on repeat ♫ : Anything that reminds me of dr robinavitch
current read 📰⭑.ᐟ : slump
watching ⎚ : The Pitt (r), Fleabag (r)
writing ✎ᝰ: the pitt, criminal minds, x-men
requests are open! | masterlist
interests: ethel cain, hozier, jeff buckley, nathanial young, yoga, 38 special, al green, doctor who, criminal minds, the pitt, heated rivalry, ovid, coleridge, learning how to fucking DRIVE, fleabag, x-men, the morbid longing for the picturesque at all costs (tsh), dostoyevsky, seasonal depression, substack, philosophy, yoga, getting buff so i can flex on the men in my life and bag baddies
series masterlist | normal masterlist (requests are open for both!)
[CW: broken bones, broken hearts, sad!robby, fem!reader - no physical description, mentions of reader's ex, trinity santos being nosy, lets pretend a bookcase falling on your arm would only break it and not crush it, angst, a sprinkle of protective!robby, fluff, no beta we die like men] wc: 2.7k ♫: Everything's Embarrassing - Sky Ferreira
i watched a lot of fleabag before i wrote this so i feel like the style of her internal monologue kinda leached into the style of reader's internal monologue... at least it gave her an actual personality!
You rub your temples, cursing under your breath at your stupidity.
You had the day off work so you were at home all day going mad. Ryan has completely moved out, and you’ve blocked and deleted his number. It feels… quick. Too quick. You weren't ready to say goodbye to him, but he needed to go. Cheating is unforgivable - no matter how much he apologised. But since he has moved out, you’ve started to realize just how much crap he left behind. Whilst you sat eating leftover pasta for dinner, you couldn't take your eyes off a big bookcase Ryan bought. It is an ugly, boxy, ikea flat-pack piece of shit and you hate the sight of it. So, in a surge of confidence, you left your half-eaten pasta on the couch and took the remaining books off the shelves and then attempted to take the thing down. However, fluffy socks and wooden floors do not collide well and you slipped, thankfully dodging the tumbling bookshelf. Mostly. Your arm got trapped under the bastard thing, cracking under the weight of its audacity. It felt like Ryan fucking you over one last time.
So now you’re laid on a hospital bed, arm all wrapped up in a pink cast, waiting to be discharged. You’ve been sitting on this bed, bum going numb, for five hours. Lord knows ER workers have tough and demanding jobs, but damn. Five hours.
You drum your fingers on your thigh with your good hand, humming some song you heard on your taxi’s radio during your drive here. Your phone is dead in your pocket, of course. You’ve been playing too much Block Blast whilst you waited for your X-ray. You chew the skin on your lip, staring off into the distance in boredom. Honestly, you thought you would’ve stumbled across Michael by now… maybe he isn’t working today? You don’t know how you feel about that thought. You haven’t seen him in a couple days, the last you saw of him was when he let you sleep over at his house. God, that was a crazy night. Is it bad that you’ve been thinking about him more than Ryan? The way he calmed you down when you had that panic attack… the way he called you sweetheart and got you to drink more water whilst staring into your fucking soul. Man, that was hot. But you have so much unresolved trauma from your relationship with him that it feels like you’re betraying yourself by having to fight the urge to just jump his bones and let him have you all over again. The man used him being busy as an excuse for not putting effort into your relationship, for gods sake. But lord he did look really good when he knelt in front of you and got you to tell him what was wrong. You didn’t even know that being told to stay hydrated could be sexy.
Your stream of thought gets interrupted by the doctor that has been treating you walking in the room. Santes, was it? Santos?
“Hey, Miss y/l/n, her voice strains as she speaks. She looks tired and like she doesn't want to be here talking to you about your stupid broken arm. "Looks like you're about ready to go, I just need to get your discharge paperwork through." she says, lowering the chart to her side.
Thank god. you think.
"I just need to get my attending to do one last check and then I'll sort those out for you." she informs you, her smile seeming completely superficial.
You give her a warm smile, wanting to be as polite as possible as it looks like she’s had a hell of a day. “Great, thank you so much.”
She nods and walks out the room.
You huff and sit back against the cushion. Why they gave you a whole room for just a broken arm is beyond you. It could've gone to someone much more worthy. However, you do appreciate the quiet.
You’re chewing your lip again when a familiar voice grabs your attention.
“Just in here?” you hear a man say just outside your room. Your eyes go wide when you’re met with Robby, distracted with looking at your chart. You tilt your head, subtly gawking at the way his sleeves are rolled up his forearms and how his glasses are perched on his nose. Fuck, why does he always look good?!
You can tell exactly the moment he gets confused when he sees your name on the chart, looking up at you quickly. His eyebrows furrow in confusion and worry, walking right up to the side of your bed quickly.
“You broke your arm? Why didn’t you call me?!” is the first thing he says, picking up your arm so gently to inspect the cast.
You huff, rolling your eyes and taking your arm from him. “I’m fine, it was just a stupid accident. And I didn't call you because I'm an adult woman with access to Uber.” you retort. "Hello to you too, by the way."
He pinches the bridge of his nose, blinking strongly. “How did you do it?” he questions.
By the time you’ve finished explaining, he has pulled up a chair next to your bed and you’ve swiveled yourself round so your legs are dangling off the edge.
“You moved a bookcase? By yourself? I know you’re strong, but you could’ve asked for help-”
Your eyes squint and you take a deep breath. “Robby, I've not needed help from you for three years. And we haven't exactly got the dynamic where I can just call you up for help anymore.” you state bluntly. It’s true, though. You don’t. You can gawk at the man all you like, but he still hurt you and you’re still working through that. And now that he’s back in your life… it’s taking a lot of effort to sort through the feelings you have for him.
He pauses for a moment, looking at your face as you speak. He knows that your relationship isn't like that, but he’d love for it to be. That morning in the kitchen where it all felt normal… he has been craving that feeling for so long. He thinks it was monumental the way everything just clicked back into shape for five minutes. He hoped that you would feel it too and remember how much chemistry the two of you have. But maybe he was just reading into things.
“You’re right.” he sighs “I'm sorry. But I wish we did have that dynamic.” he murmurs, trying to keep his voice down so anyone walking past the room won’t hear. “I know you don’t feel the same, but I care about you.” he swallows. “And I want to help you when you need it.”
You look at him with sad eyes when he speaks. “Mike- of course I still care about you. But you-”
Santos enters the room with your discharge papers in hand, eyeing the way you’re sat so close and… why is Dr Robby looking at you like that?
“Uh- I have your discharge papers, you’re free to go, Ms y/l/n.” she says, blatantly distracted by the way Robby’s eyes don’t leave your face as you turn to her.
“Ah,” you clear your throat. “Thank you, Dr Santos.” you speak politely as possible, trying to ignore the feeling of Michael’s eyes boring into the side of your cheek.
You watch as she leaves the room, looking over her shoulder once before closing the door behind her.
You turn back to Robby, then you look down at your pink cast. Tension feeling like it's choking you with its bare hands.
“Do you think you could call me a cab? My phone is dead.” you ask, still staring down at your arm.
He sits there for a moment, his hand rubbing the back of his neck, wishing you could have finished your sentence. Eventually, he shakes his head.
“My shift was over a while ago, and the night attending is here anyway. I’ll just drive you home now.” he speaks as if there’s no room for argument, but you still try.
“No, mike, it’s fine. Just call me a cab, there’s no need for you to drive-”
“Y/n, it’s half ten. I’m not getting you a cab at night-”
“You think I haven't taken midnight cab rides before?”
“No, I’m saying you don’t need to now. Let me drive you home.” his voice more firm before dropping an octave. “Please.”
You let the air fill with a charged silence, looking at him with a quirked eyebrow. ‘Please’? Did this man just beg you to let him drive you home? Who is this man and what has he done with the Michael you used to know? You swing your legs slightly, eventually nodding.
“Okay, yeah, sure. That would be great.” Is all you say.
-
Ten minutes later you’re sitting in his truck. It smells like stale coffee and oil and you can see the wear of the buttons he presses most. It’s the same truck he drove away from you in. but it’s older and smells more like him now than you.
Once you’ve sat in insufferable silence for five minutes, you speak.
“Thank you for this, by the way. It’s weirdly nice to be in the truck again.” you murmur, the loud rumble of the engine fighting against your voice.
He nods, tapping his fingers on the steering wheel. “Yeah.” he swallows. "No trouble at all. You know I would've never let you go home in a dodgy cab."
You look from the road to his face, he looks tired. like he's just had a horrendously long shift and now is suffering in a hot steaming pile of tension. The light from the streetlights shine across his face and you suck in a breath at how it highlights his jawline and the shape of his nose.
you hum in reply to his words, not knowing how else to answer.
he cracks his neck to the side, letting a quiet groan out of his mouth. "you know," he starts, his voice gruff as ever. "I've been thinking about when you came over the other night."
your eyebrow quirks and you're suddenly a little hot at the thought of what will next come out of his mouth.
"Yeah?" your voice sounds so small.
"Yeah. I guess I’m confused about why you decided to come to me out of all people." He keeps his eyes trained on the road but you can tell he's fighting the urge to look over at you. to find your eyes.
"i had your helmet-"
"yeah, but you could've given that to me at any other time." he cuts you off so quickly that it seems like he's practiced this conversation in his head.
you sit there for a moment, not knowing what to say. you bite your bottom lip, trying to come up with some sort of answer.
"i guess-" you let out a deep breath, looking down at your lap. "i guess talking to you again, at the park, made me remember how easy it is to be around you?" you look back up at his face, but he just looks more confused.
"even though our conversation was far from easy?" he looks at you for a split second and then back to the road - curiosity and eagerness to look at your face temporarily overriding his road safety.
you nod your head, picking at your nails unconsciously. "Is it bad that you were the first person I thought of?" The energy in the car shifts when you say this. He sits up a little straighter.
"You didn't have friends you could call?" he murmurs, his brows furrowing. looks like he's trying to come up with every reason for why you would go to his house. every reason other than that you still love him.
your eyes brows shoot up and you let out a laugh. "Did you just insinuate that I don't have friends?"
his eyes blow wide like he's a child being caught. "God, no! I was just wondering-" he starts to ramble off with apologies, but his voice catches in his throat when you put a hand on his bicep.
"Relax, Mike, I was joking." you say with a lilt in your voice, still laughing slightly.
He pauses for a moment before speaking again.
"Why do you think I was the first person you thought of?" he asks as if he's scared of the answer.
you shrug your shoulders, trying to come up with an answer.
"I guess... I don't know." you let out a breath, truly stuck on an answer.
"you don't know?" he hums. He's disappointed that you don't have a straight answer for him. But the way your eyes keep latching onto the side of his face tells him that you have the exact reason locked away in your mind and you just don't want to tell him.
"I think you do know. You just don't want to tell me. What were you going to say earlier when you got cut off by Santos?" His head tilts to the side, and his hands readjust around the steering wheel.
your mouth goes dry at that. God, he knows how to read you.
"Tell me." he whispers under his breath.
You fight off the urge to unbuckle your seat belt and jump out the car. You scratch the back of your head and take a deep breath, unleashing the chaos in your brain.
“I was going to say that… seeing you again has opened a tin of worms I fought hard to close? You screwed me over when you left, Mike. It hurt and I had to do a lot of work to keep that trauma at bay… But no matter how much I try to remind myself of how much you hurt me and how much of a betrayal it is to myself to think about you, I can't seem to stop myself. I can’t stop thinking about you.” you take a shaky breath once finished with your paragraph, letting the weight of your words settle on both of your shoulders.
Robby doesn’t know how to reply to you. You just said that you can’t stop thinking about him whilst also saying that it was a bad thing and that it’s a betrayal to yourself… it feels like the definition of bittersweet. He nods his head slowly, staying quiet whilst he processes your words.
“So, what do you want?” he asks a few seconds later.
“What?”
“I hurt you. I know I did. You told me that in the park and rest assured I didn't take it lightly. I want to show you that I am a different man now, y/n. I want to be there for you. To…” he lets out a quiet laugh. “To make you pancakes and coffee every morning and take you on dates and come home to you after work. I want to be in your life again. But I know it’s not that simple.” he swallows, looking over at you for a second. “I would love to see you more. I need to see you more. I want to help you through the aftermath of Ryan and i want to be the man you needed me to be all those years ago.”
You stare at his face while he speaks. Your heart feels like it’s going to explode from his words.
“So, what do you want?” his voice is quieter now, your impending answer making him nervous.
You chew on your lip. This is exactly what you want to hear. Fuck, he’s changed. You lean back against the headrest, looking over at him as he drives.
“I want you in my life again.” you murmur, nodding your head slightly. “We would have to take it slow, but I really do want to see you more, too.”
You watch as a smile grows on his face. He reaches over the gearstick to grab your hand. He squeezes it and brings it to his lips, kissing every knuckle on your fingers. “Slow it is.”
You both sit in a comfortable silence as he drives the rest of the way, his hand never letting go of yours.
OKAY I'VE FINALLY SET IT UP SO THAT THEY CAN FINALLY GO ON DATES AND HE CAN WIN HER BACK YALLLL WOOOOOO!!! Send me requests for their dates and senarios for him doing cute stuff for her!! (i'm running out of ideas) I hope you enjoyed this fic!! <3
series masterlist | normal masterlist
series taglist: @gabs-m, @ozwriterchick, @aceydays1117, @birdiebeesworld, @romancebookreader4life, @thesandbeneathmytoes, @crowclubsugden, @imabapical - request to join!
feel free to request a fic!! i love it when people ask for fics <3 angst/fluff only, please! normal masterlist | fluff: ۶ৎ angst: ☆
dying for you - where robby is at a bar and stumbles across the love of his life with a new man... (part 1 to the series) ☆
if happiness was just an illusion, you were the best i ever had - where robby tries to talk to you again and tell you how much he wants you back... (part 2 to the series) ☆
i hear you, i love you, but my heart it hurts for you - where you show up at robby's house with his forgotten helmet and needing a place to sleep... (part 3 to the series) ☆, ۶ৎ
maybe if you let me be your lover - where reader ends up at the hospital with a broken arm. what will happen when her doctor is robby? (part 4 to the series) ۶ৎ, ☆
series taglist: @gabs-m, @ozwriterchick, @aceydays1117, @birdiebeesworld, @romancebookreader4life, @thesandbeneathmytoes, @crowclubsugden, @imabapical - request to join!!
hey !! just wanted to message saying your writing is AMAZING! (you can probably see the spam likes and comments i’ve done as i’ve made my way down your ex wife masterlist 😭😭) im so hooked it’s not funny
i was thinking for another mini fic for ex-wife series:
reader gets out robby’s wallet, spotting a polaroid of her / her and their kids. the edges of the photo are bent and the paper is wrinkled and it’s so obvious that he’s spent so long holding it. on the back it says something soppy like “keep going for them” - something to just solidify in her that he is really really trying?
aghhhh!!! once again, love your writing! keep doing what you’re doing 🫶🫶
HIIIII!! Thank you so much for the request!!! I hope you like it 💞💞
the polaroid
summary: the above
word count: 600
make sure to check out the masterlist for more toxic content
You were right in the middle of the bustling ED when it hit you: a heart-dropping realization that sent you back on your heel.
“Robby.”
He stopped dead in his tracks at the sound of your voice, turning his head just enough to acknowledge you.
“There’s a trauma coming,” he warned, his tone clipped as he resumed his stride towards the double doors.
“We have tooth fairy tonight and I don’t want to stoo by the ATM,” you blurted out, jogging a step to keep up. “Do you happen to have any cash?”
Without missing a beat, his right hand dropped to his pocket, palmed his leather wallet and tossed it straight your way.
“Grab some for you too. You should always have cash with you.” He ordered.
You caught it, barely, fumbling it against your chest before clutching it tight. You had to bite the inside of your cheek hard to keep a full-blown smirk from spreading across your face. Fucking hot.
Robby didn't look back; he walked straight into the trauma room, wheeling the gurney past the threshold as the heavy glass doors swung shut, sealing away the chaotic hum of the rest of the floor.
You always secretly loved seeing him command a trauma. Combined with the casual, arrogant flick of his wrist that had just launched his wallet at you, you had to swallow hard, fighting for a shred of self control.
Through the glass, he caught you looking. Gawking, more like. A slow, knowing smirk tugged at his lips, followed by an entirely too smug, devastating wink. Then he turned right back to work, extending his hands to guide, to command and—you were entirely, 100% sure—to show off. You loved how big he looked through the glass, how effortlessly imposing he was when he was entirely in control.
And, in sharp, aching contrast, you loved how a man that massive, that dominant, was so completely, willingly used to letting you steer the ship. How he’d yield his power to you without a second thought. He had just thrown you his fucking wallet, for crying out loud, trusting you with everything he carried without a single hesitation.
Taking a long, shaky breath, you flipped open the little leather folder, scanning the slots for a two or a five-dollar bill. There was nothing smaller than a twenty. But as you flipped past the leather flap, something else caught your eye—an old Polaroid your niece had snapped on your last family Christmas together.
Mila was barely two months old then, safely cuddled against Robby's chest, while Isaac stood right in front of you, your hands resting gently on his small shoulders as you all smiled in matching, coordinated holiday sweaters. In the clean white border at the bottom, written in sharp black ink and unmistakable handwriting, were three simple words: Get us back.
Your throat tightened and your eyes flooded with hot, unbidden tears.
“Did he forget to pay child support?” Dana teased, materializing right behind your shoulder with a clipboard tucked under her arm.
You snapped the wallet shut, blinking rapidly to clear your vision, and turned to her with a practiced, bright smile. “I completely blanked on the tooth fairy and was looking for some loose bills. Do you happen to have two dollars?” You grabbed Robby’s backpack and left his wallet in the front pocket.
Dana narrowed her eyes at you, taking in your flushed face. “You’re cryin’ over the tooth fairy? Honey, get a grip.” She wiggled her eyebrows knowingly, digging into her pocket to pull out a crumpled bill.
You snatched it from her fingers, already pivoting away to hide the waver in your expression. “Just charge him.”
Dana chuckled richly behind you. “Oh, I will.”
tag list (tysm!!): @wonwoosthetic @thesandbeneathmytoes @missmillivanilli @honeytii @naked-hyacinth @barnes70stark @ficcyyfics @cafekitchen @proudlyvastlake @l1ttlefighter @genya1617 @rainaris-ac
ohhhhh my god!! this is exactly what i envisioned!! this was adorablee!! the matching christmas sweaters?!?!?!? the "get us back"??!?! sobbing. i loved this!! thank you so much for doing my request!!
i hear you, i love you, but my heart it hurts for you...⋆.˚
ex!robby seeing you with a new man - part 3
[CW: sad!robby, fem!reader - no physical description, cheating - not robby, mentions of depression, angst, hurt & comfort, a sprinkle of fluff, panic attacks, even more mentions of y/n - sorry!!!, a steaming pile of feelings, many swear words - i can't help it, i'm british, robby's big brown eyes (lethal), nail picking, No Beta We Die Like Men, jack abbot, a mention of dana evans]
ex!robby series masterlist | WC: 3.6k
♫: Bloodstream - Alyssa Grace
"C'mere" Robby whispers, standing to the side so you can walk inside. he closes the door behind you, placing his helmet on the floor. you take off your shoes, kicking them next to his. he leads you to his living room, sitting you down on the couch.
"michael-" you whimper, not even asking him for anything.
he kneels down before you, his knees clicking as they hit the floor. he keeps his hands to himself, placing them on his thighs. the way he's looking up at you now... god, it breaks your heart. his giant brown eyes are filled with hurt and desperation. the man told you he still loves you only two hours ago. the wound of you rejecting him is still raw on his skin, and yet he still invited you inside, still let your shoes knock his, still sat you down on his couch, and is now looking at you with all the love in the world.
"y/n, what happened?" he murmurs, his voice low and soothing. his eyes are studying your face, trying to find any indicator of why you came to his doorstep.
"r-" you can't speak, your sobbing turning into a quick hyperventilation. your eyes meet his, a silent plead on your face for comfort. your chest is rising and falling so quickly that you feel your throat burning and your vision gets blurry. you're so focused on your panic that you can't hear robby speaking to you. you reach out for him and he catches your hand in his. he squeezes your hand tightly, bringing it to his chest and placing it over his heart. you blink, vision clearing for a second and you see robby's panicked expression. you close your hand on his chest, clawing at his shirt and pulling him up toward you. he rises to his knees, one hand going to your face and the other holding your free hand tightly.
"y/n" you hear through your hysterics, "take a deep breath for me, sweetheart, you need to stop breathing so quickly." he says so softly that you almost cry harder. his thumb is rubbing over your cheek, wiping away your tears.
you do as he says, taking one shuddering breath.
he nods his head, smiling slightly. "another one, come on now."
you take another deep breath, eventually calming down until you're just crying. you feel lightheaded from breathing so hard, falling forward and sobbing onto robby's shoulder.
he stills, letting you wet his shirt with tears. he knows it's twisted, but holding you again is making him feel like he's home, even if you're currently upset whilst you're letting him hold you. he puts a hand on the back of your head, stroking your hair as you cry. he whispers to you whilst you slowly calm down, saying "i'm here" and that "you're safe here in my arms".
eventually, you sit back up, your mascara has leaked down your cheeks and your eyes are puffy and red. you sniff, wiping your eyes and smudging your mascara even more.
he chuckles, his hands going back to his thighs. "you look like a raccoon" he teases, a soft kind of tease that is meant with no malice, only adoration.
you let out a breathy laugh, your cheeks flushing a bit in embarrassment. "do you- i mean- could i please have some water?" you ask, not wanting to be a burden but unable to ignore the burn in your throat from crying so hard.
he nods, "of course" he murmurs before standing up and going over to the connected kitchen. you pick at your nails whilst you wait, and before you know it he is handing you the glass of water. "never kicked the habit of picking at your nails, huh?" he says as he kneels in front of you again.
you take a sip, his eyes following your movements. you shake your head a little. "no, i guess not." you sigh at the feeling of the water soothing your throat, reaching to place it in front of you.
robby stops you. "nuh uh. drink all of it. it's only a small glass." he says with a hand on yours, gently pushing your hand back to your face.
you furrow your brows a little, holding the glass in front of your lips. you pause, looking at him confused.
he sighs, looking at you with a knowing expression. "you haven't drank enough water today, i know it. you never used to." he murmurs with a click of his jaw. liked it pained him to say it. and it did. it pains him to remember these things about you. how you're chronically dehydrated, how you floss before brushing, how you pick at your nails, how you need reminding to take your vitamins, how you use spoons as microphones and sing loudly as you cook, and how you blush when he'd tell you how much he loves you.
you stare into his eyes for a moment, contemplating on whether to fight him on this. but you relent, drinking the rest of the water.
he watches you drink it, your eyes finding his as you do. and for a moment, it feels like time slows. he's unable to keep his hands to himself when a droplet escapes your lips. he reaches up, his hand finding your chin whilst his thumb brushes over your bottom lip to wipe away the droplet. once you've finished the glass, your face moves into his hand like its a magnet, your lip catching on his thumb, exposing your bottom teeth. you can feel all the air escape from your brain, the feeling of his hand on your face like this again as his eyes bore into yours is not doing your sanity any good.
he takes his hand off your face, a small sigh escaping his lips. "good job." he whispers, wiping his thumb on his jeans.
a charged silence fills the room and you look down at him, panting from gulping down the water. your mouth is open, lips shining. you don't know what to say, so you just hand him the empty glass.
he takes it from you slowly, placing it on the coffee table next to him. he looks back at you,
"i'm sorry i came here so randomly." you speak before he does, your leg starting to bounce slightly. "i didn't know where else to go. i had your helmet and i couldn't stay home-"
"why not?" he questions, tilting his head.
"i- uh." you huff, starting to pick at your nails again. "i found out that ryan has been cheating on me." you say, staring down at your hands.
he shakes his head, his face grimacing at your words. he fights the urge to get up and charge over to your house and kick the shit out of ryan for hurting you. the only thing stopping him from doing that is not wanting to leave you. he sighs, looking up at your face. "shit." he says through gritted teeth. "god, y/n, i'm-" he fights hard to suppress his rage. how dare he do this to you. how dare that bastard hurt my girl. he rubs a hand over his face, fingers squeezing tight on his chin as he bares his teeth.
"i know, 'you're sorry'." you tilt your head, watching yourself pick at your nails.
robby shakes his head again, taking your hands away from each other like he used to do. "no, y/n, i'm fuckin- i'm fucking angry for you." he whispers, holding your hands so gently. it's such a contrast between what he's feeling and how he's treating you. he rubs his thumbs over the back of your hands.
"god- how dare he do that to you-" he seethes, taking a sharp breath through his teeth.
you look up at his face, surprised he's so affected by the news. you know he still has feelings for you, but you didn't realize he still feels so protective over you. you start to tear up again, nodding your head and biting your lip. you squeeze his hands.
"i found a girl's bra in the fucking laundry hamper." you pathetically chuckle at how ridiculous it sounds. "i mean, it's stupid, really. if anything it hurts more that he was so sloppy about it" you speak, your voice breaking slightly. "a fucking bra, mike. it's so dumb!" you laugh whilst tears roll down your cheeks.
he doesn't laugh with you, only staring into your eyes as you speak. he can see how hurt you are, no matter how much you're trying to laugh it off. "how long were you with him?" he asks. it was something he's been wondering since he saw you in the bar last week.
you shrug, letting a long breath escape you as you think. "um, just under a year." you reply. "he asked me out shortly after i moved here. we met at the bar we were at last week."
robby nods his head slowly, his head falling and he closes his eyes as you speak. you've been here for a year?
"he only asked me to marry him a month ago. i thought it was just because he was so in love, but i'm guessing now that it was out of guilt." you speak slowly, feeling your heart break all over again. your eyes well up with a new set of tears, your head falling to look down at your lap.
"i'm so sorry, y/n. i can't believe anyone would ever treat you like that, you deserve the world." he lets go of your hands, his hands going to your face. he brings your face to look at him again. "you don't deserve to be treated like that. i'm so sorry you have been failed again." he murmurs, his hands warm against your cheeks.
you squeeze your eyes shut, nodding your head as you let out another sob. he brings you close, wrapping his arms around you as he hugs you tightly. you melt into him, gripping his shirt and holding him against you like you're afraid he'll disappear.
you stay in a hug for what feels like half an hour. the feeling of him against you soothes the wound of Ryan hurting you now, but rips open the scar of him hurting you all those years ago. your heart is torn as you breathe in his smell, a smell that has barely changed since you last smelt it. he smells like coffee and soap and him. you want to relish in the feeling of him against you now, but it feels wrong. you've spent so long patching yourself up and now you've ran right back to him after getting hurt again. you sniff and pull away, biting your lip when his eyes meet yours again.
"do you want to stay here tonight? you can sleep in my spare room?" he murmurs.
you nod your head, knowing that you have no where else to sleep. "yeah, that would be great if it's no trouble."
"no trouble at all." he soothes.
you lay awake in his bed that night, mind going a hundred miles an hour from processing the day. how you had such a devastating conversation with michael, to going home to find that ryan has been cheating on you, to then running back to michael. and now you're dressed in his clothes as pajamas and you're laid in his spare bed surrounded by the smell of the fresh bedding and a room definitely decorated by robby. you stare blandly at the ceiling. "what the fuck?!" you whisper.
-
michael wakes before you in the morning, getting dressed for work and walking into the kitchen to start breakfast. he pulls a box of pancake mix out of the fridge, remembering that they were always your favorite. he also starts some coffee, filling up the filter with coffee and pouring water over it. he hums softly to the radio as he moves around the kitchen.
a couple minutes later you emerge from the spare bedroom, hair a mess and robby's clothes all wrinkled over your body. he smiles, his heart aching from the sight of you. you look perfect. exactly how you used to when you lived together.
"hey." you croak out, your morning voice not doing you any favors.
"morning, y/n. i'm making pancakes and coffee. you still like pancakes, yeah?" he questions, a hand holding the pan up to show you.
you nod your head, walking to the counter and jumping up to sit on it. "love 'em." you reply, shifting to get comfy. you place your hands either side of you, looking over at the coffee.
"mm, you have the fancy coffee with the filter." you comment, tilting your head. "'course you like the coffee that takes forever to make." you smile, looking at him squirm from your tease.
"hey, if i have the time then i do it. i like how different it tastes." he says seriously.
"mhm, fancy pants." you laugh, kicking out a foot to poke his side.
he rolls his eyes and chuckles when you poke him. god, this feels like normal. this feels so fucking domestic and he's loving every second of it.
"c'mon now, stop teasing or i won't let you have any. hm, 'how 'bout them apples?' or whatever the kids say these days" he murmurs, walking over to the drawer next to your dangling legs, getting out a spatula for the pancakes.
"god, mike, you're acting like you're ancient." you tilt your head back with laughter.
"with this old back? i feel it." he chuckles, closing the drawer.
he watches as you laugh, and he feels so at peace and so like how you used to be that he forgets himself and leans in to kiss your cheek. he stops himself just before he does it, blood rushing from his heart as he pulls himself away immediately.
shit, what did he just fucking do? he stands there so awkwardly that he wants to die on the spot.
"well-" you clear your throat, not making any contact with him at all. "you know i can't survive without my coffee...!" you stammer out and slip off the counter, walking over to the pancakes to make sure they don't burn while robby stands there.
"shit- y/n, i fucked up" robby mutters, scratching the back of his head and then rubbing his face with his hands. he's gone all red and sweaty.
you shake your head, letting out a deep breath in a way to release the awkwardness you feel. "it's fine, mike. really." you say, trying your best to ease his mind. "give me that spatula, would ya?"
he swallows and nods his head shortly, passing it to you. he busies himself with sorting out the coffee, doing yours exactly how you like it.
you both have a very charged breakfast, robby sat simmering in his embarrassment as you eat.
"uhm-" you take a sip of your coffee. "i'm going to go home soon, talk to ryan if he's still there." you try to make conversation.
robby nods, chewing a piece of pancake as you speak. he swallows. "kicking him out?" he questions, taking another piece into his mouth.
"yeah. i told him last night to be out by the time i get home." you say monotonously. "i don't know if he will have listened, though. he might still be there." you mumble as you cut your pancake.
"if you need help, i'm always here. or a place to stay-" robby offers.
"i know. thank you, mike." you say before putting a piece of pancake into your mouth.
eventually, you are both finished with breakfast. and now you're in a weird dance where robby needs to go to work but doesn't want to leave you alone.
you walk into the bathroom to put your clothes from yesterday back on. you hand robby his clothes back, thanking him for letting you wear them.
"yeah, no problem." he murmurs, his heart hurting a little because he wants you to stay in them. he loved seeing you in his clothes, it felt like nothing had changed.
"well, i better be off." you say as you put your shoes back on. "you still have the same number?" you ask.
"uh, yeah. still the same." he replies. "text me when you're home, yeah? if ryan is still there, and if you're ok." he trails off with the last part, rubbing the back of his neck.
you give him a tight smile, nodding your head. "yeah, will do." you stand up straight, going to his door and opening it. "have a good shift. thank you, again, michael." you say before stepping out and closing it behind you.
and you've left. he lets out a long sigh, falling back against the wall. he's starting to question if seeing you again is actually doing him any good. god, he wants you back. but it's going to be a lot of effort. he rubs the back of his neck, baring his teeth as he sucks in a quick breath. he stands from the wall, grabbing his bag and heading out of the door for work. who is he kidding? of course he's going to put in that effort.
-
robby walks through the ambulance bay doors, his bag slung over his shoulder and sunglasses perched on the bridge of his nose. his nose scrunches at the familiar smell of antiseptic and he's immediately met with the loud chaos of the pitt. with a passive huff, he walks over to the lockers and puts his bag and coat away in a crumpled mess.
"ah, here you are." a tired voice comes from behind him. he turns, being met with abbot.
"here i am." he says as he closes his locker and steps away from it.
"so..." jack starts, watching robby walk past him. he keeps up with him and he walks toward the nurses station.
"so?" robby questions, looking up at the board.
"c'mon, man. tell me about how it went last night." jack murmurs, trying his best to be discreet as possible but struggling to keep his voice quiet. he is a gossip, after all. he has been dying to know how the big conversation went between you two, knowing that it meant a lot to robby.
robby huffs, shaking his head. he turns his focus away from the board to jack. "i don't know." he replies, a conflicted expression on his face. "i mean-" he pauses, shaking his head again. "i don't know." he says again, looking down at the floor.
"what happened?" jack asks, placing a hand on robby's shoulder.
"it was weird. we had a... horrific conversation at the park. she told me she doesn't want me back. told me that she-" his voice cracks a little, a painful smile growing on his face as he tries hard to suppress his emotions. "she doesn't love me anymore." he whispers, taking a deep breath. "but then-" his voice goes deeper as he talks, swallowing the urge to tear up. "then she ends up at my door later, crying and needing a place to stay after she found out her boyfriend cheated on her." he looks back at jack. "she stayed in the spare bedroom and then we had breakfast together." he speaks as his eyes go glassy and red. "god, it felt so normal. so good."
jack listens carefully to robby as he speaks, his brows furrowing in concern. man, he hasn't seen robby this beat up for a while.
"and what's happening now? is she still at your house?" he questions, taking his hand off robby's shoulder.
robby shakes his head slightly. "no, she went home to see if her boyfriend has moved out yet."
jack nods, eyes looking around the room as he thinks. "so, you don't know when you'll see her next?"
"no, i guess not. she said she'll message me when she's home." he scratches his beard in agitation.
jack raises his eyebrows, nodding again. he can tell that robby is getting caught up in strings with you. you're sending him so many mixed signals that it's gnawing at his heart. you tell him you don't love him anymore and then go straight to his house right after? that's gotta be confusing.
jack slaps a hand on robby's back. "take it easy today, yeah? seems like you've had a hell of a night." he instructs, not leaving any room for argument.
robby lets out a sharp breath when abbot slaps him, rolling his eyes at his orders. he doesn't say anything, only nodding at his words.
"have a good day, jack. get some rest." he replies, giving jack a queue to stop bothering him.
"yep, good look with the patient in room eight, they like to piss everywhere!" he shouts over his shoulder as he walks away to the lockers to grab his stuff.
-
twenty minutes later, robby's phone dings. he pulls it out of his pocket, leaning on a desk and putting his glasses on. he looks down at the phone, it's a message from you.
Hey, Michael. I'm home now. No trace of Ryan. Hope work is going well. Thank you again for letting me sleep over last night and for breakfast this morning.
he stares down at the message with half-lidded eyes. his heart aches from how formal your words are. he only needs to scroll up a little bit to see how silly your messages used to be to each other. how you used to text with emojis and memes and stupid references to inside jokes.
he starts typing.
No problem at all. Thank you for letting me know you're home safe.
he cracks his neck to the side when he sends the message, a tight groan escaping his lips. he doesn't know whether to message you again, he feels like he's crossing a boundary, constantly asking to see you. you just got cheated on, for gods sake. and you've told him your feelings about him. or lack thereof.
robby stares at his screen for a moment. contemplating the idea of asking if you need any help with anything. or a shoulder to cry on. or food or money or-
"mass casualty coming in in two minutes." dana interrupts his thoughts.
robby huffs, turning off his phone and putting it in his pocket, he adjusts the stethoscope around his neck and rushes off to get ready for the patients.
he'll spiral about you later.
i hope you enjoyed part 3! i might make it into a series of him doing things to try and get you back and ofc help you through the trauma? send me requests for the series!! let me know how you feel about this fic! comments are always super appreciated - i love seeing what you guys think! <3
hi! i’m like kinda assuming this is based on my attempt of hcs w andrew cody, so i’ll just do the same thing! hope u all enjoy!!!!! and thank u all so so much for six hundred! that’s so far beyond my wildest dreams! i love u all so so much! 💕
michael robinavitch who watched jack abbot fall in love with his wife. and he thought that he might get to have that. he tried with heather collins, and then when she broke up with him he thought he’d be alone forever. until he met you.
michael robinavitch who now is greeted at the door with a kiss on the lips and dinner sitting on the table. he insists that you don’t have to, you work in a library now, even though he insists you don’t have to do that either. he’s hardly late leaving work now. he has something worth looking forward to.
michael robinavitch who does not tell jack abbot right away. in fact, he doesn’t tell anyone. anyone living that is. after the end of your first date, and once he’s finished kissing you on your porch, he goes to the cemetery. he groans when he sits down, leaning his aching back against adamsons tomb stone. he whispers to him that this is it, this is the woman i’m marrying. he watches as the branches shake and the stars twinkle their agreements.
michael robinavitch who comes into work with a fresh cup of coffee in a bright blue tumbler everyday. he has an extra thermos full of his next cup waiting in his bag. he’ll probably drink it when he pulls out the fresh cut fruit that you’ve packed for him. they’re in little shapes. strawberries cut into hearts, blueberries on little plastic toothpicks with cats on the end, watermelon pressed into little flowers. every lunchbox is adorned with a loving note from you and a glittery pink lipgloss kiss mark.
michael robinavitch who gets rid of his motorcycle. he trades it in for a sports car that had an open roof. you like to feel the wind on your face, and while he refused to look away from the road whilst driving, he squeezes your thigh when you giggle at a particular burst of wind, and turns his face to admire you when stopped at red lights.
michael robinavitch who used to be jealous of jack abbot. who watched his best friend go home to someone who loved him everyday. michael robinavitch who tried to find that in heather collins. michael robinavitch who falls in love with you and he can’t wait to spend the rest of his life drinking coffee and walking into his home with dinner on the table
michael robinavitch who, when you do get married wears dr adamsons badge in his pocket. when you kiss at the alter, he watches the branches shake and the flowers sway their glee.
what i think jack abbot would be like with a pregnant wife ᭝ ᨳଓ
[protective!abbot, fem!reader - no physical description, reader works at the pitt]
most wanted from this poll! i might have to get pregnant just to get treated by this glazed donut of a man. yes PLEASE. (i really tried to do this justice but i have never been pregnant so lets give me some grace) wc: 386
this man would turn into the clingiest creature on earth. not in an overbearing way or anything, but my god, he would be constantly needing so know how you are. if you need anything, if you are hungry, tired, uncomfortable. he'd read to you to help distract you from your nausea, give you massages to help ease the pregnancy aches, and texts you on his shifts because he can't bare to not talk to you at least once during the twelve hours. his skin crawls thinking that you are alone at home and he's not there with you.
acts of service, acts of services, acts of service!! we know this man would be doing everything around the house despite the pregnancy, but he would really step it up. "baby. baby, no, let me do that." he would say as you start chopping onions for dinner. "it's done, honey." he'd coo when you'd try to get up to do the laundry. you'd find notes around the house once he'd left for work. ones saying that he's got you coffee, ones telling you to go and get your nails done with a hundred dollar bill next to it. he'd get up off the couch in a flash to put on his shoes to go to the store if you said you were craving something ridiculous and he'd eat it with you so you wouldn't feel greedy. you're his queen and he makes sure you know it.
before you went on maternity leave, he'd be extra hypervigilant of you at work. he'd make time for you to sit down for lunch, saying "baby, i know you're capable, i don't doubt that for a minute. i'm just looking out for my girl." you'd roll your eyes in protest only to sit down and realize just how hungry you were. he'd read parenting books in between patients if he had the time. he's determined to be the best dad, but also know exactly how to help you in every situation. if you were needed during a day shift, he'd be constantly messaging Robby asking if you're doing okay and if you need a break or food. he'd drive to the hospital to pick you up after your shift even if his was in 2 hours and he needed to get ready.
i hope you enjoyed!! i mainly read and write for dr robby so this was a first! i really hope i wrote him well enough.
neighbor!reader who loves to take care of harrison when cassie doesn’t have a nanny for him when she gets a call unexpectedly from the hospital. cassie having a sweet young girl in her early 20s as her neighbor, not building neighborhood.. same floor neighbor, wall to wall neighbor. was a college student which cassie expected her to have a boyfriend but reader wasn’t actually looking for a boyfriend (thanks to her lesbian ass)
i just can imagine cassie accidentally meeting reader, in my head cassie lives in an early 2000s structure building, nothing modern, in fact cassie could dare to say that was way more resistant than.. any other building she ever lived or stay. imagine cass getting back from a stupidly long shift where she wanted to crawl to her sofa… CRAWL AND JUST SLEEP THERE but instead she found herself looking at a twenty something definitely… trying to figure out how to make that her slightly tall bookshelf get into the door, which made half of the space of the hallway filled with boxes, some label and other with pink stickers that says absolutely nothing. and hell yeah instead of sleeping cassie ended up helping her sweet and pretty neighbor
need cassie to see my femme outfits and pretty pink heels i would wear
summary: Cassie McKay and social worker! reader have an undeniable chemistry, and their flirtation is palpable whenever they’re in each other’s presence.
pairings: Cassie McKay x social worker! reader. Side characters like Dana Evans are mentioned and involved in the story.
content warnings: zero, nada, zilch
Cassie glanced away from the computer chart before anyone else did. “There she is,” Cassie said as you rounded the corner, wearing a fitted blush pink dress and your favorite glossy pink heels clicking confidently across the floor. you caught Cassie watching.
“…what?” You asked.
Cassie muttered, “Damn,” not even trying to conceal it, which made you laugh. Dana flashed a grin as you two looked at each other. Cassie lingered for another moment before pushing herself away from the nurses’ station. “Don’t you just wear those things to distract me?” she asked.
“I wear them because I like them,” you retorted. Cassie stepped closer, filling the space between you. “Mhm,” she hummed to herself.
“I think you wear them because you know precisely how they affect me.” Her words made your cheeks flush. Cassie’s eyes scanned your outfit with genuine admiration.
“The dress?” Cassie asked, her eyes widening in admiration. “Beautiful,” she replied, nodding approvingly. She gestured towards your shoes, pointing out the heels. Another nod. “My favorite pair,” she commented. Presumably, Cassie’s senior resident walked by, clearing his throat dramatically. You nudged Cassie’s arm, smirking to yourself.
“We’re at work, so behave,” you told her. Cassie merely tilted her head to the side in response. Without uttering a word, she reached over and adjusted your hospital badge, which had become twisted against your dress.
“There,” Cassie said. “And for the record, I always behave.”
Squinting slightly, you shook your head, refusing to engage in an argument with her. “You just want an excuse to fuss over me,” you said.
Cassie replied, “Always,” leaning in just enough for you to hear. “And don’t even think I missed the new lipstick.” She added.
Your hand brushed against your lips. “You noticed?” you asked, a hint of surprise in your voice.
“Baby,” Cassie said, her voice tinged with mild annoyance. “I notice everything.” Suddenly, her senior attending called out for her, urgently needing assistance with a sudden trauma. Cassie rolled her eyes and sighed dramatically. “Look, I have to go. I suppose I’ll save admiring my girlfriend for after shift.” With a final grin, she backed away towards one of the trauma rooms.
Twirling your fingers in the air, you bid farewell to your girlfriend for now. “See you later, baby,” you said as you watched her rush into action upon reaching the trauma room.
i'm a firm believer in slob!cassie mckay. she's messy, cuts her own hair, rarely cooks and laughs when harrison decorates the house with stickers. she's protective of her little family, so she makes sure you know she loves you to the ends of the earth. she gives you notes throughout the day, with compliments which make your cheeks flush. she loves watching you blush, especially knowing that she's the one causing it. once she gave you an antler necklace for your birthday, claiming that she got it because you're very "deer" to her. you laughed, rolling your eyes at her stupid joke. you love it though, and you wear it everyday.
saw a post about how abbot had no character arc in season 2, and how he was reduced to just being a stepping stone in robby's story, so that robby would have someone to lean onto
and really, i think what plays a big part in opinions like this is the person being online and having seen shawn hatosy spoil abbot's backstory of being a grieving widower ages ago
for the general viewer, that was a massive reveal for the character in season 2, on par with the reveal about robby having been abandoned as a child
in season 1, abbot is introduced as grouchy and struggling with his mental health, close to robby, and then we learn he's a veteran, goes the extra mile for patients (the letter, the abortion), seems hyper vigilant (listens to police scanner at home), is a pretty forceful boss (making mohan do a procedure that was too risky for him to do), in therapy, and an amputee. all along the most observant viewer can see he's wearing a wedding ring and would assume he's married
and in season 2, we learn that the way he goes about therapy is more like a smoke screen: checking the box for having done the work, so that people can't call him on it when he's showing signs of clear dysfunction. building on the hypervigilance/restlessness when we're shown that again, he's not resting/sleeping while off shift, and instead he's working off-shift at the Pitt and volunteering for SWAT. that also gives relevance to his army background, as well as his general demeanor at the pitt ("Hooah!", the way he made McKay take a new patient off shift). he instantly connects with Al-Hashimi on their army backgrounds. then, we have the closeness with robby explored: it's clear he's concerned and has tried to talk to robby ("he doesn't like to listen"), which leads to them calling each other out in turn for basically being mirrors of each other, already a theme from season 1. their relaxing totally non-suicidal extracurricular hobbies of: robby buys a motorcycle that he rides helmetless; abbot volunteers for SWAT and gets shot at. abbot's support is genuine, but also everything he says is hypocrisy in one way or another. and then we get the reveal that abbot's a widower, which is something that gives a new layer to every scene we've seen with him: he's been grieving. his ring was a pointed referance to his grief this whole time
and he's a guest star! he has about 2% dialogue on the pitt. i think saying he's just reduced to a shoulder to cry on, well. reduces his character. LOL
if happiness is just an illusion, you were the best i ever had. ⋆. 𐙚 ̊
ex!robby seeing you with new man - part 2
[sad!robby, fem!reader - no physical description, angst, cheating, arguments-?, jack abbot, mentions of y/n - pls don't hate me again, mentions of depression, dana evans, many swear words] WC: 5.3k - oops! this is the longest fics i've ever written!!
series masterlist angst, angst, angst! i love me some sad robby. i genuinely cried whilst writing this, it was fucking brutal. this fic was highly requested, so i jumped at writing it!! i really enjoyed writing this fic, please tell me what you think! <3
♫: Great Expectation - SIENNA SPIRO
Robby pushes the bar door open, walking inside with a plan. he is going to tell you exactly how he feels, how he can't breathe the same without you. these past years have been excruciating. he doesn't know how to function the same without seeing your face everyday. he longs to see the way your eyes crease when he'd tell you you're beautiful. he needed to feel your arms wrap around him again, pulling him into your embrace when he'd come home from a long shift. he ached to hear your laugh when he'd tell a stupid joke. the kind of laugh that was so guttural that it would come out in a crazy squeal, making him laugh and you laugh harder. he needed you like he needed air.
his heart palpitates hard as he looks around the bar, frantically trying to find your face. his hands go clammy, gripping the bottom of his jacket. he starts pacing until he slams into jack's chest, making him stumble back a bit. "jesus, robby. what the hell is going on?!" jack's eyebrows are so down-turned that the vein in his forehead is popping out. he's seems to have discarded the beers somewhere. robby shakes his head, looking over the man. realizing that robby is not going to answer him, jack pushes him out of the bar, forcing robby to look at him once out in the parking lot.
"robby? hm?" he says firmly, trying his hardest to grab the man's attention. "who was that woman and why are you going all mad?"
robby, breathing heavily from adrenaline, looks at jack. he opens his mouth to speak, letting out a long breath of air. he can't get a word out, too focused on you.
"michael. answer me, for god sake." jack murmurs, a hand going to robby's face to make him look at him in the eye.
"y/n. she's y/n." robby pathetically breathes out, his throat burning from suppressing another meltdown. "i- i haven't seen her for so long-" robby's eyebrow quivers and he looks away from jack, pressing his fingers to his eyes to stop himself from crying again.
"fuck." jack mutters under his breath. jack knows about you, of course he does. robby drunkenly told jack all about you one night during the first year of robby moving to Pittsburgh. jack held him as he cried that night, realizing that robby was heartbroken with no one to help patch himself up.
jack grips robby's shoulder, turning him to pull him into a hug. he holds robby tightly, his face riddled with worry. "mike, i know you're wanting to talk to her, but you can't, man. not tonight, yeah?" he murmurs into robby's shoulder.
robby pulls back, shaking his head. tears have stained his cheeks and his eyes are red and glassy. "i need to." his voice shakes as he protests, looking at jack and then at the door for the bar.
"robby, look at me, man." he waits for a second for robby to look at him again. he finds his eyes and squeezes his shoulder. "she's found someone else. after you stormed out of there, that guy she was with realized who you were." he sees robby's eyebrows raise a little and he tilts his head. "i don't think it was hard for him to put two and two together." he huffs. "you going back in there will start a whole thing that you don't want to start tonight. go home, man. she lives in Pittsburgh now, you'll see her again."
robby looks at the ground, desperately trying to find an argument against jack's words, but he can't find one. yeah, robby wants to talk to you, but he doesn't want to become a trouble. he lets out a long shaky breath and nods slowly. he lets jack walk him home.
-
one week later
you're sat in a cafe, a large coffee on the table in front of you whilst you try to read your book. one that you started four months ago, forgot about and now trying to get back into it. you stare at the page, yawning from staying up all night due to newly-formed insomnia. ever since seeing robby at that bar a week ago, you haven't been able to stop thinking about him. it's like just seeing his face has released a dam of feelings that you worked so hard to repress after the break-up. you've barely been able to sleep a wink. ryan has occasionally asked if michael is the reason you're not sleeping, but you've been assuring him that he's not the reason and that you're not getting second thoughts about your engagement. you're in this wholly. especially since-
"y/n?" a familiar voice breaks your stream of thought. you look up, your head tilting up to see robby stood in front of you. fuck, he looks good. all dressed for work it seems, a green zip-up over his scrubs - the sleeves bunched up to his forearms. he has a to-go coffee in his hand and his bike helmet in the other. he looks tired but in a way that suits him. you put your book down next to your mug, not bothering to put the bookmark in. you weren't really into it anyways.
"hey, michael." you murmur, shifting in your seat slightly. you don't know how to respond to his presence. he's too much for your brain to handle right now.
"i've been meaning to call you, to ask how you are. i didn't mean to leave so sharply last week." he talks lowly, not wanting to disturb the other people in the cafe. "i-" he looks at the seat across from you awkwardly. "can i?" he gestures to it. you take a second to think before nodding your head, sitting up straighter.
"i'm glad to see you again." he looks sincere when he speaks, leaning toward you almost like you're a magnet. you look at his face, the same man you fell in love with all those years ago. he has a few more grey hairs and bigger eye bags, but it's still the same old michael. you smile warmly.
"likewise." you reply. "i've been thinking about that night, too. it didn't go the way i would have liked." you look down at the book in front of you as you speak, fiddling with the corner of it until it gets all fluffy.
"how would you have liked it to go?" he speaks at almost a whisper, like he's scared of asking. you meet his eye.
"differently." is all you say... until he tilts his head, waiting for more. you shake your head, letting out a breathless laugh. he was always good at getting more out of you, knowing you're not saying something that is gnawing at your mind. you relent. "i wish you didn't meet ryan like that after we had such a heavy conversation. it was awkward."
robby nods, like he was... disappointed. he opens his mouth to speak.
"i wish that, too. i didn't exactly handle meeting him very well. i think i was too concentrated on that heavy conversation we had. one that i'd like to get back to at some point, if you'd take me up on it?" he states.
"mike, i don't know if that's a good idea, i-" you're cut off by the ring of robby's phone. he grunts, looking down at it and huffing heavily.
"fuck, i'm late for work." he says, fidgeting in annoyance. "i don't want to leave you, y/n, but i need to go." he shakes his head, looking desperate to keep you from being pissed off with him. "please, can we properly talk at some point? what are you doing tonight?" he asks as he shoves his phone back into his pocket after declining the call.
you huff, pausing for a second to figure out if you really can handle having to talk to him again, especially a scheduled conversation. it sounds daunting. scary. something that will most likely make you spiral. however, you do have a lot of "clearing the air" to do with him. you take a breath.
"i'm doing nothing tonight." you mumble.
"can we meet after my shift? i'll be off at seven. there's a park near the hospital..." he rubs his head in search of the name of it, "uh, something like Schen... Schenley Park."
you swallow, sighing and nodding your head. you try your hardest to look indifferent to the offer, but you know that Robby can see right through you.
"okay. schenley park at seven." you nod. he sighs in relief at your agreement.
"thank you. see you then." he says, standing up from the table and taking his coffee with him. he walks out of the coffee shop, the door dinging as he leaves.
great, now you're going to be shitting yourself for ten fucking hours.
-
robby is a distracted mess all shift, his mind completely filled with thoughts about your cafe conversation, the conversation you were about to have, and the conversation you had at the bar. why are there so many fucking conversations?! he runs his hands through his hair, scratching his scalp as a way to let out the energy that his anxiety has accumulated.
at hour six, dana finally gives in and gets his attention. "oi, robby." she shouts to him across the nurses station, grabbing his attention. she watches as he rounds the desk, walking up to her.
"what is it?" he curtly breathes out.
she raises her eyebrows. "what's got your knickers in a twist, hey? you're acting more constipated than i've seen in a good couple fuckin' years." she demands, crossing her arms. she pretends she doesn't see princess leaning in slightly to hear their conversation. nosy as ever.
robby twists to look at her. he thought he was doing a pretty good job at masking his spiral. it was weighing heavy on his shoulders, though. and dana is a very observant woman. so, all in all, he isn't shocked she figured him out. however, it was pretty fucking disappointing as now she's going to be nagging him for answers.
he blows a stream of air out his mouth as he shakes his head, his eyes locked anywhere but her face. "nothin'. i'm all good." he responds, knowing that he hasn't fooled her in the slightest. he watches as she tilts her head forward, looking at him over the top of her glasses with an expression that reads 'do you think i'm fucking stupid?'.
before she could snap back at him, he turns on his heel quickly, running his hand through his hair again and walking away with an almost embarrassing amount of speed.
robby was slightly relieved when a casualty comes through the ambulance bay to keep him occupied. he does question if his relief is somewhat insensitive, but he honestly couldn't give two shits right now.
-
as soon as robby sees jack walk through the ambulance bay to clock in for the night shift, robby is out of there. he grabs his helmet and bag from his locker, slinging it over his shoulder before walking straight through the doors into the cool autumn air. he gets on his bike, driving to the entrance of the park, looking down at his watch. shit, 19:08.
once he gets there, parking haphazardly, he spots you leaning against a lamp-post, picking at your nails. he recalls how he used to have to hold your hands away from each other, reminding you to not pick at them. you always did it when you were nervous. he huffs, getting off his bike.
"i'm so sorry i'm late, my colleague was late to come in-" he starts rambling off excuses
"it's fine, michael. really." you reply, cutting him off and standing up straight from the lamp-post.
he nods his head, relieved that you're not holding the fact that his work got in the way again against him.
"shall we?" he murmurs, letting you walk into the park first. he takes a deep breath, preparing himself for this conversation. he's been thinking about talking to you again for three years. he has a lot to say. once he catches up to you, he realizes that there's so much to say that he doesn't know how to start. there's a painful silence, one that is so charged that he starts to sweat a little from nerves.
"how was work?" you ask, dying to say something to fill the silence. he winces a little, hating that you've resorted to small talk. talking to you used to be so easy, but now everything has changed.
"yeah, uh, yeah it was good. well-" he looks at you, the light from the street-lamps illuminating your face. god, you're so pretty. "it was... work." he gets out, cringing at how awkward he sounds. get it together, robinavitch.
you nod, biting your lip uncomfortably. "do you at least like your job?" you speak, ignoring the mess of an answer he gave. you look straight ahead of you, not looking at his face in the slightest.
he swallows thickly, shrugging his shoulders. "it has its perks. but also it's flaws." he looks down at the leaves he's walking over. orange and yellow scattered below his feet.
"so, you're apathetic?"
"no, not exactly..." he huffs, hating that the conversation is focused on his job. something that he doesn't want to talk about right now. he wants to talk about you. "it's fine. it's good.” he rubs the back of his neck. He lowers his voice, “it's... a distraction." he mumbles.
"distraction? from what?" you look at him this time, your eyebrows furrowing in curiosity.
"uh," he didn't really expect you to catch that. he thought you understood how distracted he is by you. he thought you knew that he's never been the same without you. "i guess..." he doesn't know what to say, reaching for an answer that doesn't sound totally pathetic.
you stop walking, looking up at his face. his pause is so charged that you're even more curious. what is he distracted by? was it you? why is there something within you begging it to be you?
he looks down at your face, a breath escaping him when he finally makes eye contact with you. looking into your eyes again feels like a stab in the heart when he knows that you're not looking at him through the same lens as you used to. his throat gets scratchy, his heart hammering from how he knows he can't touch you anymore. he can't just reach and feel the soft skin of your cheek against his fingertips anymore. he swallows, locking his hands against his sides, ensuring he doesn’t forget himself by reaching for your face anyway.
"a distraction from going back home alone, i guess." he nods, biting his lip and taking a quick breath in. "just, you know, these past three years have been new to me. living alone. i haven't exactly... flourished." his eyebrows crease. he feels like every word he's putting out is not what he means. he doesn't want you to think he's sat alone at home in a silent flat, eating a single person meal on his untouched couch. no matter how close to the truth it actually is.
"right." you nod curtly, walking over to a nearby bench. you don't know how to respond to that. is he looking for sympathy? the thought of him completely alone all sad does hurt your heart, but he chose that. he chose to get in that car and drive to a different state. annoyance grows as you sit down on the bench.
he watches as you sit down, not reacting to his words. he wasn't expecting you to be upset by his words, but he was expecting you to have more of a response than this.
"i mean, i'm fine, though. i have some good friends. jack, for instance. you met him at the bar- well i guess you didn't meet, exactly. more like saw." he starts to ramble, walking over to sit next to you on the bench. he places his helmet next to him on the floor. he doesn't want silence to fall where you both fall victim to painful small talk again.
you look over at him, an exasperated look on your face. "michael." you pull him from his ramble. "are you ok? or are you just saying that because you don't want me to think you're desperately alone like you left me desperately alone?" you sit up straighter, the hairs on the back of your head standing from being so blunt. you can't help it, you're pissed off. you're infuriated by his antics now that you've been reunited by whatever fucking kind of fate finds this funny.
he goes quiet, caught off guard by your frankness. it's coming clear to him now that you do hold some sort of grudge against him. he swallows the lump in his throat. he doesn't answer you, just stares at your face, lost for words.
"you didn't even ask how i was the night we broke up, you know." you stare off into the distance, tears welling in your eyes. "you just let me do it, you didn't even put up a fight. you didn't offer to call more, you didn't plead me to think my decision through again! you just let me do it and then accepted it!" your voice shakes slightly, the volume increasing as you get more annoyed. all the emotions you repressed these past years are bubbling to the surface, coming out in rage and desperation for him to hear you. "you left me alone! you found out you got a better fucking job and you ran to it! you told me that we were forever, and then you just...left!" you're getting so worked up that you stand, walking away from him in a fit of rage, not wanting to say something that you'll want to take back.
robby stands up, not moving away from the bench. he looks at your back, his brain processing your words. shit, he didn't realize he messed up so bad. he didn't realize he hurt you so much by moving away.
"i thought i was doing the right thing by not fighting back when you told me it was over. i knew the long distance wasn't working and i thought you deserved better. i-"
"i did deserve better! i wanted you to become that better! but you never fucking stepped up, michael!" your throat burns from raising your voice and trying your hardest to keep yourself from crying.
robby stands there, his heart thumping against his chest. he shakes his head, his vision turning glassy.
"i couldn't be there for you over the phone, y/n! i had so much going on when i moved here, it would've been different if you moved with me."
"that's your excuse? you were too busy?" you shake your head, laughing out of pure disbelief from his words. "you told me you loved me, michael! that we would get through anything!"
"i did love you! i still fucking do! can't you see that?!" he raises his voice ever so slightly, tears threatening to spill down his cheeks. his hands are shaking from finally confessing what he's been thinking for so long. he steps closer to you, praying you don't step back. but he feels like his heart breaks in two when he watches you flinch away from him, tears falling down your cheeks.
"no, i can't see that." you croak out, your voice breaking.
"please, y/n, i need-" he lets out a sob, it takes everything in him to not step closer to you again. "i need you. i need you back." his words sound so desperate that you can hear his throat tighten. "i still love you. so much." he puts his hands out, reaching for you.
you turn away from him, shaking your head. this is all you wanted to hear from him three years ago. it took you so long to move on, years to finally be able to say his name without your heart burning. it took everything in you to convince yourself that you can move to pittsburgh without the fear of seeing him again. it took so many therapy sessions to work through your fear of abandonment after he abandoned you. you found ryan. he helped you feel more secure. he makes you laugh. you can't throw that all away because michael has told you he wants you back. no matter how much you used to love him. no matter how much a part of you still does.
"i can't do this, michael. you can't say that to me. it's not fair." you murmur, turning back to him. your nose has turned red and your eyes are puffy, but you've stopped crying now.
"it's the truth. it's all i've wanted to say for years." he pleads. becoming hopeless in his efforts to get you to see how much he wants you back.
"you're too late." you reply, eyes fixed on his face. "i have a new life. one removed from the life you left me in." you try so hard to keep your words clear, suppressing the wobble in your voice as much as you can.
robby stumbles back a bit, he feels like you just ended him. like you took a knife and stabbed it straight into his heart. he isn't even angry. he's thankful that you're the one killing him. that you've come close enough to him to push the blade straight through the heart that beat for you. taking away the life from the very thing you own.
his mouth goes dry, his throat scratchy. he stands there, the weight of everything you've said settling on him like a darkness he can never be guided out of. he stares at your face, a face he used to picture to keep him from the ledge.
"goodbye, michael." you murmur, eyes dropping away from his. you turn, walking away from him and out of the park.
once you're out of his sight, robby falls back, his legs giving away beneath him. his back hits the leg of the bench. he settles on the floor, sobbing into his hands as he curls in on himself. what has he done? how has he let this happen? he's such a stupid man. stupid man, stupid man, stupid man...
eventually, robby stands, walking away from the bench that just witnessed the worst few minutes of his life, leaving the park and riding his bike home, completely forgetting his helmet in the midst of his spiraling thoughts.
-
Unbeknownst to robby, you never got far from the park, collapsing against a nearby brick wall. You sob into your hands for what feels like hours, the rushing realization of what you said to robby catching up to you. You did what you thought was right, you put a boundary in place. You did what your therapist would’ve told you to do, for god sake. You’ve kept him at a safe distance, right? No matter how much you try to tell yourself that what you did was right, you can’t ignore the gnawing feeling in your chest. It’s nagging you to acknowledge how much you miss him, how much you loved talking to him again today - no matter how devastating the conversation was.
A rumble against the pavement makes you pick your head up, looking for the source of the noise. Your eyes blow wide when you see robby riding past on his motorbike, no helmet in sight. God, you knew he was upset, but surely he’s not dumb enough to ride home at night without a fucking helmet?! Unable to brush off the feeling of worry off your mind, you get up, rushing to the bench you were at to retrieve his helmet. You find it on the floor, blending into the darkness of the park floor beneath it. You bend down, picking it up. You chew at your lip, your hands wiping the mud off it. Even if you can’t give it back to him right now, it’s better for you to have it instead of it getting stolen.
-
When you finally get back to your house it’s half nine. Ryan is sitting in the living room, watching a rugby match. You rub your eyes, closing the front door behind you. Robby’s helmet still in your hand. You smile at ryan, walking over to him.
“Hey, baby.” he greets you, kissing your lips when you get close enough. “Where were you?” he murmurs. He knew you were out, doing some sort of errand, but you took longer than usual, and now you have a random motorbike helmet in your hand.
“I actually went to have a talk with Michael.” you say, deciding not to keep anything from him. You watch Ryan’s eyebrows furrow slightly, obviously not expecting you to say that.
“Oh?” is all he says, looking down at the motorbike helmet in your hand. “And what did you talk about?” he questions, getting a little angsty from the thought of you talking to your ex boyfriend at night.
You don’t exactly know how to answer him in a way that won’t make alarm bells ring. You bite your lip, shrugging your shoulders in an effort to feign indifference to the matter. “Just things that needed to be cleared up. Mainly for his benefit.” you kind of lie. It’s obviously uncomfortable to talk about your ex-boyfriend with your current boyfriend and soon-to-be husband.
Once Ryan stops asking questions, you leave the room to get ready for bed. You put the helmet on the kitchen counter, leaving it there to deal with in the morning. You sigh, walking over to the bathroom so you can have a shower. You start to take off your clothes, starting with your socks and opening the laundry hamper. You freeze, looking down at the pile of clothes in the hamper and a sliver of bright pink poking out of the top of the pile. Neither you or Ryan have anything that colour. Yeah, you wear pink, but only soft pinks, not bright pink. You reach down, pulling on the piece of fabric. It reveals itself as a bra. A bra that is most definitely not yours. Your movements still, holding the bra up and studying it, racking your brain to make sure you’re absolutely positive it’s not yours and that you haven’t just forgotten about it.
Anxiety builds into a painful weed in your stomach, you keep the bra in your hand, opening the bathroom door and walking over to the living room. You put your hand behind your back.
“Hey, ryan?” you grab his attention, trying your best to keep your thoughts at bay before exploding into a fit of accusations.
He keeps his eyes on the tv, giving you a mere hum in acknowledgement.
“Ryan.” you say more firmly. That makes him look at you. “Have you had any friends ‘round recently?” you ask, head tilting to the side.
“Uh, no. don’t think so, hon.” he murmurs, looking back at the tv.
“Are you sure?” you press, taking a step forward.
“Mhm.” he nods.
“No friends that wear bright pink bras?” you ask, bringing the bra into view.
Ryan stills on the couch, looking at the bra. He goes a sickly pale colour. You can tell he’s wracking his brain to try and explain this. You smack your lips together, realizing that this is exactly what you think it is. You nod your head, rage building inside of you.
“Why? Why ask me to fucking marry you if you’re going to fucking cheat on me, you bastard?!” you shout, pointing at him accusingly.
“Y/n, come on, i’m not cheating on you!” he huffs, obviously lying through his teeth.
“Oh, shut up, Ryan! How else would you fucking explain this?!” you wave the bra in front of his face before throwing it at him. “How long has this been happening, hey?” you shout, your body shaking from how pissed off you are.
“Baby, why would I cheat on you?” he tries to say calmly but it comes out more as a strained yell.
“Because you’re an asshole! It just took me a stupidly long time to figure out!” you yell back, marching over to your discarded shoes to put back on.
“If im such a fucking cheater, then what are you doing with your ex boyfriend’s helmet?” he waves his hand toward the helmet on the counter. You scoff, surprised that he’s taken the focus off him being the cheater and decided to insinuate that you’re the cheater instead.
You shake your head. You can’t believe you trusted this man. You grab the helmet off the counter, walking over to the front door. You turn and look at ryan.
“We’re over. Pack your shit. When i’m back, i want you already gone.” you open the door, walking straight out of it and slamming it behind you. You hear ryan shout something back at you, but you can’t bear to think of what it is. You run away from your house, down your street until you’re out of sight. Tears stream down your cheeks, your heart breaking once again by another man.
Weirdly, the only person you can think of to help you right now is Robby. He was always so good at calming you down. And after today’s conversation, all you want is to see him again.
You pull your phone out of your pocket, searching for the address of his house that he gave you before you broke up. You put it into your maps, a fourteen minute walk. You let out a pathetic laugh between sobs, he’s been this close the entire time?
-
Once you’ve made it to his house, the sadness you felt has turned into pure anger. Your tears are dried against your cheeks and your knuckles are now turning white from how tightly you’re holding onto his helmet. You take a shaky breath before knocking on his front door.
A couple seconds later, robby pulls open the door. He looks so utterly depressed that you have to look away.
“y/n? What are you doing here?” he murmurs, confused by your presence after you just told him you don’t want to see him anymore.
You don’t know what to say, on your walk over here you only thought about how betrayed you felt by Ryan and didn’t come up with a plan of what you were going to say once you showed up on robby’s doorstep. You bring the helmet up into his eyeline, shoving it into his chest.
“You forgot it” you murmur, daring to look back up at his face.
He takes the helmet from you, studying your face as he does. “You came here to give me my helmet back?” he questions, unable to wrap his head around how absurd it is that you’re here. He sees that you’ve been crying, assuming it was from your conversation in the park. But he can tell you’re not just sad… you’re pissed. Furious. With him? Or was this something else?
“y/n, are you ok?” he asks, eyes squinting with concern. He bends down a little, trying to get you to look him in the eye without touching your face.
Just from him asking that, you start crying again. You bite your lip and bring your hands to your eyes, trying hard to stop yourself. Just being near robby makes you feel safe enough to cry like you used to all those years ago. Without realizing, you take a step closer to him, taking your hands away from your face enough to look up at him.
“Mike- i-” you sob, shaking your head.
“C’mere.”
i really hope you enjoyed!! i worked really hard on this fic, i really wanted it to be good enough to follow part 1!! please tell me what you think, comments are always sooo appreciated! thank you to my lovely friend @aceydays1117 for helping me edit this fic!! you're the best <3 part 3
