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Monterey Bay Aquarium
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@michealrobinavitch
Masterlist
the one where you find out you're pregnant
the one where you fall asleep
the one where Dana meddles
daddy's home
first sickness
the one about the helmet
Valentine's Day
the one where your hearing aid dies
the one where he takes care of you
that ask put chubby!robby on my mind again (gn!reader)
Robby who is aware that he's a big guy, and while he tries not to beat himself up about it too much, he can't help it. He's in his fifties now, and with his age comes the knowledge that he just won't ever drop this stubborn belly of his.
Which is fine. He's fine about it. He doesn't get insecure or a little envious when a patient asks Jack about his workout routine. And he definitely doesn't blame his singleness on the softness that clings to his figure at every angle. Robby does none of those things because he's fine being a little fat.
So, maybe he's a little surprised when you, his sweet neighbor from two doors down, come knocking on his door one evening with an empty measuring cup and a nervous smile.
Flour, you claimed to have needed, but when Robby invites you inside, the measuring cup is quickly abandoned in favor of talking his ear off. Even when Robby's provided your fill of flour, you stay, leaning against the counter as you ask questions and then questions about his answers.
Finally, though, when you ask his opinion on thermonuclear reactors, Robby puts his foot down. As politely as he can, Robby explains that he has work in the morning and really must insist that you return home.
It's then that you blurt out, "Would you be interested in dinner with me? A date?"
A stunned silence falls between you two. Robby is only to shake himself out of pure shock to answer when he sees your eyes widen in panic.
"Yes," Robby says, because any other answer would be stupid. You're kind, interesting, and attractive. Apparently, you're also enough of a sucker to think that Robby of all people is a catch.
But, surprisingly, Robby isn't thinking too much about that as he watches your short walk home. Rather, his mind is kind to him, floundering on only one thought.
A date.
Robby has a date.
"I have seen so many people die, that I feel like it's leaching something from my soul"
robby’s favourite time of the week is lazy weekend mornings with his girls- nothing has ever compared
he ignores the throb in his lower back as he lifts his daughter onto the kitchen counter- her pyjamas still warm from the duvet cocoon she crawled from to wake her dad up. robby is trying to shush her giggles so you can sleep in whilst he makes breakfast for the three of you
still trying to sound out words properly, your daughter loves to babble and robby is fluent in her language. an outsider would never know what the random babbles shes proclaiming would mean but of course, her dad understands perfectly ❤️
“oh, you want pancakes this morning?”
she nods delighted at robby’s excited tone, wriggling to get closer to him and making grabby hands at his beard. his smile is bright as he presses kisses to her soft hands and face, still slightly puffy with sleep. she whines at robby to hold her
“i’ll hold you baby but when uncle jack is mad at daddy for being sore at work- it’s your fault okay?” robby mutters at he hauls his sleepy girl onto his hip
give him to me :( and talk to me more about robby!!!
𝗠𝘂𝘀𝘁 𝗕𝗲 𝗟𝗼𝗻𝗲𝗹𝘆 𝗢𝘂𝘁 𝗜𝗻 𝗣𝗮𝗿𝗶𝘀 𝗜𝗳 𝗬𝗼𝘂 𝗧𝗮𝗹𝗸 𝗟𝗶𝗸𝗲 𝗧𝗵𝗮𝘁- 𝗠.𝗥.
Pairing- Michael Robinavitch x Nurse!Reader
WC- 4.1k
Summary- Robby decides to cut things off ahead of his sabbatical. He makes it a month until the regret is unbearable.
Contains- 18+ SMUT MDNI, unprotected p in v, age gap relationship (20s-50s), nurse/attending relationship, they're kind of toxic but kind of working on it?? angst to smut to fluff, idiots in love, very lightly proofread :)
A/N- divider from @batsydividers!
Every step you take is laden with stone, the blinding overhead lights of the E.R. pierce through your pounding skull. Your eyelids are heavy as you twist your lock, the sleeve of your favorite sweatshirt gathers at your wrist- it's gray, worn in, and smells of a certain, woody cologne that sends you spiraling with every inhale.
You take a moment to rest your forehead against your locker, eyes squeezing shut to will the tears away. You drift back to the night before- you were criss crossed on your bed with a bowl of ramen, desperate to keep your eyes open as the T.V. droned the same, tired sitcom.
Then, your phone had lit up, a single buzz that blew your eyes wide and stopped your heart. Three words flooded your screen, from the man you hadn't heard from in one whole month.
I miss you.
I saw someone talking about how we should discuss impotence as something that could happen when we're talking about old men in fanfiction, and I decided to write about it. It's not medically accurate. But it's with Robby lol
The first time it happens, it's… very embarrassing.
You're in a mating press position, fingers tangled in Robby’s hair, anticipation humming in your veins. You're ready and horny. But you're also waiting for a while for something to happen.
Between Shifts
A collection of scenes while you and your boyfriend, Dr. Robby, are on different shifts.
*****
Shift One You unlock the door quietly, toeing off your shoes the second you’re inside.
The first thing you notice is the smell.
Coffee.
Strong. Fresh. Comforting.
You follow it into the kitchen, where Robby is already halfway dressed for his day shift, jacket draped over the back of a chair, travel mug in hand. He looks tired, but when he sees you, his whole face softens.
“There you are,” he says, smiling. “I thought Jack was doing handoff.”
“He is,” you say, dropping your bag by the door. “I just… couldn’t wait. I needed a shower before I fell over.”
He steps closer, then pauses, nose wrinkling just slightly.
You sigh. “Yeah. That’s me.”
He laughs quietly. “Rough night?”
“You could say that,” you say. “I got thrown up on three times.”
His eyebrows shoot up. “Three?”
“Three,” you confirm. “Peds. GI bug. Absolute nightmare.”
He shakes his head, already moving toward you. “Come here.”
You back up, holding your hands out. “No, no. I’m gross. Do not come any closer.”
He ignores you completely.
Robby steps into your space anyway, close enough that you can feel his warmth, close enough that exhaustion and comfort and missing him all blur together.
“You didn’t throw up, though,” he says softly, lips just a breath away from yours. "Right?"
“No,” you whisper.
That’s all he needs.
He kisses you, gentle, familiar, grounding. The kind of kiss that says I’ve got you more than anything else.
When he pulls back, he rests his forehead against yours for a second.
“Go,” he says softly. “Get that shower. I’ll see you in twelve hours.”
You smile, tired and warm and a little lighter just from seeing him.
“Twelve hours,” you repeat.
It’s not enough.
*****
Shift Three
You open the front door just as Robby is about to slide his key into the lock.
For a second, you just look at him.
Red-rimmed eyes. Shoulders tight. That hollow, exhausted look that tells you this wasn’t just a long shift, it was a hard one.
“Hey, baby,” you say softly.
It’s immediate. His shoulders drop just an inch. Like he didn’t even realize how tightly he was holding himself together until he heard your voice.
“You’re late,” he mutters. “Or… gonna be.”
“Jack won’t mind,” you say gently as the two of you automatically trade places in the doorway. “Are you okay?”
“Fine,” Robby snaps, too fast, too sharp.
You frown.
Before he can turn away, you catch his chin, forcing him to look at you.
“Robby…”
He exhales through his nose, jaw tight. “My mess will still be there when you get there,” he says. “I’m sure Jack is cursing my name right now.”
Your hand drops to his chest. You feel his heart under your palm. It's fast, heavy, tired.
You want to stay. You want to pull him in, make him sit, make him talk, make it better.
But the pager on your hip is a reminder.
You’re needed.
“Get a shower,” you say softly. “I left a plate for you in the fridge. Eat something. Get some rest.”
He nods, eyes softening just a little. “Yeah.”
You lean in and press a quick kiss to his cheek, not enough, never enough.
“I’ll see you later,” you say.
He watches you go, and for a moment, it feels like the hardest part of the shift isn’t the patients.
It’s walking past each other like this, loving each other in doorways. *****
Shift Six
Your phone buzzes against the counter.
Robby: You okay?
You glance at the clock. Way too late for him. Way too early for you to be anything but tired.
You: You should be asleep.
Robby: I was. Then I wasn’t.
You smile softly, thumbs moving.
You: That’s not how sleep works, doctor.
Robby: It is when you’re not in my bed.
You bite your lip.
You: Robby. Go to sleep.
Three dots appear. Disappear. Then reappear.
Robby: I miss you.
Your chest tightens.
That’s what does it.
You slip out into the ambulance bay, the cool night air wrapping around you as you hit call.
He answers on the second ring.
“Hey,” he says, voice low, tired.
"Hi," you whisper back.
“Do I sound as pathetic as I feel?” he asks quietly.
You laugh softly, even though your throat feels thick. “No. You sound like someone who loves his girlfriend.”
There’s a pause.
“I love you,” you say. “And I am never doing night shift again.”
That earns a small, tired chuckle. “Noted.”
You take a moment to breathe in the air.
“Jack says you’re the best resident he’s had,” Robby adds.
“I don’t sleep with Jack,” you shoot back. “And I miss the man I’m supposed to sleep next to.”
Robby goes quiet.
Not awkward quiet.
Heavy quiet.
Finally, he exhales. “One more week.”
“One more week,” you agree.
In the distance, you hear it, the wail of an incoming ambulance.
Your shoulders tense.
“I have to go,” you say softly. “Please try to sleep.”
“I will,” he promises. “Be safe.”
“Always,” you say. “I love you.”
“I love you,” he says back.
You hang up, heart full and aching at the same time.
One more week.
*****
Shift Nine
The door barely clicks shut before Robby’s hands are on you.
He pulls you in, backing you up against the door, kissing you like he’s been holding it together all night and finally ran out of restraint. It’s desperate and familiar all at once. The kind of kiss that says I missed you more than anything else.
You melt into it for half a second before reality cuts in.
“Robby,” you mumble against his mouth. “I probably smell like antiseptic and coffee.”
“I don’t care,” he says, kissing you again anyway.
And honestly? You don’t either.
A week of passing each other in doorways, of texts and quick pecks and missed sleep, you’re both touch-starved. His hands are warm, grounding, holding you like he needs to remind himself you’re real.
But your brain does the math.
“Hand-off in ten,” you say softly, pulling back just enough to look at him. “And it’s a fifteen-minute walk.”
He groans quietly, dropping his forehead to yours.
“Fuck,” he breathes.
You wrap your arms around his neck anyway, holding him there for one more second. One more stolen moment.
“Have a good shift,” you say, kissing his chin, soft and lingering. “Save lives. Be brilliant.”
He squeezes you once, like he’s trying to memorize the feel of you.
“Always,” he says.
Robby grabs his bag, opens the door, then pauses, looking back at you like he’s already counting down the hours until he gets back.
You stand there, watching him go.
Three more nights. *****
Your last night shift finally ends.
You make it back to Robby’s apartment on pure muscle memory, having seen him briefly at PTMC. You shower, eat ice cream straight from the carton, then collapse into bed without even setting an alarm.
For the first time in two weeks, there’s no countdown.
No timer.
No pager.
Just sleep.
When you wake, there’s a warm body next to you.
It takes a second to register that it’s nine at night and that Robby is home.
He smells clean, freshly showered, familiar in the way that makes your chest ache a little. You lean in and kiss his cheek, then his jaw, soft and slow until he stirs.
“M’trying to sleep, woman,” he mumbles, voice thick with exhaustion.
You smile, pushing him gently onto his back and settling over him, playful and warm and finally unrushed.
“Are you off tomorrow?” you ask.
He groans quietly but his hands come to your hips automatically, grounding, familiar.
“Yeah,” he says, blinking his eyes open.
“Me too,” you say, smiling. Then, softer, sweeter: “And I’m back on day shift.”
His hands tighten just a little.
“Where you fucking belong,” he says.
“Jack’s sad,” you smirk.
Robby huffs out a tired laugh and pulls you closer, tucking you back under him.
“Like you said,” he murmurs. “You’re not sleeping with Jack.”
You settle into him, warmth and relief and finally being on the same schedule again washing over you.
No timers. No doorways. No stolen minutes.
Just you. Just him.
My Lists of Wants - Dr. Robby x Female Reader
Summary - After a bad case and Robby ignoring you, you set the tone for what you want from him as an apology.
Masterlist
******
You find Robby the way you always do when things fall apart, by instinct.
Your hands are still shaking. There’s dried blood under one fingernail you missed scrubbing out. The patient’s face keeps flashing in your mind, the sound they made when the monitor flatlined looping no matter how hard you try to breathe through it.
Robby’s at the desk, charting. Jaw tight. Eyes distant.
You step closer. “Robby?”
He doesn’t look up. “Not now.”
It’s not sharp. Not cruel. Just… absent.
Something in your chest cracks anyway.
“I just—” Your voice falters. You swallow. “I had a rough one.”
He exhales, rubbing his temple. “I can’t do this right now. I’ve got Gloria in my head and—”
That’s it.
That’s all.
You nod once. Professional. Controlled. The way you’ve learned to be.
“Okay,” you say quietly.
And you walk away before he can see your face fall apart.
Dana doesn’t miss a damn thing.
She watches you disappear down the hall. Watches Robby go back to charting like nothing happened.
Then she steps in front of him.
“What the hell was that?” she asks.
Robby blinks. “What?”
“That woman just came to you looking like she was holding herself together with duct tape,” Dana says flatly. “And you blew her off.”
His shoulders tense. “I didn’t mean—”
“I don’t care what you meant,” she cuts in. “I care what you did.”
Something in her tone finally gets through.
“She needed you,” Dana says more softly. “And if you don’t go fix that? You’re an idiot.”
Robby’s stomach drops.
“Oh shit.”
******
You’re in a quiet room with Joy when he finds you later. Teaching her a simple stitch on a practice pad. Your voice is calm. Steady. Like nothing’s wrong.
Robby stops just inside the doorway.
“Hey,” he says. “How’s it going in here?”
You don’t look up. “Joy, keep your tension even. Don’t rush it.”
Joy glances between you two. “Am I… interrupting?”
“No,” you say immediately. Too quickly. “You’re doing great.”
Robby shifts, clearly wanting to say more, but the room isn’t the place. He nods once.
“Can I see you for a moment?” Robby asks and you know it’s directed at you.
“Busy, can it wait?” You ask, your eyes not leaving Joy’s fingers.
Robby didn’t say anything. You knew he probably was masking his hurt but you didn’t care at the moment. His eyes would make you cave. Wanting to comfort him would make you cave.
Robby cleared his throat.
“I’ll, uh. Catch you later.”
You don’t respond.
And that hurts worse than if you had.
******
It’s dark by the time you leave. Cold. Quiet.
You’re halfway to your car when you hear footsteps.
“Hey.”
You turn. Robby’s there, hands shoved into his jacket pockets, eyes searching your face like he’s been holding his breath all evening.
“I’m sorry,” he says immediately. “I wasn’t there when you needed me.”
You shrug, exhaustion heavy in your bones. “I’m just tired.”
He steps closer. “You don’t have to pretend with me.”
You finally look at him. Really look.
“I already forgave you,” you say softly.
“You…did?” Robby seemed to relax his shoulders slightly.
You nod. “I love you. I know you were in your head.”
That almost makes it worse.
Robby exhales shakily. “What can I do?”
You think for half a second.
“I want pizza,” you say.
“Consider it ordered.” Robby already had his phone out.
“I want a shower.” Biting your lip.
“I’m sure we both stick,” he muttered as he finished the order.
“And honestly?”
Robby looked back into your eyes.
“I’d really appreciate it if you fucked me to where I couldn’t walk straight,” you whispered but didn’t let your voice shake.
The silence between you is thick. Charged.
He nods once. “I can do that.”
“You sure?” You ask.
Robby stepped next to you, making you lean your head back to look at his face.
“Be a honor,” he smirked.
You barked out a laugh and shook your head, pushing him gently against his chest. Robby grabbed your arms and pulled you into a hug. His lips found your forehead.
“I love you,” he mumbled against your skin.
You hug him tight. His hands roamed over your back soothingly.
“You wanna talk about it?” He asked.
“No,” you sigh. “I told you what I wanted.”
“You know what I mean,” Robby reaches up and makes you look at him. “You okay?”
Your eyes got teary as you thought about your day. Mix that with Robby holding you and it was a lot. But the day was over and he was here and agreed to your wants.
“I will be,” you said softly.
Robby leaned down and kissed you.
“Let’s go home,” he said.
Robby was standing in the driveway, hands on his hips and glaring at the useless motorcycle that sputtered its last few breaths a few minutes ago.
“Oh no. It’s not working,” you said in the most I-don’t-give-a-fuck voice you could muster.
“Anyway,” you lifted the thermos in your hand to sip hot tea as Robby turned his head slowly to squint at your nonchalant behavior. “Ah. That’s damn good tea.”
“What did you do?”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
He shook his head and gritted his teeth as you walked away from him, pointing your keys at your car to unlock it, the beep! mocking him in his head.
“We have security cameras! I can check what you did last night!” He yelled at your retreating form, rubbing the back of his neck in distress.
“Happy to see you at work if you wanna walk instead, Robinavitch! Some low impact cardio will be good for you!”
robby looks soooooooo husband this season. thinking dad!robby thoughts again with his lil baby. and he spends his sabbatical with his lil family instead of killing himself taking baby on her first vacation to the beach putting her lil feet in ocean dressing her in a cute little matching swimsuit and big ol sun hat. seeing him actually relaxed for once.
It was supposed to be her day off.
That was the part that made it worse.
She’d picked up the shift because someone called out. “It’ll be fine,” she’d said that morning, kissing Robby quickly before heading out. “Half day. Easy.”
It was not easy.
Robby was halfway through folding laundry when his phone buzzed.
Jack.
He frowned immediately. Jack didn’t call him unless something was wrong—or hilarious.
He answered. “What happened?”
There was a sigh on the other end. “She’s finishing up charting. Don’t tell her I called.”
Robby’s chest tightened.
“What happened?” he repeated, quieter now.
Jack lowered his voice. “Peds code. Didn’t make it. She was primary. Parents were…” He trailed off. “It was bad, Rob.”
Silence.
“She’s holding it together,” Jack continued gently. “But you know that look she gets? The ‘I’m fine’ one?”
Robby closed his eyes. He knew it.
Too well.
“Thanks for telling me,” he said.
“Yeah. Just… maybe don’t let her cook tonight. Or think. Or exist too much.”
“I won’t.”
By the time she pulled into the driveway, the porch light was already on.
She sat in the car for a minute.
Just breathing.
Her hands were still shaking slightly, like her body hadn’t realized it was safe to stop yet.
When she finally walked in, the house smelled like garlic and rosemary. Soft music was playing. The lights were dim—not dark, just warm.
Robby was in the kitchen.
He looked up immediately.
And that was it.
That was all it took.
Her chin wobbled.
He didn’t ask a single question. Didn’t say how was your shift? Didn’t say are you okay?
He just walked to her.
Slowly.
Carefully.
Like she might shatter.
“Hi,” he said softly.
That did it.
Her bag slid off her shoulder and hit the floor as she folded into him.
He caught her instantly, arms wrapping tight around her, one hand cradling the back of her head, pressing her face into his chest.
“I’ve got you,” he murmured into her hair.
She didn’t even realize she was crying until she felt his shirt damp under her cheek.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered automatically.
“For what?” His voice sharpened just slightly. Protective. “You don’t apologize for having a heart.”
She swallowed hard.
“I couldn’t—” Her voice broke. “I couldn’t fix it.”
He exhaled slowly, steadying himself. He’d had those days. Too many of them.
“I know,” he said quietly. “I know.”
He didn’t offer platitudes. Didn’t say you did your best. Didn’t say it wasn’t your fault.
He just held her.
Because sometimes that was the only thing that helped.
A few minutes later, he gently guided her to the couch.
“Shoes,” he said softly, kneeling in front of her.
She blinked at him. “Robby—”
“Shh.”
He untied them carefully, sliding them off, then peeled her socks away like she’d just run a marathon. His hands were warm and steady and grounding.
“You eat today?” he asked quietly.
She hesitated.
He raised an eyebrow.
“…half a granola bar.”
He sighed, but there was no frustration in it. Just care.
“Okay.”
He disappeared into the kitchen and came back with a bowl already made—pasta, something simple, something warm. A glass of water. He sat beside her instead of across from her.
“Small bites,” he said gently.
She obeyed without thinking, because she was too tired not to.
Halfway through, her hand started trembling again.
He noticed immediately.
He always did.
He set the bowl aside and turned toward her fully.
“Come here.”
She shifted, curling into him this time on the couch. He pulled a blanket over her legs and wrapped both arms around her, anchoring her against his chest.
His hand rubbed slow circles on her back.
“You don’t have to be strong here,” he murmured into her hair.
Her breath hitched.
“I know you can be,” he continued softly. “I know you are. But you don’t have to be with me.”
Her fingers curled into his shirt.
“I keep seeing their faces,” she whispered.
He tightened his hold just slightly.
“I know,” he said. “It’ll fade. Not all the way. But enough.”
She buried her face into his chest again, breathing him in. Laundry detergent. Rosemary. Him.
After a while, her crying slowed. Then stopped.
Her body went heavy against him.
He kept rubbing her back long after she fell asleep.
When she stirred an hour later, disoriented, she found herself tucked into their bed.
Robby was beside her, propped up against the headboard, reading.
“You carried me,” she mumbled.
He glanced down, smiling softly. “You weigh, what, twelve pounds? Please.”
She almost smiled.
Almost.
His expression softened immediately again.
He set the book aside and brushed hair away from her face.
“Shower's ready,” he said gently. “I turned it on so it’s warm. I’ll sit in there with you. You don’t have to talk.”
Her throat tightened.
“You don’t have to fix me,” she whispered.
“I’m not fixing you,” he replied. “I’m taking care of you.”
There was a difference.
She studied him for a moment.
“How did you know?” she asked quietly.
He hesitated.
“…Jack.”
Her lips parted slightly.
“He worries about you,” Robby said. “So do I.”
She reached for him this time, sliding her arms around his waist.
“Thank you,” she whispered.
He pressed a kiss into her hair.
“Rough shifts don’t get to follow you home,” he said quietly. “Not when I’m here.”
And he meant it.
inspired by this post by @pagingdrrobbyxo
—
The ER was chaos.
It usually was—but tonight felt louder somehow. Monitors beeping, stretchers rolling, someone shouting for respiratory. You were at the nurses’ station, charting quickly before heading back into a trauma bay.
You wore your hearing aids at work. You always did. They didn’t make everything perfect—but they helped. Enough to catch your name being called. Enough to feel steady in the storm.
You were mid-sentence with a resident when it happened.
The sound thinned.
Not gradually.
Just—gone.
The faint background hum you’d grown used to disappeared. The resident’s mouth was still moving, but the rhythm was off. Wrong. Like a movie playing on mute.
Your stomach dropped.
No. No, no—
You tapped behind your ear discreetly. Nothing. You pressed the little button.
Dead.
Across the station, Robby looked up.
He’d been pretending to review labs. In reality, he’d been watching you the way he always did—subtle, careful, protective without being suffocating. Years together had trained him to notice the smallest shift in you.
And you had shifted.
You went still. Too still.
He was at your side in seconds.
“Hey,” he said, but you didn’t react.
His heart lurched.
You looked up at him, and he saw it—the flicker of panic you tried to hide. Your hand moved slightly toward your ear.
Oh.
Oh.
His expression softened immediately.
Without hesitation, he stepped into your line of sight and gently touched your wrist—not to startle you, just to anchor you. When you focused on him, he began signing.
Battery?
Your shoulders sagged in relief. You nodded.
Dead.
He nodded once. Calm. Steady. The same way he was during codes.
Okay. I’ve got you.
The tension in your chest loosened.
He switched fully into ASL without thinking, his hands fluid and sure. He’d learned for you years ago—not because you’d asked, but because he wanted to be part of your world completely. Late nights at the kitchen table. Flashcards stuck to the fridge. Practicing in the mirror.
He had once told you, “I never want you to feel alone in a room I’m standing in.”
Now he signed:
Stay with me. We’ll get batteries.
You signed back, a little flustered:
I have patients.
He gave you that look. The one that said I know you. I know your stubborn streak.
Two minutes. Jack can cover.
As if summoned, Jack wandered over. “Why do you two look intense? Is this a lovers’ quarrel or—”
Robby didn’t even turn. He just signed to you:
I’ll explain to him.
Then he finally looked at Jack. “Her hearing aid battery died. I need you to cover Bay Three for five.”
Jack blinked. “Oh. Oh! Yeah. Yeah, obviously.”
Robby was already signing again.
Okay?
You hesitated, then nodded.
He guided you gently—not grabbing, not pushing—just a warm hand at your lower back so you could follow the direction. The world felt disorienting without sound. Smaller. Further away.
He noticed.
He always noticed.
Once you were in the staff room, he crouched slightly so you could see him clearly, signing slower now.
You’re safe. It’s just the battery.
You exhaled shakily.
He reached into his locker—because of course he had extras. He always carried extras. In his bag. In his locker. In the glove compartment of his car.
You’d teased him about it once.
He’d shrugged and said, “Preparedness is attractive.”
Now he handed you the small pack like it was the most precious thing in the world.
Your fingers brushed his. You signed softly:
Thank you.
His expression softened in a way that still made your heart flip, even after years.
Always.
You swapped the battery out carefully. There was a tiny click.
Then—
Sound rushed back in. Faint at first. The hum of the ventilation. Distant footsteps. Robby’s quiet breath.
You looked up at him.
“Better?” he asked aloud, but he signed it too.
You smiled. “Yeah. Better.”
Relief washed over his face so openly it made your chest ache.
He leaned forward, pressing his forehead gently to yours. “You scared me for a second.”
You laughed softly. “You realized fast.”
He gave you a small shrug. “You went quiet.”
You raised an eyebrow. “I’m deaf, Robby.”
He huffed a quiet laugh. “You know what I mean. You went still. You always go still when something’s wrong.”
You looked at him for a long moment.
Years together. Years of him learning your cues. Years of him stepping into your line of sight instead of calling your name. Years of him signing “I love you” across crowded rooms.
You signed it now.
I love you.
He didn’t even hesitate.
I love you more.
Then, because he was him, he added aloud, “And I’m still putting battery checks on our shared calendar.”
You groaned. “You are not.”
He grinned. “Already did.”
You rolled your eyes—but you were smiling as he took your hand and led you back into the noise of the ER.
This time, the world sounded right.
And even if it hadn’t—
He would’ve stayed in your silence with you.
Hiii love how open you are to writing about certain things!! I would like to request for Robby can you do where reader is a nurse and kinda the same story a Dana where a patient attacks her. Robby and reader are married if possible thank you!!
A/N: hi! Thank you so much. This is my very first request. I hope I did it justice!
Warnings: none!
Summary: Amid the chaos of the ER, you’re the one injured — and Robby, both your husband and your fellow coworker, drops everything to stabilize you before anyone else can.
the way i eat up every tiny bit of new information about robby like it’s a revelation. like what do you MEAN he can’t stand being alone to the point that he sleeps with the tv on???? this lore
Hi I have an ask,
Reader is a pediatric doctor at ptmc and is deaf, she has been with robby for years to the point were people just brush off the way they act around eachother ( very goofy and flirty) but when the new med students come in they are confused and bewildered by it.
One day readers hearing aid battery dies midshift and she doesnt have a spare one, but remembering robby does she goes down to the pitt, only to be met by an over eager med student who doesnt understand boundaries, reader tries to get away from them which only agitas the med student more, Dana sees reader and finally shoos away the med student, Dana goes and finds robby who gives her the battery and all is well and it ends fluffy and cute
A/N: hi! This was such a cutie request. I hope I did a good job. 
Warnings: Ogilvie (yes, he deserves a warning)
Summary: Deaf!Reader’s hearing aids cut out mid-shift, and as always, Dr. Robinavitch is ready with a spare battery before she even has to ask.
Michael Robinavitch with erectile dysfunction with a partner who fully accepts (and loves) it.
You've clearly had a rough day, if the way you slam the front door is any indication. Robby quickly turns the volume down on the game he’s watching to call out, “Baby, you okay?”
No response. Instead, Robby is met with a torrent of angry footsteps. You step into the living room with a scowl. “Take off your pants,” you grunt.
“What?”
You pull your scrub top off over your head and shuck your pants off as you stomp over. “Take off your fucking pants, Michael. Underwear, too.”
“I didn’t take anything. I can't get-"
“I don’t give a fuck.”
You drop to your knees in front of him, making quick work of unbuttoning his pants and fishing his soft cock out of the confines of his boxers.
"What are you doing?" Robby asks, squirming at the feeling of your hand around his flaccid cock.
"Stress relief, baby. I need this," You bring his tip to your mouth, "Keep watching your game."
And then, you suck his soft length into your mouth. It takes a great deal of effort for him not to buck his hips into your face. Instead, he settles on gasping out, "Oh- hah -okay baby. That's- wow -okay."
You shut your eyes and hum around him. The vibrations feel like utter heaven, and as Robby looks down at you, a pretty young thing on your knees for him, he has but one thought-
He could get used to this.
“this is dr. michael robinavitch, i am the chief of emergency medicine at PTMC. if you fire her, she will sue you and i will testify on her behalf.”
robby hangs up the patient’s phone and hands it back to her with a gentle smile.
“okay. don’t worry about it, we got you.”
you hide your growing smile behind the monitor you’re working at.
it’s later on when you manage to catch robby, grabbing his hand and leading him into an empty hallway. you pull him into a searing kiss, his back landing against the wall as he laughs against your lips.
“what’s got you so needy, honey?”
“you,” you say in between kisses. “what you said to that patient’s boss, it was so hot. even dr. al-hashimi looked like she wanted to jump your bones.”
“there’s only one person i want jumping my bones.”
you gasp as he spins the two of you around so he has you pinned against the wall, lips immediately finding home on yours.
“and the long sleeves,” you add. “they’re working for you.”
“yeah?” he presses soft kisses against your jawline. “tell me more.”
“i’d rather show you tonight.” you press yourself against him, a groan escaping him.
“i’m leaving tonight.” robby presses his forehead to yours.
you try to ignore the sinking feeling in your stomach, “i know. leave an hour later.”
he doesn’t respond, capturing your lips again.
