the new med student really wants to impress Robby (f!reader)
as requested <3
*****
These new med students were starting to give Robby a headache, and it’s not even noon. There’s three of you. The tall boy who believes intelligence justifies his cockiness. The girl whose disinterest shrouds her brilliance. And then, there’s you.
You introduced yourself this morning with a delicate hand and a coquettish smile. “Dr. Robinavitch,” you don’t hide the way your eyes roam his body. “I look forward to learning under you.”
Oh dear. Robby wasted no time sending you and the other students to Whitaker before he could picture just how many ways you could learn under him.
He sees very little of you outside of traumas. When he does, you’re always watching him, an unreadable look in your eyes. But in traumas, you’re far less subtle, listening to him with rapt attention and a lidded gaze.
Out of the students, it’s Javadi and Ogilvie who do the most biting. Yet, where Joy lets herself disappear in boredom and annoyance, you press. You predict Robby’s next question in silence, jumping in when appropriate with a perfect answer, always framed as an innocent question.
“Dr. Robinavitch, should we proceed with sutures?” You blink up at him, “The edges of the lacerations appear to be under significant tension.”
He has to tamp down the burn in his gut each time.
Javadi clearly likes you, another woman standing up to Ogilvie’s arrogance. When you speak, she doesn’t try jumping in, just nods along and smirks, occasionally verbalizing her agreement. Though, you pay little attention to her beyond a subtle wink or smile, because when you speak, you do it for nobody other than Robby.
And then, when Robby thinks you can’t do more to prove yourself a star pupil, Vince Cole begins to bleed out in the middle of the trauma room.
“Stop!” Your voice is sharp, powerful, confident. Every single person in the room freezes. You lunge over Vince’s limp body and grab Ogilvie’s hand, with a forcep stuck in the wound on his back. You bite, “Are you trying to fucking kill him?”
The boy scoffs, his eyes cross to Robby as though to ask permission, “He’s bleeding out. There’s glass in here. I have a grip on it.”
“And if you pull it out, he’s dead.”
“She’s right,” Robby says, nodding at you. You bite back a grin, and the fire in your eyes forces Robby to look back at Ogilvie. “We don’t know how large the foreign object is. Based on the bleeding, it could very well kill him. We need to call surgery.”
Ogilvie’s hand remains on the forceps as he glares at you. Robby can feel Cassie nudge him and can hear the soft laugh she lets out at the exchange, but he’s fixated on you. You’re smirking, hand still wrapped around Ogilvie’s wrist like a vice, looking smug, egregiously so.
When Ogilvie relents, you make sure to catch Robby’s gaze. He nods, and you lick your lips.
Vince is quickly stabilized and sent up to surgery. Ogilvie disappears, licking his wounds, but you linger, taking your time to apply hand sanitizer just outside of the trauma room. You’re standing in front of the dispenser. Under the guise of moving you out of the way, Robby places a hand on your lower back. You let him guide you aside and watch his hands as he gets sanitizer of his own.
“Did I do well, Dr. Robinavitch?” You ask, blinking up at him.
Robby shakes his head, laughing. “You—“ He scoffs, “You need to tone it down.”
You furrow your brows, giving him your best look of innocence, “I don’t understand.”
Robby’s nostrils flare. “Don’t play dumb.” He looks around. The coast is clear, so Robby leans closer to utter, “If you want to fuck me so bad, all you have to do is ask.”
For the first time all day, you don’t seem to know what to do.
