The Voicemail: Michael “Robby” Robinavitch x Reader (Ex!Wife AU)
Summary: Robby puts the final nail in the coffin of your marriage when he leaves THAT voice mail.
SET AFTER:
The Neurologist - Robby doesn't think much of Jack's friend The Neurologist...
Cuffs - Robby makes a discovery when a pair of handcuffs malfunctions at a crucial time.
Bed Rotting - Robby starts to blow up his life after you return to Seattle.
SET BEFORE:
Divorce Papers - Jack gives a couple of home truths to Robby after he finds out he signed your divorce papers.
A Fucking Nightmare - Robby’s worst nightmare comes true when his ex-wife shows up as a guest at Dana’s vow renewal ceremony.
Regrets - Robby can't help but think about his regrets after seeing his ex-wife for the first time since he signed the divorce papers.
Unread - Robby turns to Jack when you don't respond to his message
The Call - Robby takes the plunge and decides to call you, leading to a surprising revelation.
Shepherd - Robby's world is turned upside down when he receives a call from Derek Shepherd.
Husband Number Two - Robby gets into it with the man vying for the role of Husband Number Two.
Robby doesn’t mean to leave the voicemail.
He’s drunk, lonely, pissed off.
Jack had thought it would be a good idea for him to get out and socialise because apparently, he’s been getting a little ‘reclusive’ lately so they hit the bar around the corner from Robby’s old place.
It’s a mistake, a big one.
Jack thinks he’s doing Robby a favour by coming to this place, but the truth is, he sees the ghost of that first night with you absolutely everywhere. Your teasing smile as you lean over the pool table, lining up your shot. Your eyes never wavering from his as you potted the red. He’d walked you home after you’d hustled him. Then he’d ended up in staying for over twenty-four hours having sex, eating take out and binge watching whatever shows stole your attention on Netflix.
Now he’s outside that same bar, waiting alone for his Uber.
When he pulls out his phone to check where the driver Mickey D is, he finds himself pulling up your Instagram. Despite the fact he’s not picking up your calls, he still checks it obsessively. The grid used to be filled with pictures of your life together, now all he sees is the one you have without him in Seattle.
Acid burns at the back of his throat, bile clawing its way up his oesophagus as he re-reads your last text, another in the string he’s left unanswered.
I don’t understand why you’re not talking to me. What did I do wrong?
You should know what you’ve done wrong, you should know what your absence is doing to him, but the truth is you’re too busy with everyone else in that terrible fucking city to understand that in Pittsburgh, your husband is drowning. It’s just another example of how little he means to you, how unimportant he really is in the grand scheme of things.
When he gets into the condo, he’s greeted by darkness. Light filters into the living room from the moon outside the floor to ceiling windows, illuminating the chair you used to occupy in the evenings as you looked out across the river. There’s no book on the side table anymore, no earrings, you’ve taken out after a long day. There’s just your blanket folded neatly on the cushion, another sign that you won’t be returning anytime soon.
What did I do wrong?
The words echo in his head as he stares at it. Vitriol surges up inside him like a tidal wave, crashing through his body in furious, relentless waves as he tears his phone out of his pocket, dialling your number.
Instead of ringing it goes straight to voicemail, and it just makes those waves pound harder, faster until he’s swept under all over again, bashed against the rocks, a slave to the current. He hits redial three times, listening again and again until he starts to hate the sound of your voice everytime it tells him you’re unavailable.
“You want to know what you did wrong Viv.” He spits into the answering machine, bitterness twanging on his tongue. “You left me, and the worst part is you keep leaving me.” He collapses into your chair, yanking the blanket out from underneath him as he watches the torrid river heave, the choppy grey water crashing against the embankment threatening to destroy everything in it’s wake. “It’s like you’re stabbing a scalpel into my damn chest everytime you go back to Seattle, like you’re cutting my heart out and tossing it into the medical waste because it isn’t good enough for you, because I’m not good enough for you. And I can’t do that anymore Viv…. I can’t… so… don’t bother coming back. Just stay out there, doing what you do best. Don’t come back to Pittsburgh. This isn’t working, we’re not working.”
He passes out after that, spends the night in your chair, your blanket draped over him. The scent of your perfume still clings to it, the same wildflowers and blackberries that will haunt him for the rest of his life.
When he wakes up, it’s with a crick in his neck, a throbbing headache that comes with too much whiskey. His phone is still clasped in his hand, the screen showing twelve missed calls and too many texts to count. He doesn’t read them, he simply clears the screen before turning the device off and climbing into bed with the TV playing in the background for company.
It stays that way for a month until the divorce papers arrive. They’re handed to him in the middle of his shift by a process server. He feels a sickening sense of vindication when he opens the envelope and sees that your details are already filled in.
This…. this was always inevitable.
He was just too dumb at the time to realise that he doesn’t get to have good things, that just like everyone else in his life who was supposed to love him, you were always going to leave.
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sorry i clung to the punishment tidbit in what was a perfectly done soft robby blurb but. i cant stop thinking about puppy who wags her tail through her spankings bc she’s just happy to be in robby’s lap…. n who licks robby’s finger when he’s scolding her bc she’s so happy to have his attention. who absolutely acts out TO get punished bc she loves it so much… ugh
jack sees it one day and cant help but make a comment bc robby acts like he’s such a hardass and is sooo good at reigning you in….. he chuckles and says “Course you came home with the one puppy who likes spankings. Shit, no wonder she drives you up the wall.
oh gilli if I know anything about you is that you like soft dicks and punishments :')
no literallyyyyyy it kinda backfires when she realizes getting in trouble means getting attention :((( being over his lap getting a spanking and your tail starts waggin' and he immediately clicks his tongue n tugs at it "nuh uh, you're not supposed to enjoy this, pup." and she gets soooo squirmy cause her tail is so so sensitive he can feel a little pool of slick already gathering on his thigh :( he gives her pussy a pat, "this puppy cunt better be dry when we're done or you're not getting your reward." it is not dry, of course, so she just gets her owner's dick in her mouth instead... not much of a punishment for pup though since her owner's cum is her favourite treat :(
thinking also of her bringing robby's slipper to him when jack's over and at first jack thinks she's being helpful, if maybe a bit silly since she only brings one, all "what a sweet pup, look what she brought you, man" but robby just sighs knowing exactly what's happening. he grabs at it and looks deadpan at jack while you twirl around to present your butt, waiting for him to smack it with the slipper :( jack laughs loudly, fully endeared, "Aw man, c'mon give it her, look how she's begging for it." n her butt is just wigglinggggggg
robby gives in and delivers one solid smack with the slipper and before he can even drop it there's a drooly pup jumping on him and licking his face :)))) jack watches with a smile, because he knows his friend is down bad behind all his scowls. he smiles around his beer. "you are so fucked, brother."
car sex with robby after he had a long day at work
cw : dad(dy) kink, fauxcest, car sex, humping, p in v, f reader ♡ 466 words
a/n : wrote this based off a dream i had ,, this isnt the best but i hope u enjoy!
MINORS DO NOT INTERACT
you’re clinging to robby in the back seat of his g wagon, arms wrapped around his neck. he’s still in his scrubs and sweaty from a long day at work, pants shoved down to his knees so you can grind on him through his boxers. his hands are running up and down your waist under your top, rough from how much hand sanitizer he uses.
he’s pressing kisses to your face while you grind down on his lap. he lets his hips jump up to meet yours sometimes, drawing short whines from you. his round glasses are still perched on his nose, slightly crooked from the movement.
“shh, shh, baby, it’s okay, daddy’s here,” he mumbles into your ear, and you hiccup in response. “aww, you’re so needy today. you missed your dad?”
you nod into his neck, slowing your hips’ movements into a heavy roll.
“sweet thing,” he sucks in a deep breath, tucking his hands under the waistband of your panties. “want me to fuck you now, baby? ‘s that okay?”
you nod again, more frantic this time, peeking up to look at his face.
“c’mon, be polite. thought i taught you good manners. say ‘please, daddy’,”
“please, daddy,” you murmur, embarrassed, a hot flush rising on your neck.
“good girl,” he coos, finally sliding your panties down your thighs and cupping your pussy. “you wanna take dad out?”
“yes,” you whisper, reaching from his neck to grab at his boxers. you pull his hard dick out from the soft fabric, letting it slap against his tummy. he groans and curses under his breath as you slide your hand down it, rolling your palm over the tip.
“mmm‘kay, that’s enough,” he groans, grabbing your hands and forcing them away. “hands off, baby.”
you frown, but let him pull you away.
“okay, up,” he grunts, gripping your hips and lifting you to kneel above his lap. he grips the base of his dick in his hand, guiding it to line up with your entrance.
you whine when he gathers your slick and slides in. he slowly lowers you on his lap, feeding you more and more of his cock. you hang to his shoulders while he sinks inside, steadying yourself.
when you finally meet his lap, you’re whimpering and hiding your face in his neck.
“god- fuck, you feel so good,”
you hum in response, letting your hips grind softly into his.
“ohhh- mmm, gonna fuck you now, okay?”
he secures his arm around your waist before he starts to thrust up into you. you writhe as he starts, already brushing a good spot inside you. your nails scratch his shoulders, mouth dropping open as your breathing picks up.
“mhmmm, daddy hitting a good spot already? that feel good?”
Hello!!! I’m new here so idk if you’re down to write more soft Robby but if you areee, what about puppy!reader acting really off and quiet for a couple of days and Robby noticed but doesn’t do anything until you stop coming into his bed at night?
hihi welcome!!! I love playing with the nuance of robby being so strict but at the end of the day he loves his pup :(( maybe pup overhears him complaining about this very thing and he makes and off handed comment about returning her to the pound for a better dog (mean!), and she usually does not process any of his grumblings just wants to love on him but maybe she's extra sensitive that day so she takes it to heart :(((
at first he probably thinks you finally learned your lesson. you weren't meant to be on the bed in the first place, and he always made a big deal of huffing and puffing and turning his back on you even though he let you stick your cold nose right against his nape.
so the first night he takes it as a win. the second, he starts to miss your clumsy licks to his face, the way you would stumble on to the bed in the least inconspicuous way possible while still trying to be sneaky. he still doesn't do anything, convinces himself he doesn't care because this is how it was always meant to be.
by the third night he's sitting up in bed, cursing to himself before calling out "pup. c'mere."
it's quiet for a second before there's the pitter patter of your footsteps coming into the bedroom and then staring at him over the edge of the bed. he pats the bed and sighs when you look at the spot and then back at him. "come. up."
you jump, still very clumsy, enough that he has to reach over and help you up when you almost tip over and then you settle into the tiniest ball and look up at him with the saddest eyes :( he pats your head, "not feeling too good, pup?"
you just whine, so happy to have his touch again having missed him so so much!! and his bed smells like him just like you like, not like the bed in the kennel that just smells like you. he scratches your belly, "what's gotten into you, huh?"
"bad dog," you're still getting your voice, so the words come out scratchy but he makes them out all the same.
robby shakes his head, weirdly uneasy with you thinking that. "you're not a bad dog," your tail wags and he cracks a smile, still scratching your belly. "well, sometimes. you're a bit of a mess." the wagging slows down and your head tilts curiously, ears twitching. "but you're my messy pup. mine to train, and to punish when you misbehave." the wagging speeds up considerably, he sighs, resigned to your attachment to his punishments. "you can sleep on the bed, as long as yo—jesus, pup" the last words are muffled by your wet tongue on his face. he grabs at your tail and tugs a little at the base where he knows you're sensitive - you stutter sand hump at the air. "not a good start, mutt."
warnings: age gap (no specific ages though), brief angst, brief mention of child passing in the ED, illusions to smut but nothing described specifically
author’s note: blah blah blah meeting robby at a motel but with a twist! Guess I’m back on my older tortured men shit <3
You heard him before you saw him. A simple peek through the curtains of the motel room you were in gave you the perfect view of him dismounting from his motorcycle that announced his arrival with a rumble. Sunglasses were perched on his nose and his helmet, that was once on his head, was now in his hand.
As he checked out the nearly empty parking lot (expected since it was a Wednesday night), you checked him out—salt and pepper beard, hair disheveled from the helmet and his broad shoulders that cast an impressive shadow on the pavement in front of him.
With his sunglasses off now, you could see the kind eyes and the crows feet that etched themselves there over time. He was older, and that just made him all the more handsome. You were too enthralled to look away quick enough, because before you knew it, you were looking into his eyes.
Your fingers released the curtain you’d pulled back to get a better look at him before you buried yourself deeper into the motel room. You chewed on the inside of your lip, fighting back a grin but welcoming the way your heart raced with anticipation. You were far from home, your mind and body needing a change of scenery from work in order to really recuperate. A few days away and hours from home and work afforded you the salvation you desperately craved.
Past tall, dark and handsome, you noticed the sun was beginning to set which meant you had to leave now if you wanted to walk to the familiar diner nearby that you always passed on your drive to this motel.
With your bag on your shoulder, you step out of your motel room just in time to see tall, dark and handsome stepping into his—the room right next to yours. Both of you, straddling the threshold of your rooms, stopped. His eyes found yours and that was almost enough to have you following him into his room. You took him in as he towered over you, and he wasn’t shy about letting his eyes roam over your body. Smiles tug at your lips and his, but you walk away from him and towards the diner.
The roadside diner never disappoints with its bottomless coffee, crispy bacon and friendly waitress. You were sure she recognized you by now. Coming down here was starting to become a habit.
That familiar rumble of a motorcycle spiked your heart rate and you had to fight to not look out the window, even when a headlight flashed into the window, breaking the darkness of the night that had fallen over the town by the time you finished your meal.
Your back was to the door, but you most certainly heard the bell above it ring upon his entrance. You locked in on the sound of his footsteps against the tiled floor. He made polite conversation with the waitress who told him to sit wherever he’d like.
There were few patrons in the diner; an old couple in the corner paying their bill, a trucker wiping his mouth with napkin, clearly satisfied with the meal he polished off; tall, dark and handsome could sit wherever he wanted to, really, but he sauntered past you, landed two tables down from you and sat in the seat that afforded him the best view of you.
Eyes locked once again, neither of you strong enough to look away, even as the waitress handed him a menu. He muttered something to her and she promptly headed to the counter. You watched as he flipped open the menu and a smile tugged at your lips. You pulled your coffee cup up to take a swig to hide your grin, but you didn’t miss the way he pulled his menu up a little higher to shield his own face.
The waitress returned to his table with a cup of coffee. As he spoke to her again, you couldn’t stop yourself from eyeing the way the collar of his jacket grazed against his neck. You almost envied it.
You looked away just as the waitress walked away from his table. She paused at your table when she saw your empty plate. “All done, hun?” She asked.
“Yes,” you smiled at her, handing her the plate.
“Anything else I can get you?”
The heat of his gaze on you made it hard to think straight, so you simply shook your head with a smile in response.
Just as the waitress walked away, you glanced over at his table just in time to catch his heated stare fanning over you. Your eyes locked on his as you took another sip of your coffee, not backing down from this staring contest.
The game of eye tag continued until he finished his meal and the diner emptied out. It was just you and him separated by a couple of tables, until he stood up. He approached and you watched him out of the corner of your eye, as if the dirty coffee cup in your hand was more interesting than all six foot something of him. He sat at your table, forgoing asking for permission.
He was right in front of you now and neither of you could bite back your grins.
“Hi.” You could feel the rumble of his voice against the table, hitting you deep in the pit of your stomach.
You fought the urge to cross your legs. “Hi,” you echoed.
“You look familiar,” he mused, eyes roaming over your face, drinking in every detail of it.
“I think we’re staying at the same motel.”
His face lit up, pretending to suddenly remember as if you two haven’t been eyefucking each other since he pulled up to the motel. “That’s right.”
“Not to be presumptuous, but I worry that you might’ve followed me,” you say with no malice in your voice.
“Pure coincidence,” he shrugged, feigning innocence. “I always come here when I’m in town.”
“Really?” It was your turn to pretend. “So do I.”
“Good coffee.” He nods towards the cup in your hand that must’ve been refilled three times since he walked in, just so you had something to do there, to stay in his vicinity.
“Great coffee,” you confirmed, finishing your last cup.
“I can’t help but notice you walked here from the motel,” he commented.
Feeling bold, you leaned in a little closer on the table. “I think you noticed a bit more about me than that.”
A smile stretched out over his face as a laugh escaped. He regained his composure and looked back at you.
“I was just gonna say, it’s dark out now, if you need a ride back…”
Your heart was thudding against your ribs in anticipation and the ache between your legs only came back stronger. If any of the staff at the diner thought this was strange, an older man approaching you this late at night, offering you a ride back to your motel, they certainly didn’t do anything about it. You were sure they saw far stranger things. But none of that mattered here.
“I don’t even know your name,” you hummed.
He huffed out a quick laugh before his kind eyes found yours again. “Robby.”
“Robby,” you repeated with a quirk of your lips before introducing yourself.
“So?” He asked, holding out his helmet to you.
Your eyes flickered between it and his stare. He was eager, you could see it all over his face, in the way he clutched the helmet, desperately but silently willing you to put it on and stop delaying the inevitable.
Your hand landed on the helmet and that’s all it takes for the two of you to stand from the table.
The way your hands clutched onto Robby as he drove you back to the motel was nothing in comparison to the way his strong hands grasped at your body that was pressed between his body and the wall of your motel room.
You shared feverish kisses as your legs wrapped tighter around his waist. Your hands alternated, threading through his hair, clawing at his jacket, grasping onto his shoulders. The minuscule distance between you two let you know how badly he needed you. He grasped at your thighs, desperate to never let you go.
Robby broke the kiss and the desperation in you was quenched when his mouth found your neck. The brush of his beard against the skin there had your back arching into him and hips bucking against his. Your heavy breathing echoed throughout the dark room and mingled with his groans at the friction.
Your eyes rolled to the back of your head and your hands grasped at his broad shoulders just before he pulled back an inch from your neck. “Was the drive okay?” He panted before trailing his tongue down the column of your neck, desperate to devour you.
Your eyes flew open and you huffed quickly. “Robby.”
“Sorry.”
His response was quick and you felt a twinge of guilt. “It was,” you assured him, tone breathy. “You’re the one who was late.”
Robby moved hastily, turning and dropping you down onto the bed. He stripped himself of his leather jacket and let it fall to the floor before cascading over you.
“I guess I’d better start apologizing.”
Any semblance of a cheeky response vanished when Robby crawled down the length of your body.
The digital clock on the nightstand flashed 12:37am and you found yourself lying naked under the covers with Robby. Sweat clung to your skin but at least you finally caught your breath. In the afterglow, you could hear just how quiet it was outside, with the occasional car passing by on the nearby road. It was serene now, almost as if the unrestrained, chaotic, delicious display of desire didn’t just take place.
You lay on your side next to Robby with your head propped on your hand. It was the perfect view to take in his now disheveled hair and beard, and the way his tired eyes now glimmered with bliss.
“So, what do you do for work?”
As soon as the question left your mouth, Robby couldn’t stop himself from bursting out laughing. Laughs tumbled out of you too, your head dipping down and cheeks brushing against one another before you straightened up again.
“I’m a doctor,” he replied, letting his fingers drag up and down the curve of your spine.
You let your face light up in surprise. “Wow, so you save lives.”
Robby fought against the weight trying to drag his grin down. He didn’t want to ruin the moment. “You do what you can,” he replied, fighting desperately to keep his tone light.
In a matter of moments though, Robby’s eyes turned glassy and he couldn’t look at you anymore. He tried to get a grip, he really did, but he just couldn’t. Losing a child in the ED was never easy. Your heart fell to the pit of your stomach.
“Jesus,” he huffed a self-deprecating laugh. He rubbed at his eyes with the heel of his hand while his other hand pressed against your back, silently hoping you wouldn’t go anywhere. “I’m not the guy that cries after sex.”
You bite back a smirk at his comment though your eyes held a heaviness to them, seeing Robby break down this way. “I know,” you assure him. You press kisses to his shoulder, hoping to soothe the ache as your hand falls onto his chest, right over his tender heart.
Robby’s hand lands on the back of your head. You pick it up to look at him before he tugs you closer to kiss you. He lets it linger and you let yourself settle against him. When he pulls back, you lay your head on his chest and wrap your arm around his waist, holding him the way you know he needs. Robby presses a kiss to the top of your head before resting his cheek against it and taking comfort in your presence.
It’s that bit of salvation that gives Robby the energy to walk back into work on Friday morning. He does his best to focus on the tablet in his hand, at the chart that belongs to a patient that came into his ED and was depending on him and his staff to keep them alive, but it was always hard to clear the fog after a night like the one he had on Wednesday. Dana commented on the pep in his step, but Robby feigned innocence, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
He started to regain his composure and focus, until you walked in.
Through the bustle of the ED, a mix of his staff and patients, you walked through and his mind sent him back to that motel room where you gave yourself to him without a second thought and he let himself let you have him. His eyes fixated on you the way they did at the motel, at the diner, then back at the motel—for the entirety of Wednesday night through to Thursday afternoon. Your eyes flitted over to him and that spark crackled between you again. Still, you kept a professional demeanour as you walked past him.
“Good morning, Dr. Robby,” you greeted.
“Good morning, Doctor…” His eyes trailed after you the way they did at the motel.
Robby averted his gaze and glanced around to make sure no one saw him checking out his resident. He was sure it was only a matter of time until the others realized that the two of you conveniently always had the same days off.
would it be too weird if i wrote a robby x reader fic inspired by that one scene of season 1 where robby is talking about javadi and says "i'd say if she's old enough to put in a chest tube and intubate she's old enough to drink a beer"...??? please say no i promise i won't make it too weird even if reader is 20....
I think surprisingly Robby would accept without no biggie a pedicure; and i don’t consider him that sort of man insicure about this type of stuff + he’s a doctor, so i my mind he’s a bit of a clean freak with nails etc…
maybe he would also enjoy it very much with reader 💕 especially if they go in those salons with the massaging chairs
I just want him to relax 😌
akhsksj he's so dad coded in my head that I feel like he thinks its a waste time for him, like he would rather sleep or read yk? but if you asked very nicely it really wouldn't take too much he can be reasonable 🙏
but maybe you just end up convincing him to let you do it?? you set him up with a game or some kind of bike show and a beer and then saddle up next to him with your tools :) he eyes you suspiciously when you start pushing at his cuticles, "you sure you know what you're doing?" "yessss" you groan, rolling your eyes and earning yourself a grumbled "watch it" but it lacks all heat because just then you pull up tiny scissors of torture to pull out said cuticles </3333
when you're all done you bring his fingers to your lips and kiss at the tips, then the pads of them. you grin, voice singsongy "what do you say?"
he bites back a mirroring grin and gives in, "thank you, honey, you did great."
"I did," you kiss his fingers again and plop onto your back, feet pushing and kneading against his thigh. "now go wash your hands and then you can finger me as payment."
he laughs, out loud with his head throw back, but gets up and does as he's told <3
