Just In Case (Dr Jack Abbot x FemaleResident!Reader)
Summary: He had given Robby so much shit about Collins. "Really brother? One of your residents?" Then you had put in a request to move to the night shift and Robby had fucking signed off on it.
Warning: all my content is considered 18+ only, smut, age gap unspecified, reader is one of Jacks resident, fluff, smut, angst, happy ending, as always barely proofread or edited plz forgive me
A quick note: I know I promised this forever ago, but I'll be completely honest, this is NOT the story I started out to write! But holy fuck it took over with a mind of it's own and I really love the way it turned out so I hope y'll do too!! also, again, shout-out to the gif creater above because this one's still my fav
ENJOY!
~~~~~
He had given Robby so much shit about Collins. "Really brother? One of your residents?"
Then you had put in a request to move to the night shift and Robby had fucking signed off on it.
Jack liked you from the jump. Smart, witty, a little dark like he was and not afraid to jump into the chaos with no need to know how deep. You had fit right in on his shift and for a long time you were just his best resident. His BEST, fucking resident, because God you were good. Every trauma, every code, every shitty shift you were right there doing the work and it was clear you loved all of it.
Jack had asked Robby one morning, "So, what's the deal? Why'd you let her go? You usually like to keep the star pupils to yourself."
Robby had just made that face at him, that annoying one with the shrug. "Thought I'd make her your problem for awhile."
Then the next night Jack had to split up you and the R4 in the middle of the hub. "What in the actual fuck are you two doing?" His presence had been enough to put some distance between the both of you, but you were pissed and the R4 was not letting it go.
"She walked all over my case."
"Because you were fucking it up! That girl did not have time to wait, and I told you that three times."
"And I told you to stay in your lane, I'm your senior resident."
"You are a dipshit, that was going to kill that girl by lack of action."
"Enough." Jack didn't yell. He didn't need to. He stood, hands clasped behind his back, face hard and waited.
"Dr. Abbot, she has authority issues, and it's interfering with her patient care and everyone elses."
"I don't have an issue with authority," If looks could kill the R4 would have dropped dead. Then you turned that look on him and it didn't have the venom in it, but the fight was there, that unwavering confidence, "I have a problem with misplaced authority."
Jack had held your gaze as you'd said it then nodded. He'd sent you both on your separate ways and excused himself to the bathroom where he took a leak and then stood with his hands braced on the sink as he stared himself down in the mirror. "What the fuck?" He whispered to himself as he rocked side to side and shook his head at his own reflection. He should've been annoyed at you two, not himself, but something about that look you had given him. It was like it had flipped some sort of switch. Like suddenly you weren't just his best resident, you were also…
The bathroom door swung open, "Dr. Abbot, we have a code blue coming in, ETA 5 minutes."
He nodded, "Set up trauma two."
Every shift after that he caught himself thinking things he should not be thinking about his resident. Yes you were his best resident, talented and dedicated, but you were also gorgeous. Not that he had never noticed, but now it was something he couldn't help but pay attention to. In between patients, when you passed by him or stood a little too close, he felt his pulse quicken. He couldn't help but watch you a little closer, the way you were so soft and calm with nervous patients, the way you didn't take shit from the combative ones. The confidence you had in your abilities and the drive you had to be better.
Your eyes. Those beautiful fucking eyes that never shied away from him. Your smile. Not big and bright or soft or sweet. No, the one that drove him fucking crazy? That was the tiny one, the barely there tick of your lips, up to one side before you could fight it back. That one was his favorite, because it felt like he had to earn that one. Like he had done something, just enough, to get you to crack. Like there was something you were trying to keep to yourself and if he said the right thing, did the right thing, you'd show him what it was.
It had been a long night. A long week. Jack had gone up for some air and some quiet. He had his back leaned against the railing and hands in his pockets, eyes trained on the horizon.
The access door opened and he furrowed his brow. Robby wasn't working today.
When he looked over his shoulder the last person he had expected to see was you, just standing there with one of your easy smiles. "Need me, you could have called."
You just shrugged as you came closer. "Don't need anything, Day shift is trickling in." You came to lean next to him. Close enough to touch. "You good boss?"
Jack glanced sideways at you. Your hair was falling down, eyes tired, smile careful. He had to fight the urge to lean towards you, close that distance just to touch, even if it was just your shoulder against his. He shook his head, "Just one of those nights. You good?"
You nodded, leaned over the railing carefully to look down, "Do you actually think about it? When you come up here or is it just... a thing you do?"
He's not sure he would have been more surpised if you had slapped him. He looked at you long and hard. When you didn't flinch, didn't shy away, he shrugged. "Depends on the day." Jack cracks a little smirk for you, to ease the tension.
You smile back at him, unphased, as you stood up a little straighter. His eyes track your every move as you lean across the railing.
Jack had been wrong when he thought he couldn't be more surprised if you'd slapped him. Becuase the last thing he would have ever expected was that you would lean across the railing and kiss him.
It wasn't anything crazy. A quick brush of your lips over his. Not long enough. When you didn't pull back all the way he watched you close. Studied you. "Just in case." You shrugged as you finally stepped back.
You were about to turn and leave when he asked, "In case what?"
You gave him another smile, this time with something in your eyes that you didn't try to hide from him as the sun crept up over the skyline. "In case tonight was one of those nights."
It wasn't. It was one of those nights, but not one of THOSE nights. Jack liked that it hadn't been some big thing. Quick and light. He liked that you hadn't hesitated. He liked that if it had been one of those nights, you thought a kiss would have changed something. It changed everything.
"You know, the park beers is really more of a day shift thing."
You turned to the side and inwardly scolded yourself for not hearing him approach. "No beer." You shrugged but didn't offer up anything else.
Jack took another step closer, "Thinkin' about that kid?" He shrugged his backpack up higher and waited for your response.
You looked him over and even after the night you'd had, you had to fight back a smile because he looked good. This was your favorite version of Dr. Jack Abbot. Cargo pants, hair a mess and he'd pulled his scrub top off at some point and had worked the last couple hours in just atight, black t-shirt. You took a deep breath, "You goin' to tell me I did everything I could?"
He shook his head, "You already know that."
You nodded, "Yep."
"C'mon, I'll give you a ride home."
"Why?" You looked up at him, skeptical.
The grin he gave you washed all that away, "Just in case."
You thought maybe it would be awkward, letting Jack drive you home after what you'd done on the roof four shifts ago. It wasn't. Then when he had pulled up in front of your building, you thought for sure it would be awkward, but it wasn't. He just put the truck in park and tipped his head to catch your eye, "Go get some sleep okay." When you didn't move right away, he gave you a little nod, "I'll see you tomorrow."
You felt sick to your stomach suddenly, like you had been very wrong. "Jack…If I…"
He draped his wrist over the steering wheel and his eyes were soft, "Tomorrows a new day."
"Get that from Robby?" you tried to swallow down the bile in your throat, force a smile.
Jack shrugged, gave you a smirk. "Maybe. I mean it, get some sleep."
You had started to climb out of the truck, but your hand paused on the handle. You were always something of a go big or go home kind of girl. So, you turned back, leaned across the console and didn't give yourself or Jack the chance to think twice. You kissed him again. More than a quick peck this time and the air rushed out of your lungs when his lips moved with yours, slow and steady.
You were about to pull back when you felt the hand that had been draped over the steering wheel cradle the back of your head and keep you there.
When Jack did eventually let you pull away his eyes locked onto yours. "What was that for?"
You whispered, scared to get your hopes up, "Just in case I don't get another chance."
He dropped his head back against the headrest and held your gaze, "If I promise you'll get another chance, will you go upstairs and get some rest?" When you nodded he cracked a little smile, "I'll see you tomorrow."
~~~~~~
Giving you a ride home became a thing, not after every shift but more and more.
It felt like you both just craved that little bit of time alone, together. It wasn't even something seedy or scandalous, he would just... drive you home.
Sometimes you'd kiss him, sometimes he'd reach out for your hand and hold it the whole way to your apartment. At some point it turned into drive thru coffee. He didn't just pull up out front anymore, he'd park in a spot and you would talk.
Jack told you about his wife first. The broken part of him figured; get the rough stuff out of the way first. If you were going to change your mind that would do it, and he'd rather deal with it sooner than later. He told you and you had just held his hand, your thumb working circles over his palm with tears in your eyes. "I don't have the words Jack, God I wish I did..."
He didn't need you to have the words. The look in your eyes unwavering and the grip on his hand was enough. He had just shaken his head, throat still hoarse and had lifted the back of your hands to his lips. That was enough.
He told you about his leg. You never flinched once and this time it was him that stroked his thumb over your palm. Back and forth, where they rested together on the console. You had just leaned forward, held his gaze and told him it made him more of a man.
He told you about his PTSD, explained his little visits to the roof, told you about his therapist. You said you were proud of him, and leaned over to kiss him and steal the last bagel bite out of his lap. Jack had grinned, watched the way your face lit up to see it, even if your eyes were a little misty. "I want to tell him about you..." Jack waited, watched you like his life depended on it. Because, even then he knew this couldn't be casual, not for him, and if it was real he was going to do it right.
You had laughed and he panicked for half a second before you leaned in to kiss him again. "You mean, we've been working together this long and you haven't already complained about me to your therapist?"
He laughed, and God it felt like a gulp of air. He sank his hand into your hair and slammed your mouth to his. Kissed you like you'd never been kissed before.
The morning you had whispered, "Come upstairs?" He'd thought he might combust then and there. He had searched your eyes. Those gorgeous fucking eyes that never wavered under his. He'd never forget the pretty way you bit your lip, or the way your eyes flashed with something he hadn't seen yet when he gave you one more quick kiss and turned off his truck.
Any lingering thought or rationalization that you could be something casual went out the fucking window the moment you let him press you up against the inside of your apartment door and kiss you the way he'd been wanting to for months.
The way you gasped and moaned so pretty for him when he pinned your wrists over your head with one hand and slipped the other inside your scrub pants. "Jesus Christ sweetheart..." He murmured into your ear when he felt how hot and wet you were for him.
"Jack," Your eyes fluttered closed as he eased the first, thick finger inside you, "Shit." You fidgeted, tried to chase his hand with your hips, but you didn't fight his hold on your wrists or the way he pressed you into the hard surface. You groaned, showed your teeth in something between a smile and a snarl as he gave you a second finger, but did not change his rythym.
He kept his strokes slow, steady, deep. Kissed every part of you he could reach at this angle. Your neck, the hollow of your throat the shell of your ear, before always returning to your mouth. "Feel good?"
You nodded, frantic, gave him an airy, 'Mhmm."
"Yeah?" He mouthed at the soft spot just below your ear as he finally sped up his movements and felt the way your pussy quivered and clenched around his fingers. Jack smiled as he moved up to rest his forhead against yours, "Yeah..." He answered himself as he studied your face, felt the warm puffs of air as you panted and gasped, his palm resting over your clit as he drove his fingers deeper.
"Oh shit, shit," Your words cut off with a groan as he pressed against the little bundle of nerves harder.
"Yeah?" He licked his lips and fought back a smirk as he kissed you softly, pulled his fingers out and circled them over your clit. Firmer, faster. "Going to cum for me already, aren't you sweetheart?"
"Yeah." You chased after his kiss like you needed it to breathe, your weight sinking into his hand begging for more.
Eyes locked on yours, foreheads together he gave you a little nod, "Yeah, go ahead," He sped up the circling of his fingers until both of you were breathing heavy, "Go ahead, sweetheart, go ahead."
When your eyes fluttered and rolled back Jack didn't stop, only pressed you harder into the door and kissed you in the most unholy way as you came apart for him.
Slowly as you can back down he eased off the pressure of his fingers, slipped them back inside of you and relished in the little convulsions he felt as he gave you long, slow, steady strokes. He teased at your lips, kissing and nipping until you giggled and he finally released your hands from above your head. "Good girl." He whispered as he gave you a final kiss and pulled back.
The look in your eyes told him this probably couldn't be casual for you either.
You laughed when he ducked, lifted you up by the thighs and carried you towards your bedroom.
"Don't laugh, I'm not that old." He chuckled with you into the hollow of your throat. A chuckle that turned into a groan when you carded your fingers into his already messy curls and tugged.
He had laid you down on the bed and stripped you naked as fast as possible. Desperate to get his hands, his mouth on every inch of you until you whined his name and fisted your hand in the back of his scrub top.
Jack smiled against your hip, "What?"
"Off."
"What?" He asked again as he sucked a little bruise into the smooth skin before him.
You groaned, half annoyed and half giddy, and shoved at him until he looked you in the eyes, "Take your fucking shirt off."
He chuckled, gave you a grin and rose up to his knees so he could reach behind him and pull his scrub top and undershirt off in one go. Jack couldn't help but take that half a second, to watch you hum happily and chew on your lip, to let it stroke his ego, before he buried his face between your legs.
~~~~~~
He had put it off as long as he could, shoved the thought aside and focused all of his attention on you. But, eventually, you had pulled and clawed at him until he crawled over you to cover your body with his and kiss you properly again. Jack let you take some of his weight as he kissed you, soaked in the warmth and the feel of you under him.
He knew he'd have to take his pants off, that the prosthesis would be some sort of jarring reminder and this would all be over.
He focused on your hands and how fucking good if felt as you stroked up the muscles of his back, hooked your fingers over his shoulders and pulled him closer. The way your fingertips skimmed over his arms, squeezing his biceps and smiling under his kisses like you enjoyed the way he felt. It had almost been involuntary. The jerk of his hips when you had skated your nails low over his sides, too low, too close to the waistband of his boxers where the band peeked up over the top of his pants. The way he had rolled his hips against yours and gave you a hint of just how badly he wanted you.
You made that happy little humming sound again and stroked your hands up over his back and down again. FIngertips leaving little divots under them as they moved. "Jack," Your voice was soft, airy and tight, "Am I gonna have to tell you to take your pants off too?" You fought for his eye contact and for the first time he couldn't give it to you.
Jack buried his face in your neck and kissed over your pulse, whispered his answer there instead, "Sweetheart," He breathed deep and Jesus you smelled like sex and sweat and soap and everything good in this world. "Only way this really works, is if I take the leg off." He waited. Expected the worst.
When you tugged on his hair he caved, lifted his head and looked you in the eye. You held his gaze and opened your eyes wide like you were about to make a point and wanted it to land, "Then take the fucking leg off," You cracked a smile, "Or I'm going to do it, and I have no clue how it works so..."
Jack fucking loved you. He knew he loved you, because he had said the first thing that came to mind, "Want me to show you?" With a chuckle and a nod you kissed him and with no hesitation answered, "Yeah, kinda."
So, as awkward and unsexy as it was, he showed you.
He showed you how the mechanism worked, grinned at you and shook his head as you tried to pull it off the first time. He'd turned an embarrassing shade of pink when he'd warned you, "It's not going to smell good. You know that right?"
You had scoffed, rolled your eyes at him. "I'm a doctor. I'm sure I can handle it."
Jack couldn't remember the last time he had laughed this hard. Especially not in bed, with a sexy, young woman, where ten minutes ago the only thing on his mind had been fucking your brains out. Now, you were collapsed on his chest and cackling uncontrollably with his prosthetic leg in one hand dangling off the side of the bed. All he could do was cradle the back of your head and try to catch his breath, because even as you were laughing, you were peppering kisses over his chest and he swore that if this didn't scare you away he would never let you go.
When you caught your breath and sat up, you set his prosthesis down by the nightstand and leaned in to give him a quick kiss. "Now, take your pants off."
His eyes followed you as you crawled off the bed and walked naked to the bathroom. He tried to fight down the nerves as he did shuck his other shoe, sock and his scrub pants off, then pushed himself up to lean against your headboard. He listened to a cupboard open and close, water run. When you reentered the room and tossed a bath towel on the bed and crawled back to him with a warm, soapy rag in your hand he furrowed his brow.
"I fucking dare you to make one sponge bath joke. I swear to God." You didn't hesitate as you knelt in front of him and began to run the rag over what remained of his lower leg. Your fingers massaging the aching muscles as you went.
All Jack could do was shake his head side to side as he let his eyes fall closed and his body sink deeper into your pillows.
~~~~~
Jack hadn't meant to zone out, but Christ it had felt too good. Your soft, capable hands working over the tension in his leg after a long shift. The relief it brought, physical and mental, was unbelievable. He barely noticed you had stopped until you had moved to straddle his lap and kiss up the side of his neck.
"Fall asleep on me?"
He chuckled, "Almost." and wrapped his arms around your waist to drag you closer.
"Feel good?" You copied his question from earlier, whispered it against throat.
"Too fucking good." His cock had softened some from the relaxation, but when he pulled you down to settle against him fully he could feel himself harden by the second. "You're too fucking good for me." He caressed from your knees, over your thighs, up your waist and ribcage, until his fingers traced over the line of your arms where they had wrapped around his neck.
"Don't say that." You kissed him, deep, and rolled your hips over him. Whined a little that his boxer briefs still kept you seperated from what you both wanted. The whine turned into a squeal as he flipped you over without warning, Put you on your back like you had started.
Jack hovered over you braced on strong arms. "You still want this?" He rocked his hips into yours and searched your eyes. He could see that you knew what he meant. Not just this, not just the moment, not just sex. Him. HIs past, his baggage, all the complications that a relationship with your attending would bring.
"Yes. All of it." You looked him in the eye and smiled. Cute and sweet. Drastically at odds with the way your hands were shoving his underwear down over his hips.
Then he watched those pretty eyes roll back in your head, because he wasn't going to waste another second not knowing what it felt like to be inside you.
Jack had panicked the first time he'd said he loved you.
He'd thought it from the start, but it had always felt to soon, too real, too say it out loud. To risk it.
Then he had woken up late one afternoon, after a restless few hours of sleep and you weren't in bed beside him. His mind, already primed for the worst case scenario after a long week, worried that you'd finally had enough. That he'd scared you away and you'd snuck off while he was asleep but, then he'd found you in the kitchen.
He paused at the corner and breathed deep as he watched you. Your back turned to him, in some t-shirt of his you'd dug out of a drawer to sleep in, hair tosseled from sleep. You were glaring at the coffee maker, arms crossed and swaying side to side, as if you could force the machine into expedience. He could feel the anxiety seep out of him as he watched you. Made his way to you.
"Where are your crutches?" Was how you greeted him, your voice rough and exhausted like him.
Jack just slid his arms around you waist and kissed the back of your head. Relished the feel of you sinking more of your weight back into him. "Bedroom." He shifted to place a kiss closer to your neck.
"Ja-ack"
"Wha-at?" He copied your tone and squeezed you tighter. He liked that you worried. With one hand he swept your hair to the side so he could kiss your neck and chuckled against it when you groaned. Annoyed, not aroused. "Been gettin' around just fine for over a decade baby."
You had grumbled, rolled your eyes, but leaned into him and smoothed your hands over his forearms, your thumbs traced the furrows in the muscle. "I know."
The coffee maker beeped, but you made no move to reach for a cup. Jack liked that you worried. He liked that you took up space in his home, in his life. He liked that you'd taken over half his bathroom, that his sheets smelled like you, that your car had a spot in his garage. He liked that you'd started teasing him about trying to get out of your lease as much time as you spent at his house. Hell, he'd pay off your fucking lease if it meant he could have you here, with him, all the time.
He wrapped his arms around you impossibly tighter and squeezed, smiled at the content little hum you let you and the way your head dropped back against his shoulder. His lips pressed against your temple, barely a kiss, "I love you."
There was no shocked expression on your face, no teary eyes, or fumbling words. Just that little smile, that ticked up in one corner, the one that he'd loved from the start. "I've been patiently waiting, but you were starting to make me nervous." You stood up and turned around in his arms. Smile wider as you wrapped your arms around his neck and your eyes flickered when he tightened his grip on your waist again. Locked you against him, arms flexing the way you always liked. Your lips brushed his briefly and then you pulled back to look him in the eye, "I love you too."
Saying it, finally, felt amazing. Like a weight off of his chest.
Hearing you say it, knowing that you meant it... felt like CPR, something bringing a piece of him back to life.
The two of you had mismatched shifts all week because you had covered some days for Cassie while she had court. So, if you saw eachother it was only in passing, at home or at the hospital. This would be your last shift on days before a weekend off and you would be back on nights, with Jack. Where you belonged.
Jack caught a glimpse of you as he walked in, but continued towards the hub where Robby was already packing up his bag like he was in a hurry.
"Hey brother, sorry but I got a thing, I got to run." Robby picked up his bag and met Jack at the corner of the station. "Your girl is goin' to do the handoff." He gave his friend a smug look as he held his fist out.
Jack scoffed, gave Robby the first bump, but gave him a shove with it. "Don't do that, and don't act like I don't know what your 'thing' is." Jack stared him down, "Let me know how it goes."
Robby nodded, "Yeah, I will. Have a good night man."
Lena and Dana looked up at Jack in unison as he dropped his bag into the chair and together they said, "She's in fifteen."
Jack scowled at the two of them, "Why are you all like this?"
Lena just chuckled and ducked out to get to work. Dana grabbed her jacket and wrapped her hand around Jacks arm, "Just a heads up, someone, I won't name names, has been hounding her all day. Playin' twenty questions about Dr. Abbot, so… she might be a little salty."
With a deep breath he shook his head and draped his stethoscope around his neck.
Dana chuckled, "She doesn't know… so, it's harmless. Just watch your step with your girl. she's had a long one." She grabbed her bag and paused as she moved to step around him, "For what it's worth, the sooner you start wearing a wedding around here again the better for all of us I think." She gave him a wink.
Jack leaned down just enough they were eye to eye. "Dana… go home."
She gave him a smile and a wink, smiled a little wider when his scowl cracked, "Fifteen."
Which is exactly where he found you, right outside the room typing on one of the portable stations.
Work had always been work and honestly he loved you even more for that, because there was something sexy about the fact that you had the self control to keep home and work seperate. Most of the time. You were still his best resident, by far, and now his senior resident. It was fun for him to see you thrive with that responsibility. It was also fun for him to occasionally toe that line, get that little rise out of you that he'd pay for later.
Today, he felt like pushing that boundary. So, he took a quick glance around before he stepped up close, bumped your shoulder with his and tipped his head to whisper.
"Think carefully about what you're about to say, Dr. Abbot."
He bit back a smirk, definitly feisty tonight. "Ready to come back to nights?" He leaned a little closer than necessary and dropped his voice, "Where you belong."
You continued to type, never even looked at him, "What's it worth to you?"
"How about you finish up here, go get some rest, and I'll show you when I get home?"
That got you a little, he could tell by the way you bit the inside of your cheek and a little color appeared on your neck.
Jack bumped your shoulder with his again as he turned to leave, "Come on," His voice back to normal, "GIve me the rundown so we can get you out of here."
~~~~~
When he got home he heard his police scanner going and smirked to himself. You had given him shit about it at first, but now you used it like a white noise machine.
He moved quietly through the house until he found you asleep on the couch in the living room in your comfy clothes. Jack knew that meant you had tried to stay up as late as possible, get your sleep schedule back on track. He leaned his right knee on the couch next to you and braced his hands on either side of you, one against the back of the couch the other on the cushion. Carefully he leaned in and kissed your cheek, "Hey sweetheart." Something in him loved that you didn't flinch, didn't jump awake, only grumbled slightly and then smirked as you awoke.
"Hey." Your voice was raspy with sleep and Jack couldn't help but move to kiss the side of your neck. You hummed and shifted to your back as you cracked your eyes open, "How was your night?"
Lips never leaving your neck he gave a simple answer, "Fine." His kisses moved, higher up towards the hinge of your jaw, "Ready to have my best girl back."
You chuckled, stretched under him and let your head roll to one side to give him more access, "Oh yeah?"
"Mhmm." his kisses became more and more involved, mouthing and sucking at your neck until he left a mark.
Wide awake under his attentions your eyes focused, "Ugh, no fair."
Jack chuckled as he pushed himself up, hovering over you at arms length. "What's not fair?"
Shifting to get comfortable you pouted, unconciously letting your legs fall open for him, as you tugged at the front of his tight, dark t-shirt. "I missed a sexy Dr Abbot night."
He couldn't help the wide smile as he shook his head, still not fully comprehending what it was about wearing cargo pants and a Tshirt instead of scrubs that did it for you. Jack was, however, man enough to admit that you liking it did something for him. "Sexy Dr Abbot night huh?" He shifted his weight, hIs left hand settling on the strip of skin that appeared just above your waistband as your shirt rode up.
You rolled your eyes but smiled, tugged on the shirt again, "Mhmm."
Jack caved, still smiling as he moved to lay down over the top of you, his smile widening as your hands moved under the t-shirt and stroked over his back, "Did you miss your sexy Dr. Abbot?" He teased as he kissed you, slipped his knee between your legs and pressed it against your core as he settled into you.
A little groan escaped between chuckles as your fingers dug into the muscles of his back, on either side of his spine. "Stop it."
"You're the one that said it." Jack chuckled with you as he shifted his weight slightly, drug his right hand the length of your body. From your throat, over a breast where he paused for a moment, palming it through your shirt in time with the way his tongue slid against yours. Then your hips began to move, of their own accord, grinding against his thigh ellictiing a moan, your lips separating from his as you threw your head back.
"Mhmm," Jack murmerd into your exposed throat, "Sure seems like you missed me." He smiled against your pulse as your hands scrambled with the bottom of his shirt. He let you drag it up over his head and then before you could pull him back into a kiss he peeled your bottoms off. Taking his time to toss them aside and then slowly caress his way from the arch of your foot, over the back of your knee and higher. "God you are gorgeous." His grip on you changed, hardened as he moved back over you. "Tell me you missed me baby." He mumbled into your mouth, groaning as he felt your hands move to unbotton his pants.
"You know I did." You smiled, nipped his top lip and watched him as your fingers wrapped around his cock.
"Oh, fuck..." His forehead dropped to yours, eyes closed and breath coming out in warm pants. "Fuck." He repeated as you stroked him, hand firm and confident, from base to tip and back. The muscles in his arms bulged and flexed as he held himself over you, fists clenching and unchlenching against the couch cushion as his cock hardened to your touch. "Baby..."
"What did you say earlier? Something you were going to show me?" You giggled, closed the short distance to brush your lips over his.
Jack smiled, ducked his head to kiss you properly and moved your hand aside so he could shove his pants and boxers down. Just far enough for him to enter you without preamble. Guiding his now achingly hard cock where it belonged. "God you feel too good sweetheart." He breathed the words into your mouth as he bottomed out, lowered the rest of his weight into you. "Too good."
Your whole body trembled underneath him as you moved to wrap your arms around his neck and keep him as close as possible. You dug your fingers into his hair, into the muscles of his shoulders and back, your legs wrapped around his hips as they moved against yours. "Jack..."
"Yeah baby?" Jack asked as he dropped a hand to your thigh, thick fingers digging into your flesh as he held you closer, fucked you just a little harder. "What's wrong?"
You let out a half chuckle half groan, your nails digging into the back of his shoulder blade, "Absolutely nothing." Your chuckle turned into something like a breathy giggle as he rewarded you with a particularly deep thrust. "Just, shit," you writhed under him as he moved the hand at your thigh between your bodies. His thumb working slow, teasing circles over your clit in time with his thrusts. "Just, you don't wanna take your prostthetic off?"
He smirked against your clavicle as he mouthed his way across to the opposite side of your neck. "Don't need to be comfortable right now baby," He picked up his pace, his thrusts and his thumb over your clit, moved harder, faster, "I need to feel you cum for me." Jack wasn't taking it slow after that, and the sounds you were making for him only motivated him to fuck you harder, faster, like he hadn't had you in a month not just a week. "So be a good girl and cum for me," The hand not playing with you slid under the back of your neck, grabbing it from behind, cradling you and applying pressure in a way that had your eyes rolling back and your back arching up off the couch. Lips against your ear, his own breathing ragged, "Need to feel it baby."
"So close, i'm so close, please, shit, Jack, I'm so close." You scrambled, tried everything in your power to drag him into you.
Jack just grinned, "I know, I know." He dropped a kiss against the shell of your ear, "Trust me," His voice was strained but his tone still steady, still soft and clinging to control. "You know I'm gonna take care of you baby, you know." When you nodded enthustically his grin widened, "Take a deep breath." When you didn't respond, he slowed his thrusts down, short and shallow, and when you whined, jack repeated himself, "Breathe. Relax and breathe."
As soon as you shuddered underneath him and took a long, deep breath, eyes slipping closed as you tried to do as he said, Jack whispered, "Good girl." HIs thumb stroked up the line of your carotid once and then settled over it, applied the perfect amount of pressure that made your head swim.
"Oh fuck...." Your mouth hung open and you moaned out his name.
Slowly Jack picked up his pace again, "Another deep breath baby."
You sucked in the air through your nose and moaned because you knew what came next. Because there was a timer running in Jacks head from the moment his thumb pressed down, and once that timer started there was no more teasing or playing, only fucking you as hard and as fast as he could. The whole time murmering every dirty thought that had ever crossed his mind. How you were his good girl, his best girl, all the depraved things he wanted to do to you, how you took his cock so well, and felt so fucking good. How you moaned his name so pretty, how he wanted to fucking ruin you, fill you up and never let you go.
When that timer in his head hit zero, he'd lift his thumb, let the blood rush back to your head and drive his cock into you as hard and as fast as he could, rubbing your clit furiously until you would shatter.
Your nails would dig into his back and you'd gasp for air, and for more. Then he'd snap, his ears would ring with your highpitched whines and his back would ache and he would empty himself inside of you. His hips never stopping until his vision cleared and he could feel the scratch of your fingertips through his hair, the hammering of your heart against his own.
"Jesus Christ," You whispered it, a sexy, satisfied giggle behind it, "I still don't understand how..." You paused for a deep breath and your pussy shuddered around him, "It happens so fast when you do that." You smile as he mouths at the side of your neck.
"Which is why," He tips your face to his so he can kiss you properly before he manhandles you around, swapping places with you so he's on his back and your draped over top of him, "I only do it when I know i'm not going to fucking last." He laughs at himself, drags you down into a vulgar kiss as he reached down to shift your hips and settle you properly. His softening dick still inside you and mess between you.
Jack laid there for a moment and closed his eyes, listened to you breathing slow to match his, a wave of comfort washed over him as he wrapped his arms around you and held you close. You settled into his grasp and hummed, a happy little sound in the back of your throat as you curled around him. Both of you half naked and spent on his living room couch. He smiled, kissed the top of your head, nowhere else he'd rather be in in that moment than right there.
~~~~~~~
His fingertips stroked slowly over your back, under your shirt, when you break the post-coital silence. "Can we talk about something?"
Swallowing down the fear rapidly rising in his throat Jack nods and kisses the top of your head, "What's up?"
"My residency is almost over."
He nods, lays the hand flat and wide over the small of your back like his subconcious is trying to keep you where he felt you belonged. "Thought about what you're going to do?"
"That's sort of what I want to talk to you about." You sit up and the both of you make a face at the way your bodies shifted together. You watch as Jack settles a hand on your thigh and you reach for the other. You take his hand in both of yours and started to massage away the stiffness you knew would be there after a long shift. "There's no guarantee I get the open attending spot here, and if I don't… I just… I guess I just want to know what you think I should do."
Jack took a deep breath and studied your face intently, held your gaze. "I'm hesitant to tell you what I think because, I don't think I can be impartial, not really. I want you to make the best decision for yourself and not let me… being selfish… affect your decision."
That made you take a moment, consider as you watched him. Your thumbs still moved in soothing circles over the knuckles and palm of his hand. "I'm not asking you to be impartial. I'm asking you, someone whose opinion matters to me deeply, to discuss a very important decision I might have to make."
It hits him in the gut to hear you say that, because he knows what he wants. He knows he could tell you. He doesn't know with certainty what you want though. "Okay, well, as your attending. You are an incredibly talented and valuable emergency physician and there's plenty of hospitals that would fight to have you. I think we would be idiots to not fight to keep you here, because you are good, you're steady and fast and you're a leader, but also because we have poured a shit ton of time and resources into developing you. It would be irresponsible to let you go, but you could go anywhere you wanted and be extremely successful."
You had to fight back tears at his praise and he must have seen it because Jack stroked his hand over your thigh with a little extra pressure and a tight grin.
"As the man that loves you…because God I fucking love you and I love working with you, but either way that's going to change soon, I want you here with me. Even if that means something other than the Pitt. And… I acknowledge, as much as it sucks, that might not be what's best for you, or even be what you want."
You're chewing on your lip hard, trying to keep your own emotions in check. You love Jack, but he is also your mentor and you value his opinion and he is honestly the only one you could imagine having this conversation with. "I don't want to go anywhere else, I want to stay where I am… I'm just terrified I … What if I put in for the open spot at PTMC and don't get it?"
Jack gives you the most encouraging smile he can without giving himself away and moves to sit up. Taking you with him as he twists around to sit on the couch properly and wrap his arms around you. "Sweetheart that's fine, if you don't work for us you'll go somewhere else. There's six trauma centers in Pittsburgh, there's 52 in the state. Hell there's over 200 level ones in the country and baby you could run any of them. I know you could." He fidgets for a moment and seems to look everywhere but you before he can get locked in. He looks you in the eye, "If you want my opinion you could go anywhere, but I want you here. I just don't want to be the reason you settle for less."
Your breath caught in your throat, "Jack…"
He can't help the thought that he's going to have to talk to his therapist about the look on your face, the weight in his chest as he sits with you on his lap, dick still just a little hard inside you, the mess you made together sticky between you and every fiber of his being is fighting the urge to beg you to stay because he needs you.
"On what planet is being here with you considered less? Don't say that." You kiss him hard, then pull back, "If I apply for the slot… they're going to look sideways at both of us."
"Let 'em. Baby, that's goin' to come down on me not you."
You scoff, "We both know it doesn't work that way. If they want to raise hell about me being in a relationship with my attending that shit could follow me."
Jack hates that that's true, even if it happens in every fucking teaching hospital in the country. "To be fair, I'm tenured and I make enough for both of us. Worse comes to worse. Fuck 'em."
"Not helpful." You smack him on the chest, but chuckle despite the tension.
He shrugs, "There's ways to go about it, so maybe we haven't made it obvious, but not like we've been keeping it a state secret either, and it's not some abuse of power, hasn't affected either of our performance. I'm still going to be with you when you're an attending, or hell, when you're the chief for that matter. If i'm still around that long. Honestly… if you want to be shady about it between me and Shen, Robby is the chief, I'm willing to bet we can rig it in your favor."
"Also not helpful!" You kiss him though, "I do find it oddly attractive that you're so willing to bend the rules though."
"I know you do." He kissed you back. "Promise to play by the rules for a change."
You smile, "So, what If I told you I wanted to stay here after my residency? What if I want the attending spot at the Pitt and to stay with you?"
Jack shook his head, squeezed you tighter, "Don't ask me baby, tell me. Is that what you want?"
"I want you. If I can have you and the Pitt, perfect. If not, I'd work anywhere if it means we are together." You kiss him again, trying to get your point across, "That doesn't feel like settling to me Jack. Not even close."
How he felt in that moment was something he couldn't name, because no matter how ecstatic it makes him to hear you say you want him a piece of him is drowning in the guilt that you could be giving up something so much better.
You run your hands over his bare chest, his shoulders and then slide them up the side of his neck to hold him in place. "Is that… Is that okay?"
Like so many times before Jack shoves that doubt aside and figures, fuck it. He thinks about that first fleeting kiss on the roof, the one in his truck, all the rides home, the coffee and conversations, the morning you had asked him to come upstairs. All the times you were the one that took that leap of faith, because he couldn't. He'd been trying not to jump for years.
He kissed you, long and slow as he thinks and then whispers against your lips. "Sweetheart," He kisses you again, "Do me a favor and go grab my bag?"
You look confused, rightfully so, but smirk and duck your head to nip at the meat of one of his pecs. "You know, I'm not supposed to be able to walk after you fuck me like that."
Jack groans and feels fucking ancient, but can't help the need to swat you on the ass and give you a little push, "Love to watch you try though."
Because, yeah, you are still a little unsteady and you both trembled as you had raised up and his semi hard dick had slipped out of you. He watched you walk out of the living room and tucked himself back into his boxers before he did up the fly of his pants. The conversation you were about to have was one he couldn't have with his dick inside you, no matter how good it felt.
When you came back his eyes drank you in, shirt askew and hair a mess, a sheen between your legs that made the blood in his veins rush south again.
"Here you go." You hold out the camo backpack as you round the end of the couch.
"Need you to grab something for me, out of the liner pocket on the inside." He smirked at the way you arch your brow at him, but still come back to sit on his lap. He holds his breath as you set the bag on the couch next to you and pulled at the zipper. Jack had to try not to stare at the patch velcroed to the front. Abbot. He lets his hands settle on your thighs while he waits, thumb stroking over your femoral artery.
"What exactly am I…"
"You'll know." He cuts you off.
You stop.
He feels your heart rate skyrocket under his thumb, every muscle in your body goes rigid and he watches as your eyes blink rapidly like you're trying to clear your vision. "That's what I want sweetheart."
Your eyes are the only part of you that moves. They jump from what you found in the pocket, to his face and back. "How long have you had this?" Because what you're holding, it's not something bought on a whim.
Jack can't help but laugh at himself, "Awhile." Is all he'll tell you right now. He fights for your eye contact, but for one of the only times he can remember, it's like you can't quite hold it. Your eyes keep flicking to him and away again.
"Why?"
"Just in case."
You look at him then, really look at him, and don't look away. Give him that eye contact he craves and he sucks in air like he can breath again, head above water for just a moment. You smirk at hearing him repeat your own words back to you from so long ago. Your voice shakes, "Just in case what?"
He smirks right back at you as he moves the backpack out of the way with one hand and then holds it out, palm up. You carefully put what you had found in his hand, unopened, because the simple presence of the small, shiny, sleek, perfectly square, black box had told you everything you needed to know. Jack makes sure to brush your fingers with his as he takes the box from you and pops it open. "Just in case you ever decided to go back to dayshift, thought I might have to bribe you."
You choke out a laugh and Jack smiles, but his throat is dry and the way you look like you're about to cry really isn't helping.
He repeats himself as he pulls out the ring, rolls it carefully between his thumb and forefiner, "This is what I want sweetheart. Then he chokes out a laugh of his own, "I don't give a shit where you work baby, wherever you want. Only thing I give a fuck about is that they call you Dr. Abbot." He cracks a smile when you laugh with him and he can feel you relax, your weight sinking into him as you lean in to kiss him. Clumsy and sloppy and with a smile.
"You're fucking ego sometimes."
"You can hyphenate if you want."
"Oh, I can, can I? So generous."
Every word between you is murmured between kisses. He diesn't have to hear you say it, he knows the answer.
He doesn't have to tell you he's had the ring your entire fourth year of residency. Just waiting for you to say you wanted to stay.
You're really shaking when he slips the ring on your finger and of course it fits perfectly and of course it's exactly what you would have picked, because it's Jack. Becasuse this has never been casual for either of you, not for one single moment.
You pull back from kissing him with a laugh and an evil grin, "You suppose I'd be more or less likely to get the attending position with your last name?"
Jack laughs with you and drags your hips closer, because as soon as this conversation is finished he's taking you to bed and doing terrible, filthy things to you the rest of the weekend. "Look me in the eye and tell me this is really what you want baby."
He can feel the metal of the ring on your finger as your hand presses against his jaw, "This is what I want Jack. This is exactly what I want."
Your noses bump together as he kisses you and nods, "Have something else I need to tell you then." He kissed you again, before you can panic. "You don't need to apply for the attending position."
You put some distance between you and for the first time in a long time Jack has to gently stop you, guide you away from putting too much pressure on his right knee at this angle. You murmur a little, "Sorry." as you scoot closer. "What's that supposed to mean?"
Arms locked tight around you Jack keeps a straight face, tells you something he's wanted to tell you since you started this conversation. "It's not going to come down to whether you get the job or not. Robby already tagged you for it."
You blink, "What?"
Jack rubbed his hands over your thighs, putting in the pressure and the warmth to keep you grounded, "It's going to come down to whether you want the job or not, because they're going to offer it to you once you complete your residency."
"You're fucking with me right now."
He chuckles, "I am not fucking with you right now. It's like I told you; we'd be stupid to let you go anywhere else."
"What did you do?"
"I didn't do anything!" He's almost laughing outright now, "They asked us for our recommendations, every single one of us said you. Obviously I'm not supposed to tell you, but…"
"So you were just letting me stress out about all of this!? About the fact that I might lose you, because I wasn't going to get the job, that I was going to have to leave and, and move to the opposite side of the country or something!"
"I was trying to stay out if it. In case being here isn't what you wanted." He left the 'if I wasn't what you wanted' out of it.
"Jack!, I mean Jesus, c'mon! We've been together for almost two fucking years. How would you even begin to think this isn't what I wanted!?" You're yelling at him, but you're laughing and crying and have a death grip on the back of his neck.
Jack takes a deep breath and deescalates. "My therapist says I plan for the worst case scenario as a coping mechanism, as a way to try and protect myself from the pain of unforseen loss."
Taking his lead you take a deep breath, lower your tone. "Yeah, he also says it's one thing to be prepared for emergencies and another to try and plan for the worst possible outcome to a conversation, that you haven't even initated, therefore running the risk of 'planning' that worst case outcome into existence." You scowl at him.
Sometimes he hates that you're so in tune, so invested and involved in his mental health, because it's annoying to hear his therapist come out of your mouth. He smirks though, because he also loves it a little and can't imagine anyone else holding him accountable the way you do.
"Since you brought your therapist into it, have you told him you've been carrying around my engagement ring in your backpack next to a three day supply of MREs?"
He doesn't answer you because you know he hasn't, you're just making a point. Jack smirks and smooths his hands up your back, "Sure you wanna marry me?" His chest hurts at the way you light up as he watches your eyes flick back to the ring he slipped on your finger.
"Very sure." You looked him in the eye like you were daring him to doubt you and gave him that little smirk. The one that had started this all, where it tipped up to one side like you were trying not to show him something.
Jack waited for you to lean in and kiss him, waited for your fingers to comb into his curls and your tongue to chase after his, and then he grabbed you tight and pushed to his feet. Chuckling at the way you still squeaked and giggled, no matter how many times he's carried you to bed that way. Or to the couch, the shower, the nearest wall or flat surface.
Later, when you're both exhausted and the blackout curtains are keeping the afternoon sun at bay, you're laying beside him with your head on his shoulder, one leg draped over his and your left hand on his chest. Neither of you can stop staring at the faint glint that is the ring in the dim light of the room.
"Are you sure?"
Jack chuckles, presses a kiss to the top of your head and murmers, "How many times you going to ask me that?"
You bite your lip and turn your face into his neck, "Just making sure."
He closes his eyes when he feels you trace his collar bone with your lips and he moves to cradle the back of her head, holding you close. Jack thinks again about those first two kisses, about the way you had explained yourself. 'Just in case.' He tips your head back so he can kiss you, deep and with emotion he still can't quite process out loud. "I'm sure sweetheart." He kissed you again.
There was something extremely appropriate about the phrase, 'just in case.' he thought and for the rest of his life, every time he kissed you, touched you, told you he loved you, in the back of his mind he'd think. 'Just in case.' Because he knew better than anyone, there was no way to know what time would be the last.
"Hey," Your voice was soft, half asleep when your hand rested against his jaw to pull him out of his thoughts, "I love you." You said it like you knew where his thoughts had gone.
Jack kissed you, holding you close like he'd never let you go. "Love you too."
Synopsis: After taking a bad fall, Y/N gets rushed to the ED of Pittsburg Trauma Medical Hospital only to come face to face with a man she had a one-night stand with, and who ghosted her that same morning without a word - Dr. Michael "Robby" Robinavitch. As if her bad day couldn't get any worse than it was...
Pairing: Dr. Michael "Robby" Robinavitch x fem!Reader (age-gap relationship (Reader is 26, Robby is implied 46-48))
Genre: angst, fluff, SMUT
Warnings: descriptions of wounds (open breaks), puke, swearing, etc., SMUT
Word count: 13,320 (yeah, this sort of started out like a cute little chaotic story and became... this. I might make more parts to these two, people like it enough, because I already have some ideas, and ideas for other stories too also, let's please pretend like Robby didn't have the worst shift of his life and everyone is happy and alive :) )
Please don't copy my work or repost it onto other platforms. all of the characters belong to HBO Max.
In all honesty, Y/N thought Sara was overreacting. There was no need to be hauled to the ER on a Monday morning, at seven AM. So, what if she’d slipped in the shower? So, what if she’d hit her head against the towel rack? So, what if she’d sprained her ankle? Y/N could just pop a couple of Tylenol and be on her merry way, but no.
When Sara had heard the thud and the subsequent crash of shampoo and conditioner bottles, she’d rushed inside the bathroom only to find Y/N sprawled out in all her naked glory. She cursed the stupid bathroom latch their landlord refused to change.
After Sara had had her fill of laughter, she helped Y/N stand, get somewhat dressed (a loose cotton shirt and some shorts), and helped her hobble down the stairs of their apartment, her leg in a make-shift splint of dishtowels and left-over wood paneling from an IKEA dresser.
A groan of protest escaped her as Sara parked in the hospital parking lot and rushed to the passenger door, opening it for Y/N and helping her get out.
“You are worse than my mother,” she huffed as she leaned her weight onto her good leg. “I am completely fine.”
Sara sighed, and Y/N rolled her eyes, knowing what was coming. “My love,” she said. “My other half. The Yin to my Yang, the milk to my matcha. My partner in crime for whom I would kill and/or dispose of a body. I can quite literally see the fucking bone sticking out of your lower leg.”
“It’s a sprain,” Y/N gritted through clenched teeth.
“It’s an open fucking break and the fact that you refused to have an ambulance called, boggles my fucking mind, yet here we are.”
To that, Y/N had nothing to say, but still, she thought Sara was being way too overdramatic. And honestly, if she kept mentioning the real situation of her sprain, making her remember the sound of the snap, how it had been the worst sound she’d ever heard, and Y/N had spent more than twenty years listening to her brother singing in the shower, before she moved to Pittsburg for her job, she would put Sara in a hospital bed herself. And then they could be the ED besties.
But the worst was the pain that came when Sara reminded Y/N of why she had to go to the hospital.
It had been a miracle no neighbor had called the cops or the EMTs themselves, though it didn’t necessarily comfort Y/N either. If she could scream bloody murder like that and nobody batted an eye, it didn’t say anything good about the complex they lived in.
One look down had confirmed Y/N’s worst fears – she had, in fact, broken her leg. Not only that, it was an open break where part of her lower femur was sticking right out of the meat of her calf. For the first few moments, she’d been in such a shock, that the only thought running through her head was – I look like a poor man’s version of a Disney turkey leg. Then she’d started screaming. And that had made her puke.
Right then and there, still lying half out of the shower, half on the floor, she’d emptied her stomach. There hadn’t been much in it, just the cup of water she’d drank when she’d awoken, but still. At least Y/N had been in the bathroom when it had happened. Tiles were easier to clean up than carpet, and she already felt bad enough Sara would have to wash the floor.
But now, as some form of punishment, no doubt, Sara was helping Y/N hobble towards the emergency department of Pittsburg Trauma Medical Hospital, when a sad-looking man noticed them and rushed inside, grabbing a wheelchair, and getting by Y/N’s side in a matter of a second.
“Here, sit down.” The man, Dennis Whitaker he introduced himself, took hold of her other bicep and moved the wheelchair behind her.
“I’m fine,” she groaned. “I’m not an invalid. I can make it inside on my own. Besides, that wheelchair could be used for someone that actually needs it.”
“You actually need it.” Sara levelled a gaze at her. “And I will make you a fucking invalid because I will clock you so hard in the head, you will have a concussion, if you don’t have one from the fall.”
For a tense second, Y/N stood (or wobbled) her ground, Y/E/C eyes locked onto Sara’s hazel ones which were slowly narrowing with each passing moment until she cursed and said, “Alright fine.” Together Whitaker and Sara lowered the injured woman into the wheelchair. “God, I hate your mom-stares.”
“It’s the only way to get you to do anything in terms of taking care of yourself.”
“It’s not!” Y/N protested. “I’ll have you know, I made myself an omelet yesterday for breakfast. Veggies and all.”
“Yeah, after I berated you that a stale Coke from three days ago, isn’t actual breakfast.” Sara walked side by side as Whitaker pushed the wheelchair into the madhouse that was the emergency department.
It was fascinating to observe the situation as an outsider – nurses and doctors were like level-headed owls, their heads swiveling this way and that way, as they assessed the patients and their statuses, while the residents and patients themselves, not all, but quite a bunch, were like headless chickens, rushing around and trying to prioritize afflictions or become a priority to the doctors.
Codes were called left and right, people moved from one side to the other, snapping on gloves and donning protective gear, and in the center of it all, was the command post – the nurse’s station which Whitaker had wheeled her to.
“Dana, is there a room available?” he addressed a slim, blonde woman, probably the one in charge.
“Room six is available, what’s the, oh,” she stopped mid-sentence as she noticed Y/N and the bone sticking out of her leg.
“I don’t mind waiting,” she gave her a sheepish smile. “There’s probably loads of people before me. Besides, it’s just a sprain.”
“Well, that’s probably one of the worst sprains I’ve ever seen,” Dana deadpanned as she motioned with her head towards someone behind them.
Y/N shrugged. “Well, I am just special like that.”
“Yeah, maybe in the head,” Sara grumbled as she gave the charge nurse all the necessary info for the moment. “Speaking of which – she also hit her head when she went down with her… sprain.”
Dana’s lips quirked up as she hummed and tapped something on her iPad, weaving around the table, leaving Whitaker to follow her like a lost puppy as they moved to the room Y/N was now assigned to. “We’ll schedule you a CT ASAP.”
Y/N turned her head to look at her best friend. “Given how this little trip was your idea, you’re paying off my medical debt.”
“Just let these nice doctors and nurses take care of you.” Sara pinched the bridge of her nose. “Because quite honestly, I’m not too into the idea of searching for a new roommate. Do you know how many creeps I’d have to go through? And what if the one normal one I find has a fatal flaw?”
“Such as?”
“I dunno. What if they hate musicals?”
“Oh, the tragedy.” Y/N pressed a hand against her chest as they wheeled her inside the room.
There was another presence there, a young doctor, probably late twenties or early thirties. A cute little dimple on his chin, dark hair, and blue eyes. Reminded her a bit of the guy from Air Bud, if she squinted a bit.
“My name’s Dr. Langdon,” he introduced himself, giving Y/N a reassuring smile. “And this is Dennis Whitaker, our fourth-year medical student. Would it be alright, if he and another one of our residents observed the situation today? This is a teaching hospital, but it is well within your rights to refuse.”
She shook her head. “Observe away. Not much I can hide.”
“Alright, thank you.” He ventured out for a quick second only to come back with a young woman who introduced herself as Dr. Mel King, a second-year resident. “Okay,” Dr. Langdon said. “Let’s get you onto the bed and see what we’re working with.”
The three medical professionals surrounded her and helped Y/N move from the wheelchair on the paper-covered bed, without jostling her leg too much, but it was enough.
So far, she’d been able to take her mind off the pain by distracting herself – she bickered with Sara, recited the script of The Hunger Games movie in her head while fantasising about a blond Josh Hutcherson, because Peeta was just elite like that. She’d even gone so far as to go over the division table, but now, as more attention was being placed on the broken leg, it started to hurt more and more. It was like Y/N mind-over-mattered an itching spot left by a mosquito by chanting “It’s not itchy” over and over in her head, but the second she stopped, the itching came back in full force.
“So,” Dr. Dimple, she nicknamed him in her head, started. “What happened?”
Y/N sighed, looking at the ceiling. “Can I just give you the not-humiliating version and say I’m a klutz?”
He gave her a charming smile as a nurse prepped an IV line. “Unfortunately, we need to know beyond “clumsy”. The environment where this accident happened is important.”
"It could introduce pathogens into the wound," Mel, as Dr. King had requested to be called, said.
Y/N chewed on her bottom lip before muttering, “I slipped in the shower and sprained my leg. And then got assaulted by some shampoo and conditioner bottles… and then I threw up.”
“And don’t forget the head!” Sara said from the door where she still stood, observing the work happening.
Y/N threw her a knowing smirk. “Never do. And I haven’t had any complaints yet.”
“The throwing up could indicate a concussion,” Whitaker said. “Dana’s already scheduled a CT. And in terms of the leg, you actually have an open fra-,”
Y/N took hold of Whitaker’s bicep like he’d done so for her when he’d helped wheel her inside the emergency department. “Please listen to me when I say this – unless you want me to hurl all over you, and trust me, I can aim, the only thing I have, is a sprain. Got it?”
He gulped and nodded, stepping away from Y/N like a man who’d gotten sprayed by too many fluids in one day and didn’t want to be anywhere near the danger zone. “Loud and clear Miss Sprained-Ankle-Woman.”
“Good.” The nausea that’d started creeping up her belly subsided. “Because I can deal with you people having to do things, but if I have to actually listen to any of it, or think about it, I will be sick.”
“We can give you some anti-nausea medication for that,” Dr. Dimple soothed. “But first, we’ll get you a CT, and then we’ll have a surgery room prepped for you because you need to get this reset as quickly as possible. You will probably have some metal plates and screws to hold the uh… sprain together, and then a cast for about six to eight weeks.”
“Great,” Y/N grumbled. “This is just fucking great. This is exactly how I wanted to spend my vacation, before, oh… oh, absolutely not.” Y/N’s eyes widened to a comically large size as she looked past her room and into the waiting area. “Sara, you need to get me out of here right the fuck now.”
“Hey, woah, what is going on?” Dr. Langdon rushed to where Y/N was trying to get the IV line out. “Please don't do that, you'll only hurt yourself more.”
“Y/N, what’s going on?” Sara’s brows were pulled tight in a frown, as she tried to help Dr. King get the oxygen monitor back onto her finger. “You need surgery, for fuck’s sake.”
“It’s him,” she hissed, not taking her gaze away from where it’d locked on. “And I don’t want to spend a second anywhere near the dick.”
“Who?” Sara swiveled her head to look beyond the glass separating them from the chaos beyond. “Who’s the dick?”
“Him.”
And then four pairs of eyes locked onto the man standing and talking with the charge nurse at The Hub, Y/N was glaring at.
“Do – do you two know each other?” Dr. Dimple asked. “Do you feel unsafe with him around?”
“Yeah, you could say we know one another,” she scowled and crossed her arms as Mel managed to finally reattach the oxygen monitor, all of their attention onto her. “That’s the dude I hooked up with two weeks ago, and completely ghosted me that same morning.”
Every single head snapped to look back at Dr. Michael “Robby” Robinavitch, who’d also finally noticed Y/N was at his workplace, as a patient no less. His eyebrows were right up to his hairline, brown eyes wide with disbelief and mouth agape as she glowered at the older man.
It was quite a surreal moment – all of these capable doctors and residents and nurses, stunned by the information so bad, that they almost seemed to forget Y/N was there. She wondered what was going through their heads, as this seemed like it wasn’t a regular occurrence. Which stung even more – if Michael had been a fuckboy, she could take it, but it didn’t seem so. So, what was wrong with Y/N that had made him run away after the night they’d spent together?
When they’d met at the bar, he had told her he was an emergency department attending. The big boss of his little duckling residents, dutifully running the hospital department with the help of the nurses.
Why, when Sara had finally managed to get Y/N inside the car, it hadn’t occurred to her, he would work in this particular hospital. Just why?
Y/N couldn’t say. Maybe she’d hoped he worked the night shifts. Maybe she’d hoped, he worked somewhere else, or even out of town, but, of course, for whatever sins she’d committed, karma couldn’t do her a solid one.
Sara gasped, rushing by her side as Y/N watched Michael flounder and try and decide what to do – whether to interfere and face the music or run away from the hospital. He apparently chose the latter as he twisted on his heel and high-tailed it to the other end of the department, leaving a cackling Dana behind.
“That’s him?” Sara strained her neck. “That’s the hot doctor?”
Y/N scoffed. “The one and only. Couldn’t even leave a fucking note or something. Like I can take a hint a one-night-stand is a one-night-stand, alright? But don’t just fucking bolt out of the door like your ass is on fire before the other party wakes up. Fucking dickhead.”
“Well, maybe it wasn’t as fun of a night for him, as you thought, and he didn’t want to hurt your feelings.” Sara raised a brow.
“Oh, trust me,” Y/N smirked. “It was a very fun night for him. I would know. I was there, and you can’t fake the kind of shaking. Four hours will do that to a guy,” she winked and touched the tips of her pointer finger and thumb in an A-Okay sign.
“Yeah,” it was Dr. Dimple smiling at her, the grin on his face almost wolfish in nature. “Yeah, you are absolutely my new favorite person in the world.”
However, whatever he wanted to say or ask, was cut short when Dana returned to inform that her CT slot was coming up, and so Y/N was wheeled away, not daring to look at Michael as they passed one another in the hallway.
As the results came back for a minor concussion, the anesthesiologist informed, that they recommended a spinal for the surgery, while the team prepper, but Y/N shot it down immediately.
“Absolutely not. Look, I know it’s not safe to go to sleep after a concussion, but I will not be listening to the sounds of some bone-carpenter crunching on my leg. Put me under,” she gave him her most pathetic look. “Please.”
The specialist still tried to argue, but he couldn’t do it much longer, as Y/N needed surgery as soon as possible, so after five minutes of strongly recommending the spinal, he relented and in half an hour, Y/N had managed to get hers – she was out like a light, without a sound in her ears.
It was the best sleep she’d ever had in her life. Like floating on a cloud, surrounded by doves and angels singing her lullabies. She never wanted to wake up, but something was rousing her out of the blissful state.
A large warm hand around her palm, thumb rubbing the top of it, was soothing her senses. It was like hot chocolate after being out in the sow. Or sitting by a fireplace with a blanket wrapped around your shoulders.
“Good afternoon, Miss Sprained-Ankle,” a low, rumbly voice greeted Y/N as she floated back into consciousness. Her eyes locked onto two gentle, brown ones, and despite the medication, she knew she wasn’t hallucinating him.
Michael’s face was beard-covered like it had been when they’d met. He still had the same worry lines on his forehead and the crow’s feet around his eyes. Y/N had said she liked those the best.
“It shows you’ve smiled and laughed despite everything else,” she’d informed him over the rim of her Pornstar Martini.
She couldn’t truly imagine just how draining his line of work was, both physically and mentally, but the laugh lines she could see hiding under the beard, harmonizing with those around his eyes, was a feature Y/N had noticed first.
“So,” she slurred her tongue a swollen mass of sandpaper in her mouth, and Michael noticed that, holding a cup of water against her lips until she’d had her fill. “Do I have to keep breaking bones to wake up with you next to me?”
“I hope not.” With gentleness Y/N knew he possessed, yet didn’t expect, he brushed away a droplet that’d slipped past her mouth, and onto her cheek. “I hope this is the only time I ever have to see you in such a state.”
“Can’t promise that,” she shook her head. “I do have a reputation to uphold.”
“Yeah?” amusement was evident on his weary face. “And what kind of reputation is that?”
“When I was in first grade, on the first day of school, I broke my arm. And then like a few months later, I smashed my face against a radiator and split my lip open. Still have a scar,” she pointed right below her right nostril where a sliver of lighter skin was. “And then, but that was like third grade or something, I smashed my head against a metal railing and split my head open. I could even push my fingers inside and scrape my -,”
“Okay, I understand,” Michael interrupted her and pulled the hand that was tapping against the hairline on her forehead. “You are an ED connoisseur, but please, don’t make this a habit.”
“Damn, straight I am.” Y/N gave a confident nod, but before Michael could ask anything else, she said, “You know what I don’t get? Like why did my leg bone hurt while sticking out of my body, but my teeth that are sticking out right now, don’t?” She clacked them for emphasis. “They’re outside bones.”
A soft smile bloomed on Michael’s face as he brushed a strand of hair away from her forehead. She could feel someone had put her hair in a protective style and had to wonder if it had been the man beside her. But that wouldn’t make any sense. Why would he care like that for her?
“For one,” he muttered. “You broke your fibula – the smaller bone in your lower leg, and in doing so, hurt the surrounding things like muscles and skin. That is one reason why you felt such pain. And two – if you broke a tooth, it would hurt too. Your cavities hurt, don’t they?”
“Mmm,” a self-satisfied smile bloomed on Y/N’s face. “I wouldn’t know. I’ve never had a cavity.”
“That’s good. Dentists aren’t cheap.” As a response she just clacked her teeth again, making Michael laugh. “How are you feeling? Any pain? Nausea?”
“Nope, I am A-Okay. Honestly, that was like the best sleep of my life. Well…” Y/N pouted, taking her gaze away from Michael’s. “That night when I fell asleep with you is also up in the Top 5, but then I woke up and… you know… you weren’t there.”
She was obviously delirious from the medication being pumped through her veins, but much like when Y/N was drunk, she was a throw-up-remember-everything kind of a girl, instead of a black-out-drunk. Besides, it wasn’t like she could run anywhere. Quite literally.
Michael sighed, dragging a hand down his face, visibly cringing at her words. “About that… I – yeah, I think the only thing I can say is I’m sorry. For, you know, ghosting, as you youngsters say.”
“ ‘S alright.” Y/N shrugged, trying to act nonchalant, as if the second she’d seen him, she hadn’t been ready to bolt. “I’m over it.”
“No, no it’s not okay. I shouldn’t have done that. Because that night was… great. It was amazing, actually. And everything leading up to the uh, you… you know, the...” he cleared his throat, and a smirk pulled up on Y/N’s lips.
“The sex? Come on, you can say it in your big old man age. It’s just three letters.”
“Jesus Christ.” Michael rubbed his neck as a slight pink shade crawled up his neck, which made Y/N let out a chuckle at how uncomfortable he looked talking about this. Maybe it was time to let this go, for his sake and her own sanity.
“Look, if it makes you feel any better,” Y/N shifted to the edge of the mattress and patted the side of her bed, so he could sit down. After asking if she was sure, he did take the offered space. “I – I’ve been treating you a bit unfairly with this. I think my ego was a bit crushed after waking up and not having you there, but, umm… you’re off the hook. Besides, I think I’m in your debt with all of this. Your team is amazing.”
“They’re pretty great, aren’t they?” he mumbled, one of his hands having moved to toy with the wristband the hospital had assigned to Y/N. “But still, how I reacted then, and even earlier in the morning… it wasn’t right. I mean, I’m pushing fifty for fuck’s sake. That’s not what someone my age does.”
“So what?” she raised a brow. “The issue is you think you’re a cradle-robber? Because you’re no more that than I am a grave robber. I’m twenty-six, Michael,” she turned her palm up hoping he’d accept it and slide his hand in hers. After a moment of hesitancy, he did, and Y/N squeezed it in reassurance. “I mean, if you think you’re doing something bad, by having slept with someone two decades younger than you, I’ll have you know, according to regency times, as a woman who’ll be turning twenty-seven this year, I’m pretty much a decrepit old spinster.”
Michael let out a soft laugh as his fingers trailed the lines on Y/N’s palm. “You have your whole life ahead of you. Me? I’m your probably dad’s age.”
“And looking hotter than ever, if you ask me.”
“Yeah? You think so?” He asked as Y/N hummed in affirmation. “Well then, for a decrepit old spinster, you are beautiful. And acting with much more grace than I deserved or deserve.”
Something in the way he said those last few words made her heart squeeze. “Michael… of course you deserve grace.”
“You’re being far too good to me… you’re far too good for me…”
Y/N’s brows furrowed at that. Slowly, she attempted to rise in a sitting position, but she didn’t get far before Michael had his arms around her waist, like they’d been two weeks ago, pushing a pillow to stabilize the small of her back. Once he was sure she was comfortable, he opened an apple juice box and handed it to her.
“To get your sugar up.”
But she just stared at him, only reaching for the little carton after he’d resumed his previous sitting position. “Is that what this is about?” she asked. “Some insecurity you think I deserve better than you? Because I can decide those things for myself. I am an adult. With a fully-developed frontal lobe, mind you.”
He took in a deep breath, held it for a second, then released it, and Y/N watched that whatever kind of decision he’d come to, had released a certain tension that’d been accumulating in his body. “Kind of, I guess. But mostly…” he swallowed, then nodded to himself, eyes trained on her wristband. “Mostly I got scared.”
“Of what?” Y/N tilted her head. “I mean, I know my morning breath probably isn’t that attractive, and the smeared makeup made me look like a coked-out raccoon, but -,”
“No,” Michael shook his head, chuckling. His cheeks were reddish at her words, but as he lifted his eyes to hers, there was a grateful look to them. Like he was thankful she wasn’t making fun of him even in his ripe old age. “You,” he stumbled over his words a bit, “when I saw you there, sleeping by my side like you belonged… I don’t think I’ve ever seen anything more beautiful than that. And that’s when I thought to myself – if I worked up the courage, could there be more mornings like that? Could I make you breakfast and coffee one day? Maybe I’d get the privilege of falling asleep next to you as we watch movies at night. And that scared me.”
“The possible future?”
“Wanting that possible future, because that feeling, the one that started to grow right here,” he tapped the center of his chest. “I couldn’t think straight. So, I had to go.”
“I mean,” Y/N swallowed hard. “That is a lot to imagine after only a few hours together.”
“Does that… creep you out? ‘Cause it’s totally understandable if it does. I mean Jesus, I’m old… and you’re so young.”
“No, it doesn’t.” And she meant it when she said it. “I find it actually quite endearing, but you can stop being so hung-up on the age difference. If you think there might be some daddy issues on my side, I can assure you – there’s none. I quite like my dad, and I definitely don’t see you as such a figure. Not after the things you did to me. ‘Cause, quite honestly, sex with you was probably the best dicking-down I’ve had in a year.”
If Michael had been drinking anything, Y/N was sure he would have choked with how he sputtered at her words. “Well, uh, yeah, I uh… I’m glad you… enjoyed it.”
“I did. And I know you enjoyed it too,” her smile was nothing short of wicked.
“Yeah, and apparently now the rest of the residents and nurses and doctors know it too?” Michael raised his brows at her.
It took Y/N a while to realize he was talking about when she’d gotten admitted and spilt the beans on their night together, implying their copious amount of copulation. “Hey, don’t shoot the messenger, but I’d like to think your reputation has now gone sky-high between the female nurses and doctors. Maybe the guys and theys as well. But I do apologize for talking about your private life while at your work. In my defense, until that very moment, I didn’t know you worked here. And well, I was pissed.”
“You and your mouth will get you in trouble one day,” Michael pointed at her.
“Yeah? Would you like to put something in it, to shut me up? Last time, you really liked it when I -,”
“Okay, trouble, that’s enough.” Even though his words had a finality to them, humor glowed on his features. He seemed relaxed. Content even, as he took the now empty apple juice box Y/N had been sipping on this whole time.
“You on a break?” She started scooting down the bed once more, and Michael instantly helped her get situated.
“Want to get rid of me so quickly?”
“No. It’s just you’re spending an awfully long time with me. Don’t you have other patients to check in on? I don’t want you to waste your time if you need to get to someone else. Or maybe grab a bite to eat? I’m fairly sure doctors don’t know how to have a good work-life balance, despite continuously recommending it to us, mere mortals.”
“Time with you isn’t a waste.”
Oh.
Oh, how badly did Y/N want to rip off the little wires connecting her to the heart monitor, because had Michael not turned the sound off, she was sure the whole hospital would be hearing it go nuts at his words, the squiggling beat of it a treat for only Michael this time, because when he noticed it, a smirk bloomed on his mouth. He didn’t say anything, but he didn’t need to, not when he murmured, twining their fingers together, “I want to kiss you so bad.”
“I definitely won’t be opposed to that.” Y/N’s answer might have come way too quickly, but she was beyond feeling embarrassed about wanting him. “You have permission to kiss away. For as long as possible. All day, every day, whenever you want to.”
“Well, thank you for that,” Michael chuckled, cupping her cheek, and she leaned into the touch. “But… not right now. Let me take you out on a proper date. Let me do this right.”
“Oh my God, seriously?” Y/N whined throwing her head back. “You’re gonna make me wait? Especially after that whole speech and whatnot? You are a cruel, cruel man Dr. Michael Robinavitch.”
Slowly, without breaking eye contact, he leaned to hover over Y/N, a golden necklace slipping from the inside of his shirt and dangling before her. She wanted to pull it between her teeth like she’d done so during their one night together. It took every dwindling ounce of willpower not to.
“Maybe, I just want you aching. And yearning. You were the one who said men don’t yearn enough nowadays. But I have. For you, for two whole god-damned weeks. Now it’s your turn.”
It was pathetic how Y/N wanted to cry and whimper. “But I didn’t even do anything! You were the one that ran out! Why am I being punished for your actions?”
“Do you – do you not want to go on a date with me?”
“I do, but I’d rather you rail me as soon as possible.”
“Well, for one,” Michael tried to continue on as if Y/N’s words hadn’t made heat creep up his face, but he could only do so much. He was a human, after all. “You’re not allowed any strenuous activities until you’ve got a clean bill of health. And two, all teasing aside, I want to do this properly. I want to do right by you this time.”
“Why would you?” she exasperated. “I wasn’t complaining when you didn’t do it right by me, and I’m certainly not going to if you suddenly decide to stop being chivalrous. Maybe even right here. We could recreate some scene from Grey’s Anatomy?” Y/N wiggled her brows at him, eliciting a deep rumble of a chuckle.
“Grey’s is just a malpractice lawsuit after a malpractice lawsuit, and I, unlike the characters there, don’t want my medical license to be revoked. Until you get discharged, I’m one of your doctors.”
“My hot doctor, you mean.”
The sigh that left Michael was not weary or a worn-out kind of noise. Rather it was a resigned I-guess-this-is-my-life-now kind of a sigh, especially combined with the endearing look on his face, it made Y/N feel warm all over.
Slowly, as they talked a bit more, her eyes began to droop, exhaustion from the morning, from the surgery and the subsequent consequences settling in once more. “Will you stay?” she asked as Michael brushed a knuckle along her jaw. “Just until I fall asleep?”
“Of course,” Michael took her hand in his, sitting down by her side again, as he pressed a kiss to her wrist. “And I… I wish I could promise I’ll be here when you wake up, but I, -”
“I know,” Y/N interrupted him with a soft and understating smile. “By that point, you’ll probably be off saving lives. It’s why I’m not asking you to.”
“I’ll try though.” He promised.
“Okay.”
And with her hand still in Michael’s, Y/N drifted off once again without even realizing it was pitch-black outside, and Michael hadn’t been wearing his shift scrubs. He should have long been home resting, and yet, he hadn’t been able to leave her. Not like he did before.
By the time she awoke early the next morning, Y/N was clearheaded, and yet all her thoughts mulled over the conversation she’d had with Michael the previous night. Would he go back on his word? Had he only talked with her like that because she was high on pain meds, and maybe thought she wouldn’t remember their discussions?
She knew he hadn’t promised to be there when she awoke, so Y/N didn’t hold it against him, but she couldn’t deny the sting. But that was immediately soothed by the hoodie that’d been laid over the back of a chair.
His hoodie.
A promise he would at least have a reason to come back and check in on her. It was Dana, the charge nurse, peeking her head inside that pulled Y/N back into the present. “How are we feeling today? Ready to be discharged? Dr. Langdon will be with you shortly for a follow-up.”
The woman in the hospital bed groaned. “Can’t I just stay here? Like you people – you are normal. Sara will be a mother hen on crack. I am willing to brave hospital food, as long as I don’t have to go home to all that fussing. She’s probably already bullied our landlord into installing a lift or something.”
“She cares for you,” it was Dr. Langdon piping in, as he entered her room, pulling on a pair of gloves and nodding to Dana in thanks. “You’re pretty lucky to have a friend like her.”
“Yeah, I know,” Y/N sighed as Dr. Langdon looked over her leg, asked some questions about pain levels and talked her through the post-op care. “But in my defense, she has a tendency to overreact.”
“I’d say you have a tendency to underreact, but that’s just my professional opinion.”
She rolled her eyes as Dr. Langdon finished his assessment and handed off her chart to Dana, so they could start the discharge process. “God forbid a girl has hobbies.”
“In any case, I do think the whole ED is in debt to Sara.”
To that she raised a brow.
“Well, had she not made you come in, I don’t know if Dr. Robby would have had a chance of seeing you again. Because, if I have to be honest, we’ve all been scratching our heads the past couple of weeks trying to figure out why he’s been in such a mood. Now we know why.”
“You two shit-talking me?” Michael’s soft tone interrupted the conversation, as he crossed his arms and leaned against the entryway. “How are you feeling?”
She tried and failed to hide the heat creeping up her veins. Even if Y/N had succeeded, that damned monitor, the sound no doubt having been turned back on by Michael before he left, to make sure if anything went awry at night, someone was there for her, betrayed her anyway. God, she wanted to punch the smile off both the men's faces.
“Fine.” She turned her head to look at the wall, as a nurse stepped in and removed the IV catheter and wrapped her hand in gauze. “Not looking forward to the itching that will appear, in what? Three days?”
“No scratching,” Dr. Dimple pointed at her with a pen. “You could injure yourself and cause a serious infection. No rulers, no knitting needles, no crochet needles, no twigs or branches, no nothing.”
“But what about -,”
“No nothing,” he emphasized. “Or I will have to recommend Dr. Robby make a house call on you. Though that isn’t much of a threat for you two, is it?”
“Okay, Frank? Scram. Now. There’re patients that need checking on. I can take care of Y/N.”
“Yeah, I bet you can,” Dr. Langdon let out a laugh but was out of the room before either she or Michael could say anything.
The only thing Y/N was happy about, was that the comment had made not only her flustered, but Michael as well, as he shifted on his feet and rubbed the back of his neck in a nervous tick. In the end, he gave her a smile that said “Sorry about him” and padded over to where he’d left his hoodie.
And that only made her even more flustered, because seeing a man like him, so level-headed and sure, get visibly nervous over her, did things to Y/N. Which made her want to do things to Michael, but then Dana returned, two crutches in hand, Whitaker wheeling a wheelchair once more, and all passion slipped away.
“Right, thanks.” She eyed the crutches like they were cow-eating pythons. “I fucking hate my life.”
Low, warm laughter filtered through the room as Dana helped Y/N get redressed and situated her in the wheelchair, crutches placed over her knees as she was rolled to the nurse’s station.
“I uh, took the liberty of calling Sara for you,” Michael said as he leaned against the table. When Y/N raised a brow in question, he elaborated, “She’s in your emergency contacts. Should be here in fifteen or so.”
“Thank you. You didn’t have to do that, you know.”
“I know,” he smiled. “But I wanted to.”
And there it was again, that warmth that blossomed in her chest, only this time she let it spread, let it wrap around her heart and wash away that bitterness, that’d been there since the morning Y/N had woken up cold and alone.
It hadn’t been just the sex, though that night Michael had given her some of the most earth-shattering orgasms she’d ever had (thankfully, Sara had been away with her girlfriend, so she didn’t have to suffer through the teasing).
It was the conversations leading up to it, the sense of ease Y/N felt around Michael. He was witty and sarcastic, his humor dry, but not at the expense of others while being engaging and thought-provoking at the same time. What had sealed the deal for her though was when he actually engaged in the debate, she presented him – if he had to kiss a fish-spider hybrid, what would he choose – fish head, spider body or fish body, spider head?
He’d made her laugh so hard she cried, and when Y/N had deemed it was time to call an Uber and go home, she’d taken the risk and asked if he wanted to come to her place. And after a few moments where she wanted the earth to open and swallow her whole, he’d nodded.
Together they waited for the cab, standing side by side, yet not touching. He’d opened the car door for her, before slipping in himself.
The tension could be cut with a knife, and afterwards, Y/N had given the driver five stars for enduring it, while the whole way, one of Michael’s palms had slowly moved to rest against her thigh, and she’d had to clench them together because if she didn’t, there would be a noticeable wet spot underneath.
After an agonizing half an hour's drive, they finally got to her place. Michael held the door open for her, and insisted on paying for the Uber, no matter how much Y/N protested.
Every step towards the apartment she was renting on the fourth floor of the complex, was agony. As she fumbled for her keys, Michael’s fingers were slowly skimming the side of her dress where the zipper rested.
Y/N’s whole body was a live-wire, and she wondered how in the world had the lock not melted from the heat, as it slid in place and she unlocked the door, the motion now forever having a sexual connotation, for in that moment Michael was the key that would unlock her desires.
Together, they stepped beyond the threshold, and yet still, he never once removed his touch from her body. From that damned little black number. She’d only worn it because she’d been set up on a blind date. They were supposed to meet up at the bar for a drink before going to a play, but as it turns out, even guys who like theatre can ghost.
When Y/N realized the situation, she wanted to go home, as her date was the one who had the tickets, pull this thing off and drink the already opened bottle of wine that was in the fridge, but she could have at least one good cocktail before that.
That’s when Dr. Robby, or as he’d asked her to call him by his first name, Michael, slid into the seat next to her. They didn’t talk for the first five minutes, not until she’d been scrolling through Instagram and some post had caught her eye. Something about green tea enemas and glowing skin, and the man beside had released a heavy-duty sigh, accompanied by “fucking Dr. Google.”
It’s when slowly but surely, they’d struck up a conversation, which had now resulted in Y/N having Michael towering over her, his beard scratching against the crook of her neck where he’d placed his chin.
When his hands wove and settled against her stomach, any sort of resolve she’d had, snapped. Instantly, she turned, weaving her arms around his neck and pulling his mouth to hers in a bruising kind of kiss. The kind that left you breathless and dizzy and wanting more.
She felt an insatiable thrill rush down her spine as Michael responded with just as much vigor, the pads of his fingers digging deep into her hips and pulling her to be flush against his chest, so much so, that Y/N could feel his own desire growing in his groin.
“I’ve never hated clothes more than I do right now,” she giggled as Michael grappled with the door handle and pushed it close without disconnecting from one another.
“Then let’s get them off, shall we?”
The way he dragged the side zipper open, was almost reverent, worshipping even. Like he wanted to prolong the build-up between them, and Y/N couldn’t lie – she was loving it, even if she was losing her mind. So many times, when she’d had hook-ups, guys tended to just get her naked as fast as possible, which was fine. She was down for it, but there was something indescribable about how Michael reveled in feeling her slowly start to tremble, in how he kissed up and down her neck, while his fingers took their sweet time. It drove her insane with want, in an amount she’d never felt before.
His pointer finger dragged its way up Y/N’s bicep, making goosebumps erupt all over before he slowly slid a strap down. Then the other, until the dress was pooling around her waist, and still, where usually she’d be helping the guy shimmy herself out of the dress, Michael didn’t rush. He simply allowed his hands to explore her body, skimming along her ribs and up to the black lacy number she’d worn, then right back down.
“You counting if I have all my ribs in place, Dr. Robby?” Y/N let out a shaky breath, trying to alleviate the gathered tension, for she was just about to combust, but all she got was a soft smile as he leaned down and pressed a kiss to her neck where her pulse was visibly thrumming.
“I don’t have much time in my day to stop and admire art. So please, indulge me. And art, which I’m allowed to touch, should be revered even more so.”
Her eyes may or may not have rolled to the back of her head at his words, and he hadn’t even gotten his head between her legs yet. Yeah, Dr. Michael “Robby” Robinavitch, the attending of a trauma centre, would be the death of her.
Name of the deceased - Y/N Y/L/N.
Date of death - 4th of April, 2025.
Cause of death – self-combustion.
Reason for self-combustion – a sexy as fuck doctor.
Quite honestly, if that was how she was going to go, so be it.
Finally, though, after what felt like ages, her dress was shed, leaving her only in her underwear and strappy high-heels she’d worn.
“If there is one thing I hate, it’s not having a photographic memory,” Michael grumbled as his hands skimmed along the waistband of her panties. “But trust me when I say this, I will be picturing this moment for decades to come.”
“You are more than welcome to have a look at what’s hiding underneath,” Y/N said. Or that is what she would have said, had she not simply whimpered in response. Not very sexy of her, but the feeling of his chest rumbling with a laugh, totally made up for it.
She gathered enough of her bearings to step out of the fabric around her feet and move them along to her room. Never did his eyes leave her, never did his gaze waver or wander as they faced one another, her queen-sized bed behind her.
“You are awfully overdressed,” Y/N mumbled, allowing herself the luxury of running her palms along the still-covered planed of his chest. His breathing was steady, but to feel the erratic thumping of his heart excited her beyond measure. It meant all that composure was just an act, and she was thrilled she’d be the one to crack it.
She was just about to move her fingers to the buttons of his shirt when Michael slid down to his knees. If his hands hadn’t been resting against her thighs, she was sure she would’ve buckled and crashed. And Michael, damn the man to hell and back, knew it, if only by the smirk that stretched his face as he unlaced the strappy heels she had on and helped her stand on her feet.
Y/N covered her face and groaned, throwing her head back. “You’re enjoying this, aren’t you? Torturing me?”
“Torturing you?” A kiss against her navel. “The only person being tortured tonight has been me. At the bar. In the car. Even now, you’re driving me crazy. So, if this is torture, simply consider it payback.”
With the gentlest of touches, only a doctor could manage, Michael skimmed over Y/N’s stretchmarks, scars and blemishes – pieces of herself she didn’t particularly like, but the way he touched her… it was like he was mapping out the carve-marks of a Michelangelo statue. She was Venus and those – the history of her life.
By the time he got back up to her mouth, she was a trembling mess, her nails digging into the muscles of his back, as finally, to her relief, he allowed her to rid him of the shirt.
Much like he’d done to her, Y/N allowed herself the pleasure of exploring his body, mapping out the ridges and slopes of his chest and abdomen, before moving around to his back, and once they made their way to the small of it, she dug her nails against the skin there. The groan she was rewarded with, was sweeter than the cocktail he’d bought her.
“Is it okay, if I touch you here?” Michael’s fingers slipped along the tops of her breasts before they moved to her back where they toyed with the clasp of the garment.
“More than,” Y/N’s words were a breathless whisper by that point, and her inhale stuttered in her chest as she deftly snapped it open.
It was clear he had experience, and not just because he was two decades her senior, but probably also because he’d done so in the trauma center, he worked at. For a brief, stupid second, she wondered how he could still find such acts pleasurable when he’d no doubt had to have done it during horrendous emergencies, yet all that was wiped away when Michael lowered his head and his teeth grazed a nipple.
Her sharp gasp echoed around them, and Y/N weaved her fingers through his hair, pushing his face closer, as he lavished at her chest. The next day, she was sure, there would be bruises and love bites blooming like flowers across her chest and sternum, not to mention the delicious beard burn.
Y/N moaned as he pulled the peak into his mouth, but when an uninhibited thought entered, it made her throw it back in a deep groan.
“That feel good?”
“So fucking good, but also, so yeah, I,” she stammered trying to get her brain to cooperate and create a coherent sentence. “Okay, so I just imagined you in glasses, and this got like ten times hotter.”
“Glasses?” Michael chuckled, pulling slightly back and looking up at her. “That’s what does it for you?”
“Correction – you in glasses. Though you right now are so doing it for me too. But that image just… yeah… kinda glad you don’t have any on. I’d probably be a pile of ash by this point.”
“Now that would be a shame, wouldn’t it?” He said, slowly moving to her other breast, but not neglecting the one he’d already loved on, by cupping it in his large palm. “I mean, I’m just getting started.”
Yeah, Y/N was dead and done for.
As he continued licking at her chest, the hand that’d been fondling one of them, slid down her front and tentatively brushed against her clothed core. It was a single knuckle right against where her clit was, but it was enough for her to jolt in his grasp. Michael just steadied her and held tighter around her waist.
Once he deemed Y/N’s breasts worshipped enough, he trailed back up between them and covered her mouth with his, yet the knuckle, that damned fucking knuckle, still slid against her pussy. He could no doubt feel how wet she was, the material, though there wasn’t much of it anyway, soaked through so bad, her thighs were already sticky.
“Michael please,” Y/N was now openly begging. She was way beyond feeling embarrassed for such a move when in the span of half an hour, he’d reduced her to liquid fire. No one had ever made her feel this wanted. This needed. And she desperately wanted and needed him too.
“Tell me what you want,” he murmured, as he pushed his thumbs beyond the waistband of her panties and started to lower them down. The cool air hit her exposed core, and Y/N released a breathless moan. “You gotta tell me what you want and don’t want. I’m not gonna go any further until you do.”
“I want you to touch me.”
“I am touching you.”
She could feel him smirk as his hands took hold of the globes of her ass and squeezed.
“No, I want you to touch me there,” Y/N whined and tried to chase his mouth with hers, but Michael pulled back, shaking his head.
“Gotta be more specific than that, sweetheart.”
She debated on pulling away completely, on not giving him what he wanted either, but she was pathetic for this man. So, instead, she took one of his hands and guided it from where it rested against her ass, towards the front, sighing in relief as he let her do so. With her fingers guiding his, they slid to rest between her legs as Michael slowly, ever so exploratory, found her clit. She pressed her hand harder against his, so he could match the pressure on her core, and when he did so, overwhelming pleasure flooded her veins.
“There,” Y/N breathed. “I want you to touch me there. And then,” she moved his hand deeper, by the wrist, until she could feel the pads of his fingers nudging against her entrance. “I want you to put three of your fingers inside me, while you suck on my clit, until I’m a crying mess.”
As Y/N lifted her head back to look at him, there was absolutely no sign of the warm brown irises that’d looked at her so gently at the bar. Sure, it was dark in the apartment, yet even in bright daylight, she’d bet all her student loans, only two black abysses would be staring back at her, especially with how fast his chest was rising and falling.
“And then?”
God, had his voice dropped even lower? How did he manage to make it so gravelly, yet smooth as the darkest, most succulent chocolate?
“And then…” Her fingers trembled as she moved her hands to the front of his pants, undoing the buckle and flipping open the button, lowering the zipper as she went. All the while, Michael applied steady pressure on her clit, circling the bundle of nerves just enough to drive her towards the edge, but not enough for release to come. “And uhm, then…” She pushed his pants down as far as they would go, letting them bunch around his knees.
It took barely a moment for him to step out of them completely, kicking them to some forgotten corner of her room, leaving him in only his boxers. Somewhere along the way he’d lost the shoes and socks, but Y/N wasn’t about to go and hunt for them. Not with how he still circled her clit with those experienced appendages.
“Yes?” He raised a brow and pressed harder against her clit, making her pull in a sharp breath.
“And then,” Y/N trailed a teasing finger along the band of his boxers, for once delighting in how his abdomen muscles went taut, and his obviously hard dick twitched inside the confines. “And then I want you to fuck me. However, you want to. As long as by the end of it, neither of us know up from down and left from right.”
When she cupped him over the clothes he still had left on, it seemed like it snapped something in Michael, some taut, already fragile wire, that’d begun fraying ever since she’d invited him back to her place. Because this time when he kissed Y/N, it was a hungry kiss. A man starved being served the most lavish meal of all.
She was on the mattress in a matter of seconds, body covered by his towering frame. They molded perfectly together, Y/N thought. When she rolled her hips up to get at least some form of friction, he responded in kind, clearly searching to satiate his own desire.
Michael’s hands slid from her shoulders down the length of her arms before intertwining their fingers and bringing them up and over Y/N’s head, not once disconnecting from the kiss.
“You keep them there,” he instructed, breathing the words into her mouth. “And when I’m done with my appetizer, we’ll move on to the first of the main courses.”
“Appetizer?” Y/N squeaked out. A good hook-up in her books was at least two orgasms, usually only having one. But calling eating her out an appetizer, and then having a numbered list of courses, was something else completely.
Michael’s only response was that same damned smirk she’d learned could only mean torture, as he made his way between her legs, and without wasting another second, diving in between them.
The first lick of his tongue was a broad, all-encompassing one. And Y/N could only hope her neighbors had some good noise-cancelling headphones at the ready.
His forearms had settled against her hips and palms splayed themselves over her stomach to push her down against the bed, as she tried to chase his mouth.
And what a mouth it was.
Who knew the soft-spoken trauma doctor she’d met on a random Friday night at a bar while waiting for a date that never came, would be the creation of the Devil himself?
But when he pushed two thick fingers inside, shortly followed by a third, just like Y/N had asked, all thoughts flew out of the window. The way he curled them in an attempt at finding that spot that made her gasp and choke on air, the way he scissored them, stretching her, preparing her for the first course he had in mind, was diabolical.
Her first orgasm came unexpectedly. She could feel it like a wave – pushing and pulling – but she hadn’t expected the moment it crested and shattered against the rocks, swift and sharp, coming without a warning, all due to the teasing that’d happened before, no doubt.
Michael rode it out with Y/N, until her hips stopped grinding against his mouth, and he could gently remove his fingers from her pussy.
He placed a soft kiss against the inside of her thigh, the skin raw and tender from his beard, that now glistened with her juices.
“ ‘M sorry,” Y/N mumbled, an arm thrown over her eyes as she came down from her high and tears streamed down to her temples, just like she’d requested.
“Whatever for?”
“Didn’t warn you I was coming.”
As the aftershocks receded, and she removed her arm, she found Michael looking up at her completely puzzled. “And why would I need a warning? I could tell, you know.” He rose to hover over her. “The way you were clenching. Fucking proud of it too.”
“No, I mean,” she huffed, trailing a hand down his chest. “Sometimes guys don’t want to… you know… have that in their mouth. They’d rather finish a girl off with their fingers and not have to… taste it.”
Now that was one way to kill a mood, but Y/N had already opened her big mouth and the words were out.
“And why wouldn’t I want to taste it, hmm?” Michael tilted his head at her, as his hands drifted up and down her sides, over her breasts and clavicles, to skim along her neck and finally settle on the pillow beside her head. “Why wouldn’t I want that, when it’s the end goal? You got your tears,” he kissed the corners of her eyes where the salt still lingered. “And I got my wine.”
Her gaze drifted to the beard, the one she would be feeling for days to come, as she went about her life. The one that was glistening with the remnants of her orgasm even in the dark, and Y/N wondered, what it would be like to sit atop it. To have him pull her down by the waist as she claimed his mouth for her throne. They were such salacious thoughts, for a moment, embarrassment flushed through her, but come on! After such an eating out, Y/N was allowed to fantasize.
“And by the end of this, if you let me,” Michael mumbled, a golden chain dangling in between them. Quickly she snatched it between her teeth and pulled, making him come closer. “I’d like to do so at least once more.”
“You are absolutely welcome to it. Morning, noon and night.”
But at that moment, Y/N had no intentions of allowing him to go for another round, as when he leaned down for a kiss, she lifted a leg over his hip and twisted, throwing Michael off his balance and onto his back, with her now on top.
“But right now… you had your starter.” She gave him a wicked grin. “And I’ve yet to still have mine.”
“Fuck me,” was all he managed to groan out as he threaded a hand through his hair, head pressed tight against her silk-covered pillows while Y/N rid him of his boxers.
His length sprang free, thick and aching. It slapped against his abdomen and her hand curled around it immediately to give him some sort of relief, precum dripping from the tip. Or maybe, she intended to do quite the opposite.
He’d taken his sweet fucking time riling her up. She could take hers. But it was the way he let out the smallest of “please”, the way his eyes locked onto hers, practically begging to put him out of his misery, that did her in. She’d tease him come morning. For now, she was way too aroused herself to deprive her body of his any longer.
Y/N gathered a bit of saliva in her mouth and let it drip down onto his length, before dragging her tongue along the vein at the base of it, her lips wrapping around the tip as she made her way up and giving it a gentle, yet firm, suck.
Michael’s hips jolted, and a hand grasped onto her head. He didn’t push it down or pull her hair in any way, more so it seemed he needed something solid to hold onto as she pulled his length into her mouth, until it hit the back of her throat, making both of them choke.
“You don’t need to do that,” Michael started, ready to pull Y/N away if it became too much for her, but she stayed there, relaxing her muscles bit by bit, until he was so deep down her throat, her nose brushed against the hairs of his pelvis.
“Fucking. Hell.” Those were the only two words he managed to express before Y/N trailed her mouth up and started to really suck him off. After that, it was just grunts and groans, his hand tightening and then unclenching in her hair, but never pressing, never pushing her to take more than she wanted to. Michael was completely immersed with her pace, and ready to take whatever she gave him.
That sort of power could make anyone lightheaded, and when Y/N started to feel him twitch in her mouth, she pulled completely off.
Instantly, his eyes snapped open, head rising to look at how she climbed his body and settled her knees around his hips, pressing her core down against his length. She was just about ready to let it slide inside when Michael’s hands closed around her waist and stopped her.
“Condom,” he breathed out, chest rising and falling rapidly, probably the only word he could manage, which was great, because at least one of them still had some thinking skills left.
“Shit. Fuck. Right, yeah.”
Leaning over to her nightstand, Y/N half-fell over the bed to open the lowest drawer. In between her panties and vibrator, was a little foil packet which she fished out. She was glad of Michael’s unwavering hold, because the way she was precariously dangling over the edge, could end badly and with a stupidly gotten concussion.
When she was back to straddling him, opening the packet and rolling the condom on his length, their eyes met.
Michael rubbed his thumb in a circle on her hip. “We can always stop if you don’t want to go any further.”
“I’m not a quitter,” Y/N scoffed, yet it didn’t elicit the smile she was aiming for, as he rose into a sitting position, wrapping his arms around her, hers resting onto his shoulders.
“And this isn’t some race or competition. You can revoke consent anytime you want. And so can I.”
“I know that,” Y/N nodded, her gaze softening at his words. He could easily create a power imbalance between them. With double the decades of age and experience on her, Michael could be pushing at her limits, trying to twist things into teaching her how to properly please a guy and so on, yet throughout all of it, his focus had been zeroed in on her wants and needs. She shifted a bit in her lap at the thought that she hadn’t checked in with him. “Do you want to stop?”
“No.” His voice was soft but sure, and then, after a moment of him searching her eyes, the smile she’d hoped for, formed on his face. “But uh, and that is obviously if you are alright with it, I wouldn’t be opposed to adding your… friend… to our activities sometime later.”
“My friend?” Y/N tilted her head in confusion. “Oh…” A furious heat exploded through her body, and not because of the fact Michael’s cock was slowly rubbing against her clit, the head nudging just right for pleasure to zing through her.
He’d obviously noticed her vibrator, though the bright purple shade would be hard to miss. “You’re not turned off by it?”
“Why would I be? You’re a woman who has needs. And if that’s how you take care of them, it’s completely fine. I mean, as long as you’re being hygienic and safe about it. Besides,” Michael breathed against her neck, as his hand slid between their bodies and he grasped himself, lining the tip up with Y/N’s entrance. “Real men see them as tools to use to their advantage, not competition. And well, not to stroke my own ego,” he smirked, “but I don’t think I have any competition here.”
Y/N wanted to call him out for that statement, but he wasn’t lying. Not with the way his length stretched her out as he pushed inside. The fingering beforehand was incomparable to the feel of Michael sliding inside at a slow and agonizing pace, but one she desperately needed and welcomed.
He was thick and veiny, all ridges and girth, and so, so perfect for her.
It took a minute for him to be fully sheathed, and a minute more for Y/N to adjust, her forehead pressed against his, while he rubbed his hands up and down her back while she settled.
This wasn’t fucking. This was sex. This was intimate, and it was something she hadn’t known she’d wanted from a partner. Usually, it was fast and hard, leaving both her and the guy she was with, panting against the sheets. Satisfied in the sense that both (hopefully) had had orgasms, but something was always missing. Now, Y/N knew it was this – time.
Time spent exploring one another, time spent learning and teaching, and time spent simply enjoying each other’s bodies.
“You good?” Michael muttered, shifting ever so slightly and making the tip catch a spot inside of her, Y/N had only reached with her purple “friend”.
“Yeah,” she nodded. “You?”
“Yeah.” Michael kissed her. Whether as an affirmation of his words or simply because he could, she didn’t know. But neither did she care. He was the best kisser she’d had the opportunity to enjoy, so she’d take it.
While they kissed, Michael started moving. At first, it was slow rolls of hips, figuring out what movements made both of their breaths hitch and hearts pound, but it wasn’t long before Michael was on his back, knees bent as Y/N bounced up and down, his thumb pressed against her clit the whole time.
Her second orgasm of the night was a more controlled approach. She could feel the coil tightening in her abdomen, and when Michael started lifting his hips up to meet hers, Y/N listed forward, balancing herself against his chest.
“You gonna come?” he breathed against her ear as she pressed her chest against his, Michael’s hands wrapping along the small of her back and holding onto it, so he could fuck up into her pussy. “I can feel you clenching around me. Fuck, you feel good.”
“Michael,” Y/N moaned his name. Not Dr. Robby or Robby how he’d explained the people in his life called him, but the name he’d asked her to call him. His real name.
One snap, two, three. That was all it took for heat to explode. The only grounding thing in the world was his scent – some form of cheap cologne, antiseptic and sweat, but she knew she still had a long way before she came down, with how he was drilling up inside of her, chasing his own release.
It elicited another, albeit smaller orgasm, but the most pleasure she got was when she realized he’d come with her as his palms grabbed onto her ass and pulled her sharply down, her name a sweet grunt on his lips against her ear.
Yeah. Y/N needed to go out with more doctors. At least they knew where to find the clit and not neglect it once they had.
He brought a hand up to her face and pulled her by the cheek to meet his mouth, a satisfied sigh leaving her as he did so.
“That was the best one yet,” Y/N mumbled against his lips.
“And the night’s still young.”
They went three more rounds after that (because she only had three more condoms, and she’d rather use them on one man who knew how to make her come three more times, than three men, who would have trouble getting one out of her).
Michael was also a man of his word, as he had her vibrator join in on the fun. Y/N had her ass up in the air while he railed her from behind, an arm wrapped around her middle, pressing the toy to her clit, the vibrations sending pleasure unlike any other through her.
His front was flush to her back, beard having left delicious burns down her spine, as he’d kissed her there, before eating her out once more in between the rounds and pushing his again-hard cock inside.
That was the final orgasm she could manage, and it seemed Michael knew it. It was the kind that not only made her legs, but her whole body shake, leaving Y/N a trembling mess against the sheets, while he soothed her through the aftershocks.
“You with me, sweetheart?” he mumbled against her temple as he gathered her in his arms and laid them side by side.
“Jus’ give me a momen’,” Y/N slurred while Michael brushed a finger from her cheek to her jaw and back. “I think I’m a medical fucking miracle with how you just fucked my brains out, and yet, I can still function. Barely though.”
Michael’s chuckle reverberated through her body, as after she’d recovered slightly, he gathered her up and moved them to where she instructed the bathroom was, to make sure she peed and didn’t get a UTI. If these had been normal circumstances, she would have never let a guy see her peeing, but quite honestly, Y/N wasn’t sure she’d be able to get back from the toilet seat on her own.
“You’re more than welcome to have a shower if you want. Of course, only if you’re down with smelling like peaches or passion fruit.” Y/N nudged her chin towards the shower gels lining the floor, one hers, the other Sara’s.
“I wouldn’t be opposed to, but only if you join me.”
She hissed, biting her lip. “I don’t have any condoms left. Besides, from what I’ve heard and read, shower sex can be quite precarious. I’m surprised that you as a trauma doctor would risk such a thing.”
“I’m not asking to have sex,” Michale laughed and helped her stand on her still wobbly legs after she flushed. “I’m asking for you to shower with me. Nothing more, nothing less.”
And that’s what they actually did. They simply had a shower. Michael washed her back and she washed his, along with his hair. When she did so, the blissful look on his face, the way he allowed himself to melt against her touch, sent a new kind of thrill through her. But it also made her wonder – when was the last time he allowed someone to take care of him?
By the time they got out from under the water, it was close to four in the morning, so they dried themselves down and went to bed. Y/N’s down duvet was a warm and fluffy cloud around them. Sure, she could have asked him to leave, but why would she, when he seemed so content to be there? Whether anything came from it once they awoke, didn’t matter. If he didn’t want to leave at that moment, Y/N would be the last person to push him to.
She drifted off almost instantly, warm and safe in Michael’s hold, but when the real morning came and she rubbed the sleep from her eyes, body sore and satiated, she was met with a cold spot next to her.
There was no fucking sign on Michael, and judging by how she’d been tucked in, he’d left a while back.
Her dress and underwear had been neatly laid out on the chair in her room, heels tucked beneath it. As she ventured into the apartment, there were absolutely no signs of him, except for a cup of tea on the kitchenette. She knew it’d been made for her – it was filled to the brim, but much like the sheets, it was also already cold.
Sourness settled in her mouth as she poured the liquid down the drain. Not even a single fucking note. It was like they’d never even met.
Y/N hadn’t expected him to leave his phone number, God forbid, his address, what with how he’d laughed when she’d told him she was twenty-six, and he’d responded that he could be her father with that age gap. She knew she was some kind of spur-of-the-moment mistake he’d made. A weakness in his judgement, but fucking hell, she at least deserved an “it was great meeting you, wish you all the best,” note. Especially because he knew the only reason she’d gone to the bar was because she’d been ghosted by a date.
And now – now Michael was also a ghost, an unscratchable, unreachable itch under her skin she couldn’t get to.
That was the real reason Y/N’d felt so bitter for the past two weeks. If he’d been a bad lay, or maybe she’d been the bad party, she would understand the one-and-done-dump, but something about falling asleep while being wrapped up in one another, and then just leaving without so much as a goodbye, was crueler than if he’d left while she was still coming down from her release.
Now though, as she watched him while they waited at the nurse’s station, she noted how his fingers twitched by his side. She wondered whether he wanted to touch her as badly as she wanted to touch him, but then horrible reality kicked in – there wouldn’t be any sort of touching for a while.
She was stuck with her leg in a cast, and a scheduled check-up with Dr. Langdon in a week to take it off and remove the stitches, before it would get swaddled again for a month or more.
Y/N cursed the day she’d met Dr. Michael Robinavitch, for he’d released a monster of carnal urges, she didn’t even really know resided in her. And he was the only one who knew how to properly tame it because even in his scrubs and hoodie, surrounded by the smell of antiseptic and all sorts of bodily fluids she didn’t want to think about, all she wanted to do was grab him by the neck and get him to some supply closet to have her way with him like they were actually in Grey’s Anatomy.
“Michael, I,” Y/N started but got cut off by Sara waltzing into the emergency department.
“How’s my pirate doing?” She threw her arms around her shoulders and squeezed. “They assign you a parrot yet?”
“I don’t have a fucking peg-leg.” Y/N rolled her eyes as she signed a final form. With that, Sara took the wheelchair handles, gave Dana a salute and wheeled her out of the hospital, making Y/N crane her neck back and shout a final thank you to the nurse.
She was just about to ask Sara to slow down as she needed to talk to Michael, when she felt his presence moving with them, silent, steady and strong, his hands taking hold of the crutches as the automatic doors opened.
He followed them out and once they got to Sara’s car, helped Y/N settle in the front seat.
“You good?” He tucked a strand behind her ear.
“Yeah.” She gave him a genuine smile, and her heart pounded in her chest as his eyes trailed to trace her lips. “I am. Thank you. For taking care of me in there.”
“Honestly, I can’t believe I’m saying this, but the only time I’d like to see you back here is for your check-ups.”
Y/N nodded, suppressing a smile. “Duly noted. No shower karaoke for me.”
“I’m serious. You have an appointment with Frank in a week, but other than that, please take care of yourself, alright?”
“You don’t have to worry about that.” She nudged her head towards Sara who was wrangling the crutches inside the boot of the car. “Mother hen is on the job.”
“Good.” Michael nodded and before Y/N could properly prepare herself, he’d leaned down, cupping her jaw in his hands and kissed her.
Her brain short-circuited at that, but when his tongue probed against the seal of her lips, she had to start wondering if she’d actually died when she’d hit her head in the shower. It didn’t take more than that though for her to open up, for her arms to brush against his scrubs and weave into the salt-and-pepper hair.
By the time Michael pulled back, both their lips were kiss-swollen.
“Let me take you out on a date.”
Y/N let out a breathless laugh, scratching the back of his neck. “What happened to the doctor-patient thing?”
Michael only smirked. “You’ve been discharged. You’re no longer a patient of mine.”
“Okay, but even so – what would we do? My leg’s in a cast, and I can barely hobble around with the crutches.”
“I can carry you. I don’t mind.”
“And throw out your back, old man?”
“Hey, I’m not that old!” Michael protested, and when he noted the smile on her mouth, he pressed his against it once more.
“How about this,” Y/N proposed, “when you’re done with your shift, you could come over to my place, and -,”
“Our place,” Sara butted in, sliding into the driver’s seat. “So, whatever you have in mind – no hanky-panky with me next door.”
If Y/N rolled her eyes any harder they would get stuck in the back of her head, but she returned her attention to the awaiting attendant. “And we order some take-out. We watch a movie and then just… go to sleep?”
“It might be very late by the time I’m off.”
When she raised her hand and cupped his rugged cheek, it took him no time at all to lean into her touch. “I can wait.” She pecked his lips. “I’m in no rush.” She could only hope he understood the double meaning behind what she meant with it.
Later that night as Y/N sat by the TV, the glow of the screen illuminating her face, she fell asleep with her head against Michael’s chest.
And when she awoke, her sheets were warm with the remnants of his body, even if he wasn't there anymore.
She was alone, yes, but atop the pillow rested a note:
Shift started at 8. Sorry, I can’t be there to wake up with you.
I’ll be home by 9.
It was almost impossible to wipe the smile off her face for the rest of the day.
Even as the itching under the cast started.
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Tags: are open :) if you wish to be tagged in further fics, please drop a comment under the fic or message me or leave me an ask :)
A/N: I have arisen
if you wish to know how this man makes me feel, please listen to Slutty by The Scarlet Opera.
I am FERAL.
P.S. I hope you enjoyed it :) feedback/constructive criticism is always appreciated :)
Summary: The youngest daughter of Queen Charlotte and King George, plagued by the same illness as her father, grows tired of her lonely and isolated existence. When escaping the prison-like castle she has been sequestered in for her entire life, she meets a young man who shares her love for painting and whom she can not stop thinking about. Secrets, betrayal, and love all fight against one another. Which one will win?
Series Warnings: Love at first sight; POV third person; eventual smut; isolation; dramatic/inaccurate depictions of mental illness; thoughts of death; there will be fluff, okay? I swear; potential historical inaccuracies; complex mother/daughter relationship; historical medical practices; SIMP Benedict; idgaf about historical canon; complicated sibling relationships; execution by hanging
Tags specified before each chapter
(Tags will be updated as the story continues)
Last Updated: 03/28/24 (Complete)
*indicates smut
Chapter One - Loathing Boredom
Chapter Two - Ruinous Secrets
Chapter Three - Never is a Promise
Chapter Four - As the Poets Say
Chapter Five - Vagrant Body
Chapter Six - Codes and Clues
Chapter Seven - Dig My Fingers in
Chapter Eight - No Light of My Own
Chapter Nine - This Sweet Plague *
Chapter Ten - Tricked By the Past
Chapter Eleven - No Label, No Name
Chapter Twelve - Keeping Time
Chapter Thirteen - Only You Can Mend
Chapter Fourteen - Not Above Violence
Interlude - Lady Whistledown
Chapter Fifteen - Matching Wounds
Chapter Sixteen - Go Along to Be With You
Chapter Seventeen - Balanced on Desire
Interlude - Marietta
Chapter Eighteen - Oh, My One
Chapter Nineteen - Like Fuel to Fire *
Chapter Twenty - If I Send for You
Interlude - Honeymoon *
Chapter Twenty One - An Atom and a Star
Chapter Twenty Two - The Bed I Was Born In *
Chapter Twenty Three - Don't Wait to Understand
Chapter Twenty Four - Fingers Laced a Crown
Chapter Twenty Five - Here to Kingdom Come *
Epilogue - A Moment, A Love
Drabble - Pall Mall
Drabble - Picnic
Drabble - Like Mother, Like Son
Drabble - Jealousy
Drabble - More Than a Maid
Drabble - Coronation Day
Drabble - Second Son
Drabble - Number Four
Drabble - Reasonably Unreasonable
Drabble - Tag, You're It
Drabble - Sisters
Drabble - Spoiled
Drabble - Opal of the Season
Drabble - Fit for Family
Drabble - Garden in Bloom * (smut adjacent)
Drabble - What if? AU
here are some jack abbot stories i’ve read, loved, and reblogged. all the admiration for the writers who share their talent so generously. please be sure to read the warnings on each fic. and if you enjoy them, let the author know by a comment, reblog, or both! ♡
ᝰ.ᐟ key: A- angst I F- fluff I S- smut I C- comfort I ~S- implied smut I H/C -comfort
☆ no man's land pt2 pt3 ── @butyoudidthis4what I A + S
Development of your relationship through vignettes of the past and conversations between Jack, Dana and Robby. There's a shooting where you work. Jack is at the ED when the dispatch comes in and is terrified when he can't get in touch with you.
☆ i can’t protect you from everything ── @abbotjack I S + H/C
You’re assaulted in the ER. Jack sees red. But it’s not just the rage—it’s the fallout, the quiet after, the grief, the guilt, the way he holds you like his own body can bring you back to life.
☆ pregnant!reader pt2 ── @/abbotjack I F + S
☆ don't make me someone you can't have ── @/abbotjack I A + S
The fallout didn’t start the day of Pitt Fest—it started when you told Jack Abbot how you felt and he told you he didn’t want you. A week later, grief, jealousy, and everything unsaid ignite into something impossible to bury.
☆ message received ── @/abbotjack I S
☆ wrong husband ── @aquaholicsanonymousworld I F
You’re used to the new interns making assumptions. You and Dr. Robby have always been close—best friends since residency, the kind of dynamic that makes people look twice. So when this new batch starts whispering about the “work-marriage” between the two of you, neither of you bother to correct it. Until Jack walks in.
☆ overprotective bf!jack ── @/aquaholicsanonymousworld I F
☆ listed ── @/aquaholicsanonymousworld I C
Dr. Jack Abbott isn’t a man who lets his guard down easily. He’s precise. Composed. Rational. But when he finds out you — bright, mid-20s, and entirely too stubborn for your own good — listed him as your emergency contact, something in him unravels. Not because he doesn’t care. But because he cares too much.
☆ busy bee ── @mercvry-glow I H/C
you and your son take a trip to the pitt after an encounter with a bee. unfortunately, or maybe fortunately, your husband's working.
☆ love me hard, love me soft ── @/mercvry-glow I F
jack abbot isn't a soft man, but he'll learn for you.
☆ get your sparkle on ── @/mercvry-glow I F
Jack's wife take a visit to the er after an eventful a.m. practice at her gym and trouble ensues with her gaggle of cheerleaders.
☆ you, me, & empty space between us ── @/mercvry-glow I A + C
☆ hey lover ── @/mercvry-glow I H/C
☆ stop making this hurt ── @/mercvry-glow I A + C
jack knew he didn’t want to go to pitt fest, instead suggesting you take a few of your girl friends on your day off. little does he know that decision leads to you experiencing the worst day of your life without him.
☆ it's never over ── @/mercvry-glow I H/C
☆ stubborn love ── @/mercvry-glow I H/C
you take your son to pitt-fest, expecting to have a day filled with love and quality time. little do you know the universe has other plans for you instead.
☆ all that glitters pt2 ── @/mercvry-glow I A + F + S
jack isn't a materialistic man, and you try your best not to be spoiled—but when your man gets flirted with, maybe it's time to flaunt the rings?
☆ early spring snow ── @science-hoes I F
The reader learns some surprising news after taking a fall that lands her back in the Pitt after her shift.
☆ one night stand pt2 pt3 pt4 pt5 pt6 pt6.5 ── @spaceyaemonds I F + A + S
you have a one night stand with an extremely attractive older man, but it doesn’t seem like you’ll see him again. fate has other plans, it seems.
☆ request ── @/spaceyaemonds I F
whitaker mistakes jacks baby for his grandchild
☆ cast ── @asxgard I A + F
After an incident at baseball practice, you and your son end up in the ER.
☆ in your defense ── @/asxgard I C
After getting on your nerves all day, you and Santos finally go toe-to-toe over a patient. Jack comes to your defense.
☆ semper fi pt2 pt3 pt4 pt5 ── @/asxgard I A + S
You’re the ray of sunshine to Jack’s rain cloud. What do they say about opposites attracting?
☆ these walls have eyes ── @/asxgard I F
Rumors always start somewhere — and the one about you and a certain attending started somewhere between a whispered confession and Myrna overhearing you.
☆ in the wreckage ── @/asxgard I H/C
It’s in the wreckage of what was that you find hope for what could be.
☆ any excuse ── @/asxgard I F
A snapshot of your interactions with the ruggedly handsome ER doctor, and several of the excuses he uses to see you.
☆ valkyries and betting pools ── @nocapesdahling I F + S
The staff of the Pittsburgh Trauma Medical Hospital’s Emergency Department bet on everything. One of the most popular and secret betting pools is focused on what’s going on with you and Dr. Abbot. The bets range from everything under the sun, but who’s going to win? Meanwhile, you just want to figure out if the man you’ve had a crush on for months likes you back.
☆ chocolate bars and bad injuries pt2 pt3 ── @nineteenninety-six I A + C
Jack unintentionally bonds with a young patient and then somehow even more unintentionally, falls for his older sister.
☆ taking care of each other in the er ── @abbotsanatomy I F
☆ seeing green ── @/abbotsanatomy I A
☆ heart in your throat ── @/abbotsanatomy I H/C
☆ protecting the hive ── @/abbotsanatomy I C
☆ just a walk-in ── @/abbotsanatomy I C
☆ someone new ── @quickestgold I A + C
After witnessing the fallout from Jack's failed marriage, Dana and Robby have been skeptical of his new relationship. But when a freak accident forces them to see the depth of Jack’s feelings, their perspectives shift.
☆ strip her ── @/quickestgold I A + C
Amidst a mass casualty event, Jack’s medical instincts clash with his personal life when the woman he loves risks her own life to save another. Is he about to watch you die?
☆ still life ── @/quickestgold I A
Jack always expects the unexpected, both as a doctor and a partner. But when your water breaks during a citywide blackout, the pressure to deliver your baby safely grows with each contraction, trapping you, him and Robby in a single, still moment of life and loss.
☆ say it first ── @/quickestgold I H/C
Jack has grown used to the emptiness in his heart, a quiet companion that has kept him safe for too long. But when you finally speak your truth, he realizes the hardest battles aren’t fought on the field or in the chaos of the ER, but in the silence between two hearts longing for each other.
☆ drabble ── @pittrabbit I S
☆ one shot pt2 ── @/pittrabbit I A + F + S
jack's insistence on pulling away from you finally caused you to break. that, combined with an unlucky day full of bad outcomes, had you visiting jack's favorite spot.
☆ some protector ── @literazine I H/C
reader is on the receiving end of patient aggression and ends up becoming a trauma patient herself; abbot feels helpless as her life hangs in the balance
☆ daylight ── @/literazine I F
reader drops off lunch for jack after they accidentally swapped, only to walk in on him being flirted with egregiously by a mom; of course, the reader has no choice but to remind the people of what's hers
☆ bite the hand ── @/literazine I H/C + S
being casual with jack abbot was never going to be easy, and soon you realize that you've fallen for a man who's afraid of love
☆ adrenaline ── @tedmustache I F
In the nonstop chaos of The Pitt, two ER doctors find something dangerously steady in each other. Between late shifts, locked doors, and close calls, they navigate a secret that’s as thrilling as it is fragile—because in a place where nothing stays quiet for long, hiding how you feel might be the riskiest move of all.
☆ coffee swap ── @/tedmustache I F
It starts with coffee. Then it becomes something more.
☆ in sync ── @/tedmustache I F
Two doctors work in perfect sync, sparking curiosity among new interns. After shift, subtle truths begin to surface.
☆ triage ── @/tedmustache I F
Amid the nonstop pressure of a Pitt emergency room, one nurse navigates long nights, relentless crises, and two doctors who are harder to read than any medical chart.
☆ bar fight ── @/tedmustache I H/C
A rough night leads Y/N to the ER, and Jack’s only priority is making sure she’s okay.
☆ rookie mistake ── @highdramas I F
☆ soft descent ── @/highdramas I S
(zombie au) the emergency team did everything you could to save PTMC when a new virus brought on the undead, but it simply wasn't enough. so, you set out for where you may be useful-- fort knox. you find something to live for as you do in the first month of the apocalypse.
☆ ring of fire ── @/highdramas I F
you like your little rituals with your attending.
☆ spinning out ── @/highdramas I A + F
you are pittsburgh's sweetheart, the ice princess, the hometown hero. when you come into the emergency room on the worst day of your life, jack is the one who meets his match.
☆ you say that like you care ── @frombookstoretobookstore I A
After reader takes a punch to the face, Abbot's emotions flare as he realizes he might care a little too much.
☆ cat dad abbot ── @/frombookstoretobooktobookstore I F
☆ a teaching moment ── @/frombookstoretobooktobookstore I F
When Abbot's wife tries to sneak in with a small medical emergency, some of the doctors of the ED decide to use it as a teaching moment. Of course, Abbot finds out his wife is in the ER and he's none too happy.
☆ night shift!reader ── @erwinsvow I F
☆ eavesdropping ── @/erwinsvow I S
jack abbot really needs to stop overhearing conversations that he's not a part of.
☆ who let you in ── @eddiesfaerie I H/C + S
Jack has a soft spot. He didn't expect you to be the one to find it.
☆ resident!reader ── @storiesfromasmalltown I F
when your best friend ends up in the ER after her Cowboy themed bachelorette party with a broken leg and a mouth that just keeps talking you might be in over your head.
☆ bitter/sweet pt2 pt3 ── @millers-girl I H/C
when a stubbornly charming chef keeps showing up in his ER, Dr. Jack Abbot finds it harder and harder to ignore the pull toward something—or someone—he didn't plan for…
☆ jealous ── @yxtkiwiyxt I A + F + S
You’re jealous of Dr. Walsh.
☆ free fallin ── @/yxtkiwiyxt I F + ~S
On your birthday, your best friend convinces you to celebrate in a big way. The night takes a wild turn when you get a little too rowdy and accidentally fall off a bar table, ending up in the emergency room. There, you meet the charming and handsome Doctor Abbot.
☆ sweet boy ── @eden031 I F
When her son is having a rough patch, she asks her attending to come to his games, just as a temporary arrangement, of course. Though sometimes something temporary becomes normal.
☆ day after tomorrow pt2 pt3 ── @poisonofthepaint I F + S
☆ ll hands ll heaven ── @thecherrypittttttt I F + A + S
☆ when the sun hits ── @thepencilnerd I F + ~S
What begins as a hospital-wide power outage leaves you trapped in a supply closet with your emotionally unavailable attending. But when the lights come back on, what lingers between you can’t be shut off so easily.
☆ three ── @sarah-the-bird-nerd I A
You and Jack have your own silent way to communicate the love you have for each other which comes in handy after you're injured at Pitt Fest.
As the winds of change spread through Westeros, two families as alike as they are different are swept up into the changing world around them. They must fall apart and come together so that they survive what shall come after.
And when the war is won, they must find it in themselves to pick up the pieces.
On the Horizon (Tyler Owens x F!Reader with minor Scott x Reader | Mature)
You've been pining over your coworker for a while now. He might not have realized but someone has.
Bound (Werewolf!Tyler Owens x Human!F!Reader | Mature)
When a dangerous situation pushes you out of the only home you've never known, you take refuge with an unruly pack of wolves. Tyler Owens might not be the alpha you think you want, but he’s the one you need.
Drabbles
Ride it (Tyler Owens x F!Reader | Mature | 569)
Prompt- "Don't be shy now, sit on my face" with the cowboy himself, Mr. Tyler Owens.
Headcanons
General Tyler headcanons
Top Gun
Oneshots
Flirting For Dummies (Jake “Hangman” Seresin x Reader | Mature l 8.3K)
Turns out the crush you have on one of the pilots that frequents the Hard Deck isn’t quite so unrequited. You’re just bad at recognizing when someone’s flirting with you. Good thing Jake’s happy to help you understand how interested he really is.
Flirting For Dummies follow up drabble
Intoxicated (Jake “Hangman” Seresin x Reader | Explicit | 3.3K)
A drunken confession to your best friend leads to more than you expected.
Play Stupid Games, Win Stupid Prizes (Jake “Hangman” Seresin x Reader | Explicit | 950)
You give Hangman a special memory in the Top Gun rec room on the eve of his graduation.
If You Can’t Take the Heat (Jake “Hangman” Seresin x Reader | Explicit | 935)
You mouth off at the Hard Deck and Jake reminds you who’s really in charge.
Lose Control (Jake “Hangman” Seresin x Reader | Explicit | 1K)
snowghoul
areudirty
origamiaround
janainaart
kaledo-art
prguitarman
