warnings : fem!reader x cassie mckay . nsfw , mdni . oral (r!receiving) . fingering . (r!receiving) . marking (r!receiving) . minor injury (finger cut, blood mention) .
synopsis : after a long shift and a small kitchen accident, cassie slips into doctor mode to patch you up. but the way she takes care of you turns into something much less clinical and a lot more intimate.
notes : just a silly idea that came to mind and had to be written asap. i need this woman sb sigh
you’d had a long day, the kind where everything at work dragged on forever, emails piling up and your boss nitpicking every little thing. by the time you got home to the apartment, all you wanted was to throw together a quick dinner and crash on the couch with cassie. the place smelled like the lavender candle you’d lit earlier that morning. you kicked off your shoes by the door, padding into the kitchen in your socks, the cool tile floor a relief against your tired feet. the fridge hummed softly as you pulled out carrots, onions, and some chicken, figuring a simple stir-fry would do the trick.
cassie had texted you she’d be home soon, her shift at the hospital running a bit over as usual. you heard the door click open maybe twenty minutes later, the jingle of her keys hitting the bowl on the entry table. “hey, baby,” she said, voice already carrying that tired rasp from yelling orders in the er all day. you glanced over your shoulder, smiling as she shrugged off her jacket, still in her scrubs that always looked so good on her, the fabric a little wrinkled from the chaos of her shift. her hair was pulled back in a messy ponytail, strands escaping around her face, and she had that focused look, like she was still half in work mode. she kissed your cheek, then dropped her bag by the couch and flopped down, letting out a deep sigh that made her shoulders slump.
“rough one?” you asked, starting to chop the carrots on the cutting board, the knife making sharp thuds against the wood. she nodded, rubbing her eyes. “yeah, non-stop. had a kid come in with a broken arm, then a car accident pile-up. barely sat down.” her voice was low, that gravelly edge from exhaustion kicking in, and it sent a little shiver down your spine. you loved when she talked about her day like that, all professional but casual, like she was debriefing with you. she stretched her legs out on the coffee table, the scrubs pulling tight over her thighs, and you had to force yourself to focus on the veggies instead of staring.
you kept chopping, the rhythmic slice of the knife calming in its own way, the crisp snap of the carrots breaking under the blade. the onion next, its sharp scent hitting the air immediately, making your eyes water a tad. you wiped them with the back of your hand, blinking hard. cassie glanced over from the couch, her phone in hand as she scrolled through whatever - probably emails or some medical article. “need help?” she offered, but you shook your head. “i got it. you just relax.” she hummed in response, that soft sound vibrating through the room, and you felt a warmth settle in your chest. living together like this was nice, the little routines you’d built, her coming home to you cooking, sharing the space that felt so much like home now.
but then the knife slipped, just a bit too much pressure on a stubborn carrot, and the blade nicked your finger, slicing clean through the skin. “shit,” you hissed, dropping the knife with a clatter on the counter, blood blooming bright red on your fingertip. it stung sharp and immediate, like a paper cut on steroids, throbbing with each heartbeat. you grabbed a paper towel, pressing it against the cut, but the blood soaked through quick, warm and sticky between your fingers.
cassie’s head snapped up at the sound, her eyes locking on you instantly. “what’s wrong?” she asked, already on her feet, crossing the room in a few strides. she took your hand without hesitation, peeling back the paper towel to inspect the damage, her touch cool and sure. “okay, let me see… how deep?” her voice dropped into that low and raspy tone, all business but with that underlying softness she reserved for patients, and you.
you tried to play it cool, but the way she held your hand, thumb pressing lightly on the side to stop the bleeding, made your pulse pick up for reasons that had nothing to do with the cut. “it’s not bad, just clumsy,” you muttered, but she shook her head, leading you over to the stool by the counter. “sit,” she commanded gently, hands pressing down on your shoulders, and you obeyed, perching on the edge as she turned to grab the first aid kit from the upper cabinet. the stool was a bit wobbly, creaking under your weight, and the counter felt cold against your elbow as you leaned on it.
she pulled up another stool right in front of you, knees bumping yours as she sat close, her scrubs brushing your bare legs since you were in shorts. the fabric was soft, worn from washes, and you could feel the warmth of her through it. “alright, first things first, we gotta clean it,” she said, her voice that perfect mix of calm and authoritative, the rasp scratching just right. she turned on the faucet, testing the water temperature with her free hand before guiding yours under the stream. the cool rush hit the cut, making it burn fresh, and you sucked in a breath. the water swirled pink down the drain.
“easy, breathe slow,” she murmured, her face close to yours as she watched the wound rinse clean. her breath was warm on your skin, carrying a hint of the mint gum she chewed during shifts. “it’s gonna sting, but we need to get any dirt out… you’re doing fine.” that voice, god, it wrapped around you like a blanket, soothing but commanding, the same way she’d talk you through it in bed. you shifted a little on the stool, thighs pressing together unconsciously, the heat building low in your belly as you thought about her whispering similar words, guiding you with that same steady patience.
she shut off the water, patting your hand dry with a fresh towel, the soft cotton absorbing the droplets, her movements precise and gentle. “looks clean. no need for stitches, lucky you,” she said with a small smile, but her eyes were focused, determination shining through as she tore open an antiseptic wipe with her teeth. the sharp alcohol scent filled the space between you, stinging your nose before she even touched you. “this’ll be the worst part. hold still for me, okay?” she warned, and you nodded, biting your lip as she swiped the wipe over the cut. it burned, a hot flash racing up your arm, making you flinch, but she held your hand steady, her grip firm yet comforting.
“almost done,” she coaxed, voice dropping even lower, that rasp like velvet over gravel. her thumb stroked the back of your hand in slow circles, distracting you from the pain, and you focused on her soft skin instead. the kitchen light cast shadows on her face, highlighting the lines of exhaustion around her eyes, but she looked so in her element, and so pretty. it was hot, the way she switched into this mode, all compassionate and unflappable. your breath came a little shorter, not from the sting anymore, but from how close she was, how her knee pressed against your inner thigh as she leaned in.
she blew gently on the cut to ease the burn, her lips pursed, cool air tingling over your skin, and you had to swallow hard, the sensation shooting straight down. “better?” she asked, glancing up, her eyes meeting yours, and there was that knowing spark, she could read you like a chart. you nodded, but your voice betrayed you, coming out husky. “yeah… thanks.” she smirked faintly, grabbing the antibiotic cream and squeezing a bit onto her finger, rubbing it in with light pressure. the cream was cool, slick, easing the throb, but her touch lingered, fingertips tracing the edges of the wound unnecessarily, sending sparks up your arm.
“bandaid time,” she announced, unwrapping one and securing it snug around your finger, pressing down to make sure it stuck. her hands were warm from holding yours, and she didn’t pull away immediately, instead bringing your finger to her lips to plant a soft kiss over the bandaid. “all fixed.” you were squirming on the stool, the wood hard under you, trying to ignore the ache between your legs, but she noticed. of course she noticed, her eyes dropping to where your thighs clenched.
“something else hurting?” she teased softly with a small chuckle. her hands settled on your knees, thumbs rubbing idle patterns, pushing your legs apart just enough to make room. the counter dug into your back as you leaned against it, heart hammering. “cass,” you breathed, but it sounded needy, whiny. she chuckled low in her throat, leaning in until her nose brushed yours. “tell me,” she murmured, breath mingling with yours, mint and her natural scent overwhelming.
“you… in those scrubs, being all doctor-y.” you admitted, hands finding her waist, fingers bunching the fabric. she grinned as she hooked her fingers under your shirt hem, tugging it up. “yeah? like when i take care of you?” her voice was low and intimate, and you nodded, lifting your arms to let her pull the shirt off, the cool air hitting your skin, nipples hardening instantly. she tossed it aside, eyes raking over you, then her hands were on your shorts, unbuttoning them slow.
“up,” she said, tapping your hip, and you lifted, letting her slide them down with your underwear, the material dragging over your thighs, leaving you bare on the stool. the wood was smooth but sticky now from your arousal, and she knelt down, knees hitting the tile with a soft thud. she looked up at you, hands gripping your thighs, spreading them wider, the cool air teasing your exposed skin. “gonna make you feel better,” she promised, voice gentle but with that commanding undertone, and you threaded your fingers in her hair, pushing her bangs out of the way.
she leaned in, breath hot against your center, making you twitch, then her tongue flicked out, slow and deliberate, tasting you. the first contact was electric, wet heat dragging up, and you gasped, head falling back against the cabinet with a thunk. she hummed approval, the vibration buzzing through you, and started in earnest. tongue circling your clit, then flattening to lick broad stripes, the wet sounds obscene in the quiet kitchen. her fingers dug into your thighs, nails biting just enough to ground you, the slight pain mixing with pleasure as she sucked gently, pulling a moan from your throat.
“fuck, cassie,” you panted, tugging her hair, and she glanced up, eyes dark and intense, mouth glistening. “too much?” she asked, pulling back a fraction, strings of saliva connecting her to you, but you shook your head. “no, keep going.” she dove back, tongue probing deeper now, fucking into you slow before returning to your clit, swirling faster. the kitchen smelled like dinner half-prepped and the faint musk of your arousal, her scrubs scratched lightly against your calves as she shifted closer.
you were building embarrassingly quick, thighs quivering around her head, the stool groaning under your shifting weight. she could tell, murmuring against you, “come for me, baby. i’ve got you.” the words vibrated right to your core, her voice coaxing pushing you over, and you came with a silent cry, body arching, waves crashing through you. she licked you through it, gentle laps until you were oversensitive, pushing at her shoulders with a whimper.
she stood up slow, wiping her chin with the back of her sleeve, that satisfied smirk playing on her lips as her eyes locked onto yours. she didn’t say a word at first, just reached out and grabbed your waist, her fingers digging in just enough to make you feel grounded, pulling you off the stool with ease. your legs were shaky from what she’d just done, but she steadied you, turning you around to face the counter. the granite was ice cold against your forearms as you braced yourself, the shock of it against your heated skin making you gasp softly, goosebumps racing up your arms. you pressed back into her without thinking, feeling the warmth of her body mold against yours.
“lean forward for me,” she murmured low in your ear, her voice that perfect rasp, like gravel wrapped in silk, sending shivers straight down your spine. her hand slid up your back, pressing you down just a little more, arching you perfectly, while her other hand trailed down your thigh, teasing the sensitive skin there. you could feel her breath hot on your neck, her chest rising and falling against you, syncing with your own ragged inhales. she kicked your feet a bit wider apart with her foot, opening you up more, and you bit your lip, the anticipation building like a coil in your gut.
“god, look at you,” she whispered, her fingers finally dipping between your legs, circling your entrance slow, collecting the wetness that was still dripping. the touch was light, almost torturous, making you whine and push back against her hand. “so wet for me. just from me patching you up?” her voice was full of praise, that low rumble vibrating through you, and you nodded, head dropping forward as her fingers kept teasing, dipping in just the tip before pulling back.
“please, cassie,” you breathed, voice needy, nails already scratching lightly at the counter for something to hold onto. she chuckled softly against your shoulder, nipping the skin there gently, her free hand sliding up to cup your breast, thumb brushing over your nipple in lazy circles. “patience, baby. i’ve got you. just let me make you feel good.” she pressed a kiss to the spot she’d nipped, soothing it with her tongue, and finally, her jaw went slack as she slid two fingers inside you easy, curling them deep right away. the stretch was perfect, filling you up, and you moaned, arching back into her which made her let out a ragged breath.
“fuck… yes,” she groaned, her own breath hitching as she felt you clench around her. she set a slow rhythm at first, thrusting in and out deliberate, her palm grinding lightly against your clit with each push forward. the kitchen echoed with the wet sounds of it, mixing with your gasps and her soft grunts. her body pressed closer, her scrubs rubbing against your skin, the fabric warm and textured, making every movement feel more intimate.
“you’re doing so well, taking my fingers like this,” she praised, voice raspy and close, her lips brushing your ear. “right there, yeah?” she curled her fingers again, hitting that spot that made stars burst behind your eyes, and you whimpered, nodding frantically. “yes, right there, don’t stop.” she sped up a little, her thrusts firmer now, thumb finding your clit and rubbing steady circles that had your thighs trembling. her other hand pinched your nipple gently, rolling it between her fingers, sending jolts straight to your core.
“oh, you like that, huh?” she rasped, biting your neck lightly again, then licking over the mark. “tell me how it feels, sweetheart. i want to hear you.” her words were like fuel, making the heat build faster, and you pushed back harder against her, meeting her thrusts. “feels so good, cass. you’re making me… fuck, i’m so close already.” she hummed in approval, her breaths coming ragged now, hot against your skin as she leaned over you more, her weight pinning you just right. “that’s my girl. you’re so tight… come on, give me another one. i know you can.”
the rhythm built relentless, her fingers hooking deeper with each thrust, thumb pressing harder on your clit, circling faster. sweat beaded on your forehead, the counter cool under your arms contrasting the fire everywhere else. her free hand left your breast to tangle in your hair, tugging gently to tilt your head back, exposing your neck for her to kiss and suck, leaving little marks that stung sweet. “such a good girl for me, hm?” she praised, her voice steady even as her own hips ground against you subtly, like she was getting off on this too. “you’re gonna come so hard for me, aren’t you?”
“yes… fuck, cassie,” you said, voice breaking as the pressure mounted, coiling tight. she thrust harder, the wet squelches louder, her palm slapping against you with each push. “that’s it... i’ve got you, baby. you can come for me.” her words pushed you over the edge, clenching hard around her fingers, vision blurring white as you came again, louder this time, body shaking uncontrollably. waves crashed through you, toes curling, and she held you through it, murmuring praises the whole time - “so beautiful, fuck, you’re perfect” - her fingers slowing but not stopping until you were whimpering, oversensitive.
she pulled out gently, wrapping her arms around your waist from behind, pulling you upright and turning you to face her. your legs were jelly, but she held you close, kissing you. “you okay?” she asked softly, thumb stroking your cheek, her voice soft. you nodded, nuzzling into her neck, the afterglow humming through you.
“we can order takeout instead,” she joked with a small laugh.
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