no bedside manner

doctor john maxwell. 24. married. one smart motherfucker owner of private practice

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smokeandcherries:

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Just her luck, Cherry’s stomach had been aching all day. Her eyes flitted up towards the hallway, recognizing the man almost immediately. He was the doctor around here… right? Someone had recommended that she get in touch with him. “Hey there.” She chirped, grinning at the doctor and giving him a quick once over, “You’re the doctor around here, right?”

John had ventured to the lobby to get his mail when he heard the girl’s voice and looked back. She looked like she’d been through some sort of Hell, and that intrigued him to say the least. Turning away from his original task, the man tilted his head, “Yes, I’m a doctor. What’s it to you, darling?” Obviously she was in need of some healing. Little did she know, he was the last person to truly help her.

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peterpce:

    “OH,” he’s feels really awkward as it is, and he stops himself from rubbing the back of his neck – he doesn’t know why he can’t just function like a normal human being. “Then, uh, yeah. A bit.” Even if he’s reassuring him time and time again, he can’t help but be uncomfortable anyways. “I’m not too great in hospitals unless I’m under anesthetic,” he jokes.

John can tell by the nervousness in the boy’s answer that he doesn’t want to go into any explanations. He chuckles, “You wouldn’t be the only one. And we could arrange to put you under, but I guarantee that would only lengthen this process.” He winked at the boy, “This’ll be over before you know it. Now, any trouble breathing or taking deep breaths?”

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yvesfck:

Yves’ first instinct is to kick him, but thankfully he doesn’t do that. What he does do is grit his teeth against the pain and bob his head. “Quite a bit, yeah.”

John continued flexing the ankle for a moment, looking up at Yves’ face to decipher that he was indeed in pain. A part of him wanted to smash the boy’s ankle into something, to make the boy cry out. But he was a good doctor, or at least he was playing one. “Okay,” he released the boy’s ankle, “Try to move it on your own?”

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greylormand:

I’m not touchy. I just don’t enjoy being called anything other than my name,  connard. 

“Ah, well I’ll have you know my name is not Connard, either. So now what are you, touchy or a hypocrite?” he was grinning, because he was having far too much fun messing with this woman. 

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meg-is-a-nut:

“Not really. It’s just been really stuffy, you know?” She answered. Finally, he was done writing things down. Meg hoped she could get something to help her out, but she was sure that at this point he wasn’t going to give her anything too strong. 

Open your mouth wide.

Meg snorted at this with a grin and spoke before opening her mouth. “Kinky, Doc.” Actual child. Once he’d finished, she listened. Now that she’d gotten a better look at him, he was actually quite attractive. Of course, Meg was unable to voice her opinions like an adult, so she simply muttered under her breath like a second grader, so quietly that he may not have even heard her. “Does semen count as a liquid I can drink?” Really? How utterly stupid– but she didn’t crack. 

“Right… Mucinex. Orange juice. Got it.” With that, she hopped down from the exam bed.

At her comment, he resisted the urge to smirk. Because she had no idea just how true her statement was. John Maxwell was a sadistic motherfucker. His sex life was all sorts of interesting, and what he couldn’t get away with in bed with his wife, he found other ways of filling those desires. He’d gotten away with it before, so with her it would be no problem, he was sure. Still, the man had appearances to keep up until he was set in a comfortable place to start his... studies. 

He forced a smile, something that would pass as shy or awkward to her eyes. “Your sexual life is none of my concern,” he commented with a nod, “Though I wouldn’t recommend any of that during your... healing period. Just try to sleep and drink that orange juice, okay?” 

As she hopped down, he turned away from her, taking up the clipboard once more and going over the blank spaces he’d yet to fill out. “I just need your billing address, Meg?” he asked looking back to her quickly. 

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peterpce:

     “NICE to meet you then, John,” he murmurs from the exam table, forcing himself to relax a little. Surprisingly enough he doesn’t flinch as much as he thought he would at the touch to his ribs, thanks to what he hopes is a discreet digging his fingers into his palms, and takes a deep breath before answering. “I – uh, what counts as strenuous?”

“The pleasure is all mine,” John keeps up appearances. Best to gain their trust before crushing it, really. All the more fun to see the panic in his victims’ eyes as they realized they’ve been ensnared in his web. “Well, going to the gym, lifting anything more than say, 50-60 pounds? Some sexual activities can be quite strenuous as well...” he chuckled, shaking his head slowly, “Not to make you uncomfortable, friend.”

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lorenzadimatteo:

Stepping forward, a smile flashed across Lorenza’s face briefly as the words left John’s mouth, “It’s not my fault that I just have to be around.” Crossing her arms over her chest, she answered, “No reason. No reason. Carlo’s out of town, and I’ve been trying to keep myself entertained. Figured I should pay you a visit.”

He faked a gasp, “I’m offended, Lo. You know I didn’t get my doctorate degree simply so I could entertain you and your husband.” Of course, he was joking. There were few people in this world John felt close to, but Carlo and Lorenza both held a special place in his heart. “I can take a lunch break if you’d like to do something?” he suggested with the raise of a brow.

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poppy-williams:

“I wouldn’t even count it as a compliment. A compliment is telling me you like my hair or my smile, it’s not telling me where my ass should be. I’d say it is more objectification than anything.”

“Welcome to New York City, where men look at women as objects and cat-call them daily,” he joked winking at the woman. But it was true, and he could see why a woman would be offended by comments like that. “What on Earth is this world coming to, am I right?”

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greylormand:

My name is not dear, monsieur, and I’d appreciate it if you didn’t call me that again. 

“Oh excusez-moi, mon cher,” he didn’t let up, amused by the encounter, “I wonder why it is people get so touchy at simple terms of endearment.”

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yvesfck:

”Not much surprises me, I believe it,” Yves comments, obediently lowering himself onto the exam table and stripping his foot of it’s sock and shoe. He props it up in front of himself, fidgeting with his fringe while he waits. “Unfortunately I’m not faking it, nor am I hooked on prescription pills. Don’t think I could afford it.” 

John waits patiently for the boy to follow his instructions before stepping forward and kneeling down to inspect the ankle. “Good, because it’s a dangerous addiction,” he comments, though he couldn’t have truly given a rat’s ass about this man’s safety. Placing on a pair of gloves, John took the boy’s foot in his hands and began to move it flexing the ankle back and forth, “Does this hurt?”

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coratkwon:

‘‘I’ve got this awful crick in my neck that just won’t go away.’‘

He looked her over, “Well, that’s no good. Come on in, I’ll take a look.”

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peterpce:

     PETER follows his instructions, laying down and pulling his shirt up. “So uh. What’s your name?”

Turning away from the boy, he scribbled down something on a piece of paper on a clip board. “Oh, how rude of me. I’m Doctor John Maxwell. Though you can skip the formalities and call my John if it makes you feel more comfortable.” He finally faced the kid again and approached the side of the exam bed, “Hm, you’ve got slight bruising. A bit of swelling...” His hand gently found the boy’s ribs, “Have you participated in any strenuous activities since the accident?”

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meg-is-a-nut:

“Fuck if I know…?” She paused to think. “A… week and a half?” He began to do what Meg saw as no more than lecture her. She simply rolled her eyes and shrugged. “Alright, Doc.” If there was one thing that Megumi hated more than being lectured by her parents over the phone about missing class and drinking too much followed by being threatened to be cut off financially, it was being told what to do by people she barely knew. I’m not a god damn child. She thought. Actually, she was quite a child– from her crude jokes to the clothes on her back. In fact, she was wearing a children’s skirt right then and there. 

“So… how long can I not drink, ‘coz I’m throwing a party for everyone in my apartment building in a couple weeks and I promised myself I’d win beer pong and drink the leftovers while doing a celebratory dance.” She meant business. “Speaking of, you should come, man. I’ve got a sick DJ coming, there’s gonna be a fog machine and I’m changing all the light bulbs to colored ones, and this dude I met named David gave me a ton of food from his job yesterday, so I’m hoping he like, brings more on the day of. It’s gonna’ be sick. More sick than I am right now!”

Her crude language came as a slight shock to the young man, because he was used to people addressing him with more respect. “Hmmm,” he hummed contemplatively as she answered his question, then sighed as she brought up the drinking issue. “Well, that depends on my findings.” John was trying to keep his lid on, not to explode on this woman who he was finding to be quite irritating. “Have you had any mucus, phlegm? If so, what color?” he asked her, scribbling down the things she’d told him on his sheet of paper. 

His eyes flicked up to meet hers at the offer to join in on her party, “I’m not much of a party-goer.” Actually, to others, he must have seemed like he had some sort of stick up his ass at all times. It wasn’t that, though, it was simply that his definition of party was much different than most others’. John backed his swivel chair up to the counter, where he placed his clipboard down and opened a container, pulling out a tongue depressor. He stood and made his way back over to Meg, “Open your mouth wide.” He placed the depressor on her tongue and pressed down, peering into the back of her throat. 

After a moment’s examination, John took the depressor back out and stepped back, “Nothing appears out of the ordinary. You may just a have a cold, for which I’d say get plenty of fluids- non-alcoholic fluids, and rest. And buy yourself a bottle of Mucinex on the way home. You may just be feeling better in time for your blow-out.”

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tfweli:

Elijah sighed and shrugged. “It’s fantastic when my patients lie about their general practitioner.” He bowed his head and waved. “Thanks for the help, mate, sorry for the trouble.”

“Makes you wonder what they’re hiding,” the man commented with the raise of a brow. He handed Elijah the papers back, then tilted his head, “C’est la vie, my friend. If you ever need anything, my door are wide open.”

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“I don’t quite understand why catcalling is a thing I’ve never looked at a guy that yelled ‘yo sweet tits’ and thought ’that’s the person I want to spend the rest of my life with.’ Has it ever actually worked?

“Well the compliment is correct, but the delivery is all wrong.”

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greylormand:

Do you stare often? 

“People watching, dear. It’s a valuable and entertaining past-time.”

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lorenzadimatteo:

“Seriously, John? I just saw you the other day.”

The friendly demeanor slipped away quickly as he noticed who it was standing in his waiting room, “Ah, Lorenza. Unfortunately, a business doesn’t function well unless you keep up certain appearances.” He stepped closer to the woman, “What brings you here?”