feral alley cat

Robby x intern reader

He knows he shouldn’t. She’s so much younger than him. She’s too good to him. But fuck if he’s going to let that stop him.

Tags: Robby x intern reader, SMUT, MDNI, 18+, older man, teaching kink, kissing, possible daddy kink (I’ve yet to make up my mind on this occurrence) no use of y/n

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Part 4

Authors Note: maybe I’m a broken record but I just feel so unbelievably grateful for all the love and support for the past couple parts!!! Please please please send me any requests that you guys have for this series or any new works that yall would like to see!!

Tags: SMUT, MDNI, 18+, once again Robby is a perverted old man, age gap (no age revealed but reader is younger than Robby by a lot), mentor/mentee relationship turned dirty, fingering, fem orgasm, nicknames (baby, kiddo, sweetheart, etc.), heavily leans into the teaching kink 😈😈😈, finger sucking, kissing, lmk if I miss any!!

Series masterlist

WC: 4k (I kinda let my self blabber on and on)

Yay!! You guys the likes and comments on this loosely defined series has been so amazing. I’m just so happy and grateful for all you guys 🥹!! Please let me know if you want to be tagged or have any suggestion abt things that you would like to read. 🩷

Tags: SMUT, MDNI, 18++, Robby is devolving into his alter ego as a master manipulator and pervert (more in the next chapter), jerking off, older man, younger reader, kiddo as a nickname (purely self-indulgent), itty bitty panic attack, allusions to not so great home life and people pleasing energy but nothing explicit

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Series Masterlist

++++

Minutes turned into hours. Hours into days. And days into weeks. Time has passed since your unfortunate stint in the ER and your even more unfortunate conversation with HR. You went back to work thinking that nothing would change. And truth be told, nothing truly changed. But just like the fading scar on your cheek, you can try to forgive but it would be harder to forget.

Robby notices the small anomalies in your behavior instantly. Though you still flit around the department with a big smile on your face, always eager to lend a helping hand, he notices that loud, sudden noises and patients yelling across the room cause you to shrink in on yourself. He even caught you physically jump when Dana tried to grab your attention by tapping on your shoulder.

He wants nothing more than to scoop you up. Hold you tight to him just like he did in that corner not too long ago. But his resolve outweighs his desires. His only solace is to get closer to you as a mentor.

At the beginning he was doing you a favor, all of his other residents paired up. Mel followed Landon around, but he probably followed her around more. Santos and Whittaker were like two peas in a pod. McKay took Javadi under her wing. And as much as he observed you working with Mohan, he knew that he was the one that was going to be the one spearheading your medical education. It was a responsibility that he acquired as a result of his own actions of pulling you into every trauma case that he overtook. Watching you answer questions with increasing confidence and asking you to perform procedures versus just sitting back and staring in awe as Robby placed a chest tube or intubated.

His intentions started off innocent enough. After all he couldn’t just leave you to be by yourself, without the guidance of someone more advanced. (Robby chose to ignore the fact that he could’ve delegated your education to Mohan, who was more than capable of the role). You needed him to teach you how to work through the traumas and intubations, he justified. But somewhere in the thick of things, his attitude towards you shifted. It was no longer about talking you through the chest tube but standing right behind you, his larger hands encasing yours to guide the scalpel as you cut at the 4th intercostal space.

“Beautiful job kiddo.” He leaned back to watch you finish the procedure yourself. You looked up at him. The joy in your eyes knocked the breath out of his lungs. He never had anyone look at him like he hung up all the stars in the night sky.

“Thank you Dr.Robby, I couldn’t have done it without your help.” His decades of toil to the ER had done nothing but take. It took his multiple failed marriages, his presence at family gatherings, his sanity, and even his ability to feel joy. But it would’ve all been worth it if he could just keep you by his side. His name had never sounded so fucking sweet except when it fell from your lips.

Robby knows he shouldn’t. He’s so much older than you. Years of his life were filled with dark memories that he wouldn’t wish on your shadow. He really shouldn’t. But his mind goes back to your body in his arms. The scent of shampoo sometimes wafts through the rooms and reminds him of his chin on your soft head and how it fits so perfectly into the curve of his neck.

He tries his best not to let his hands or his gaze linger. To keep it professional. He knows that he’s getting strange looks from his staff, mainly Dana. It wasn’t that Robby hated new trainees, but he never took such an interest in them before you.

You were just so fucking good to him. And he knows it’s perverted but it almost makes him think about how fucking good you could be to him in other ways. He can sense it in you. Your rampant desire to be praised. Always searching his face with those big beautiful eyes for any semblance of pride. You would be such a good little listener. Eagerly anticipating his needs just as you already do in the trauma rooms.

“Dr.Robby?” He whips his head around, schooling his features into a mask so that you would have no way into his dirty thoughts.

“Yea, kiddo?”

You wrinkle your nose, “Why do you call me that?”

“Do you not want me to?”

“No I didn’t mean that“ you can feel your ears start to warm.

Robby chuckles. “I’m just teasing ya. Old habits die hard, I guess. Did you need me for something?”

Maybe to run my hands through your hair and help you unwind from the stress and open up-

“Yea, I wanted you to review this chart if you wouldn’t mind.”

“For you, I don't mind.”

He knows he’s laying it on thick. Flirting with you in the hub of the ER where anybody could hear your conversation. But he doesn’t care. The only thing that he’s paying attention to is whether or not you react to his quip. You don’t. Instead you turn your chair the other way to pull up the records in his computer.

He sighs dejectedly.

“Is something wrong with the chart? Did I not document everything right? I knew there was a mistake somewhere. I’m so sorry, I’ll do better next time.” You anxiously ramble out. Hands shaking while frantically trying to click through every medication order to triple-check the dosing information.

Robby looks confused for a second before realizing that you spiraled into a tirade after thinking that his self-serving disappointment was directed towards you. He felt like an ass.

“C’mon breathe with me” his palms come to rest on your heaving shoulders. You’ve worried yourself into a panic attack.

“Look at me,” he turns your body to face him, “I am not disappointed in you. You didn’t make any mistakes. I was thinking about something else, you didn’t do anything wrong.”

It didn’t matter that what he was saying was the antidote to your misery because your field of vision and hearing already narrowed. The words coming out of Robby’s mouth sounded like the adults mumbling away in the Charlie Brown movies. Like an evil cotton was stuffed in your ears, warping everything that he was saying.

But the chaos of the ER doesn’t allow you to fully drown underneath the voices in your head telling you that you’re weak, and broken, and a waste of space. The shrill laugh of one of the nurses snaps you out of your haze with a sting.

You finally look at Robby, his words from earlier overcome the lag and sink in.

I’m not disappointed in you.

You didn’t do anything wrong.

It was almost enough to send you down into a spiral again. But you’re a big girl now, or at least a poorer girl after trying to invest in a therapist, and you manage to keep the tears at bay.

“Sorry, Dr.Robby, I don’t know what came over me.” You whisper quietly. Your fingers move quickly as you try to log out of the computer so that you can escape his penetrating gaze.

“Right…” he's not convinced at all. He’s seen the signs before and he should’ve clocked them in you long before today. In fact, he probably would’ve if he wasn’t so focused on everything else about you.

“If you want, you can talk to me about anything” he offers before realizing that you’ve scampered off, ducking through the sea of nurses and lastly disappearing into one of the patients rooms under the guise of checking in on them.

“You need to stop what you’re doing Robby.”

His eyes remained on the spot that once contained your presence but his ears perk up at the sound of Dana’s voice.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about Dana.”

“Yes you do. And I’m telling you to not do it.”

“I’m not doing anything”

“I know you. You search in all these empty rooms Robby hoping to find someone to share your loneliness with. But you can’t take her down with you. Not this one.” She states resolutely.

“You’re being harsh.”

“You stare at her like she’s the only worthy thing in your life. That’s not good for you or her. Because you’re too scared of anything that lasts longer than a month.”

“That’s not true, Dana. I was married for years.”

“Yea and you were checked out of that relationship for longer than you were checked in.” She chuckles.

“All I’m saying is that you shouldn’t let her be your mid-life crisis. She’s a forever kind of girl, so don’t string her along if you can’t give that to her.”

+++

After that conversation with Dana, Robby tried to be more mindful of his lingering touches. At least trying to keep it professionally acceptable when she’s looking. But he couldn’t go cold turkey. Now that he’d gotten a taste for his name coming out of your mouth, his mind transforms your innocent little sighs when charting to take place in a more sinister setting. With you all needy and pliant in his bed. Gasping up at him for more. Where he knew he could never say no to you.

Robby almost loses his mind when he sees you stretching in the locker room after a really straining shift. You were too focused on working out the kinks in your back to notice that your scrub top had ridden up enough to expose a soft expanse of skin. That coupled with the small moan that spilt out of your lips with a particularly good ‘crack’ had him running to the staff bathroom hoping that no one would see the growing tent in his cargos.

He swung the door open and locked it immediately. Robby didn’t even need to close his eyes to imagine you kneeling down next to him looking up expectantly. His fingers made quick work of the button on his pants and flung them down. And then began to palm at the base of his cock. He could almost replace his calloused hand with your softer one in his mind. You would dart out to lick your lips nervously, fingers delicately making their way up and down the shaft.

“Am I doing it right Dr. Robby?”

The words would come out of your mouth. Softly. Laced with uncertainty. Robby’s other palm slammed against the wall. The only thing keeping him from sinking into the linoleum floor.

Fuck.

His breaths came out in short bursts. The idea of you worshipping him from the ground, looking to him for guidance almost made him cum on the spot. And oh would he guide you. Every touch on your body would make you beg and plead for more. He’d dole out sparingly praise like treats to keep you tightly wound to him.

You were such a sweet thing. So much younger than him. So eager to help him and be a good girl. So fucking eager.

Short bursts of cum shoot out of him. Hips stuttering at the idea of corrupting you. Doing anything he wanted to you and you would let him get away with it.

Fuck.

The aftershocks of the orgasm quickly fade, leaving the guilt remaining. He tries to rinse it away like the mess on his hands but he couldn’t. This was a new low for him. The harsh lighting in the bathroom warps his reflection in the mirror. It reveals that he no longer feels on top of the world. He feels like a dirty, perverted man, jerking off to fantasies of someone young enough to be his daughter. And perhaps the only person in the world that doesn’t see anything but good in him. And fuck if he doesn’t want to ruin you

Tag List:

Bc at this moment I can have multiple endings to this ch. but smut-wise I was thinking of ending it like that scene in greys with Lexie going to mark and saying teach me. And then ch 5 would be smut smut with the continuation of that. But I wanted to see what yall were thinking!!

(Robby x intern reader) Part 3

Part 1 | Part 2 | Series Masterlist

Hey guys!!! The love from parts 1 and 2 have absolutely blown me away. Thank you so much for being so supportive and awesome!!!! Also I feel like an unc but that poll I posted for the tag list doesn’t tell me who voted it just tells me the amount of votes 🤦‍♀️. I was only able to tag the people the commented on any posts 😭. Please comment or msg me if you guys want to be tagged!!

Tags: hurt/comfort, angst, Robby and reader are giving that picture of MerDer in the banner at one point, violence against healthcare workers, victim blaming, language

+++

The hours following the attack dragged on for what felt like forever. Although you got cleared by radiology pretty quickly, Robby insisted that you pack up and go home less than halfway through the shift.You dragged your feet, feeling like a colossal shit for abandoning the ship. And with no other doctor coming in, they were going to be short for the rest of the shift.

You managed to trudge your way through the sticky heat of Pittsburgh. The three blocks to your apartment felt like a three day voyage. Only the thoughts of a half-eaten pint of coffee bean ice cream and bad reality tv fueled you to actually walk up the steps and unlock your house.

It was the size of a small closet, with one bedroom, bathroom and a little kitchen. You tried your hardest to keep it tidy but your lack of motivation coupled with the fact that you were never home fought back hard and won the fight. You grabbed the slightly freezer-burned pint and plopped down into the worn brown couch that sat in the middle of the living area. The remote rested on its usual place on the coffee table but it felt too far away to reach. Instead you resigned yourself to scraping at the chalky ice cream with the only clean spoon in your flat.

Ping.

The sound of your phone startled you out of your disassociative state. You weren’t expecting anyone to check up on you. When the hospital intook you as a patient, you ensured that neither of your parents would be notified of this unfortunate accident. They had never particularly cared about your wellbeing and were incredibly disappointed that you went through medical school to pick Emergency Medicine as your career of choice.

“You could’ve been a surgeon, darling. It’s so much more respectable.” Your mother’s words echoed in your brain as you glanced down at your phone.

Dr.Robby: Checking in. How are you doing?

You: i’m fine! are you sure you don’t need another set of hands in the ED?

You: i know no one could come in for me and i really was cleared to work again today.

Dr.Robby: That is out of the question. Stay home all day today. I want you to stay home tomorrow as well but Gloria is demanding an interview to go over the incident.

You: oh, i didn’t know that i needed to do that 🙁

Dr.Robby: Don’t worry. It’s a very routine procedure. She just needs you to answer some questions. I can be in there if you would like.

The offer catches you off guard. The spoon of cold ice cream almost falls into your lap as you jaw drops. Maybe it's something that he says to all of his injured employees. Knowing from personal experience, it sucks ass to get abused in your place of work.

He’s being a good department head, you tell yourself scoldingly, embarrassed that the idea of him wanting to take care of you even crossed your mind.

You: i wouldn’t want you to leave the ER high and dry

Dr.Robby: They can do without me for an hour.

Across the city, Robby sat at his desk at the nurses station. The thirty-five unlocked charts mocked him from the computer screen while he was trying to find something else to text you to keep the conversation alive. The truth was that he had never offered his stoic support to anyone going through Gloria’s employer question before. He didn’t even know why he offered it to you. His fingers were running across the keyboard, eager to hear your voice, even if it was through text. And then the message was sent.

He sighed and looked up at his screen. His residents were running amok in the ER and he couldn’t begin to care less. Mohan looked at him like he’d grown three heads when he approved her request for a spinal tap on a relatively healthy twenty-three year old with a weird scaly rash.

“Robby get off your goddamn phone and help out here,” Dana hollered across the room, “we’ve got a pedestrian vs car accident 5 minutes out.”

Before he could take another peek at his screen to see a text from you, Dana threw a pair of large gloves at his head that he caught by the slightest grip of his fingertips. And then he started walking off to the trauma bay, almost missing the soft whoosh from his phone.

He looked down.

You: thank you for the offer, but i think it’ll be okay ☺️

+++

The collar of your white button down shirt felt like a noose around your throat. You kept tugging at it to create more room between the fabric and your skin. It wasn't routine for you to show up to the hospital in anything other than a hoodie which you later would exchange with scrubs from the dispenser.

An odd calm had taken over the ER since the last time you stepped foot inside. No ambulance sirens ringing. No shrieking from the psych hold patients. No rushing of the staff to tend to the next emergent procedure. Even the chairs looked emptier than usual. You should’ve known that the quiet of the ER was probably a bad sign. But it didn’t really matter to you. In fact you appreciated it more than ever now that you had given Robby the green light to abandon the shift for you.

Shortly after your text thread with him, Gloria sent out a notification requesting your presence in the Human Resources office. You made your way up, knowing that the hospital committee was waiting for you.

You opened the door.

“Please take a seat.”

The immediate request didn’t catch you off guard, but you thought it was odd that they didn’t begin with the normal business-world niceties. You took a seat on the hard-back wooden chair across the table from Gloria and two other people that you had never seen before. .

“How are you doing after yesterday?” The question comes from Gloria. You look up at her. The blank expression on her face almost cracks when she lays eyes on the thick black sutures on your cheek and the ugly dark purple bruising around your nose.

“I’m a little shaken up, but other than that good. Ready to get back to work!” You muster up.

“That’s what we like to hear. So I know the police questioned you yesterday and took down your statement. They are currently operating under the assumption that you will be pressing charges, is that correct?”

“Yes ma’am.”

“We need to discuss this issue further.”

Your eyebrows crinkle with confusion. Gloria continues.

“The police state that the patient was severely under the influence with a blood alcohol level of .12%. Were you not able to recognize that?”

You’re stunned. The conversation feels like it’s pulling away from you. They’re pulling the rug from underneath your feet while you have crutches and two broken legs.

“Well um-, I didn’t think about that. He was alert and oriented when the nursing staff did the wound care and prepped him for the sutures. I just thought I needed to place his sutures and then wait for further orders.”

“Did you not investigate what made him obtain the injury?”

“He wasn’t my patient. I was just there to place the sutures while the other residents were busy.”

“You didn’t review the chart with his lab results?”

“No, I mean, I just looked at the picture in the chart and went to stitch it up.” You try swallowing the pooling saliva in your mouth to help ease the lump in your throat.

“Were you not able to smell the alcohol on him in such close proximity?” This question came from one of the others.

“I’m sorry, I wasn’t aware that he was intoxicated. I was just focused on completing my task.”

“Did you do anything to provoke him?”

All the blood in your body rushes to your head. Your fingertips start to numb up. You stare at them in disbelief more than anger. A patient had attacked you. Stripped you of what it meant to feel safe while doing your job.

“Why don’t you call security?”

“Sometimes patients, especially intoxicated ones, can mistake friendliness for something more. You should take care next time.

“We don’t recommend that you press charges. You’ve only been in residency for a month. The other lawyers can easily make the case that this situation could’ve been avoided if you didn’t miss the BAC as well as tools on how to de-escalate tension properly.”

They talk at you for the rest of the meeting. Citing a multitude of reasons as to why it would be difficult to get the hospital's legal team involved and how it would be so much easier if you were agreeable and aware of all outcomes. A stack of papers is slid over the desk to you.

You finally croak out, “what is this?”

“It’s just a list of forms stating that you agree to everything that we said during this meeting.”

You pick up the pen. The signature is shaky at best and illegible at worst. You slide it back and get up from the chair. Knees almost buckling from being clenched with anxiety for so long.

You finally make it out of the room and across the hallway. Tucked away in the corner there’s not a chance that anyone would find you there. In the protection of privacy you stop holding it together.

Your chest heaves, trying to cave in on itself. Breaths come out like the short puffs of ignition from a burnt out car. All the pent up adrenaline rushes out of your body as you pressing your forehead against the prickly stucco. Hoping that the pinpricks of pain would stop you from breaking down.

A sob breaks free. Loud and humiliating.

And then you hear quick footsteps. You look up with tears in your eyes.

“Hey”

It’s Robby. He reaches out to you but you flinch back into the drywall before you could stop yourself.

“It’s okay, it’s me.”

You turn to face him, unable to keep the tears from flowing for much longer. “They- they kept asking what I did wrong Dr.Robby. Like I wanted to let him-“

“Motherfucker” the curse shoots out under his breath, filled with venom.

“They had no fucking right to do that.” The muscle in his jaw popping out with the fury coursing through his veins.

Your knees finally give out.

His firm arms steady you immediately before you can hit the floor. Both of you freeze. The only sounds are your quick breaths in rhythm with each other.

“Will you hold me?”

He exhales, sharp and controlled, and one hand tightens around your shoulders while the other wraps around your back to pull you closer to his chest.

Your sobs rip out of you. Against your will. Finally feeling safe enough to, in his embrace. Your wet face is pressed into his jacket and fat tears stain it while your hands fist into the fabric. He has one hand stroking your back while whispering soft words into your ear.

“You did everything right. You were just doing your job.”

Your hands tighten around the coat at his statement. He didn’t say it in a way that was trying to make you believe. He said it as a fact. With as much certainty as the sky is blue. He said it with the conviction that you lost as soon as they started to question your integrity.

He pulls you closer. Like he’s afraid that you might disappear if he lets go. And you just might. His chin rests on the top of your head. You can feel the warmth of his breath at your hairline.

He holds you. He holds you until you can finally hold yourself again, and even more for good measure. And for the first time in your life you feel true comfort.

Your breathing starts to slow, mimicking the pace of his. Your once broken sobs quiet down to little hiccups. You tilt your head up to look at him and suddenly you're aware of everything. The bob of his Adams apple with every swallow. The strength that he carries everywhere, but especially his jaw. The heat of his body on yours.

Robby notices the hitch in your eyes. He tightens in hold imperceptibly. Unknowingly. And then he loosens, forcing himself to practice restraint. Your faces are inches apart. Synced breaths mixing together in the small silver of space between. His eyes are dark and burning with something more than rage against the hospital administration.

“Dr.Robby-“

He stops you.

“Not now,” his voice is like sandpaper, “not like this”

“Please.”

“It’s going to hurt worse later than if we just waited.”

“It hurts already. I promise it won’t make it worse.”

He looks down at you. The want in your eyes almost makes him give in, but the pain he notices in them strengthens his resolve. He lets go of you. Untangling his hands from your body and his presence from your soul.

“Don’t go” your voice cracks.

“I’m not going anywhere, but we can’t do this right at this moment .” He notices your lips start to tremble. “I don’t want to be something that causes you more pain sweetheart.”

You nod shakily.

“Go home, get some rest. I’m going to find you coverage for the next day.”

“No that’s not-“

“It’s non-negotiable. I also need the time to have a discussion with the admin about their behavior towards my people.”

+++

Tag List: (currently incomplete 😭)

Part 2 of robby x intern reader

Tags: hurt/comfort, angst, physical violence against healthcare workers, patient is an asshole, Robby slips up and calls reader a nickname, no y/n

Part 1 | Part 3 | Series Masterlist

You’re way too pretty to work in this place”, the remark came out of the older man you were taking care of in one of the patient rooms. A superficial 2 cm facial laceration on his forehead had you straining to get close enough to suture it but not too close as to come in contact with the spit flying from his mouth with every word.

You laugh uncomfortably, hands trying not to shake while threading the 4.0 nylon through his skin. “Thank you sir, but let’s get back to taking care of you” you try to assert with as much dominance as possible for a first-year intern two weeks into the job.

You hadn’t done your emergency medicine externship at PTMC, or as everybody calls it “the Pitt”, but the state of the art trauma center and the multitude of fellowships offered made it an appealing first choice for residency. When you landed in the ED in July, it was like you were knocked off your feet. The ER you did your emergency medicine rotation was a small rural hospital focused more on providing primary care to older adults that had fallen through the cracks of the healthcare system. It seemed that the sirens rang as soon as the automatic double doors opened and had yet to stop. Every trauma case was like trying to take a sip out of a fire hydrant.

This facial laceration was the closest thing to a breather you’ve had all week, courtesy of Dana. Robby, armed with the knowledge that your emergency medicine residency was closer to one in geriatric medicine, pulled you into every single car accident, gunshot wound, and abdominal bleed possible. It wasn’t just that he physically strongarmed you, usually by the scruff of your pale pink pullover, into the room, he also managed to ask you every single question possible about the course of treatment.

You knew it was ridiculous. No matter how much his hands lingered on your shoulders at the nurses station or how much it seemed that his eyes wandered down to your lips and sometimes lower. You knew that he was just being polite. He was trying to be a good teacher and you were warping it to become something incredibly inappropriate. Especially after you’re near breakdown in the ambulance bay a couple days ago, you’ve been avoiding him. Instead choosing to work with Samira’s more mellow pace or Mel’s in-depth analytic approach. It was working. Your nervous system finally felt regulated. The throbbing in your temples, triggered no doubt by the constant battle between your sympathetic and parasympathetic nervous system, finally quieted down without the abuse of tension-headache pills.

The reprieve offered by distancing your self from Robby’s piercing questions and heavy gaze was slowly cracking with your current patient. Although the laceration came together quickly, a mere 3 sutures, the conversation with him seemed to one-sidedly drag.

“So what do you like to do in your free time?” The falsely genuine question was laced with something more dangerous.

“Unfortunately, I haven’t had a lot of free time recently” you tried to shut down the conversation. But he wouldn’t let up.

“Oh c’mon now,” he guffawed. “Don’t be so dramatic, it’s not like you’re working every hour of the day.”

“Yea, well I kinda am. I’ve been sleeping here for the past 3 days. I haven’t seen my bed, house, or plants, which are undoubtedly dying in the Sahara desert that is my shoebox apartment. I clock in over 85 hours a week, not to mention the travel time factored in when I can go home. And it doesn’t even matter that I work that much because when you average everything out, I could make more working at Sonic.”

Except you don’t open your mouth. You keep quiet and hope the maniac craze in your soul was disguised under the modest half-smile you offered him.

You try to speed up the process. Quickly ripping the package of bacitracin open and trying to spreading the goop on his forehead. Just as you were about to remove the applicator from his skin, he lightly grabs your wrist.

Your heightened senses begin to send alarm bells down your spine. It’s not a tight hold. You could definitely wiggle your way out of its current status, but his position and your back to the door were the perfect recipe for a disaster.

“Is there something else you need, sir?” You squeak out while trying to gently pull your fingers out of his grasp. He tightens his hold. You’re breathing increases, the sweat on your neck from the beaming lights exchanged for a chilling breeze down your back.

“I think you know exactly what I need sweetheart.” The pet name was cloying. You start to panic more.

“I’m sorry, I don’t know what you are talking about. We can have this conversation as soon as you let go of my hand.” The demand angers him. The once light touch transformed into a bruising grip. His other hand came out of his lap to make its way onto your waist. He pulled you in. The residual alcohol, from what you deduced earlier was a bad case of day drinking, was apparent and stinking up your nostrils. You try to angle your neck away from his wandering lips. Struggling to breathe with the panic shooting through you.

“Don’t be such a bitch. I’m just asking you to do your job and provide me with world-class care.” He jumps off the patient bed but still manages to have a tight grasp on you. “That’s the mission of the hospital is it not?”

He leans further in. You can now see the divets in his crack lips, a result of dehydration. You begin to struggle against him more. Pulling yourself with all your might away from his body. The thoughts of de-escalating the situation independently flew out the door and you started to yell.

“Security! Secur-“

He lets go of your hand but only to grab the scissors that you used to suture him up. You turn for a split-second and the only thing that registered was a closed fist and a sharp blade racing at you with super speed.

Suddenly you’re on the floor. Dana is by your head trying to get the wad of 4x4 gaze in her hands to soak up the blood pooling out of your face. Ahmad and Robby have the man restrained. You try to look up. You can see Robby’s face. Anger mottled his normally serene features and rage blazed in his eyes as he tightened his grip on the patient’s arm. You’ve never seen him this angry before. Not even when misdiagnosed a STEMI 2 days ago.

“Robby.”

Your whisper across the room is picked up by your attending. He quickly nods to Ahmad and lets him takeover until the police arrive. He rushes down to where you are. Keeling awkwardly to avoid the puddle of red by his shoes.

“Hey hey hey, we’ve got you.” He strokes your hair away from your nose. It was swollen to double its size.

“Robby, it hurts.” You moan out pitifully.

“I know, I’m so sorry baby”

Dana looks at him. The surprise in her eyes at the nickname lasted for a millisecond before she turned her attention back to your injuries.

“Wha-, what happened?” You croak. Your hand comes up to touch your face and feel around your nose.

“Wait don’t tou-“ Dana tries to warn you. But before she could you pull your blood soaked hands away with a hiss

“Ow. Ow. Ow.” Tears start to spring in your eyes.

Robby feels around before pulling your hand into his much larger one. His other hand continues to caress your face. He’s never been this close to you before. Although, getting attacked by a patient was never a good thing, you were filled with an unknown kind of warmth to be in the position to count every single one of Robby’s freckles.

“He punched you in the nose. There’s some swelling and you’re next in line for a CT scan to make sure that there’s no issues with your septum. He also somehow managed to cut you pretty good on your cheek. There’s a 3 centimeter cut and it looks pretty deep but nothing a couple stitches won’t fix.”

“The suture skit scissors” You realize out loud.

“What did you say baby? The nickname now catches you by surprise. You blubber around trying to fathom why you’re older, wiser, and hotter attending voiced such words of affection towards you.

“He got me with the scissors that I used for his wound care.” You finally say.

“That motherfucker,” Robby grumbles. The kindness in his eyes morphed back into a murderous gaze which he now fixed upon the patient. The police has finally arrived and started to do their rounds of questioning.

BEEP-BEEP-BEEP

The pager on Dana’s scrubs goes off. She glances down to read the urgent message.

“Okay. The scanner is ready to take her up. I’ll go with her. You stay here Robby and make sure that the police get an accurate statement on that asshole”

Robby looks like he wanted to argue. He didn’t want to leave her side. She was vulnerable and mentally altered. But he knows that it would look suspicious for him to take such an interest in an intern. Even if it was a workplace injury.

So he untangles his fingers from yours, with a heavy heart. He almost changes his mind when you whimper in pain out as Dana and him try to get you onto a gurney. You looked so small on the bed. Your frame shrunken in and face hidden behind the crook of your neck so that your coworkers won’t buzz about the swelling of your face or the ongoing bleeding.

Part 1 of robby x intern reader

Part 2 | Part 3 | Series Masterlist

Tags: robinavitch x intern reader, hurt/comfort, angst, possible allusions to reader not having the best home life, robby can’t blow his cover, Langdon is an ass (he’s my ass but still an ass)

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Give me the story, what’s wrong with the patient?” Robby calls out to you deciding to forgo the gloves for this case.

You muster up the confidence to look at his twinkling brown eye. “Twenty-four year old male was pulled out of the rubble from a construction warehouse collapse. He was trapped under the concrete for 2 hours before the paramedics found him in the field. BP is 86 over 50, tachycardic at 132, and severe complaints of right leg pain.”

“What have we done so far, doctor?”

You look around, Princess was inserting the Foley catheter while the 2nd bag of IV fluids was being hung. Dr.Mohan has just ordered fentanyl to be given for the pain and the phone was ringing, probably an update from the lab regarding the patient’s blood results.

“C’mon doctor, he doesn’t have all day.”

The back of your neck starts to dampen. Your breaths start to pick up in speed and lose their normal easy flow. You look up at Robby, the wrinkles in his forehead deepen and his ungloved fingers tap out an impatient rhythm on the side of his thigh. Samira’s eyes ping pong between the two of you. The wise, old attending and the meek younger intern. She tries to catch your gaze to offer some sympathy and maybe telepathically communicate the answer to you before Robby gets on your back, but you were slowly losing sight of the case in front of you.

It’s like you’re transported back two decades. Robby’s looming figure exchanged with one more sinister. The trauma bay transformed into another room decorated with frames of a picturesque family on the four walls. A crack of a wooden stick, a stack of broken plates by the dining room table, a smaller version of you hiding behind the couch trembling with the fear of admitting to your mistake.

“We hung two liters of IV fluids, inserted a Foley catheter, and the potassium came back from the i-STAT at 6.2. Urine output is very minimal at 10 milliliters. The differential is currently crush syndrome with possible rhabdomyolysis leading to acute kidney injury. ”

Dr.Langdon interjected, obviously impatient with your floundering, as his hands sat on his head and the balls of feet couldn’t manage to stay on the floor for longer than half a second. You finally catch Samira’s gaze across the patient as she finally turns to glare at Frank.

“I believe Robby asked her, Frank.”

“Well don’t expect every single person to move at your pace Slo-Mo.”

“And not all of us need-”

“That’s enough. Both of you” Robby bellows out and cuts through the bickering individuals until the only sounds heard by you were the beeping of the machines and your own shallow breaths.

You could feel his gaze travelling back to you but there was no possible way that you could lift your eyes to meet his. A lump the size of concrete that had fallen on your patient settled in your throat. You could feel the tear glands in your eyes start to perk up at the thought of becoming a disappointment.

Robby noticed your eyes darkening and the corner of your bottom lip started to quiver. The bright light in your gaze dimmed and was overtaken by what he could only categorize as a trauma flashback. He wanted nothing more than to reach out, grab you by the neck of that ridiculous jacket you took so much pride in wearing, and hold you until you came back to him.

Robby wasn’t sure why he felt so strongly towards you. You were just another intern, bright-eyed and bushy-tailed. Eager to soak up all of his knowledge like a sponge even though your previous ER training had been abysmal. He was smitten from the moment that you walked in. Your pink stethoscope hanging around your neck, a dainty necklace dangling between your collarbones, and all the light in the world haloed around your being.

Everyone else in your batch of residents would’ve stood out more to any other attending. Javadi was the child prodigy who graduated high school at the age of 13 and could recite every single medical journal published in the last 5 years. Santos had the mouth of a sailor out on day three of an unsuccessful voyage and also managed her patient care with the same hotheadedness. Mel could meticulously pick out gravel and simultaneously successfully manage the entire neurodivergent population in the ER.

As much as he yearned to whisk you away from here. Away from the beaning lights. Away from the constant rush in triage. Away from the constant run of the hamster wheel. He couldn’t. He redirects himself back to his role as your teacher. Robby wishes that he could give you more time to gather yourself but he knows that Mohan and Langon would look at him with confusion. He needed to be the same stern attending that he was with everyone else. No special treatment.

And so he asks, “What else could be included in the differential?”

You try to swallow the lump in your throat first before answering. Fear runs through you and you hope that there’s no trembling in your tone. “Hemorrhagic shock and traumatic vascular injury.”

“Good. Look at his legs, what do you observe?”

“His calves are swollen and rock hard-”

“That’s what she said.” The remark flew out of Frank’s mouth before he could stop himself. Robby shoots a glare at him before nodding for you to continue.

“The next move to save his legs would be a fasciotomy” You finish your statement in a whisper. Beads of sweat, formed by the hot lights, drip down the back of your neck.

“Princess, prep both legs for a fasciotomy.” Robby calls out, “Would you like to-”

Before he could finish the sentence you excuse yourself from the room under the pretense of going to the bathroom. You rush around the corner of the department before bursting through the doors of the ambulance bay. The breeze of the afternoon provides a cooling effect to your sweat-laden body. Your knees buckle and your breaths come out in pants.