Warnings: none really. Just feral protective possessive Robby.
Standing there charting his last patients treatment plan when he overhears two EMTs making, what sounds to be, some spicy comments about a female employee.
His eyes stay down, but his hearing becomes laser focused. To be honest? They really weren’t standing that far from him and they were exactly being quiet.
“Goddamn…she don’t even realize the weapon she’s carrying behind her” Fuckboy EMT #1 says.
FB EMT #2 lets out a low whistle and a soft “mmm”. Robby still keeps his head down.
“Imagine those hips, man. She probably rides it like a fucking rodeo” FBEMT1 says with a low chuckle.
Robby hears the obnoxious high five between the two of them. Finally, he looks up. His eyes follow theirs to the object of their lewd affections.
You. Robby snarls. His. Mine.
“Fellas. Don’t you have patients? Other things to do?” He finally speaks up, lifting his eyes to meet theirs and standing up straight and puffing his chest out. Squaring out his shoulders, he moves into their view.
“Hey! Dr. Robby…sorry man, didn’t see you standing there” FBEMT2 says. Neither one of them making any attempt to move their eyes from your ass.
“Don’t. You. Have. Better. Things. To. Do.” He says, trying hard not to bare his teeth like a protective wolf.
“Yeah…we’re getting back to rig in a second, just enjoying the view” FBEMT1 says, with way too much cocky confidence.
Robby snaps his head around, catching you squatting down to get on a child patients level, speaking to them softly to keep them calm, and he looks down, noticing the top lace of your purple panties was just peaking out of the back of your scrubs. His nostrils started to flare when he realized that you could just start to see the ink of your “My Michael” tattoo in soft cursive along your lower back.
He whips his head back to the two pigs, standing there, taking stock of what was his.
“Well that’s my fucking view, so back off” he growls, moving into their vision, blocking your body from their eyes.
Both of them throw their hands up in defense. Smirks growing on their faces and they both chuckle.
“Alright, Dr. Robby…didn’t realize she was taken…point made” FBEMT2 says, finally pushing off the wall to walk towards the ambulance bay doors.
“Didn’t realize a woman had to be in a relationship for a man to not objectify her like a sloppy frat boy in public” Robby spits.
“Come on, Doc. With an ass like that? What do you expect?” FBEMT1 says; snide smirk still stuck to his face.
“Get the fuck out of my ED. Now. Before I have you fucking removed.” Robby is almost chest to chest with him at this point. FBEMT1 takes a step forward and is quickly snatched back by FBEMT2.
“Not worth it, Aaron. This is our job, Man”
“You’re right. Guarantee you she’s more trouble than she’s worth anyways”
Robby’s face turns beat red. His breathing quickens and to any watch watching, it almost seems like he got bigger in that moment. “I said get the FUCK OUT of the ER” he shouts.
Your feet move quickly before your mind can even reconcile what’s happening. Hearing him shout from across the ED set an alarm bell off in your head immediately.
You arrive just as both of the FBEMTs are finally walking outside, 2 putting his hand on 1 in attempt to keep him from charging back into the ED and tackling Robby.
“Michael what…what the hell just happened!” You ask, putting a hand on his bicep. You feel his tense body immediately relax when you touch him. His head turns to look at you and he smiles softly.
He shrugs before walking back to his computer station to finish charting “didn’t like the way they were talking about you” he says matter of factly.
“Alright, Miss Possessive….this isn’t Animal planet. You can’t just bark at any man who looks at me” you say, giggling softly and playfully smacking his chest. He grabs your wrist gently and brings your hand up to his mouth, giving your palm a soft kiss.
“My ED. I can bark at whoever I please” he says just as matter of factly.
“Yeah, yeah, yeah…fucking caveman, you are” you scoff playfully and turn to walk away. You let out a squeak at the swat he lands in your ass. “Robby!” You whisper yell, before walking out of his reach.
He chuckles to himself and goes back to his work.
He can hear the squeaking of the wheelchair wheels behind him and his body freezes.
Pairing: Dr. Michael 'Robby' Robinavitch x Fem!Reader
Pov: Switching POV
Summary: Michael comes home late and shaken after a brutal night, having held himself together by thinking of you. You admit how scared you were when he didn’t come home on time, and he confesses that the thought of you was the only thing that kept him going.
Warnings: Minor angst, Hospital / ER trauma (non-graphic), Emotional exhaustion, Mentions of difficult medical cases, Fear of injury/loss (non-graphic, no character death), Comfort-focused resolution, Slight hurt/comfort, fluff ending, songfic(sorta).
A/n- @ The firefly-graphics for dividers. This is based loosely on the song "Think of You" by Rose Betts
Wc- 2.3k
The Pitt Master List
The clock ticks away loudly on the wall in the living room. Some old thing that you had purchased on a random Saturday many weekends ago. A day when your husband was off, and could finally go out with you without needing to worry about being in bed and asleep before the clock hit double digits again.
With every passing minute that ticks by, your nerves grow heavier and shorter. You know that your husband has a rather chaotic and stressful job, you have a distinct memory of him telling you that another attending from a different floor, and unit told him. “We have schedules. You have chaos.” The only problem is that he should theoretically be home by now. He may be late, but never by more than a few minutes.
Even on his worst nights, the nights when your shared friends, Dr. Jack Abbo,t will send you a message alerting you to finding your husband looking over the edge of the roof. Even on horrible nights where the things around him seem to go out of his control, he’ll take a few short moments and message you. Letting you know that he is, in fact, okay, but a horrible MCI had come through, and that he would be late coming home.
There is a problem tonight. Because there is simply nothing. No messages, no phone calls from his personal phone, nor the phone that sits at the nurses' station. No message from Jack Abbot. It’s causing you to go stir crazy. Your mind is racing a mile a minute, and as much as you’d like to think the worst. There is something in you that stops, so you instead think of distracting yourself for the time being.
You start in the living room, fixing the pillows that are only there for decorations, straightening the blanket that was already straight but wasn’t flat. The mug that had your half-drunk tea ends up in the sink, being thoroughly washed as if the tea will leave a stain in the cup, as it does with Robby's cups. Your phone's ringer is on, set to the highest setting, and sitting in the back pocket of your jeans.
You migrate towards your bedroom, picking up the few random clothes that had been left behind on the floor of your closet. A few socks of Robby’s, a blanket that hadn’t been picked up and put back on the bed in the early morning. The towels in the bathroom could use a refresh. Your walk towards the laundry room is stopped by the howling noise of the wind outside, the way the wind drifts through the valleys of the buildings, screaming past the large windows in the bedroom and living room.
All you can think about as you load up the washer is Robby, and the reasons for his lateness home. His food sits covered with a clear wrap in the microwave for when he returns, the light on the couch side table is still flicked on in case he comes home, and you aren’t sitting there anymore. A small part of you hates that you worry, but another part knows that no matter what, you have to get some sort of rest. Rest that will unfortunately be taken on the couch with the throw blanket over your lap.
The Pitt is a never-ending cycle for Dr. Michael Robinavitch. Dr. Robby can handle the chaos, but today isn’t one of those days. Everything seems to be stacking up quicker than they can get through it. As always, the triage is filled. The injuries range from superficial wounds to broken bones, and the worst of the worst.
It would be okay if the crashing weight of it all didn’t make his chest feel so fucking tight that every time he tried to take a deep breath to possibly calm himself down, he just couldn’t. His breathing comes in short bursts. Robby feels as if he’s run a ten-mile marathon, and still has another ten to go.
The Pitt has kind of slowed down; the wind outside can be heard every time the slide doors open and close from the EMS bay. Robby finds himself walking not up but out of the hospital. Towards the bay doors and out into the windy night. For the first time in hours, Robby takes a deep breath of fresh air. No mixtures of robber gloves and cleaning supplies to muddle his senses.
He’s run his hand over and through his face so many times today that he probably looks no better than a patient sitting in the PTMC triage. When Robby finally finds the brick wall of the opposite side of the bay doors, he lets his back fall into it. His hands bracing on his knees as he takes the next few minutes to try and calm himself down.
He doesn’t try to think about the way work went.
Or how it turned into an absolute shit show in a matter of a few hours.
He just lets his mind wander about you.
Thinks of you dressed in his old, worn-out shirts that are probably ready to disintegrate in the next wash, how you’ve probably been cooking and lounging around the house all day waiting for him to come back to you.
He thinks about that little giggle of yours, that will quickly turn into a chuckle and then a full fit of head tossed back laughs. The type of laugh that makes him laugh is just being near you. Robby lets his mind think about how you feel pressed into his side when you’re both so tired, and the day has drained you both mentally and physically.
Robby lets himself think about how your hand will reach out and guide him home, into the calmness of your apartment, and into your loving arms. He allows himself a few more seconds in the setting sun of Pittsburgh and heads back inside. Letting you be the driving force to get through the rest of the shift.
You’re up before the door even has a second to make a sound, and the throw blanket is literally thrown off of your sleepy frame. You’re jumping up and running from the couch, your knees buckle from the sudden movement, but you make it to the door before Robby even has a chance to twist the doorknob open.
Suddenly, you’re dragging him in; the way Robby stands and lets you drag his body gives it all away. His shoulders are slumped, and his backpack sits heavily on his shoulder. His eyes are cast down, but you can simply tell how tired the man is. His hair is thrown in a thousand different places, and the sudden heaviness in your chest comes along. Making your heart ache.
Robby kicks the door shut with the back of his shoe and stands there waiting. It doesn’t take you long to get the notice, reaching up to press your slightly warmer fingers across both sides of his cheeks. His nose is a bit frosty from the wind outside, and his beard tickles your palms. You can’t bring yourself to care, not when you can finally press your lips into his.
You don’t ask questions, you never do. You know that Robby sometimes needs contact, and other times needs to sit in his grief and pain a little bit longer once he’s arrived home. You take the kiss and internalize it, understanding he’s home, and for now, that’s enough. When you let him go, you expect him to walk away from you and towards your bedroom.
He doesn’t. Robby pulls you back in his arms and holds you tighter than he has in a very long time. He holds you like he’s afraid that when he finally lets you go, he might unwind like a ball of yarn. You can feel the slight tremble of Robby's body against your own. His breath is uneven against your shoulder and neck, where Robby had stuffed his head to hide.
“Robby, I was worried about you.” You say, letting the words vibrate against his wide chest. Your arms are holding him close to your chest. You can feel his breath stutter, “I know, Motek.” He says quietly, his voice trembling a little, “I didn’t mean… I’m sorry.”
The minute Robby has you in his arms, it’s like he’s stepping out of the storm that the PTMC emergency room causes for him. For the first time since he left the apartment 12 hours ago, he feels like he can finally breathe. The tension doesn’t completely vanish, but it loosens just enough. Robby moves his head so he’s resting his head in your hair, and no longer in your neck.
He allows himself a minute to breathe you in. The smell of your shampoo. He closes his eyes and grounds himself in you and the moment. He breathes you in and reminds himself that he is, in fact, home. “You know I did’t think that I was gonna make it through this shift,” Robby admits quietly. His voice was low and gravely as replace the disaster that the day shift had lugged him through. “There were a few moments where it just really felt like absolute hell.” He continues. You hum and wrap your arms around him tighter, trying to take the stress of the day away from him.
“You made it home anyway, so what kept you going?” You ask softly into his chest. He still smells like the hospital. A mixture of alcohol wipes, cleaning supplies, and something that you never really pinpoint. There isn’t hesitation in his voice as he pulls slightly from your hold and looks down at you. “You did, motek.” Robby’s words land heavily and dreadfully; they land heavily on your heart in a way that shows you just how much devotion the man has towards you. “You are my guiding light, the thing that brings me home every night.”
The couch has lost some of the warmth from your sleep. You guide him over and throw the blanket over the top of the couch. You aren’t one to normally let him stay in his work clothes, but today seems like a day when you can let it pass. You settle together. Sure, Robby is a tactical person, needs to always be touching you, and tonight it shines through him. You get comfortable on the couch and drag him into your space. His head is resting on your chest. The sound of your beating heart is calming him more and more. His weight on top of you is a great reminder that he is infact, and nothing horrible happened to him.
You let your hands wander over his back and up his neck until you're scratching softly at the base of his hairline. He hums in contentment at your soft touch. Your touch is slow and steady, welcoming him home into the soft and comforting space the two of you have created together. “You know, Robby, you don’t have to always carry everything alone.” You whisper.
“You can be strong for everyone else, but you don’t have to be strong with me. You can let go, and just be Michael.” He exhales hard, like he’s been holding his breath since he left the apartment earlier in the morning. His voice is low and filled with a softness that is reserved for you and only you. “Sometimes it’s hard…” He whispers back, “It’s hard to forget that I don’t have to be anything but me when I’m with you.” He admits. You don’t say anything, you know that there is something more he’d like to say, and let him have the moment to configure his thoughts.
“I know that all I have to do, no matter where I am, is think about you, and you save me.” You can feel your eye tingle. “You make me feel like I’m not drowning when in that ER, you make the day possible. Because all I have to do is think about you, think about coming home to you, think about being in your arms.” Your throat tightens, and the tears that you thought had pushed down come spilling down your cheeks.
Finally, Robby lets himself rest. Using you as the most comfortable pillow in the world. Your fingers continue to comb through his hair, and he feels himself start to slip. His eyes feel heavy with the quietness of the house. Not the kind of quiet where he’s waiting for the other show to drop, or for the next emergency to roll through the door.
Your heartbeat is steady against his ear, and not only does it anchor him to the moment, but it’s also grounds him in you. Letting you take all the horrors of the day out on him. His eyes are closed, but he can still see the color of the muted TV passing through his lids. “Motek, I was scared today.” Robby finally lets himself admit it after a few moments. “Scared of what, honey?” You ask.
“Scared that I might lose this, or you.” You move your head, letting it fall so you can press a gentle kiss to his temple. “You’d never lose me, honey. You always come home.” Robby tightens his arms around your middle and squeezes, reminding himself that he is, in fact, with you, safe with you. “Oh, motek, I will always come home, as long as I have to come back home to.” He admits.
It’s an hour later when you feel his breathing evening out against your chest, and you know that the exhaustion of the day has finally pulled him under. You pull him closer to you. Holding him protectively from the world’s horrible ways. You love being the only one that bring the man from the depths, even when you aren’t close to him.
The nightlife continues outside your windows, and the wind still howls between your apartment. But outside doesn’t matter when you’ve got your entire world in your arms, sleeping peacefully. Where everything feels warm and safe. The thing you know is that no matter how hard the days get for either one of you, you’ve still got each other, and that’s all that matters in the end.
That he’ll always think of you, and you’ll always be the one he comes home to.
This is my submission for the ADAD2025 event. My character assignment was Robby, color gold, and the phrase "You are the very beating and pulse of my heart." This is a fluff one-shot written in second person, reader's gender is not mentioned.
This amazing event is run by: @letsgobarbs , @clubsoft , @ananonymousaffair
Warning: brief talk of religion (Judaism & Christianity), Robby kissing reader so they shut up, love confession, reader's self-doubt, reader is younger than Robby (no age mentioned), crying/upset reader, verbal degradation, (LMK if I missed anything).
WC: 1,820ish
The Pitt Taglist: @nocturnalro , @mischiefsemimanaged
The first time you see Robby’s Star of David pendant is after he was soaked to the bone thanks to a sudden spring downpour. You shared an on-foot commute. He had forced you to take his slicker when the weather took a turn for the worse two blocks away from PTMC. You were reluctant to the extent that after two minutes of squabbling under an awning in front of a pizza shop, he ended the argument by pulling rank as your chief attending to take the coat. You were now leaning against the wall opposite to the men’s restroom with his phone, keys, and wallet dutifully kept dry in your bag that you were able to squish under his raincoat. While you had always known he wore a gold chain, it was your first time seeing his pendant as he stepped out of the men’s room with it untucked.
He followed your eyeline and tugged it back under the collar of his scrubs.
“Never seen a Magen David before?” he teased, taking back his possessions from your outstretched hands.
“Mag’n?” you questioned. He chuckled at your attempted Hebrew.
“It means Shield of David in Hebrew,” he supplied, once again laughing as your mouth made an ‘O’ shape.
“I’ve only ever heard it called a Star of David.” You explained as you both made your way back to the lockers, “And yes, I’ve seen it before, just not on you.”
“You didn’t know I was Jewish?” he questioned.
“Again, knew you were Jewish and that you always wear a necklace, you just always have it tucked under your collar here.” You defended yourself.
“I like to have it close to my heart,” he shrugged.
“I guess that is a good place as any for a shield,” you replied.
“I’d love to point out you also wear a chain under your scrubs.” He said, glazing over what you said, as he opened the door to the locker room.
“What is this, a ‘you showed me yours, now I show you mine’ kinda deal?” You joked.
“If you wanted it to be,” he replied with a self-assured smile. You playfully roll your eyes as you both finish putting your stuff away. Once you had a free hand, you tugged your gold pendant above your black scrubs.
“Saint pendant?” he asked, peering down at your collarbone.
“Yeah,” you nodded, “St. Luke, I was told he’s the patron saint of doctors.”
“You were told?” he quirked an eyebrow on the way to the hub.
“It was a gift from one of my friends’ family when I graduated from med school. It turned into a good luck charm when I passed my licensing exam. I may not be overtly religious, but it doesn’t hurt to have another person looking out for me, ethereally or not. Plus, it has the caduceus on the back, which feels more secular,” you explain.
“You know I’ll always have your back, right?” While Robby phrased it as a question, it came across more as a statement.
“Duh,” you laughed, hiding the fact that your heart rate had skyrocketed. God, the things this man did to you effortlessly. You bit your inner cheek trying to reel in your emotions enough that you’d be able to focus on anything other than his doe eyes. You knew logically he’d never return your feelings; it’s not that you had low self-esteem or anything, but you were average. You were another attending in the ED; you didn’t think you’d catch his eye; to you, he was extraordinary, and it was improbable that he’d choose to settle for you. Outside of that, you’d reason that if he did have feelings for you, he would have already made a move. You’ve been employed and working in the Pitt for years. You’d met as equals during the height of the pandemic and relied on each other since. Shaking your head, you pulled yourself back to the present as you stood next to Robby, examining the board at the nurse’s hub.
“Ditto, by the way,” you said, not taking your eyes off the board.
“Hmm?” He hummed,
“I got your back to Robinavitch,” you said simply, before he could respond, your attentions were immediately pulled to an incoming GSW, four minutes out. Like countless shifts before, everything begins to blur together as you take on countless patients and aid the students' learning. Nothing out of the ordinary stuck out. That was until it hit 1800, an hour before your night shift relief was to arrive. After doing this job as long as you have, you’d developed thick skin; you’d been called everything in this book twice over. None of that prepared you next patient. She was cruel and pinpoint with her insult; Myrna had nothing on her. After ten minutes of being berated by her as you stitched up the cut on her right hand, you left with a tight-lipped smile, not before hearing her final comment.
“I remember when doctors were worth something, clearly they’ve lowered their standards if a good-for-nothing like you fell through the cracks.”
Fuck if that didn’t shatter your defensives, every trace of self-doubt came to the suffice fast enough to cause whiplash. You took a deep breath, as your feet carried you far away from her, as you could manage without drawing attention. You made the briefest of eye contact with Dana as you impatiently waited for the elevator. You saw her eyebrows furrow as you stepped in, blinking back tears. You forced a smile as the doors of the elevator closed, and you hit the button for the top floor.
By the time you reach the stairs for the roof, your tears are falling freely, and they quickly mixed with the drizzle of rain that hit you once you stepped outside. You attempted to take a deep breath, only for it to be interrupted by a deep sob from your chest. Exhaustion and your deep frustration take over as you stop trying to calm down and lean into your emotions. You let yourself cry and sob out all of your repressed emotions, from fears of not being good enough, to your various insecurities, to the heart of your deepest self-doubt Robb-.
Your train of thought was thrown off track as your name pieced through the consistent beat of the rain.
Fuck
You tried to calm your breath as Robby stood with his back to you; he scanned the ledge of the roof. You had managed to stop crying, but your position leaning against the outside of the stairwell was quickly given away as another sob rocked through you.
Robby whipped around, panic look faded into one of concern.
“Oh, honey,” he said softly as he approached you.
“Don’t,” you said firmly, you couldn’t handle being around him, not now, not when he was a walking reminder of how you’d never be enough. Fuck, maybe you do have self esteem issues, “I’ll be down in a second, I’m fine.”
“You're gonna have to do more than that to convince me to leave you alone on a roof.” He said, standing less than a foot away, arms crossed.
“I’m not Abbot,” you hiccupped, “I’ll be down in a second.”
“Thank god for that, I can barely handle one of him,” he joked, attempting and failing to lighten the mood.
“In all seriousness, I’m not leaving til you do sweetheart,” Robby said firmly.
“They need you down there,” you said, voice beginning to come back to normal, head bowed.
“Night shift arrived already,” he stated, before cupping your face in one of his massive hands, tilting your chin up to force eye contact, “Even if they did need me, you’re my priority.”
God those fucking doe eyes again,
“Robby, I’m fine.” You tried to convince him again; you had finally stopped crying.
“Yeah, ‘cause irritated eyes and a stuffy nose you can’t breathe out of is really convincing.” He replied, brushing his thumb soothingly against your jaw, “What happened?”
“Nothing, it was just a lady being awful to be awful,” You sniffled.
“How awful?” he asked.
“She made Myrna look like a peach,” you responded, taking a deep breath. You hated that your body was fully relaxed at Robby’s contact. You felt hopeless.
“Shit.” He replied without thinking.
“Yeah,” you let out a wet laugh.
“Must have been really shitty to break through, you normally got pretty tough skin, kid” Robby said.
“I guess,” you sighed, finally looking up, “She just confirmed every bit of self-doubt I have.”
“What do you have to be doubtful about?” He asked softly, “’Cause where I’m standing, I’m not seeing anything.”
You gave Robby an unconvinced look, pulling a laugh from him.
“Yeah, cuz everyone wants a doctor who doesn’t feel like they belong, or are remotely qualified for their position, or capable of being remotely competent when it matters. Let alone anyone who would ever want to be with me.” You sighed.
“That’s bullshit,” Robby said firmly, a bite to his tone, “You’re one of the most qualified doctors I’ve ever had the pleasure of working with. You’re integral to our team; we’re beyond lucky you settled for PTMC. God knows you had better options.”
“You’d say that to anyone in this position,” you scoff.
“Have you ever known me to bullshit anyone?” he said, leaving no room for argument.
“No, but-” you attempted to start to argue again, before Robby cut you off.
“And fuck, anyone would be lucky to have you as a partner.” He started, “You’re smart, kind, and strong. Fuck sweetheart, I’m jealous of the lucky fucker you choose to settle for.”
“Robby,” you replied softly, “I’m average at best, any future partner I’d have would be the one to settle-”
Your eyes widened before snapping shut as Robby cut you off by pulling you in for a fierce kiss. You were overwhelmed by the emotion he poured out as your lips molded against each other. You let out a soft whine as he pulled back, resting his forehead against yours.
“Sweetheart, I love you, but if you keep talking like that, we’re gonna have a fucking problem.” He said, half confession, half threat.
“But-” you started, attempting to take in all of what he was saying.
He loved you
“No, buts,” he started, “You are the very beating and pulse of my heart. Nothing you could do could possibly change that.”
“Robby, I,” you swallowed, “I love you too.”
A grin split his face at your confession before he pulled you in for another emotional kiss. You were about to deepen the kiss when a shiver rocked through you, scrubs now soaked through from the rain.
“We should probably head in, huh?” he laughed. You couldn’t help but smile as you pulled back. You didn’t make it far; your pendant got stuck in the center of his Star of David pendant.
A scenario I am definitely writing in a mohan/abbott/walsh fic - Robby pulling Mohan aside and asking her very seriously whether or not shes comfortable with their competitive flirting.
When she hesitantly says yes (gearing herself up for a lecture about it being inappropriate) he sighs and nods and mutters a warning about Gloria and HR before getting to the real reason he pulled her aside.
Robby: "please tell me I can be a protective hardass about this. Nothing will bring me more joy then to make them squirm."
Mohan: "Wait really? Are you serious?"
Robby: "Deadly serious. This will be the best revenge for the bullshit they've pulled over our entire friendship."
Robby watching as the woman he coveted for years, the one he can finally call his, after years and years of pining….being flirted with by a younger EMT that frequents the hospital…ready to step in whenever you signal for him…
