his pajamas.
"I came as soon as they called," he started out, quietly, slowly sinking to his knees as he gently cradled your face between his two big hands and gently lifting it away from the bucket, frowning at the green-ish hue in your face. "What's wrong, sunflower ?"
You spoke weakly, fingers trembling as you explained your week of what you thought was only a minor ailment, avoiding the slowly growing elephant in the room as it occupied more space, its piercing gaze directed with a laser focus at your soul. When you finished talking, you looked away from it in shame.
"Baby, why didn't you come to me ?" he asked concerned, the tension between you as tense as a live wire.
You spit in the bucket, groaning as the saliva clung for its life on your bottom lip, only to feel the most tender touch as he coaxed the web of spit free, allowing the trail to finally fall in a quiet sound.
"You - you already treat people for work, Mikey, I don't want to be even more work f'you."
He laughed. "It's not work, if it's you. I'm here to help, you know that."
And just like that, the elephant left, making your chest feel lighter.
Robby coaxed you up from the chair gently, holding you steady by his side and putting the bucket back in front of you, making sure it rests steady in your still somewhat shaky grip. Once he felt your swaying wane, he gripped your hips slightly more assuredly, stamping a kiss on your left temple, the stubble of his neatly-kept beard a pleasant sensation amongst the burning pain.
"Thank you, Carol," he said sincerely, smiling with his face but not his eyes, worry shining in his big, brown eyes.
"It's not an issue, really. Go take care of our girl now, yeah ?"
He nodded, grabbing your bag and putting it on his shoulder, taking you to the elevator.
The drive home was a blur in your feverish haze. You only remember the gentle breeze inside the car, the occasional squeeze of a bigger, calloused hand on yours, a gentle tune playing from the cd player and the voice you loved more than anything in the entire world humming along, slightly out of tune but never out of place, piercing through the fog taking up all of your senses. You loved this, moments where life may not be perfect, your relationship often unsteady and full of cracks and tears from the many arguments had, ugly flaws to repair but never to hide, but where it was you and him, the two of you the same people who met at a common friend's dinner party now many years behind them, slow dancing in a dimly lit room and never letting go.
"We're home, baby" Michael said, gently shaking you out of your stupor.
"Mh ?"
"We're home, can I keep the A/C running in the car so I can regulate the temperature at home?"
You nodded, smiling slightly as he pecked your lips, only to quickly walk towards the house. You watched him with a bleary look, smiling as tears gathered in the corners of your eyes, which scared Michael once he got back to the car and saw you there, spaced out and upset.
"Hey, hey, what's wrong ?" he asked quietly, kissing the tears away from your face.
"I just love you so much, thank you for taking care of me" you whispered in a broken voice.
"Oh, sunflower," he cooed, grinning a genuine smile towards you, "never, ever thank me for doing the bare minimum, okay ?" he asked, kissing your feverish forehead, "now let me help you get inside, okay ?"
You nodded, weakly getting up just as Michael opened your favorite pink parasol, covering both you and him in the pleasant, yet small, shade. You walked towards the porch with his support, hands as steady as always as he gently made you sit on the couch outside, shaded by the roof and some beach umbrellas. There, he took out his first aid kit and the supplies he always brings to the hospital from his bag, the MSF badge giving his brown bag a splash of color and a world of meaning. He took out his stethoscope, listening to your heart and lungs as you took deep breaths; after that he gave you the thermometer, kissing the right cheek as he put the medical device in the left corner of your mouth.
After the thermometer beeped, he smiled. "99.8, it's finally down a bit." He kissed your temple, his cheeks now rosy from the heat and happiness. "Good job, sunflower."
You groaned, gently wiping at your face. "I feel so sticky".
He chuckled, wiping your face with a wet washcloth. "Already started running you a bath."
"Baby," you whined, burying your face in the crook of his neck, smelling sweat and the cologne he puts on every day, this wooden yet spicy scent that reminds you of all the winter nights you spend in front of a fire during his days off, watching movies and drinking hot chocolate and telling each other story, with the days ending in you two falling asleep tangled in one another. "You didn't have to, honey."
"Of course I had to, it's my job as your husband. Now come on," he said, kissing you briefly on the lips, "bath's waiting."
You let yourself be carried by him, mumbling a half-coherent joke about his back and knees that you weren't sure that anything came out, his incredulous laughter after not being proof enough for your sick brain, but all thoughts halted when you stepped inside with the door closer behind you, the house now cooled to the perfect temperature. He took you to the bathroom, all of the windows half open, the baby blue ceramic tub filled halfway with soapy bubbles resting gently on the surface with some salts, the air warm enough without the air being too suffocating.
He gently sat you down on a stool, putting one of his long fingers in the water.
"Perfect temperature. I'll give you some medicine first, you can soak later." He said, taking two little Ibuprofen pills and a glass of water, smiling at you as you swallowed them. He undressed you gently, making sure your sundress didn't get any wrinkles or tore by accident, taking off your underwear with the same reverence one uses while worshipping at the altar of their beloved. He put you down inside the tub, your sigh in relief dissolving the worry burdening their shoulders.
"That good, sunflower ?"
You nodded, moving your head down so your hair could get wet. "You know what could make it better ?"
"No, what ?"
"With you joining me," you smiled.
He shook his head while smiling and looking down, taking off his glasses to clean then with his sleeve. "I don't know, I -"
"Please, for me?" you asked him, looking up while pouting and giving him the wettest, saddest puppy dog eyes you could muster.
He sighed, resting the glasses on the edge of the sink.
"You are so lucky you're cute."
You cheered quietly, kneeling in the water to make space for him, watching as he took off the only few layers he usually wore to bed and laid them gently on the lid of the toilet, his boxers and socks ending up directly in the hamper next to the washing machine. You felt your skin heating up to the tips of your ears, the contrast between his thick, dark chest hair and the delicate golden glow of his Magen David making your mouth water, feeling yourself growing wetter as you looked slightly downwards at his rounding belly.
"What ?" he asked, raising an eyebrow as he laid down in the water, grabbing your hips and dragging you to his lap, belly directly against yours. "Do I have something on my body ?"
You shook your head. "No," you gulped, moving your hands and framing his belly with them.
Robby smiled, laughing and smiling as he understood what was going on. "You are insatiable -"
"Can I grind on it ?" you asked in a meek voice.
He blushed a deep purple, hiding his face in his hands. "What ?"
"Oh come on, baby, I'm serious, I really want to !" you said, whining, slowly dragging your body against him.
He whimpered, nodding sheepishly. "Okay, okay."
You repositioned yourself, straddling his waist and aligning your dripping pussy with his navel, dragging it back and forth on the round surface of his stomach. You had been dreaming of doing this for a while now, entranced by his stomach before going to bed, in the shower and in the many times you had seen him put on his scrubs, the tight fabric stretching and accentuating the stomach of the man you loved the most, many morning spent masturbating and coming hard to the thought of finally putting your body on it. You moaned in delight, the feeling of his round belly with sparse, coarse hair running through and brushing gently against your clit sending shivers down your spine, thanking your lucky stars that you were already both soaking in warm, soapy water, with him unable to feel the wetness from between your thighs. You started moaning louder when you felt his two big hands cupping and squeezing at your ass, helping you slide back and forth.
"Thaaaat's it, feels good mh ?" he whispered in your ear, breath catching in his throat.
You nodded, moaning, the haze in your mind unable to form words in a cogent manner.
"You think you can come for me like this ?" he asked, moving you up and down slightly faster on his body, watching your head thrown back in pure bliss.
"Already - ngh - almost, 'm almost there," you replied breathlessly.
"Then come for me, sunflower," he commands, sneaking two of his long fingers in between his belly and your sopping pussy, spreading your folds to then circle your clit gently, flicking it with his short, blunt nail every once in a while, making your nerve ending sending pleasurable shocks up and down your body.
You came, quietly and with a low moan, not short after.
You slumped against him, your head on his shoulder as his hand rubbed up and down your back, kissing your temple and hairline and murmuring endless praises in your ear. You slowly sat up, the fog in your brain from the earlier sickness finally starting to clear up.
"Can I take your temperature baby ?"
You nodded, lifting your arm up slightly as he gently used a sanitary wipe for the thermometer, putting it below your armpit to then lower your arm down again with the other hand. He kissed you on the temple, pressing his palm across his forehead.
"You feel better, but, let's wait before celebrating, okay ?"
You smiled sleepily, laying your head down again, looking at the bubbles roaming freely in the tub, your husband's big hands making waves in the water and blowing some soap in your face, making you giggle without fail. You stared at his face as he started talking about a movie he had seen with Jack a few nights ago, when he came over as you were away for the weekend due to a job convention, but instead getting lost in his eyes and the wrinkles around them. You had missed this side of him; it had always been there, even when you knew he was at his lowest, but he loved to always remind you, through gestures or words or gifts, that you were loved by him too, even if his brain was trying to tell him otherwise.
You were brought out of your reverie by the gentle beep of the thermometer.
He smiled widely, "98.6," he declared, holding up the thermometer in the air like a trophy. "We did it ! We broke the fever !"
He cupped your cheeks and kissed you deeply, the grin on his face not leaving.
"I didn't do anything babe," you replied, "'m not the one who took care of me."
"And you won't have to, not as long as I'm around, now come here." He gripped the back of your head gently, coaxing you into another kiss, a deeper one, with his tongue pushing between your lips seeking to enter your mouth, grinning like the cat who caught the canary once you did. He gripped your hip with one hand, moving your hips to align with his own, your sopping wet hole aligning with his quickly hardening cock. He pulled away for a second, picking up a glass of water next to the bathtub and tipping your head backwards, letting you drink the water in slow sips. Once you were done, he rested the palm of his hand right on top of your throbbing clit, letting you grind against it.
"Do you want this ?"
You nodded, words failing you as you started to get lost in bliss again.
"But we don't have any protection, sunflower."
You groaned. "I'm on the pill, Robby, I need it."
He smiled, tapping your left hip twice, asking you to slightly lift yourself up so he could take his own dick in his hands, tugging it with his fist a couple of time before he let it go, the sound of his thick cock slapping against his belly making you moan. You grabbed it gently in your hand, aligning it with your entrance and slowly sinking down on it, both of you moaning as you enveloped him in your tight heat, the water rippling around you two. When you stopped halfway through, panting, you looked up at him pleadingly, hoping he'd understand.
When he smiled, massaging your clit in a circle with two of his long fingers, you knew he did.
Your body started to relax again, tension uncoiling from your shoulders as you managed to take him all the way down, resting for a few moments with your hips flush against his.
"You wanna move for me, sunflower ?" Michael asked after a few minutes.
You nodded, riding him slowly and deeply, making sure that the water didn't overflow out of the bathtub; you then craned your head up towards him, exchanging messy kiss after messy kiss as you moaned into his mouth, whimpering when you felt his big hands gripping your hips slowly guiding your rocking movements. When you felt yourself getting closer, you guided one of his hands back onto your clit, grinding against it while moving faster on his dick, the intermitted clenching of your pussy on it starting to make the love of your life incoherent, too. He got the message very quickly, alternating between rubbing and tapping at your clit.
"Come for me, sunflower, good girl," he said, moaning as he felt you clench down at his words, coming inside you at the same time you came.
He smiled at you, gently brushing your hair off of your face. He lifted you up and off of him, standing up and helping you get out of the tub, wiping you down, then himself, and draining the tub from the now cold water. He brought out a stool, making you sit down with a towel underneath, taking the shower head, your lavender-scented shampoo and your favorite conditioner and washing your hair carefully, kissing your head as he started brushing your hair, drying it and picking you up in a bridal carry, bringing you to your shared bed, the sunflower bedding and many sunflowers strewn around everywhere in it, from the nightstand to the windowsills.
You smiled. "Those are new, baby."
Michael nodded, smiling from ear to ear as he laid you down, opening the towel he had wrapped you in and laying it down near the edge of the bed. "More sunflowers for my favorite sunflower. Now, relax."
"Wait, what are you - oh, my God" you gasped as he licked a stripe from your hole to your clit, sucking the pearl twice before diving into your cunt like a man possessed, eating you out messily and loudly, the sounds alone driving you crazier. You started grinding your hips against his face, shouting a moan so loud it was the only thing you heard over the roaring of blood in your ears once his nose started nudging your clit. Your legs started shaking, enough for him to pull away for a second, his eyes locked onto yours, a moan leaving your mouth once you saw the amount of slick covering your husband's face, the rug burn between the thighs now only a dull sensation.
He smirked, gently grabbing your legs from behind your knees, hoisting them over your shoulders.
" 'm not done yet, baby."
He dove back in again after that, moaning with gusto at your taste as he moved his tongue faster, the sensations making your eyes roll in the back of your head, jaw dropping open and loud moans leaving your mouth at a pitch you didn't think possible.
"Ba - babyyyy, baby i'm - ba -" you moaned, trying to tell him you were about to come.
"Come for me, sunflower, come on" he mumbled against your pussy, his lips then latching onto your clit as he sucked one, two, three times, before you did as he said and let go, his tongue gently getting you through your orgasm.
Once you finally stopped shaking, you laid down starfish on the bed, smiling as he grabbed a fresh towel, a pair of your underwear and your comfiest pajamas, gently and carefully dressing you; he smiled down at you, grabbing your sunflower blanket and wrapping you in it, carrying you to the kitchen and sitting you down on the sofa, kissing you deeply.
" You okay, baby ? Need anything ?"
You hummed, thinking and listening to your body for a second.
"Some food would be nice, yeah," you replied quietly.
"You feel up to eating something heavy ? Pasta, or some rice ?"
"I think pasta will be fine, baby, thank you."
He smiled, taking your hand and kissing the back of it, moving away reluctantly as he took out all the ingredients to get started on the pasta.
You smiled, slowly zoning out and staring at the blanket wrapped securely around you.
You knew your relationship wasn't perfect; you both had your issues that you were working through in couples and individual therapy, making sure to take the time and clear the air around you whenever some miscommunication mishaps happened. It was draining at times, sure, whenever either you or Michael had a rough patch you both retreated into your shells and lashed out, often saying ugly things to one another; but it was at times like these, whether you were sick in body or in mine, that you showed up anyway for one another, never letting the one you loved most suffer alone.
As your thoughts drifted away into a sea of bliss, you realized that the sweet grip of sleep slowly started tightening its hands on you, and you let it, drifting off on the plush couch.
You knew he'd wake you up when the food was ready.
a Rabbot x "Arrival" (2016, dir. Denis Villeneuve) AU drabble
a/n : hi y'all, sorry i have been MIA. i have been writing for robby, i promise, something will come out at the end of the week but here is something from an AU i decided to tackle, one day
w/c : 725
tags : angst with no comfort (for now), based on this flashforward from the movie "Arrival" (2016, dir. Denis Villeneuve), so all credits go to the people who made the movie.
divider credit : @kodaswrld
dedicated to @nerdofeverythingforthecenturies
As he looked down at his feet in the garbled, cold and grey that was his present, the voice of a child, his young child,his little Daisy, dragged him into the warm and yellow landscape of the future. He was wearing his usual cargo pants, the feeling of a heavy jacket around his as he looked at his beloved daughter's sock-clad foot.
"Help me, papa."
She was missing one of her green boots and his own were scuffed and riddled with mud.
Why was she missing a boot ?
"Michael ?" a distant voice asked, worry clear even through his fog.
He felt himself become faint, knees buckling below him and falling with a whimper before he could even get in the car.
"Oh my god, woah !" exclaimed Jack, trying to keep him upright.
"Papa," his daughted called for the second time, shaking the hand that was holding her and making Michael look up from the ground, his brows furrowed in confusion. He looked around, uncognisant of the lake in front of him, his daughter now irritated as she called him again.
"Papa !"
He looked down at her and smiled, before he saw her other hand that was holding the missing boot.
He crouched down, picking up the boot and putting it back onto the ground.
"Sorry, honey," he whispered, making sure that she was okay, holding her hand as Daisy put her foot back into the boot. "What day is it, do you know, baby ?" he asked her quietly, looking up at her bouncy red curls and brown puppy dog eyes, just as round as …
"Sunday," Daisy replied in her sweet voice.
He looked around and gasped in surprised, before looking up at his daughter with what he thought had been the most reassuring smile he could muster.
Daisy looked down at him meekly, big eyes slightly shining with unshed tears. "Are you going to leave me like Daddy did?"
"Daisy, baby, Daddy didn't leave you, he didn't leave us, remember ? He's," he stopped himself, looking frantically around the shore to find him, pointing at a blurry shape of the man he loved on the other side of the lake, pacing back and forth in what he thought were his camo pants, "he's right over there, see?"
Daisy looked up, nodding slightly towards her other parent only to then look back down at Michael. "He doesn't look at me the same way anymore."
Michael looked up at the love of his life, his eyes wide open as a tear fell, butting his head very lightly on Daisy's arm before biting his lip and giving a watery sigh.
"That's … that's my fault. I told him something that he wasn't ready to hear."
"What ?" Daisy asked curiously.
Michael took a moment to collect himself, wiping futilely at his eyes to stop the waterfall of silent tears tracking down his cheeks. "Well, believe it or not, I know something that's going to happen."
Now that the truth was out, he let himself sob.
"Papa ?"
"I can't explain how I know, sweetpea," he said, framing his daughter's youthful face in between his two hands. "I just do. And when I told your daddy, he," he sniffled, interrupting himself for a fraction of a second, "he got really mad at papa, little flower. And he said I made the wrong choice."
Daisy smiled worriedly at his papa for a second. "What ? What's going to happen?"
"It has to do with a really rare disease," he rasped, sniffling, "and it's unstoppable." He looked up at his daughter trying to smile, hoping to ease some of the tension in the athmosphere. "Kind of like you are; your swimming, and your poetry, and all the other amazing things things that you share with the world."
His beautiful daughter grinned widely. "I am unstoppable ?"
Michael nodded vigorously. "Yeah."
"Thank you, papa !" his daughter squealed, attacking him with a hug which Michael promptly reciprocated. Before he buried his face in his daughter's curls, he looked out on the other side, seeing the former blurry shape now slowly take more precise features, salt-and-pepper curls first and foremost, his husband's form facing them.
He buried his face in her hair, whimpering and closing his eyes.
hello!! i loved your work abt the pitt 🥹 can i req a whitaker x reader where reader is a nurse and they both dance around their feelings until something happens to reader, leading her to be taken to the ed? feel free to change anything and its ok if its not something u want to do!! thank youu for your hard work and for feeding us 🙏
say that you love me | dennis whitaker x fem!nurse!reader
like, reblog & comment! requests are open; refer to the pinned post
Summary: There's nothing better than a man that becomes a little stupid when they're in love, trust me.
pairing: dennis whitaker x fem!nurse!reader
cw/tw: non threatening injury blown out of proportions in dennis's head, trinity being trinity <3
quick note: hiii my guys, I'm back from the dead (Easter so not that far-fetched) and I bring you this (shit) fanfic... I promise you I will watch The Pitt fully one of these days (when season 2 is complete) bc I feel like Dennis is my comfort zone and I have like 15 requests asking for Robby lmao
quick note 1.5: i actually needed another week to recharge lol the mysteries of the body and mind of a chronic depression user...
quick note 2: I write for myself first and foremost. if you're one of these robby haters that think he should be dead, i urge you to unfollow me bc we're just not gonna understand each other. I don't give a fuck about any ship wars or whether a character did anything, I'm just a measly 'x reader' writer...
Working in the ER comes with its own risks. You are aware of this, and accepted them when you first started at the Pittsburgh Trauma Medical Center, the Pitt for friends. God only knows how so many patients can there be in one shift, and you're only in the day shift. If rumours are true, night shift has it worse in terms of freak accidents and overall weird people. And that's without mentioning their completely disrupted circadian rhythms. So, maybe you should count your blessings and appreciate the fact that you can more or less follow the life of the world outside of the ER.
And, most importantly of all, whether you want to admit it or not, the day shift is all the better because of one person, that being Dennis Whitaker. The sight of the mousy-faced doctor had brightened your days and made them way more bearable, ever since he had started out as a medical student, always following Dr. Robinavitch around the ER.
A few shared cases had shown how well the two of you got along, some sort of intuition layering your actions, no more than a few words needed to be thrown around. Perhaps because of that was that Dana and Dr. Robby always made sure to pair you together, if circumstances allowed it.
In due time, you had ingratiated yourself with Dennis's friend group, and even gotten invited to drinks after work every chance they had. Trinity, Victoria, and Mel had become some sort of confidantes. It is how you found yourself one night with the three of them in Trinity's and Dennis's shared appartment.
"Alright," Trinity cried out while nursing a bottle of wine. "Although, it pains my heart that Huckleberry is not with us tonight," she slurred these words while the rest of you giggled. "We have more pressing subjects to discuss here."
"Such as?" You smiled on the rim of your glass as you swallowed a gulp of your favourite drink.
"Such as you wanting to eat my best friend's face!" Trinity's sudden yell made you start in surprise, but her words were what almost made you choke on your drink.
"Wh-" You sputtered and coughed as Mel tried to help hitting your back. "That's not true!" Warmth was seeping into your cheeks and as you saw Trinity's smug smirk, you knew any argument was in vain.
"Oh, please! It's so obvious, right, Crash?" Victoria looked between both of you with wide eyes before shyly nodding. "See, everyone agrees with me."
"I think you two are very cute together." Mel said with a sweet smile.
"But we're not, you know, together!" You tried to reason, but Trinity raised a hand to stop you.
"Don't think it's because of lack of trying. You just got the most oblivious and self-conscious guy in the world."
Before you could question her enigmatic words, the doorbell rang, and Trinity jumped up to open the front door. Pizzas, alcohol, and a trash movie all overshadowed the apparently reciprocated crush on your coworker.
A few weeks passed, and the drunken conversation seemed to be lost to the currents of time. You kept dancing around Dennis in the ER, yanking your heart back with an iron grip whenever it tried to get ensnared by the curly-haired doctor's orbit.
It got so bad, you could have cried when you got a case apart from Dennis. You really needed to get your act together, and what better thing that start by trying to cut down on his presence by your side?
The case was fairly simple, and the patient nice enough, that you had no problem whatsoever in putting the IV line in. After letting them know their doctor will be there shortly, you tried to leave the room, an endeavour thwarted by something as stupid as a cable running through the floor.
The fall might not have happened at all if you had not had 10 hours of nonstop running around the ER behind you. As things were, your coordination was not good enough at the moment it mattered the most, and you came crashing down along with the equipment cart.
You tried to cushion your fall with your right hand, but the impact caused all the air in your lungs to leave in a sudden rush. Barely aware of your surroundings and a dull throbbing pain in your hands and tongue, you tried to gasp for air that seemed unable to fill your chest.
A ringing was barely registered by you before some silhouettes appeared in your vision. Gentle but firm hands cradled your head, turning it side to side. Your ears could barely make out words, broken sentences the only thing you could comprehend.
"... didn't hit her head..."
"Small laceration..."
"...almost bit... her tongue..."
Someone was gripping your hand, and with strength you definitely did not have, you tried to point at your chest, your lungs trying in vain to gulp in air, and your heart feeling as if it was going to beat straight out of your chest. Before you could say anything, your vision was bordered by small black dots, that gradually filled your surroundings before sinking you in a deep and impenetrable darkness.
You woke up in a bed, hands and chin still throbbing albeit more dully. Your right hand was bandaged and you tried to turn it around to somewhat ascertain the damage done. A rustling by your side had you whipping your head in that direction, only to see an exhausted-looking Dennis Whitaker. As he locked eyes with you, you noticed they seemed red, as if he had been crying until not too long ago.
"Den-" You tried to say, before your throat gave up, making you cough a little.
"You're alive."
You raised an eyebrow at that. "Um, yeah? What did you expect?"
Dennis simply shook his head. "You had a nasty fall. Almost bit straight through your tongue. I don't want to imagine what would have happened if there weren't people near, or your patient hadn't ringed for us."
"Oh, I'll have to go thank them if they haven't been discharged already." You made to sit up in the bed, but Dennis's hands came down on your shoulders, pushing you back into the pillows.
"You need to rest! You didn't see yourself gasping for breath on the floor."
"I felt myself gasping for breath on the floor." You grimaced and looked at the curly-haired doctor. "Really, Dennis, I would appreciate you caring so much more if it had been more of a life-threatening instance. Don't tell me you haven't had a bad fall that leaves you with no air!"
"That's not the point!" Dennis almost never raised his voice and it always surprised you when it did. "Whether I've had it or not does not take away that I don't want you in that situation!"
He looked at you with a pained expression that clashed with your wide-eyed, open-mouthed one.
"What?"
"I'm never telling her she was right..." he muttered, and before you could ask again, he surged forward, and captured your lips in his own.
The kiss was not gentle, but pent up with all the, truly unfounded, worry, and care he had for you. Although it took you by surprise, you quickly recovered and kissed back with fervour, a cycle of renewed feelings being exchanged between you. Your left hand made its way to the small curls on his nape, but the sudden spike of pain, had you hissing under your breath. Dennis immediately stopped in his thorough study of your mouth to look intently at your injury.
"Doesn't seem like the stitches came out. We should be careful, though." He smiled at you, and you tried to pull him in for another kiss he was only too eager to give, before the door opened with a slam, Trinity coming in with a shit-eating grin at your position.
Hello! While asks for The Pitt and ER (1994) will remain open, I won't be posting anything this following week due to Easter holidays and doing a bit of well-deserved self care.
If you want to leave any ask, request, or just want to talk ab anything, feel free to do so! In case you want to request anything, please make sure you read the pinned post and my masterlist in my bio.
Yes, you've read it right. From now on, I'll be writing for The Pitt full time (until another fandom catches my eye and coexists with this one, or I get tired of this)🥰
Requests rules are as follows:
- No racism, homophobia, transphobia or hate of any kind, you will be swiftly blocked. I don't play games with this.
- Behave like normal people and keep in mind i am a human being with feelings too so please be nice when requesting
Characters I will be writing for:
• Michael "Robby" Robinavitch x Reader
• Jack Abbot x Reader
• Dennis Whitaker x Reader
• Rabbot
• Rabbot x reader
• Trinity Santos x reader (only fem!reader)
• John Truman Carter III x reader
• If you want another pairing or character, don't hesitate to request and we can see what can be done 😊
Thank you so very much for your understanding and support!
Go girl! Give us nothing! @lsd-astronaut - Tumblr Blog | Tumgag
