#intern reader

Of course <33

Platonic Yandere Superman with Intern Reader

It was a quiet day at the Daily Planet, Clark was busy printing something off when Perry came up to him. He claps Clark on the back, and Clark turns to him, startled.

“Heya Clark. I got a new intern. You’re gonna show them the ropes today. I’m too busy to deal with em.” Perry dismissively waves at you, who is standing behind him.

“Oh.. uh.. sure Perry.” Clark stutters, “that’s fine..”

Perry grunts as he walks away after dumping you on Clark. Clark sets down  the papers in his hands so he can properly introduce himself to you.

“Hi.. I’m Clark.” He holds out his hand for you to shake, and you take it eagerly.

“Like the Clark that interviews Superman..? That’s so cool!” You beam up at him. Clark’s heart almost bursts out of his chest.

“Y-yeah.. that one.” He chuckles nervously. What are these feelings? He’s never had them before, is this some weird Kryptonian instinct? He needs to figure it out.

“Wow.. is he nice?” You ask Clark, pulling your hand out of his as you expectantly look up at him for an answer.

“He’s very nice..” Clark answers, his hands are shaking a little bit as he looks at you. He has the strong urge to scoop you up and fly you somewhere comfortable and safe.

He restrains himself, asking you for your name.

“My name is Y/n.” You tell him your name. Clark gulps down his feelings. The name is perfect for you, it fits you perfectly.

“That’s a nice name..” He compliments casually, picking up his paper from the printer. “Uh.. let’s go over to my desk, I guess.”

He leads you back to his desk, he borrows a chair from the cubby next to his, his coworker beside him is on vacation so Clark is sure she wouldn’t mind if he borrowed her chair.

“Here you go.” He pulls the chair up beside him, letting you sit beside him and watch him work.

“This is the editing software we use.. we just implemented it so I’m still a bit rusty..” He says to you quietly, glancing over to you for a second and immediately regretting it. You are looking right at him, you are absorbing every word.

He has to look away from you, or else he might not be able to look away.

“So uh.. how did you get this internship?” He asks, trying to change the subject as he types on his computer, fixing some small editing mistakes on the piece he’s working on.

“I applied through my college. They have a lot of programs for this sort of stuff.” You explain to him, foot tapping on the ground. Are you anxious? Nervous?? Clark swipes his hair back to distract himself from his sudden wave of worry.

“That’s cool. We don’t get a lot of interns on this floor. You’re lucky.” Clark keeps the conversation running, trying to keep his eyes locked on the computer screen.

“Really?” You ask him, leaning back in your chair. “I’m not gonna be demoted to coffee duty?” You try to joke. Clark cracks a small smile at your joke.

“No.. I won’t let Perry do that.” He soothes you, he can hear how loud and fast your heart rate is. He can tell that you are nervous and that you don’t want to be on coffee run. “Try not to worry too much, yeah?”

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.

Not proofread (sorry not sorry)

Frank Langdon did not play favourites. He was perfectly reasonable and fair teacher. Sure, he wanted you on all his best cases, and maybe he let you do most of the exciting procedures, and maybe sometimes he helped you chart, but it’s not like he was playing favourites!

He’d only known you four days, and they were proving to be the best four days of his life. A fresh batch of interns and you seemed to draw his attention in every way, he couldn’t help himself; he wanted to be on all your cases, he wanted to chart with you, he wanted to pick your brain every time you looked off into the distance pondering a case. In a completely normal co-worker way, obviously!

“Dr Robby can I present?” He heard your voice across the nurses station and his head jerked up.

“Oh! I can take it!” He said immediately, pushing himself up from his stool.

Robby would think he was just trying to clear his plate and be helpful… and he was! He swears he’s just being helpful.

Even if he wouldn’t do this for any other intern. Even if when he gently takes the tablet from your hands, your fingers brush and it feels like he’s just touched heaven itself.

Maybe he was in deeper than he thought.

————

Hiya, it's not romantic or anything, more of a familial bond between the two but I hope you enjoy!

Warnings: homophobic parents, getting kicked out because of homophobic parents

“I’m sorry.” You mumbled, wiping your eyes quickly before looking up. “I, er, I didn’t have anywhere else to go. I didn’t know what else to do.” 

I know you have a lot on your plate, it’s ok to deny or take as long as you need. Feel free to use this idea for other charecters :)

I love this gif

☣ Aw that's so sweet to hear, tysm!! I never thought anyone would enjoy my writing so much so that's really lovely to hear 🫶 I try my best to write well thought out stuff bc I honestly enjoy thinking about it lol

[𝙲𝙷𝚁𝙸𝚂'𝚂 𝙵𝙰𝚅𝙾𝚁𝙸𝚃𝙴 𝙸𝙽𝚃𝙴𝚁𝙽 𝚂/𝙾]

Summary: Reader gives Cody their jacket at Yukon + general headcanons. ☢︎ | Total Drama | ~1k words | gender-neutral reader ♡ | Cody ⚠ | haven't rewatched the episode so I'm only writing the episode as I remembered it with the help of the wiki lol

[𝙲𝚘𝚍𝚢]

⚠︎ | setting: Total Drama: World Tour

Cody really likes being around you.

You emit energy that just gives him that daily boost.

Whether it's your confidence and lightheartedness or a good joke, he usually has a smile while hanging around you.

He also likes to join in on playing the comedian with you if he feels creative, so you're a fun duo!

He's curious why Chris likes you so much.

I mean, he can see why, you're like, the best person ever to be around, (in his opinion) but still.

And you're kind enough to share anything extra with him!

You got him by a surprise when it first happened, as at the time you were friendly, but only briefly spoke to each other.

Next on the trip list was "Yukon". You knew it was gonna be cold. But being the TV host's favorite intern wasn't that bad, you knew you were probably gonna get decent clothing. As you expected, the temperature was freezing. But of course, Chris couldn't be cold, so he got himself a cozy and stylish jacket. You and Chef also got the blessing of getting something warm to wear, unlike the rest of the campers. You felt some hope after Chris announced that he ordered the jackets for the others, but it quickly washed away when you heard his response to Heather that "they should arrive in six to eight weeks". You sighed, but ultimately you were helpless to do anything. You took a liking to Cody, he was fun to be around and you thought his "tough man" was both entertaining and kinda sweet. I mean, at least he tried, right? You started talking in the short moments when you both had a break and a chance to interact with someone in between the challenges. You never went out of your way to help anyone as it was technically cheating, but you felt like you had to do something when you saw Cody freezing after he fell into the cold water and Sierra had to rescue him. You saw her throw him on the land from the floating ice block, thinking he's somewhat safe now, until you heard the abrupt sound of him hitting the nearby mountains which made you cringe from the secondhand pain. Once the camera focused on the other contestants trying to make it through the challenge, you sneakily approached Cody, who was visibly shaking while laying on his back and processing what just happened. "Oof- Dude, you alright?" You hovered above him with a concerned look on your face. "Y-Y/N?" He managed to stutter out while the cold tried to shut up him up. You offered him a hand so he could get up, to which he accepted with a shaking grip. Without a word, you gave him the only thing you had on you, your jacket. "T-That's for me?" He asked, a bit in disbelief for your kind act. "Of course, I can't let you freeze to death." You quickly explained with a smile on your face. "But what about you?" He questioned once more, seeing as you had nothing else to put on. "Hey, I haven't fallen into the freezing water, did I?" You pointed out, although you appreciated him worrying about you as well. "R-Right." He flashed a shaky smile and extended his hand as you passed him the clothing item. "T-Thank you." He tried to keep his teeth from grinding, which stopped as soon as he put it on. The cold was still biting your ass, but at least you felt good knowing he wasn't about to die anymore. Cody started to feel a bit awkward seeing you start to shake, though. "Hey- now that you're the one being cold, I feel kinda selfish here." He admitted, halfly-joking. You took a second before responding. "Well- There's always an option with huddling for warmth" You responded, also halfly-serious. You didn't mind close contact and free warmth, so you hoped Cody wouldn't either. "Unless you got cold feet." You heard a slight chuckle come out of his lips after your words. "Okay. But only to break the ice." He put on a grin which showed his goofy tooth gap. He was pleasantly surprised with the amount of casualness from you, but also a bit lost on how to act, so he resorted to lightning up the mood as well. You reciprocated the giggle and stepped closer, feeling his body against yours. He hesitated a little, but finally embraced you into his arms. "Don't let Sierra see you though, you might make some enemies with her after that." He warned you only slightly serious about it.

Cody was far more casual and friendly with you after that one kind gesture.

And with time, he began to see you as legit one of the closest people he got to meet on the show.

But the thing that made him enamored in you was when you got to his heart through his stomach.

You knew that the teams had to endure Chef's horrible cooking each time they lost, and you were glad when you didn't have to worry about the food being a probable cause of your death when Chris gave you your share of the meals. So, naturally you also wanted to grant that opportunity to your close acquaintance as well. Per usual, you approached Cody after you had a moment to yourself. "Hey Codemeister, what's up?" He turned his head towards you as he heard the familiar tone of your voice. "Y/N, hey!" His face lighted up and he straightened his back to properly look at you while sitting on the crappy, wooden seat, "Had your dinner already?" You asked casually, sitting next to him. "If that's what you call it- yeah." He cringed at the economy class food. "Why?" "Well, I just had this cookie that i conveniently kept for you, so..." You slightly teased as your hand slowly got the packaged, delicious goods out of your pocket. "What, dude, no way!" He gasped slightly as he saw the cookie in it's glory. "It's mine?" "Yeah." You nodded with a smile, already happy about his excited reaction. "You're amazing!" He attacked you with a hug without thinking twice. You felt Sierra staring daggers at you.

Blitz's Intern (Helluva Boss) Yandere Blitz X Gender Neutral Intern List...

#Yandere #YandereBlitzo #YandereHelluvaBoss #YandereHeadcanons #Headcanons #HelluvaBoss #HellluvaBossBlitzo #Blitzo #BlitzoXReader #BlitzoXListener #Listener #Reader 

Blitz's Intern (Headcanons) Yandere Blitz X Intern Reader (Helluva Boss) 

[Hello, My Sexy Muffins! I am back with a new chapter! In this chapter, it is Yandere Blitz X Gender Neutral Intern Reader! So please enjoy this!]

(Disclaimer: Blitzo Is not yandere in canon, this is just for fun and not to be taken seriously at all. Simping for fictional characters and yanderes is fine just do not be illegal or gross about it yanderes are not ideal partners to have in real life! Also, remember to separate fiction from reality and headcanon from canon.)

(Once again please enjoy this chapter!) 

-Yandere Headcanons with Blitzo X Gender Neutral Intern Reader-

Tags: @the-shewxlf, @megant22, @sexywolfsfordays, @houseofrahl, @sterek-basically, @kittycatgirlmaddie, @misshinehou, @unbreakablevoices, @champagneblues, @dallysgreasergirl, @juliaspnlover, @cineyou, @lipstickstainsandwerewolfchains, @fallenangel-13x, @urwarriorangel, @bless-my-demons, @lunaskyhunter, @arkhamirwin, @fangirlnerd101​, @m-a-t-91​, @meanwhilesmiley​, @edithambroreigns​, @totallovelesson​@kxttykatmichael​

Word count: 1697

Author’s note: So, here’s one of the promised works, woohooo! My pack told me they aren’t familiar with the series, so it makes me even more excited to be able to introduce you to the astonishing world of House MD. :3 (Those of you who have never heard of the series: you might want to take a look at this video. I spent quite a bit of time with picking out the best that more or less sums up this complex series, and in the end, I settled on this one.) As for the picture, I’m not even the tiniest bit sorry ;) (I have a thing for uniforms and suits, seriously... if this is a disease then I’m incurably infected.)

Betas: @i-am-a-misguided-misfit, @lipstickstainsandwerewolfchains, @mixed-up-fangirl, @kittycatgirlmaddie, @fallenangel-13x, @the-shewxlf, @b-chocolatelover, @from2016, @safiac, @random-fandom-fangirl2112

Again, thank you your work, sweets!! ❤️

Masterpost

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I don’t have to hurry now, because we don’t have a new patient at the moment. Our last one was sent out of Princeton-Plainsboro safe and sound two days ago, and since then, I haven’t seen my boss’s—Gregory House’s—face. My colleagues have been busy with minor jobs, so the privilege of being in charge instead of House landed on me in the end; I have to take care of his private hours to deal with people who come to see a doctor for an illness as simple as a flu or a running nose. Of course, it was inevitable that Cuddy grew suspicious after she found everything perfectly documented and done in connection with that genius man’s consultation hours—hence, after one of the controls, she entered the room, only to find me sitting with the notepad overlapping my thighs, papers in hand, faking House’s signature on each one of them.

Since then, I’ve been forbidden to take care of the people and do House’s job instead of him, which is why my current task is to try to reach him through his phone and pray him back into the hospital to do his work properly instead of having me do it for him—but I know the only way to coax him back is finding a new case, but it’s not as easy as one might think; finding something that genuinely piques House’s interest is like looking for a needle in a hayrick.

Right now, I’m standing at the nurses’ desk with a random person’s file in hand, roaming over the lines idly just to kill the much time on my hands with my phone plastered between my cheek and shoulder to keep it in place, waiting for the dialling tone to end and hear House speak on the other end of the line—which never seems to happen.

Exhaling an exasperated breath, I place the document back into the folder holder before deciding to head to the ER. I need to find something to do, even if just a quick job, otherwise I’ll most likely go nuts by the end of the day due to a fried brain. I adjust the white labcoat and my ID card clipped to it, before picking up a stethoscope to hang it in my neck. Upon entering the ER, I look around to see a few nurses dealing with all the patients. Thankfully, upon scanning the area, I notice Allison Cameron; without thinking, I approach her in hopes she could help me, albeit she’s busy on her own.

“Hey, Cameron,” I greet her. She doesn’t even look at me, being too preoccupied with removing broken splinters of glass from a man’s skin with a tweezer.

“Lockwood,” she replies, only with a quick glance cast at me with a small smile in the corner of her mouth, then her blue gaze is already gone, focused back on her patient, resuming her task at hand.

“Do you have something for me?” I ask with just a touch too much desperation in my tone. I find myself cracking my knuckles in anticipation in the pockets of my gown.

“House is not back yet, is he?” She forms that as a question, but I have a feeling she meant that to rather be a declaration. She knows House like she knows the back of her hand—all those years she’s spent working for the man, she’s gotten used to his erratic behaviour.

“Nope. And he won’t pick his phone up either.”

“And he won’t do that unless he has a good reason to,” she points out the obvious to me; that much I know, too.

“So do you have or don’t have?” I insist stubbornly. I can’t let everyone just shake me off because it would be too inconvenient for them to find a task for me. I’m an intern, that’s part of what they are supposed to do for me. After a couple moments of contemplation, Cameron offers, “A police officer was transited here not ten minutes ago. Gunshot wound.”

“Where do I find him?” I ask immediately. She points behind me with a mild jerk of her chin, and I turn to see my new patient, but instead of himself, I find myself looking at a pale turquoise curtain. I hastily pick up every tool I’ll need to take care of the officer; I arrange everything on a metal tray before taking off towards the cop. Tucking the curtain away, I finally see him—laying on the bed, palms covering his body where the bullet passed through his skin, wide eyes now trained on me after his attention was attracted at me by the loud swoosh.

To be honest, when I was told that a member of the force was shot, I expected anything but an arrest-worthily stunning man. I thought I would find myself face to face with a tad obese man who consumes too many doughnuts during the free periods in his shift, maybe in his late forties, too—but instead of that, my patient is an attractive man with firm tones and a sculpted body. When I glance down at his chart where a nurse has previously written his data, I quickly calculate in my mind that he’s twenty-six. Years before I joined health-care, such a scenario had already been on my bucket list, but I wouldn’t have dared to think it would come true once.

Looking back into his eyes, a shiver runs down my spine when I notice how much his gaze has changed—now it conveys anger and impatience, and I would like to believe it’s not because of me, but because he was shot and is now frustrated that he can’t do justice in town.

“It takes ten minutes to treat a cop on the ER?” His voice stings me to the core, but I choose not to let his bitter remark get to me—just because he has a bad day, doesn’t mean mine has to be ruined, too. Instead of biting back something in response, I jovially smile at him as I set the tray down beside the hospital bed he’s occupying, after closing the curtain back behind me. The loud smack of the rubber gloves sharply reverberate around us as I’m putting them on.

“I imagine you don’t get to handle everything all at once, either,” I can’t resist commenting, but there’s no actual heat behind it. That seems to have the desired effect on him, though, because his stiff posture softens, tension apparently seeping out of his frame. I reach for a small cloud of cotton that I drench in the disinfectant just moments later. I grab the piece with a tweezer, then move to treat the abused area of the man’s skin. He pops the buttons on his uniform without a word, opening the garment up and revealing his naked upper body to me. It sways me a little, but I gain my strength back quickly. “This may hurt a little,” I say gently, but I must sound like I’m trailing off—and I probably am, because I’m transforming into the detached doctor I’m supposed to be at the moment.

The tiniest hiss is what I get in return to my warning as soon as the puffy material touches the wound. After I’m ready, I launch into fishing out the bullet from his body—no operation is needed, because it’s not in too deep, thanks to the bulletproof vest he wore, but had taken off before I approached him—now it’s laying on the chair stood next to his bed, long forgotten. The officer’s torso is covered in blood, and the more ministrations I do, the messier it gets, so from time to time I need to swipe him clean.

The silence settled between us is just stretching and stretching, none of us seems to have any intentions of breaking it anytime soon. Thus, the sounds of the rest of the ER encompass us—the intermittently ringing phones, the general hustle and bustle of people, patients and nurses included, a voice calling Dr. Wright to head to the nurses’ desk through the speaker, and conversations that are muted to low buzzing in our ears.

For some reason, I feel tempted to ask him how he got shot, so after a short consideration, I do just that. His answer throws me for a loop, however.

“I don’t know.”

“How can you possibly not know that?” I ask before I could stop myself and think otherwise. My hand stopped over his wound without my consent, but the bullet is out of him, and I only need to stitch him up now, so it’s fine. He doesn’t take my question personally—more so, he seems embarrassed about it. I instantly say it’s never mind, and go to resume my work, getting ready the needle and the thread, when he abruptly speaks up again. For some reason, it gives me the sense that he feels like sharing right now; not just anything, but his darkest secret, and he thinks I’m the perfect recipient of his honesty.

“I have no clue what happened. Suddenly I blacked out, then the next thing I know is that I’m in an ambulance on my way to the hospital.”

My eyebrows knit together in confusion, but refrain from commenting anything this time. I do ask him, “Did you black out after being shot or before that?”

The officer purses his lips into a thin line, apparently deep in thought to give me a plausible response. He ends up answering, “I’m not sure.”

The words barely leave his mouth when I’m muttering in a flurry, “Wait a second, I need to make an important call,” pulling off the gloves from my hands clumsily, while I’m already trying to reach for my cell phone. I put distance between the man and me, phone already plastered to my cheek and my other hand covering my free ear, find an abandoned and remotely silent corner outside of the ER, then wait for the dialling tone to stop before starting to talk.

(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

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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 ☺️

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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.”

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