inevitable

the case was rough. a gruelling two weeks away from home, chasing down a serial killer in utah. one of the victims looked like you in some ways, and that just made it much more difficult to sleep.

when he got back home, he was greeted with the sight of you wearing nothing but his black button up shirt, and he knew he couldn’t hold back any longer.

he had you bent over the kitchen counter, hips snapping against yours, stretching you out for the first time in way too long. you were gasping for air, nails clawing at his forearm that was wrapped securely around your waist.

he was still completely clothed, pants only pulled down enough to free himself, and you were craving any closeness you could get.

“luke, please.” you whined, fumbling with the buttons on his shirt that you wore. you needed it off, you needed to feel his skin against you.

since he wore a short sleeved shirt, his arm around your waist was one more point of contact you could have with him, but your clothes were blocking you from having it.

“it’s staying on.” he growled, grabbing your hand and pinning it down to the countertop.

that was the first thing he had said to you since he got home, letting only his body and lips tell you what he needed.

“i need to feel you, please!” you begged, lacing your fingers with his as he kept his hand on top of yours.

“need to feel me, huh? you sayin’ you can’t feel me?” he gave you a particularly harsh thrust and you choked out a moan, nails digging harder into his arm.

“no! no! i feel you, i feel you!” you cried out, letting him push all his weight into you, taking you rougher and faster.

you could feel him in your stomach.

he took your hand that was on his arm, bringing it down to press it against the bulge in your lower tummy, a whimper passing your lips when you felt him move inside you so deeply.

“i’m right there baby, feel me now?” his teeth sunk into your neck, marking you with dark bruises he couldn’t wait to admire.

he was fucking you so hard, you could feel the countertop digging into your waist and your ribs. it was sure to bruise and you loved it.

he needed this and you needed it just as much.

“i feel you. oh god, i feel you! fuck! you’re so deep!” tears rolled down your cheeks, his pace faltering for a second.

“feels so good, don’t stop.” you moved your hand that was still pinned on the counter from underneath his to give his wrist a reassuring squeeze.

“shit, cariño, so fuckin’ tight. you’re made for me, yeah?” he grunted, lips leaving sloppy kisses across your neck.

“yours…i’m yours.” you hummed, eyes rolling back, feeling him take you over the edge.

you clenched around him hard, nearly sobbing at how hard you came.

“that’s it, baby. doing so good for me, but i’m not done yet.” he smiled against your neck.

you nodded weakly, shutting your eyes as he continued to fuck you harder, but this time with slower, calculated thrusts that he knew would send you over the edge all over again.

“you knew what you were doing, wearing my fucking shirt when i got home. you have any idea how fucking hot you are in my clothes?” he asked lowly, right in your ear.

“just missed you so much.” you gasped when he wrapped his hand around your throat, not too tight but tight enough to make your head fuzzy.

“missed you too, baby.” his eyes softened, leaning over you to press a kiss to your lips.

“i love you, luke.” you babbled, brain completely numb from the pleasure coursing through your veins.

“i love you.” he replied, kissing you again.

each thrust was dedicated to making you fall apart again, his eyes locked on yours.

you shuddered, knees going weak and relying on him to keep you steady.

of course, he’d never let you down. he’d never let you fall.

every slow drag of his cock against your fluttering walls drove you mad.

“can i show you, baby? can i show you how much i love you?” he asked softly, hands running up your sides under the shirt.

“please.”

he pulled out, earning a pout from you. he quickly made it up to you when he turned you around and lifted you into his arms, placing you on the edge of the counter.

he dropped to his knees, throwing your legs over his shoulder as he lapped at your soaked pussy, fucking you with his tongue.

your fingers tangled in his soft dark curls, soft pants and moans leaving your parted lips as he quickly made you come.

“how the hell do you make me feel so good?” it was a rhetorical question but he was willing to answer.

“it’s all i care about, all i’ll ever care about.” he answered honestly, lips pressing against your inner thigh as he looked up at you from between your legs.

“get back up here and fuck me.”

he smiled at your bossiness, obliging your demand.

he got to his feet, positioning himself at your entrance and easily sliding inside.

he actually whimpered when he bottomed out, eyes glancing down to where you connected.

“holy shit.” you wrapped your arms around his neck,

he leaned down, kissing a trail of hot kisses up your neck until he reached your ear.

“as perfect as you look in my shirt, i get why you wanted it off.” he admitted, working the buttons of the shirt open and letting it fall off your body.

this angle was much deeper and you were hypnotized by the way he slid in and out of you. he pulled his shirt over his head, dropping it to the floor.

you pounced at the chance when his bare skin was right there in front of you. it was your turn to mark him up, leaving dark love bites all over his chest, up his neck, panting against his skin hungrily.

“it’s so pretty, isn’t it baby? look how perfect i fit inside you, look how your little pussy takes me.” he was mesmerized, watching the way your thighs bounced each time he filled you to the hilt.

“please, baby…please come in me.” you tugged his earlobe between your teeth, a wicked smile appearing on his lips.

“s’that what you want, princesa? want me to fill you up? keep you stuffed full of me?” he used one hand to wrap around your thigh, the other laying gently on your stomach.

you nodded quickly and he felt you tightening around him once again.

he always knew just what to say.

“come for me, one more time. then i’ll give you what you want.” he said it so sweetly, you agreed immediately.

you buried your face in his shoulder as the orgasm hit you like a train, crying out into his shoulder.

“good girl, that’s my girl. thank you, sweetheart.” now he held both your thighs in his hands with a bruising grip.

heat rose to your cheeks at the praise, and he kissed you breathless. with only a few more thrusts, you felt him pulse inside you, then his warm seed filled you to the brim.

he groaned against your lips in an open mouthed kiss, pumping you completely full.

you grinned when he pulled out, watching as it dripped out of you slowly.

he plunged two thick fingers inside you, making you whine in overstimulation, but he needed to keep you full.

“feel free to rail me like that every time you get home.”

the team had been away for the past week, leaving little to no time for you and Luke.

it wasn’t all bad, you were sharing a room, but the constant pull of your jobs left no real time for either of you to start something intimate.

tonight though, the case was coming to a close and you both decided to spend the night together.

you had gone for a shower, washing away the grime and pain of the case, while Luke stayed on the bed.

he smirked up at you as you returned, his hands finding your hips with ease while your hands lay on his shoulders, stroking your thumbs back and forth.

“mm look at you”

Luke murmured, letting his hands slide up your sides until he was pulling on the tie that closed your robe.

his smirk widened as it fell open, revealing your body to his gaze while your left hand moved to his hair, brushing your fingers carefully through his curls.

“stop staring and do something”

slowly, his eyes flickered up to meet yours, his smirk still on his face, while a chill ran down your spine.

Luke had a way of making you feel everything all at once, even with something as simple as a smirk and a knowing look.

it was infuriating, but you couldn’t seem to let it be any other way.

carefully, Luke stood from his space on the bed, his eyes twinkling with mischief as he crashed his lips against yours.

a moan bubbled past your lips, the force of Luke’s kiss making you stumble before you caught yourself.

“missed this..”

you whispered between kisses, your arms moving around his neck while Luke squeezed appreciatively at your hips.

“it’s been too long, so i really need you to fuck me”

he chuckled softly against your lips, his eyes darkening as your hands moved down his body and towards his belt.

his thumb stroked across the flare of your hips as you started on working it open, returning his kiss with the same force and hunger that pulled a low groan from him.

but then there was a knock at the door.

Luke groaned in frustration, his hands falling away from your sides as he moved to answer the door.

Emily’s voice rang through the room, her enthusiasm apparent as Luke kept her at the door, despite her clear attempt to go over something.

“i’m not interrupting, am i?”

she asked, and you just knew the face Luke would’ve pulled at her question.

“we were about to order something in..”

you shook your head at Luke’s lie, but it didn’t stop the smile that pulled at your lips. you listened to their brief back and forth before the door closed over and Luke made his way back to you, an apologetic look on his face.

but you shook your head, holding your hands out to him with a soft smile.

“don’t apologize, this isn’t your fault”

he hummed, pulling your arms around his neck while leaning in to kiss you again, softer this time.

his hands moved to your hips, holding you against  him while you crossed your wrists at the back of his head, smiling against his lips.

“you lied to her”

you whispered once Luke broke the kiss, earning a huffed chuckle and a small shake of his head, before his lips were back on yours.

“had to get you alone..”

Luke trailed off while his fingers trailed across your sides, slowly moving back to the tie of your robe as his eyes darkened again.

when you met his eyes, a soft gasp slipped from your lips, followed by a nod that told Luke all he needed to know.

carefully, he got you down and onto the bed, your robe discarded and his hands holding your legs apart.

"looks like it's just us here.. privacy at last"

he murmured into your thigh, pressing a kiss to the skin there while a whine bubbled past your lips, a clear sign of the need coursing through your body.

his hands held the back of your knees, keeping your legs apart to make room for himself while your fingers made their way back into his hair.

you watched through hooded eyes as Luke admired your cunt, his eyes twinkling with a need that made your skin rush with heat.

“so pretty”

Luke complimented, using two of his fingers to spread your folds as he leaned in, licking a thick strip up your core just to hear you moan.

“let me take care of you”

he added, already moving his tongue to continue lapping at your wetness while a slew of moans slipped from your lips.

any words you might’ve had died on your tongue, the feeling of Luke between your legs all you could focus on.

each flick of Luke’s tongue was warm against you, easily creating a wet and messy sound between your thighs as he started to move like a man starved. 

it had been a long week since you and Luke last got into it like this, so the need was at an all time high for each other.

pleasure burst throughout your body instantly at the feeling of Luke’s tongue, strong enough to cut through you like a knife, and you knew you weren’t going to last long.

“oh fuck..”

you moaned out, fingers tightening in his curls as his nose bumped against your clit, adding to the pleasure each flick of his tongue left.

sparks lit up in your core, the coil winding tight in your core and your hips canting towards his face.

he continued to lick into you, over and over, as if he was trying to get every drop of your arousal in case he’d never get another taste.

“Luke..”

you mewled, your fingers tangled in his hair as he lapped at your cunt like a man starved, working you closer to your peak.

both of his hands kept your thighs parted while pleasure jolted up your spine, causing another moan to tumble from your lips while pleasure flooded throughout your body like a tidal wave.

your head fell back into the bed, moans continuing to tumble freely from your lips as the wet sounds of his mouth grew louder.

it was lewd, each flick of his tongue eliciting another slick sound between your thighs, followed quickly by another string of moans.

the coil continued to twist inside you, heat blaring throughout your body and your hips rocking into every flick of Luke’s tongue to chase the feeling.

“baby.. feels so good”

he groaned into your cunt at your moans, continuing his exploration and allowing the sound of his groans and grunts to vibrate against your sensitive skin.

his beard scratched at your inner thighs, earning another buck of your hips as you whined.

“Luke..”

your whine fell on deaf ears, however.

Luke was too focused on making you feel good, unable and unwilling to let his attention stray away from you too long to do anything else.

he shifted between your legs, his left hand holding the underside of your knee to push your leg up and to the side, allowing him more room between your legs.

but then he closed his lips around your clit, sucking softly on the bud and earning a choked out moan of his name in response.

“oh Luke!”

your eyes rolled back into your head at the pure bliss surging through you, his tongue moving in circles around your clit.

the coil in your core was wound impossibly tight, each flick of his tongue allowing him to lap up more and more of your arousal, while the taste of you exploded across his taste buds.

“taste so good”

he murmured into your cunt before he broke into another groan, the sound vibrating into your core and sending bliss to all your nerve endings.

it was all growing too much, your peak already dancing within arms reach.

“baby.. i’m close”

you warned, but it didn’t stop Luke’s ministrations.

the familiar build continued to grow, winding closer and closer to exploding with every flick of his tongue.

when Luke sucked harshly on your clit, your hips ground down onto his face and your back arched off of the bed.

everything was becoming overwhelming, your hips had started to jerk from the pleasure while your peak drew closer.

“Luke, i can’t..”

he dragged the flat of his tongue through your folds, smirking to himself as your fingers tightened in his curls to hold him in place.

each drag of his tongue had you drawing closer and closer, the telltale tingle at the base of your spine causing another whine to fall from your lips before you rocked against his face again.

it only took another flick of his tongue to send you over the edge with a lewd moan, easily cresting over into your orgasm.

“that’s my girl, there we go”

Luke murmured, his hands continuing to hold you in place as your legs began to shake with the force of your orgasm and the pure euphoric feeling coursing through your body.

a sweet relief washed over you as his name tumbled from your lips again while his tongue continued to lap at your cunt, helping work you through your high.

after a long minute, Luke finally let up.

he sat up on his knees between your legs, a satisfied smirk on his face as you shook your head at him, unable to help the blissed out smile on your face.

his body leaned over yours, his lips pressing softly to yours in a soft kiss and elicitng another moan from you at the taste of yourself on his tongue.

“you’re so good for me”

you hummed at his words, moving your hands down his body to the waistband of his sweatpants before you slowly inched them down enough to free his cock.

Luke chuckled, taking the hint and kicking off his sweatpants the rest of the way. he settled between your legs, his left hand on the bed next to your head and his right holding his cock.

he was positioned at your entrance, his eyes on yours in a search of any doubt or hesitation.

“is this okay? tell me if that changes, alright?"

at his question, you could only nod in response.

Luke hummed, his body shifting against yours as he slowly pushed into your wet warmth with a low groan.

he stayed like that for a minute, allowing you to adjust to the feeling of him after your week apart, but it felt like a surge of something so homely.

you finally had Luke back.

Everyone bursts into more laughter.

"Wait, what?"

"What kind?"

She's clutching at her sides as she answers.

"All kinds! Movies, books, TV shows. If it has corsets and sex, I'm in."

Your cheeks are aching from smiling so hard. You're not sure who first raised the initial question, but it's really allowed you to get to know each other a little bit deeper.

"Okay, enough about me. Simmons, what's your vice?"

"I have six kids. I don't have time for a vice."

He sounds serious, but he's grinning as he says it.

"I think the six kids are a result of an old vice."

The words leave your mouth before you can stop them, several glasses of wine almost obliterating your verbal filter. Your team howl with laughter.

"No comment," Matt wheezes, wiping tears from his eyes. "Golfing is a safer option now. No risk of unplanned surprises."

"I had to change mine after kids, too," JJ chimes in. "I used to smoke cigarettes after bad cases, but I can't anymore. What kinda mom would I be if I lectured the boys about the dangers of nicotine, and then got caught chain smoking in the backyard?"

"A cool one," you shrug, yelping when she jokingly punches you in the arm.

"What about you, hotshot?" she asks, the whole team turning their attention to you. "What's your vice?"

You desperately avoid any eye contact, trying to play it cool. You just know Luke has that glint in his eye as he looks at you pointedly.

✵  ✵    ·　 ✵ 　　 *  · ✵

"Oh, fuck," you groan, fingers threading into the dark curls of his hair.

"Shhh, honey," he murmurs, lifting his head from between your legs to look up at you. "You and I both know how much trouble we'll be in if we get caught."

He dives back in, tongue gliding and flicking all the spots that make you keen. You slap one hand over your mouth, the other grappling to hold onto the leather beneath you.

"Bet you'd like that, wouldn't you?" he taunts, condescension dripping from his tone. "The thrill turns you on, doesn't it, baby? The risk of getting caught only makes you hotter."

You whine against your palm, bucking your hips to urge him to keep going.

"What do you want, princesa? Tell me what you want and I'll give it to you."

He loves this. Loves hearing you beg. Loves having you relinquish complete control and let him take care of you. Loves that he can turn you, the most independent, headstrong woman he knows, into a whining, needy mess.

"Fingers," you croak out. "Make me come, Luke, please."

He grins up at you like the cat who got the cream, self satisfied smirk never leaving his lips.

"Okay, baby," he soothes. "Since you asked so pretty."

He slides two fingers into you with embarrassing ease, crooking them in the way he knows you like.

"Oh, sweet girl, what would the team think? Huh? What do you think they'd say if they saw you like this, letting me finger fuck you in the backseat of my car in the parking garage?"

He's muttering lowly, under his breath, but you hear him clear as day. He loves to patronise you, tease you, get under your skin. In everyday life, he treats you with the utmost respect. In bed, not so much. You love it.

"Couldn't even wait until we got home. Poor baby, just had to take the edge off."

His eyes meet yours, like a magnetic force. His gaze is so dark, it has you squirming in place.

"It was the shirt," you choke out. "Fucking shirt."

"Hmm?" he hums against you, the vibrations pulling you closer to the edge.

"Your shirt," you moan as his thumb finds your clit. "Makes your arms look so, fuck, so big."

Oh, you shouldn't have said that. You can practically see his ego inflating.

"I'll let you wear it tomorrow morning, if you want. If you can still walk by then, that is."

You're right on the precipice, orgasm almost within reach. If he keeps talking to you like this, you'll be at the finish line in no time.

"Oh, I've got a better idea. Why don't I fuck you in it?"

The idea makes your head spin, sending you straight into your climax. Sharp white heat licks up your spine, curling your toes and arching your back. Your grip tightens in his hair and he groans, low and honeyed.

"That's it, baby," he's murmuring. "Ride it out. Good girl."

You finally relax, melting into the leather seats. Luke crawls from his position to lean over you, resting his body onto yours. He kisses you gently at first, then dirtier as you come back to yourself.

"My place or yours?" he whispers against your lips.

"Yours is closer."

"Mine it is."

✵  ✵    ·　 ✵ 　　 *  · ✵

"Hello? Earth to Hotshot?"

JJ nudges you playfully, grinning at you from ear to ear.

"What you thinking about?"

"Nothing," you stutter, clearing your throat. "Nothing at all."

You make the mistake of lifting your gaze from your lap. There, staring at you from across the table, is Luke Alvez. You almost wish you could slap that smug smirk off of his face.

"Come on, girl!" Tara hollers.

"Everyone has a vice," Spencer begins. "You have to. Especially in our line of work. We have to have some kind of outlet. Some sort of release."

Release. You almost choke on your wine, patting yourself on the chest.

"Yeah, no. I, uh, I like British reality TV. I guess that's mine."

The team laugh, everyone teasing you relentlessly. You risk a glance at Luke, and regret it immediately. He runs his tongue over his bottom lip and chuckles, knowing look in his eye. You're petrified for a moment that he can read your mind.

"Okay then Spence. Your turn," you prompt, desperate to take the attention off yourself.

Spencer starts rambling about quantum physics, and you breathe a sigh of relief.

Relief.

✵  ✵    ·　 ✵ 　　 *  · ✵

"Yeah, this is what you needed, isn't it baby?"

You try to respond, but Luke's huge hands wrapped around your throat are making it a little difficult.

"My poor sweet girl, just needed some relief huh? You sick of being in charge all the time? You want me to take care of you?"

His tone is low and melted, the timbre of it settling into your bones. All you can do is whine and nod your head in response.

His hips repeatedly snap into yours, his body melded to you. He's completely smothering you with his weight, but you don't mind. You like the closeness.

You lean up to kiss him, allowing him to slip his tongue into your mouth. He's swallowing your moans, leaning his head forward to rest against yours.

"Fuck, you sound so pretty," he groans. "You gonna come for me, mama? Give me what I want?"

"Yes," you breathe. "Yes. Please, baby. Please."

"Who am I to deny you when you beg so fucking sweet?"

The hand that's not around your throat snakes between your sweat slicked bodies to rub circles on your clit, throwing you over the edge.

Your back arches, hips writhing on Luke's soft cotton sheets. You're squeezing him so tight he's seeing stars.

"Oh fuck baby, oh fuck."

Luke goes boneless, dropping his head into the crook of your neck. He releases his grip on your throat and wraps both arms around you, pressing you together impossibly closer.

"We get better at this every time," he chuckles.

You smack him jokingly, before bursting into laughter. Soon, the two of you are crying happy tears, revelling in the afterglow.

✵  ✵    ·　 ✵ 　　 *  · ✵

"I'm gonna get a refill. Anyone need anything from the kitchen?"

You stand from your seat and make your way inside, taking note of the replies.

"I'll help you," Luke says, rising to join you. Neither of you see the way everyone at the table looks at each other knowingly.

You're barely through the door when you feel him against you, wrapping his arms around you from behind. He presses a kiss onto your shoulder, murmuring in your ear.

"I'm your vice, aren't I?"

You shake your head, breathing out a laugh.

"In your dreams, Alvez."

He nips at your neck before continuing.

"Admit it. I'm your dirty little bad habit that you just can't kick."

You turn in his arms to face him, running your fingers through his hair.

"Talk the talk all you want, Luke. You and I both know this works both ways."

Your quirk your brow at him, and he leans in and kisses you chastely.

"Old habits die hard, huh?" he grins.

"Wouldn't have it any other way," you smirk back.

Outside, the team decide they'll continue to let you both lie to them for a little while longer. It's more fun for everyone that way.

The moment your lunch break starts, Trinity yanks you into an on-call room, where Mel, Victoria, Samira, and Whitaker have all also been dragged during a rare moment during the day when you can all leave the floor at once. It’s dark inside and it feels suspiciously like a gathering of cult members. Ever since you found out the six of you lived in the same building (which, yes, half the staff lives in because it’s the cheapest spot close to the hospital), you’ve been a group, even now that Samira’s off living with her knight in shining scrubs.

Trinity looks between you seriously, her phone screen illuminating her face from below like a horror movie villain about to give you the rules for a torture game. She announces seriously, “Guys, I have crucial intel.”

“Alright, get on with it,” Samira sighs. “Some of us have work to do and waiting in here has already taken up half my break.”

Trinity draws a deep breath and holds up her phone, showing off the screen in an arc to let everyone get a good look. “Dennis’ and my other roommate sent us these screenshots last night. I guess Robby has his settings so nobody who has his number can see it, but she did.”

You huddle around the phone as she swipes through a series of pictures, each one of your attending (and your best friend), Robby. A Tinder profile. As her thumb swipes across the screen, all of you ask questions over each other: He owns a motorcycle? And a real suit? Oh my god, is he shirtless there? Wait, he plays basketball?

While they gawk and laugh, you’re stuck on the bio that makes you smile: I’m a doctor. Not in a hot way. In an ‘I’m in therapy and you probably should be too if you want to date me’ way. Soft spot for puppies, babies, and good beer. My best friend forced me to make this when he got a girlfriend so that I wouldn’t be a third wheel. Guess I’m looking for my fourth wheel. Someone to stabilize me.

Victoria’s been standing there slack-jawed for the longest. As the baby of the group, she’s always surprised by everything. “I just can’t believe Dr. Robby is on dating apps.”

Trying not to get pathetically jealous at the idea, you reason, “I mean, he’s single. He’s attractive.”

Samira snickers, “Don’t they have an age limit on that app to protect seniors or something?”

You roll your eyes. “He’s not that old.”

“And you’re one to talk,” Dennis points out. “Dr. Abbot isn’t exactly young.”

“He’s a decade younger than Robby,” she replies. “Robby’s so old I didn’t think he could even download an app without help. He asked me to convert something to a PDF for him the other day. I find the idea that he’d meet someone from an app…charming. The way a cat trapped in a tree is cute.”

Mel crosses her arms over her chest and physically turns away from Trinity’s phone. She huffs out, “Guys, this is so inappropriate.”

Trinity glares. “You’re no fun.”

“That’s sort of my whole thing,” she cuts back. Then she nudges you and asks for backup, “C’mon, you know this is wrong.”

But you’re way too intrigued to agree with your roommate. You shrug and say, “It’s a public profile. Someone was bound to find it eventually, right?”

Mel scoffs and shakes her head. “Et tu?”

Trinity groans and makes Mel turn back around with a pointed look. She goes on, “Guys, the intel isn’t that he has a Tinder.” She zooms in on the picture of him with Dr. Abbot on a basketball court, Robby jumping to dunk the ball. You want to lick the sweat from his hairy chest. Trinity shoves her finger at the screen. “Look at this hog he’s packing. Dr. Robby has a giant dick.”

You take a closer look at the outline visible in his slinky athletic shorts. No way. You scoff and shake your head; the idea that a human man could have a dick that big seems outright ridiculous. In years of practicing medicine and being a sexually active adult, you’ve never seen one that would compare. So you shrug your shoulders up and awkwardly rush out, “That could be a water bottle or something.”

Victoria, wide eyes locked to the screen, chimes in, “Or- or just a shadow. The lighting.”

“Yeah, sure, or a massive fucking cock.”

Dennis, the reddest of everyone (he once told you about an absolutely mortifying sex dream he had about topping Robby), hisses, “Trinity, he’s our boss!”

“So?”

You step in, too. “So what are we even supposed to do with this information?”

“Well we all know what you’re going to do with it,” she says to you with a knowing, wicked grin. “You’re going to fantasize about how it would feel to take such a-”

“Trinity!” You slap your hand over her mouth. “If you bring up my crush on him one more time, I’m going to start paging you on every single bowel disimpaction that comes into the ER for the next six months. I’m working on getting over it!”

“Here’s what I’m proposing,” Trinity says seriously. She’s such a ringleader it’s not even funny. This is her circus and the rest of you are definitely her monkeys. “I say we all put in some money and the first person to get definitive proof that Dr. Robby’s packing gets the whole pool.”

“Absolutely not,” Mel says right away. She’s so serious that she shoves out of the on-call room and back to work. She never wants to play in the circus.

The rest of you stay put, though. Dennis mutters, “How much money?”

“This is high stakes,” Samira reasons. “A hundred each.”

“You’re only saying that because you have the best chances,” Victoria cuts in. “Dr. Abbot probably sees his dick every time they go to the gym together.”

“No outside interference,” Trinity adds immediately. “I like the sound of $100 each. That’s a pool of $500. Sounds pretty fair for the task at hand.”

Dennis wrinkles his eyebrows. “What if nobody does it?”

“Then we all lose out on $500.”

To a group of poor twenty-somethings, that’s pretty damn convincing.

“I’m definitely in,” Samira starts. If Trinity is the ringleader, Mohan’s the strongman. “Even if Jack can’t help, I’m smarter than the rest of you.”

Dennis punches her on the arm; he’s the group’s contortionist, always able to bend himself into ridiculous situations somehow. “Me too. I’m the only one with access to the men’s showers.”

You argue, “Then you should put up $150. That’s an unfair home field advantage.”

There’s a murmur of agreement from the other girls that makes Whitaker balk.

“Okay, yeah, I may also have a penis, but I have the distinct disadvantage of being scared shitless of Robby, unlike Samira and Santos.” Then he shoves an accusatory finger in your direction. “If anything, you have an advantage because Robby already wants to fuck you.”

You shove him in the chest. “He does not!”

“Ow, first of all.” He shakes his head and says, “How about we go no-holds-barred? Samira can use Abbot, I can use my Y chromosome, you can use your powers of seduction. Whatever.”

Victoria pouts. She’s the tightrope walker, always trying to balance the line of appropriate and otherwise. “And what the hell am I supposed to do?”

“Psychological warfare,” Trinity suggests. “That’s what I’m planning.”

Samira offers, “Maybe just beg?”

“Jesus, fine,” Victoria sighs. “I’m in, I guess.”

All eyes turn in your direction. “How about you, Mrs. Robinavitch?”

And your role in this circus of idiot doctors? Well, you’re just the clown who’s been nursing a big fat crush on her attending for two years. The idea of seeing Dr. Robby naked is too appealing for you to resist. So you present your hand to the center of the circle and sigh, “I’m in.”

The bet gets out of hand right away, not that this sort of thing could ever be under control. The six of you – Mel’s invited mostly because she’s your roommate and already knows, though she’s made her disapproval patently clear – meet for beers after a long shift the following Friday. Samira clears her throat and breaks the silence, “Do any of you sure-to-be losers have anything to announce to the group?”

Trinity pulls out her phone and dramatically sighs. “Well, I really thought I had it. I made a Tinder profile of a very respectable, almost-age-appropriate lady and matched with him. Paid for the goddamn Super Like and everything.”

Victoria’s jaw detaches from her maxilla. “You catfished him?”

Trinity looks honestly offended. “Only a little!”

Dennis gawks. “Whose pictures did you use?”

“My mom’s.”

“Seriously?!” Even Samira’s in disbelief over that. “Did you at least tell her?”

“It’s not like she’ll ever find out,” Trinity reasons. “Her and my dad have been together since the Dark Ages. They’d never be on Tinder. And I used a fake name. She’s just the prettiest woman over 40 I know.”

“You’re fucked up for that,” Dennis says with an admonishing shake of his head. Then he sips his beer and presses, “So how did it go between Robby and your not mom? No luck?”

“Obvioulsy not,” she explains. “He told me in, like, the third message that he’s looking for something serious and would only have sex with someone he loves. Like, apropos of nothing. Old people are weird; I don’t get him at all.”

You swallow hard. “That’s sweet, though.”

She scrunches her nose. “Is it?”

Victoria giggles, about one cocktail too deep, “Would you rather find out our boss is a total man whore?”

“Actually, yeah,” Trinity laughs. “It’s kind of sad someone his age is still looking to settle down.”

“Hey,” you stop her, “that’s actually mean, Trin. Robby’s a good man and he deserves to be happy.”

“Sorry, forgot it’s rude to insult someone’s boyfriend right in front of them.”

Samira shakes her head and tuts then, feeling merciful on your behalf, “Poor showing, Santos. I expected better from our leader.”

“Give me another week.”

“Not if I beat you to it,” she replies with a grin. Then she nudges you with her elbow and says, “C’mon, Jack wants us to go to dinner with Robby.”

It’s not an unusual invitation – the four of you get dinner a few times a month – but tonight it catches the attention of everyone else. 

Dennis protests, only half joking, “Woah, woah, you can’t bring her if it’s going to turn into an orgy thing where she gets a quick shot at the win.”

As your cheeks turn pink, you argue, “I thought it was a no-holds-barred game, Whitaker. Your idea, remember?”

Samira gives you a conspiratorial look. “What do you say, babe, wanna go ask our boys to drop their pants in the middle of the restaurant?”

Pretending not to be as embarrassed as you are, you giggle, “I wouldn’t be opposed.”

“This is so unfair,” Dennis pouts.

“Start following him into the shower, then.” Samira smiles and links her arm with yours as you get ready to walk away. “Calm down; she’s always our go-to fourth wheel. No special advantage tonight.”

“Tonight, he did that thing where he touched my lower back when he opened the door for me,” you bemoan to Mel late that night, both sitting on her bed as you stare at your laptops. “Have you ever noticed how big his hands are?”

“Can’t say I have.”

You shut your laptop dramatically. “Seriously, how am I supposed to recover from that?”

Mel shrugs like she always does. “Ask him out.”

“I can’t. He’s my boss.”

“He’s probably waiting for you to do it,” she reasons. “It would be inappropriate for him to ask you, but not necessarily the other way around. Provided you aren’t asking in exchange for any benefits in the workplace.” Then she gives you a little mischievous grin that only you and Langon are ever privy to. “Benefits besides making out in on-call rooms, of course.”

The next series of attempts comes from Samira. She decides to use her one trump card, enlisting Jack’s help. He finds the whole thing hysterical because he’s a feral child just like his girlfriend, so he agrees. Trinity insists on adding a caveat to the rules: The picture has to be on the better’s phone, taken by the better, explicitly ruling out Jack’s involvement beyond being a co-conspirator. Samira agrees and insists it’ll be no problem.

So, for two weeks, every time Robby and Jack hang out, Samira comes up with excuses to tag along and shoot her shots. She goes to the gym with them and ‘accidentally’ walks into the men’s locker room on two separate occasions, both times catching Robby after the shower but with his towel already on.

On a Thursday night all have off, you’re unfortunate enough to witness one of the efforts firsthand. Samira invited you over to watch the Penguins game with her and Robby (since the two of you hate sports and she’ll be bored out of her mind otherwise).

After three beers, Robby excuses himself to the bathroom. Only fifteen seconds later, Samira stands up, gives a salute to you both, and whispers, “Wish me luck.”

Jack grins like the dumbass he is. “Good luck, honey.”

As she walks away, you shake your head and turn to him. “It doesn’t bother you that your girlfriend is obsessed with taking a picture of your best friend’s dick?”

“Nope,” he replies confidently. There’s a cool, clear ‘she knows what she has at home’ energy to the reply. Then he puts on a meddling smirk and akss, “Does it bother you that she’s going to see Robby’s dick before you get to when she wins?”

“Jack!” You toss a pillow at him hard, causing him to spill his beer slightly as he laughs. “Y’know, it’s hard enough dealing with the teasing from the other residents. I don’t need it from you.”

“Hey, I have to listen to Robby going on and on about you all the time; it’s not easy for me, either.”

Your eyes widen into planets, but before you can ask the million clarifying questions you need to, Samira’s back, wearing a disappointed grimace. Looking solemn, she glances between you and Jack and shakes her head. “No dice.”

She tucks under Jack’s arm and he kisses her forehead. “You’ll get him next time, slugger.”

Robby emerges from the bathroom two minutes later with his face tomato red, unable to look Samira in the eyes as he takes his spot next to you once more. He mutters, “I miss anything important?”

“I wouldn’t know,” you reply honestly. Pitying his blush, you touch his thigh and ask, “Can I get you another beer?”

“Please.”

Trinity shakes her head in disappointment once Samira recounts her latest attempt in a line of failures. The three of you and Javadi are at the nurse’s station during shift change, making sure charts are in order as the night shift begins to filter in. Trinity sighs, “Maybe I should just pants him. Say it’s a prank or something.”

You snicker, “That would definitely get you sent straight to HR.”

Victoria puts her head in her hands; she hasn’t even come up with a plan yet and it’s getting to her. “This whole thing is going to get us all sent to HR.”

“Not if you never try anything,” Trinity replies.

Victoria glares. “You’re just trying to get me to back down so you get the money.”

Trinity raises her hands and laughs. “Guilty.”

Out of the corner of your eye, Robby’s tugging off his trauma gown with a frown on his lips. He’s splatterned in blood, enough that it’s gone between his mask and gloves and gown. He’ll need a shower. From across the ED, the four of you watch as Dennis rushes through a patient handover and hustles down the hall. Shooting a knowing look over his shoulder at the four of you, Dennis follows Robby into the showers.

You whisper, “Oh, god.”

“I’m gonna miss the little guy,” Trinity says seriously, shaking her head, “especially his share of the rent.”

Victoria sighs, “He made the best coffee.”

When you’re all finished and ready to leave, you and the other girls wait for Dennis by the Pitt’s doors, trying to be inconspicuous as you await his status report.

Dennis emerges, walking fast, expecting you all to meet his brisk pace. You have to practically jog to keep up until you’re a block from the hospital, well out of ear shot of anyone else. Finally, he stops abruptly and swings around to scan his periphery. His eyes are trained on his shoes. He hisses, “Rumor confirmed. Huge.”

Your cheeks burn; blush is becoming a constant state for you thanks to this stupid bet. Trinity’s mouth falls open and she shoves his shoulder hard. “Show us!”

“I didn’t get a picture.”

The whole group groans in disappointment (besides Mel, who sounds relieved). Victoria puts her hand on her hips. “Then you didn’t confirm anything. You could be lying.”

“No way I went through that mortification for nothing. I saw it.”

“Doesn’t count, Dennis,” Trinity replies with an unsympathetic shrug. “We’re talking about $500 here. Hard proof you can share with the class or nothing.”

He frowns and offers, “I can tell you that it’s the size of my goddamn forearm and he has a birthmark the size of a quarter on his hip; that doesn’t count for anything?”

Samira claps him on the back and suppresses her laugh. “You’ll have to try again, Whitaker.”

You aren’t really planning on participating. No matter how much you get annoyed at the amount of crap you get for it, you really do like Robby. In fact, it’s a lot past ‘like.’ It’s love. He’s the person you go to for advice, for jokes, for reassurance. For silence. He’s the first person you text in the morning and the last at night. You don’t know exactly how or when it happened, but you gradually went from ‘Robby’s favorite resident’ to ‘Robby’s favorite person’ over the last few years. And that relationship, whatever it is, matters a hell of a lot to you. You don’t want to damage it, even over that much money.

And then your bank account goes into the negative.

You’d run the numbers wrong on your budget for the month, a handful of bills come through at once, and suddenly you’re staring back at a deficit of more than a hundred dollars. All of a sudden, the $500 your stupid-ass friends have been dangling like a carrot in front of your nose has some real appeal.

You know that, for you, there’s really only one option. You could never, in a million years, get away with any of the sneakiness the rest of them are trying. And, yeah, sure, maybe you could go for seduction the way that everyone is prodding for you to. But you’re way too ashamed to do that for a whole host of reasons.

All you can possibly do is beg.

So you spend the whole day screwing up your courage to nut up and ask. You can’t even look at Robby while you work, terrified of the possible outcomes that could roll out in front of you. Of course, there’s the obvious: A visit to HR, fired, tarred and feathered, stripped of your medical future. Most likely, he’ll be mortified and your friendship will be ruined. Possibly, he’ll be flustered and embarrassed and never speak to you again.

Then, worst of all, there’s the idea that this might start something between the two of you. Something you’ve been dancing around for a very, very long time. Something hot and true and real.

What the hell would you do then?

Robby notices. Because of course he notices. He leaves you alone at first, hoping you’ll just corner him and ask whatever it is you’re stewing on. Then he starts avoiding you, too, because he’s wracking his brain for what he must’ve done wrong for you to be like this. He’d made a joke about pandas that hadn’t landed yesterday, but that couldn’t be it. Could it? Maybe it was how he corrected you when you set that broken nose first thing this morning. He hadn’t had his coffee yet. No. You never made a thing about work stuff.

Finally, when he sees you slip into the locker room at the end of your shift, he can’t take it anymore. After a deep breath, he closes the space between you, touches your lower back, and leans in close. “Can we talk for a second?”

You jolt back from him and stare up into his eyes. Shit, you always forget how tall he is when he isn’t doing that thing where he shrinks down to make others more comfortable. “Um, yeah. Is- What’s, ah, what’s up, Robinavitch?”

Robby scowls. “‘Robinavitch’? I don’t think you’ve ever called me that before.”

“First time for everything.” You grimace, shifting from foot to foot, and snatch your backpack from your locker. “Can we, ah, go somewhere else?”

There are a ton of emotions flashing through his eyes. Concern, curiosity, nerves. But all he says is, “Yeah, of course.”

Robby leads you across the Pitt to his office, which is totally barren except for a stack of paperwork on the desk that he clearly has no intention of doing. He flips on the light, draws the blinds, and turns to you seriously. “Alright, sweetheart, what the hell is going on? You’ve been avoiding me all day.”

You stick close to the door and stare up at the ceiling tiles, wringing your hands. “Look. Okay. This is gonna be so horrifying, alright? So just…just don’t make fun of me too much. You can make fun of me a little, but not that much, because if you make too much of a thing of it I’m never gonna be able to look you in the eye again and-”

“Woah, hey, it’s alright.” Robby reaches out and touches your elbow, stepping closer to you until you look up at him. He cups your face with one of his agonizingly large hands and you’re so embarrassed it’s unbelievable. “Whatever it is, you can trust me.”

“God, please don’t be sincere,” you whine. “You can’t be sweet, sincere, cow-eyed, gorgeous Robby right now, okay? Because I’ll have to go jump off the roof if you look like you care about me when I’m about to say something as stupid as what I’m about to say.”

Carefully, he replies, “But I do care about you.”

“Okay. Fuck. Here goes.” You duck your head, lower your voice, and absolutely ramble out, “Trinity found your Tinder profile a few weeks ago and in one of the pictures it sort of looks like we can see the outline of your dick and she said it looked really big so then we all made a bet to see who could get a picture of it to prove that you’re, um, well-endowed, and we all put in a hundred dollars as a pool for the winner and I know- I know it’s so stupid and so, so wrong, but I could really use that kind of money but more importantly I definitely can’t afford to lose a hundred dollars right now because my bank account is overdrafted which is also mortifying in and of itself to tell you because you really shouldn’t be concerned with my financial wellbeing but the fact of the matter is that I-”

“Wait, wait,” he cuts you off, “you’re telling me that’s what’s been going on the past few weeks? My subordinates have been conspiring to see my dick?”

Reaching a new shade of effervescent pink as yet undiscovered by man, you squeak out, “Yes.”

And then he starts laughing. As you blush so hard that your entire body is burning, he absolutely cracks up – to the point that he’s hiccuping, tears falling, grabbing his stomach. Doubled over, Robby wheezes, “Christ, I was starting to worry I’d have to give Whitaker a talk about how nobody will judge him if he’s gay because he keeps ending up in the shower the same time as me and then running away when he realizes I’m naked. And I’ve been terrified that Jack and Mohan might be planning to invite me for a threesome the way she’s been loitering around me. Thank god.”

Shaky relief floods your body and you mutter. “That…wasn’t the reaction I was expecting.”

“What were you expecting?”

“I actually don’t know.”

After wiping an amused tear from his cheek, Robby reaches out his hand and commands, “Alright, slugger, give me your phone.”

Shocked out of your mind, you reach into your pocket and present it wordlessly. When you see that he’s going for his waistband, you turn around and cover your eyes like his dick might bite you.

Robby laughs again, this time at your obvious nerves. Not discomfort, though. Nerves. He chuckles, “You don’t get extra money for seeing it in person?”

Gnawing off your lower lip, you whimper, forgetting about the rules in the heat of the moment, “Nope.”

“I’m decent now.” When you turn back, he hands off the phone, screen still open. “Go get your money. Buy me a drink or something as my share of the spoils.”

Then you look at your phone. The syllable falls out before you can stop it. Shocked, breathless. Undeniably turned on. “Oh.”

You stare down at the picture with wide eyes. Your pupils dilate, your throat goes dry, and you can’t deny that heat and wetness collecting between your legs. Yeah, that’s a big fucking cock. Even soft, it has to be eight inches – but, like, real inches, not fantasy porn inches. And thick. Dennis may not have been far off base with his forearm comparison, given that he’s beanbole skinny. That whole ‘thick as a beer can’ thing you’ve read in tons of smut suddenly seems possible if Robby can get even thicker than that when he’s hard.

Jesus Christ.

Yeah, your dildo definitely doesn’t compare to the real thing, no matter how much you’ve fantasized about it while using your toys.

Robby’s amused voice is a little rougher when he asks, “What was that, sweetheart?”

Your head snaps upward hard enough that you hope your neck will break and kill you. “Please don’t tell me I just said that out loud.”

Robby cages you against the door between his forearms. “You definitely did.”

Your eyes fall to his lips. “Robby, I-”

He presses your bodies together. Your chest on his chest. Your thigh slotted between his. The smirk he’s wearing is so hot you start to melt underneath it. You might have a picture of his dick, but he’s holding all the cards. Shit, you can feel his cock through his scrubs against your thigh. He’s not even hard and you can feel how big he is. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. You’re done. You’re through. Stop the timer, pull the plug, call in the guard.

He takes your chin between his thumb and forefinger, forcing you to make eye contact. With you unable to speak, Robby teases, “You what? C’mon, gorgeous, use your words.”

All you can do is whimper.

The sound you make is downright pathetic, but it only encourages Robby. His breath brushes your lips and it feels like he can see your heart beating in your neck. Then he presses his lips to the curve of your ear and murmurs, “God, I’m gonna have so much fun wrecking you.”

It takes you forty five seconds to breathe again. Finally, with Robby pulling back enough to allow you to think, you mutter, “Mel’s outside waiting for me to walk home with her.”

“Of course.” He pulls back the rest of the way, taking a deep breath. When he shakes his head, it’s almost in disbelief – and you realize he wants you. He presses a soft, knowing kiss to your forehead, strokes your cheek with his thumb, and says, “I’ll see you tomorrow, sweetheart.”

And he unlocks the door behind you with his arm still around you, the sound shaking you from the stupor of his presence.

After practically sprinting to the hospital exit, you find Mel waiting in your usual spot under an overgrown oak. Gripping her arm hard, you whisper, “I’ve got the picture.”

Her eyes pop out of her head. “What?! Seriously?”

“Yes.”

You start walking, harsh and fast, toward your neighborhood, needing to do something to get this crazy energy out of your body.

She hustles to keep up with your pace. “How?!”

“I told him the truth.”

She squeals like a gossipping cheerleader. “And he took his…manhood out for you?”

“I turned around. He took the picture.”

“Wow. He must really be into you.” Then, catching your elbow to slow your walking, she lowers her voice and asks, “Are you going to send it to everyone?”

“I- I’m not sure.” You roll your eyes and groan, “He was going to kiss me. After I told him. After he took the picture. He said- he basically said that he thinks about me, y’know, like that. So now sending it to the group chat feels like sending  – god dammit – it feels like sending my boyfriend’s nudes, okay? You were right.”

She gives a self-satisfied smirk. “I usually am.”

“But I really need that money, Mel. Like ‘won’t be able to pay my share of the rent’ need it.”

“Ask Dr. Robby for it.” She needles with a cute grin, “Clearly he’ll do anything for you.” At the entrance to your building, she pauses. “Seriously, though, you shouldn’t.”

“He told me I could.”

“Still.”

“I have to think about it.”

“Okay, I guess.”

The six of you sit side-by-side like kids in the principal’s office, cramped into the small office high up in the hospital’s tower. There’s an HR rep across the desk. Robby and Jack are standing behind her, trying really hard not to laugh at your dejected expressions. You can’t blame Mel for snitching about the bet, not when you’d ended up mortified and crying and confused in her arms after the whatever the hell that was with Robby last night. The moment you’d reached your apartment, it all washed over you and turned into a full breakdown of ‘what the fuck.’

When the rep finishes going through what feels like a prosecutorial rundown of charges, she asks over her shoulder, “Dr. Robinavitch, do you feel safe continuing to work with them?”

He outright laughs, rubbing the back of his neck. To him, this whole thing is a ridiculous inconvenience. “Yes. God knows I’ve participated in my fair share of similar betting pools downstairs.”

“I’m going to pretend you didn’t say that,” she groans, already having nightmares about an avalanche of paperwork. She turns back to look at the rest of you. “Doctors, do you understand this was a massive violation of Dr. Robinavitch’s privacy?”

You nod solemnly, tears biting at your eyes. You’ve never been in trouble like this before and you absolutely hate the feeling of it in your gut. “I completely understand. I’m so, so sorry.”

Everyone echoes something similar – except Trinity.

The HR rep picks up on it. She presses, “Dr. Santos?”

It’s not her first time getting a talking to about a bet placed with colleagues. So she scoffs. “Yeah, I guess. But it’s not like Robby hasn’t done the same kind of shit.”

“Again, pretending we didn’t say that.” The rep pinches the bridge of her nose and shuts her eyes, breathing deeply for a minute. “Obviously, there will have to be consequences. We can’t send the message that this hospital doesn’t care about sexual harassment.”

Dr. Abbot lets out a harsh laugh. “Sexual harassment?”

She turns around and glares. “How else would you describe coworkers trying to take naked pictures of someone?”

“Well, yeah, I guess, but the ED always has this kind of thing happ-”

She cuts him off with a raised hand. “I am begging you all to stop talking before I have to call in Gloria to deal with this mess.”

That shuts everyone up.

For organizing the whole thing, Trinity gets placed on administrative leave without pay for a week, which she grumbles about before realizing she can go on an impromptu vacation. Because of the whole locker room incident, Dennis gets three days without pay. After the gym situation, Samira and Jack earn the same, which doesn’t really seem like a punishment considering they’re shacked up together. Since you at least asked for his consent, you have two days without pay. Because Victoria was too scared to even try, she gets sent home early with a warning. Mel, of course, gets off home free – although she gets put on night shift since they’ll be down Dr. Abbot.

“Are you mad at me?”

After shoving another handful of chocolate into your mouth, you shush Mel and turn up the volume on Bridget Jones Diary. “For the last time, no.”

Not convinced, she reminds you, “The only reason I told HR is because I didn’t want you showing your future boyfriend’s dick off to everyone in the hospital. You’d regret it.”

“I know, Mel,” you reply. It’s been 24 hours and you’ve had sufficient time to fight with her about the whole situation. “Seriously, I’m not mad. I get you, okay? I know you were trying to protect me in your own way. But I will be mad if you talk over the tarts and vicars party. We need to finish this before you leave for your shift.”

Accepting it (you know she’ll ask again soon), Mel reaches into your shared snack bowl and relents, “Okay, okay.”

Right when Colin Firth is about to announce that he likes Renée Zellweger just as she is, there’s a knock on your apartment door. You both ignore it, assuming it’s a package delivery, but a second knock a minute later takes you by surprise. Cutting a look over to Mel, you ask, “Did you get food or something?”

Her eyebrows knit together. “I figured you did.”

“I’ll check it,” you say, unfurling from the blankets and setting the snacks on the coffee table. In your knee-high socks, skimpy pajama shorts, and bralette, you joke, “Hopefully it’s the Mormons again and seeing my exposed skin will send them into a crisis of faith.”

Mel’s laughing until you open the door. Then she mutters something like ‘please Jesus no’ and looks like she’s debating taking the fire escape.

Robby looks really good in casual clothes. The jeans make his thighs look gigantic and, fuck, have his shoulders always been that goddamn broad? The white tee and – Jesus Christ, really? – leather jacket have him looking like a greaser, like one curl should be on his forehead, like you should be dropping to your knees and-

“Hey, sweetheart.”

You try to return your eye contact to an appropriate area and can’t find it in you. You’re obsessed with his arms. The way he’s leaning in your door frame, one hand above his head, elbow against the wood, has his trap bulging into his bicep and then down toward his veiny forearm and- Fuck. And his chest. His chest. Christ alive. His pecs. It’s only when you shut your eyes that you’re able to stammer out, “What are you- I’m, ah- Hi, Robby.”

He touches your cheek to get you to open your eyes. “I’d like it if you started calling me Michael.”

You try out the taste of that on your tongue. “Michael. Alright.”

He smiles at that. You love the way the corners of his eyes crinkle when he smiles. “Mind if I come in? Or did you want to keep ogling my tits for a while?”

You startle backwards a few steps and awkwardly gesture to the apartment. “Sorry, ah, yes, of course, come on in.”

When he sees Mel on the couch, he bristles. It’s comforting to see his ridiculous confidence waver for even a second. “You live with Dr. King.”

“I do.”

“Right. I knew that.” He puts on an almost-professional smile and waves, “Hi, Mel.”

She holds the blanket tight around her neck like she’s naked underneath. “Hello, Dr. Robinavitch.”

You give her a wide-eyed, impatient look at her to break her bewilderment and hiss, “Mel, don’t you need to get ready for your shift?”

She scrambles upward, still clinging to the blanket. “Yes, yeah, ah, right, yeah. I’ll, um, I’ll leave you two alone. Out here. And then I’ll be leaving. For the night. Yup.”

Mel disappears into her bedroom, careful to cover her body every step of the way as if Robby would be phased by seeing her in sweats and a sports bra. As if his attention isn’t fixed squarely on you.

Robby’s eyes skate over your body and you’re suddenly agonizingly aware of how little you’re wearing. He smirks again. Fuck that smirk. “I’m a big fan of your outfit.”

You cross your arms over your chest and then stretch your arms out to cover your stomach and then realize that makes your cleavage worse and cross your arms again. “I wasn’t expecting company.”

Robby takes your hands in his to stop you trying to hide from him. He kisses your hand and you’re swooning. You didn’t even know what that felt like until now. “I told you I’d see you, didn’t I?”

“That was before our collective scolding.”

“Well, I’m a man of my word.” His hand goes to your neck, holding the back of your head and pressing his thumb over your pulse at once. His hands are so big. Your brain is cloudy with desire and then he makes it so much worse by saying, “I said I wanted to wreck you. I’m here to make good on that.”

Mel emerges from her bedroom in her scrubs and fleece jacket, eyes trained on the floor and cheeks red. She rushes past Robby, who takes half a step back from you. Snatching her keys from the hall table, she announces in an unnaturally high pitch, “Well, it’s time for my shift. See you both, um, later!”

Then she’s gone – forty five minutes early. And there’s a locked door between you, Robby, and the rest of the world.

You’re frozen and Robby thinks it’s too adorable not to take advantage of. He jumps right in, stepping close to put his hands on the slope of your waist, thumb on ribcage and pinkies on your hips, and asks, “So, what’d all your friends think about my dick pic? Sufficiently impressed?”

You bite your lower lip, not yet able to look at him, and admit in a hushed tone, “I didn’t send it to them.”

Robby tilts your chin up and searches your face. “Why not?”

“You know already.”

He leans in close, breath mixing with yours, foreheads touching, and replies, “I need to hear you say it.”

Your lip twitches up into a smirk. He’s as desperate for you as you are for him. That feels fucking good. Finally, you make eye contact – and he’s shocked by the intensity in your expression. He’s never seen you looking possessive. Blood rushes to his cock. You press a hand to his chest, feeling his heartbeat drum against your palm, and say, “I didn’t send it because you’re mine, Michael. And I don’t want anyone else seeing what’s mine.”

The grin that spreads over Robby’s features is heart-fluttering, slow and certain and reaching the corners of his eyes. “I’m yours, huh?”

A tiny bit tentative, you whisper, “If you want me.”

Robby laughs, “If I want you?”

You’d expected your first kiss with Robby to be hungry. For your mutual, long-suffering want to explode over each other and turn into shedding clothes and falling into something frantic and intense, chasing pleasure and needing like nothing else.

But it’s not.

Robby takes a deep breath first, like he needs to gather up his courage to actually press his lips to yours despite all his bravado. Then he gives his head a little shake, laughs softly, and leans in. Both of you are gentle, even as you step up onto your toes to deepen it, even as his slightly shaking hand presses up into the curve of your spine to pull you up closer, even as you let out a breathy moan. It’s a caress more than a claim, an exploration more than an ecstasy, a feather more than a fire.

“I want you the way I want oxygen,” Robby breathes into the wide quiet space after your lips part. He kisses you so softly again and, like he might cry, whispers, “I love you.”

It’s your turn to smile – slow, disbelieving, adoring. “You love me? Really?”

He scoffs and holds you close, eye contact so sweet, “I love you so much I can’t think straight when you’re not on shift with me. I love you so much it makes me outright stupid. It would embarrass me, how much I love you, but it doesn’t because every once in a while you look at me like you might love me too and those moments make my whole life worth living.”

Knees weak and heart thudding, you whimper, “Michael.”

This time, the kiss is what you’d expected. You’re biting his lip and rucking up his shirt and shoving him toward your bedroom while he’s chuckling into your mouth at your obvious and unashamed desire, keeping you balanced, matching your energy as he opens up the door and lets himself be shoved back onto your bed. You situate yourself in his lap and practically rip his jacket off so you can finally sink your teeth into his ridiculously gorgeous arms.

Robby pulls in a sharp breath when you suck a harsh mark into the sensitive hollow of his collarbone, dragging the bruise up his neck with unrelenting suction. “Planning on getting me sent to HR our first day back as a couple?”

You pull off of him and catch your breath. Carefully, you run your thumb over his hand and reply, “Yeah, actually. I wanna do this right. HR, paperwork, the whole thing.”

Robby, smiling a tiny bit, asks, “You’re not worried about what everyone’s going to think?”

“Who cares?” You shrug and tell him, “All the other residents have been telling me to ask you out since we started. Even Jack wants us to get together. We’ve been working together while eye-fucking for two years; I don’t think much’ll change.”

“Except how close the administration’s gonna be watching you,” he replies. “I don’t want you to regret-”

You cross your arms over your chest and say, “Michael David Robinavitch, if you’re seriously interrupting our first time together to talk about the boring logistical details of our relationship, I’m going to break up with you.”

“Right, priorities,” he agrees, hands travelling up to your bralette. “Let’s focus on getting you naked.”

“That’s more like it, cap.”

“First, though,” he says softly, pleading, “I want you to say it back.”

It’s as easy as a heartbeat. You kiss him again and murmur against his lips, “I love you.” You drag your bralette up and over your body, leaving you bare-chested and blushing. As Michael’s black eyes devour the sight, you repeat, “I love you.” Then you slip off his lap, lay back on the bed, and coax him to come with, caging you between his strong arms. Before he can descend and devour, you tilt your face upward, kiss him gently, and say one more time, “I love you.”

Robby shoves his hand into your pajama shorts with no hesitation or pretense, wanting to feel you so bad he doesn’t even bother taking the clothes off first. As his fingers part your lips, dragging slickness up to your clit, he groans delightedly, “Fuck, you’re soaked.”

With a soft moan, you explain, “I’ve wanted you for so long.”

You shimmy to push your shorts off, kicking them away. Robby roughly shoves your legs apart right away. He’s reluctant to remove his fingers, but he’s devastatingly hungry for your pussy on his tongue. He moves to the end of your bed and, just to make you shriek out a laugh, grabs you by the ankles and yanks you down, the fabric of your comforter turning into a sled toward his body. Then he smiles wide, shakes his head in disbelief, and praises, “You’re so gorgeous it’s almost offensive.”

You roll your eyes and fail to suppress a sweet, shy smile. “Thank you.”

Then he drops to his knees, muttering something about getting down to business. Reverently, he kisses and licks your inner thighs, going between sucking marks on your skin and soothing them with his tongue. Once he’s got you squirming and silently begging, he inhales your scent deeply, hovers close to your drenched sex, and groans, “I’ve been wondering how you taste for years. Can’t believe I finally get to find out.”

“You’re ridiculous.”

He grins and ghosts the breath of his words across your clit, “And I bet you taste like heaven.”

The moment his tongue makes contact, you both moan. His vibrates up your spine, turning yours into more of a breathy gasp. He latches onto your clit, then, refusing to tease when he finally has exactly what he wants. Propped up on your elbows, you watch as he greedily devours you, eyes closed and face relaxed with rapture. You’ve never seen him look so stress-free. Like your pussy’s the one thing in the world that can silence his racing mind.

He might not admit it out loud, but that’s the truth. Your tartness on his tongue has his cock leaking through his boxers. He’s rutting against your mattress like a horny dog, imagining how ridiculously good it’s going to be to finally slip his cock inside of you. That dizzying goal combined with the perfection of your taste has him dialed in, focused on your pleasure more than he focuses on most procedures.

He curls one finger slowly inside of you, thrilled out of his fucking mind when you groan louder and buck your hips against his mouth for more. His hands are huge and they’ve always been an object of your secret lust. When he adds a second finger, there’s a slight sting, but it’s quickly eased by his tongue lapping at your clit, flat and confident and accompanied by rhythmic gentle sucking. The pace he sets is indulgent, the first course in a long meal he wants to savor every morsel of.

When Robby feels your orgasm starting to tighten, he slows down. Teases it out. His fingers turn from curling to massaging, firm and insistent against your G-spot like only a doctor could. He makes sure to spread them wide, scissoring them, letting your muscles clamp and stretch. When your wetness soaks into his beard, he finally pulls off, just lightly kissing your inner thighs and breathing you in.

Orgasm-hazy and needy, you manage to stammer out, “I have an IUD, by the way.”

He looks up from between your legs with a mischievously raised eyebrow. Fuck, hes so handsome with his lips all shiny from spit and wetness. “Are you trying to tell me to fuck you raw?”

After a second, you nod bashfully.

“That’s very good to know, kitten,” he praises warmly. Then he pushes his fingers back inside you and moves his mouth down toward your clit again.

Sounding whinier than you’ve ever heard yourself, you demand, “Michael, please, just fuck me. Need you.”

He kisses your clit tenderly, like he’s greeting an old friend, and tells you, sternly and with no room for debate, “I’ll fuck you when I’ve got you taking three of my fingers. You’ve gotta cum one more time.”

You thrash against his hand and groan, “Christ, I want you so bad. I can take it. I swear I can.”

Still curling his first two fingers back toward himself, he gives you a look so perfectly condescending it makes you clench around him. “Trust me, baby, I love your enthusiasm, and it’s taking a hell of a lot of effort to resist you, but I’ve had this dick long enough to know you need to be good and ready.” He kisses your inner thigh and presses his thumb to your clit, which starts to make your thoughts evaporate again. Then he assures you, “I promise I’m gonna fuck you so hard and so deep that you’re gonna forget anyone else has ever fucked you before. Got it?”

You stretch your arms up behind your head and sigh dreamily, “I guess I shouldn’t complain about having a boyfriend who insists on making me cum twice before he puts his dick in me.”

“Twice when I’m feeling selfish,” he corrects seriously. “This is me rushing to get inside of you. When I’m taking my time, I’ll get four or five out of you first – bring out some toys when my fingers get tired – so you’ll be gushing wet and making the dumbest little noises for me. Turn off that big beautiful brain of yours.”

“You say that like it’s a promise.”

“It is.”

And then he’s back to eating your pussy. You’re still so sensitive from your last orgasm that he goes agonizingly gently, just using the tip of his tongue light as a feather to tease you. He holds you tight to his face by the hips so you can’t squirm away, no matter how much the overwhelming pleasure makes you thrash against the mattress. It’s his fingers that keep you grounded to reality, sloppy wet and firm and knowing. It’s like the beginning of your residency when he guided you through everything slow and steady, paying special attention to you and your potential. He holds your pleasure in his hands with expert precision.

Your orgasm slams through you as soon as he adds the third finger, stretching you comfortably open and pushing you forward. He’s holding you up now, your legs on his shoulders as your back arches away from him and your hands try to find anywhere they can get purchase, tugging his hair and beard and scratching his shoulders as your thighs spasm and ache. Your moans are high and stupid, thoughtless as ecstasy spreads out in front of you.

But Robby doesn’t let up, fingers branding into your hips as his other hand keeps working you open through the brutal aftershocks. The brush of his beard against your sensitive flesh has you seeing stars. Tears sting at your waterline and his lips wrap around your clit harder than ever, refusing to give you any relief from the lingering orgasm that’s bordering on painful now. It’s only when your moans turn to gasps and your tears actually crest over onto your cheeks that he detaches.

Robby blows cool air on your pussy and rubs his thumbs tenderly over your outer thigh as he slowly withdraws his fingers. Your whole body shudders from the stimulation and you feel so fucking good it’s like you’re high on the drug of your newly minted boyfriend.

He gradually kisses up your hip, over your stomach, between your breasts, and then finally along your neck to your lips, where he softly sucks your lower lip and praises, “Good job, angel. You ready or can I bring you water or something?”

You kiss him back for a minute, lapping up the taste of yourself on his mouth. He still has his pants on but you can feel that his cock is agonizingly hard and straining against them. So you press your forehead to his, take a deep breath, and nod seriously. “I need you to fuck me.”

Robby grins, pupils dilating and heart slamming. “You have no idea how many times I’ve imagined you saying that.”

“Probably about as many times as I’ve used a dildo and been disappointed it’s not your cock.” At your response, Robby laughs as he steps off the bed, rummaging through his discarded jacket. He pulls a small bottle of lube from one of the pockets and it makes you snicker. “You were that certain I’d fuck you?”

“Yeah, pretty damn sure.” Then he ditches the small talk, moving back to the edge of the bed like a lion and shoving your legs apart again. He uncaps the bottle and trains his gaze between your thighs. “There’s my greedy pussy. So pretty for me clenching around nothing. Fucking begging.” He squirts cold lube on your hot, overstimulated cunt and you hiss in a sharp breath that makes him chuckle darkly with arousal. “So sensitive, too. Fuck, you’re perfect. Need my cock, don’t you?”

You’re such a sniveling mess that you can’t even respond, just chasing your hips toward his cock to silently beg.

“Shh, shh,” he soothes, stilling your hip with his hand and spreading your legs as wide as they can possibly go. He lines up the head of his cock with your weeping entrance, taking a second to memorize the image as he murmurs,  “Gonna take care of you, sweet girl. Don’t you worry. Just breathe for me.”

No amount of preparation could prepare you for the size of his cock. It doesn’t hurt because you’re ridiculously wet and he took his damn time, but the stretch is immense. Like sinking deeper into a yoga pose that makes you groan and curl your toes. A release. Your head snaps backwards and sweat beads on your forehead as he slowly, carefully, lovingly thrusts inside.

Robby touches your cheek and makes sure, “Is this okay? Not too much?”

You gaze up at him with eyes so full of love and lust Robby’s half-sheathed cock twitches inside the heat of your body. Unable to come up with anything else, you just whisper, “Perfect.”

Robby smirks and nods. He’d tell you how you fit him like a glove, how your wetness and tightness has him on the edge already, how you’re everything, but if he opened his mouth right now the string of high-pitched moans would be absolutely pathetic. So he leans down to kiss you, pushing your legs further back and up so he can fit himself between your hips. As his lips meet yours, you moan into the kiss, toes curling as his cock finally reaches into you as deep as he can, maybe three quarters of him piercing you.

Robby gradually draws his cock back and pushes forward again. With a trembling breath and a burning kiss, he groans, “God, you feel fucking incredible.”

Breathing hard, you grip his hair and nestle into the crook of his neck and cry, “So good, Michael. Your cock’s amazing. Like you were made for me. Feels incredible.”

His whole body shudders with pleasure and delight. “You can’t say things like that, baby.”

“Why not?”

He scoffs, one hand going down to play with your pebbled nipple. “I’d like to fuck you more than thirty seconds before I cum prematurely.”

That makes you bite your lower lip and eye him carefully. You file away ‘Robby totally has a praise kink’ for another day because you can’t put any coherent thoughts together as he manages to get deeper and deeper inside of you with every thrust. You didn’t even know your body could feel like this – loose, warm, brilliantly full. If he pulled out, you’d feel incomplete somehow. He’s christening a new version of you to the point that you’re starting to understand that whole ‘ruining you for other men’ thing. His cock is everything. It’s divine and electric at once, a symphony strumming from your cunt up your abdomen, rooted by his greedy hands on your tits and his mouth worshipping along your neck and collarbones.

Then he drops his thumb down to your clit.

You’re sparking toward another orgasm before you can even process the gesture. He grins into your neck as your back arches and your cunt clamps down. With your walls stretched so taut, each pulse of your pussy is sharp as a rubber band snapping, intense and vibrant. When you cum, you lose any control over your body, becoming something primal and raw and animal. Fingers digging into his flesh. Teeth sharp and violent over his shoulders. Legs locked around his ass. There aren’t any thoughts but the drunkenness of his touch, his body pressing down on yours, his claiming grasp everywhere. 

As you shatter into aftershocks, overstimulating and delicious, you’re being so loud, moans and slapping skin and gushing cunt, that Robby probably should slow his fucking or muffle your mouth, but he’s addicted to the sounds. It’s the litany of music from your body that has his balls tightening and him grunting, “Where do you want it?”

All you can do is tighten your thighs around him and stare up with lust-ridden eyes, whining almost constantly, a silent plea for what you want.

Robby holds your face by the jaw, keeping you trained forward to look right at him despite how glassy and dazed your expression is. “If you want me to cum inside of you, you’re gonna have to ask nicely.”

You nod slowly, trying to come up with words when your thoughts are sex-fueled molasses. It takes another few seconds for you to come up with one idea that rings true enough to break through the fog: “I’m yours, Michael. Please.”

“That’s right,” he growls, hands around your ankles to keep you in the mating press as he shoves deep inside of you, cum bursting forward. You watch, rapt, as his mouth falls open into a precious little O and his eyes pinch tight and his right hand smashes back onto the wall to keep him upright. “Fuck. Fuck.” He falls forward and kisses you like it’s the last time he’ll ever get the chance: Desperate and owning. His voice is broken and raspy. “God, I love you. I can’t believe you’re finally mine.”

You just whimper into his neck, wrapping your arms around him and easing your legs down as much as they can with his body still between them. Not so subtly kissing and licking his sweat, you murmur sweetly, “Love you, Michael. Will you stay the night?”

“Of course,” he replies easily. “Stay here; let me get you cleaned up and comfortable. Is it alright if I rummage around to get you something to drink too?”

You nod and hum happily, “You’re an angel.”

After pressing a few more kisses to your lips and cheeks and forehead, Robby stands up, stretches out his arms, chuckles to himself, and disappears into your kitchen and then your adjacent bathroom. You drift contentedly in the blissed-out cloud of your brain, eyes gently closed and limbs heavy, until he returns. You barely notice his presence until you feel a cool washcloth wiping the beading sweat from your forehead and chest and then trailing down between your legs. Robby listens to your heavy, even, satisfied breaths as he works, switching to massaging the bruises his rough hands have left over your hips and his greedy mouth left along your thighs.

Finally, he sits next to you on the bed and softly rubs your shoulder. “Drink some of this for me.”

“Mmm.”

You barely open your eyes as you take the chilled blue Gatorade from him, chugging down half of it before offering it back so that he can drink it too. Then he gives you a tangy bright kiss and says, “C’mon, I’m pretty sure it’s bedtime.”

With a big stretch of your arms over your head, you swing your legs off the bed, kiss him hard, and stand. He slips back into the bathroom as you grab a pair of shorts and tank top to put on after you’ve showered or at least cleaned up some.

“Jesus, sweetheart, you’ve got me looking like I went ten rounds with a boxer,” he whistles low from the bathroom. “You’re awfully cute for a vampire, you know that?”

“I’m sure the marks aren’t that bad,” you reply with an eye roll, joining him through the doorway. Under the real lights, though, you realize with horror that you’ve not only given him hickeys and bruises but you’ve broken his skin in more than one place – both with your teeth and with your nails. There are mean bites all around his neck and down his shoulders, scratches over his arms and upper back, beads of blood mingling among the marks. Tears spring up into your eyes when you realize you’ve caused him pain that he’s going to be carrying around for a week or more. “Oh my god, Michael, I’m so fucking sorry.”

“Sorry?” He turns toward you with an adorably furrowed brow. “What in the ever living fuck are you sorry about?”

You rummage around the bathroom drawers for your first aid kit and sniffle, “I really hurt you.”

“Baby, baby, stop.” Robby snatches you back by the hips and pulls you up. “I’m gonna wear these as a badge of honor. You have any idea how good it feels to fuck a good girl so well she turns feral?”

You pout your lip as you try to suppress your smile. “At least let me look them over. Apply some topical antibiotics and bandaids.”

“I can take care of myself, sweetheart, they gave me a whole degree in topical antibiotics and bandaids,” he chuckles. “And you’re gonna have to get used to it. Now that I know how crazy you get, I fully expect to get these marks touched up more nights than not.”

“Michael,” you protest half-heartedly as he kisses you deeply, “the human mouth is a hotbed for for infections.”

He doesn’t stop smiling, though, tugging you into his body by the waist, his cock debating coming to light against your thigh. “Yeah, baby, I noticed your mouth is fucking filthy.”

“Robby, I’m serious, we need to clean the wound sites or-”

“Ohohoh,” he teases, “if you wanted to shower together, you could’ve just said that.”

You hum as you flip pancakes, pajamas hanging loosely from your body, Robby standing behind you lavishing kisses along the tops of your shoulder. The warmth of his shirtless body has kept you feeling so safe and cozy all night. When the door handle turns nearby, you startle slightly from the intrusion to your peace but don’t move.

Robby doesn’t either. He just shifts his weight so he can look over his shoulder at your roommate coming home. No point in pretending this won’t be a regular occurrence. He offers, trying sound kind and nonthreatening so she won’t get spooked like a rabbit again? “Morning, Dr. King, how was your shift?”

Mel stares at the two of you for about thirty seconds, computing and calibrating, before she just shrugs off her jacket, hangs it on the small coat rack, and replies, “Um, hi, Dr. Robby, it- it was good; finally checked off an emergent birth.”

“Good work,” he tells her earnestly; the first time delivering a baby on the ED floor is nothing short of terrifying. “Congratulations, kid.”

“Looks like I have some congratulating to do, too.” She beams and joins you both in the kitchen. “You two are finally happening? For real?”

“For real,” he confirms with a laugh as he realizes how much you must’ve vented to Mel over the years. “Took us long enough, I’d say.”

With Robby blocking the coffee maker, Mel just presents a mug to him. He fills it with a surprised nod, pleased to see her slightly more comfortable with his presence. She sighs out like she’s getting a massage, “God, this is such a relief for me. You have no clue how annoying she is about you, like, every night. Robby breathed on my neck and I almost passed out. Robby reached for the same suture kit as me. I had that sex dream about Robby again. It’ll be nice to go to bed earlier.”

You glare at Mel over your shoulder as you plate up a stack of pancakes. “You don’t have to make me look bad in front of my brand new boyfriend.”

“Trust me, baby,” he replies, turning to catch you in a quick kiss, “I’m twice as bad. I’m pretty sure Jack was getting ready to file a cease and desist because of how often I complained about not having you. Him and Samira are going to have to come up with a new couple to meddle with; I almost feel bad for them.”

Mel nervously asks, “Dr. Robinavitch, would you grab me the French vanilla creamer?”

“You can call me Michael, if you want.” He opens up the fridge, searches a second, and hands over the half-empty bottle. “Figure I should be on a first-name basis with my future wife’s maid of honor.”

You pour your own mug of coffee and give him a smirk. “Future wife, huh?”

“Mohan shared your ring Pinterest board with me when I left Jack’s to come here last night.” He kisses your cheek, beard scratchy and lovely, and murmurs, “The title being ‘Mrs. Robinavitch’ didn’t leave much to the imagination in terms of your intentions with me.”

Mel, absolutely grinning now as her happiness for her best friend bubbles over, giggles,  “Maybe I’ll start a betting pool for how long it’ll take.”

Robby gives her a conspiratorial wink that makes your heart sing. “Cut me in for half and I’ll help you cheat.”

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I get wet at the thought of you Being a responsible guy Treating me like you're supposed to do Tears run down my thighs

Of course you had a crush on Dr. Abbot when you first started your residency at the pitt. The first time you'd stepped in the trauma room with him he'd commanded it with precision, never barking at anyone, just delivering instructions while simulateously comforting the pediatric patient who'd been victim of a hit and run. Anyone would be attracted to his calm demeanour, and his ability to do his job well. And besides, he looked like that.

Defined biceps that seemed to be bursting the seems of every scrub top he owned. You had to resist the urge to bite down on your fist as you watch him move ultrasound probes across patients bodies. And yes you knew that the middle of a trauma room with an unconcious patient between you two was not the time or place to be horny, but the unevolved caveman part of your brain couldn't help it.

The first time he'd had to grab your hands and guide you through a procedure he'd been standing behind you. He'd pressed up against your back - close proximity was common during traumas - as his hand moved yours tho the correct spot, looking over your shoulder at the moniter. He was close enough that you could smell the musky scent from his after shave. You could feel his breath on your ear, tickling your neck. Your heart rate picked him when he leaned forward to get a better view of the monitor, pressing into your back.

He gave you some final instructions before he left, leaving you alone with the patient and a smirking Santos.

"Why are you looking at me like that?"

"Someone has a cruuush," she sings.

You try to play it off, "No I don't."

"Oh thank you Dr. Abbot, you're so helpful, and smart and sexy," she mimics in a high pitch voice.

"I did not say any of that."

"You were thinking it," she hums, "It's written all over your face."

You can feel for face heat up. You've never been so glad that you can't blush.

"He's my -our attending."

"You say that like it doesn't make it sexier."

You narrow your eyes at her, "How you managed to get Garcia to go out with you I will never understand."

You yelp as you dodge the nitrile glove she launches at your face.

A little initiative can go a very long, long way Baby, just do the dishes, I'll give you what you (what you), what you want A little communication, yes, that's my ideal foreplay Assemble a chair from IKEA, I'm like, "Uhhh"

You get home from your shift, ache travelling all the way from your back down your legs. You're exhausted, and the thought of making dinner makes you want to scream. There's not even anything in the fridge for you to fill your stomach with - just some orange juice and cilantro that you forgot to use that's probably wilty and gross by now.

The smell hits you once you open the door. You don't know what it is, but you don't care - it's delicous. Your stomach growls as you set down your stuff in the entryway.

"Jack?" you call out. You'd forgotten until know that you'd given him a key last week, "Are you cooking in my appartment?"

No man has ever looked sexier. Standing at the stove stiring stuff in a pan. He's wearing his old man cargos and a plain back t-shirt. You wanna jump his bones so bad.

He looks up at you with a crooked grin, "Robby told me you guys had a rough shift. Thought I'd come over and make you feel better about it."

You give in, slumping against his body as you kiss him, "What'd you make."

"Something called 'marry me chicken pasta'," he says, blowing on a spoonful of sauce and letting you have a taste, "Saw the recipe on line thought it sounded good."

"Jack Abbot, are you proposing to me?" you tease, moaning as you try out the sauce, "Cause the answer is yes. That's the best thing I've ever eaten."

"Sweetheart, when I propose to you, you'll know."

He gives you another kiss before he shoos you away from the kitchen, "Go shower, it'll be ready once you're done."

"Okay I know I didn't have all the stuff for this. Did you go grocery shopping?"

"Of course I did," he scoffs, "No 'girl dinner' or whatever the fuck you kids are on about these days. There's enough for you to take to the hospital tomorrow, if you want, and I got some protein bars and other snacks you like."

He went grocery shopping for you? You have to cross your legs to soothe the ache between them.

"How much do I owe you for it?"

"Owe me?" his brow furrows, "Why the hell would you owe me?"

"For the groceries and stuff you bought."

"You're my girlfriend. When have I ever asked you to pay me back for something. This is a gift from me to you. Now go shower, food's almost ready."

You were gonna suck his dick so good later.

"Jack Abbot, will you marry me?" you ask from your place just outside the kitchen, "You're too good to be true."

"Nice try, kid," he chuckles, "Sorry, but I'm old fashioned, I'll be the one doing the proposing around here."

One shower and a fresh set of pajamas later, and you walked back into the kitchen to see the dishes washed and drying on the drying rack, a table cloth - which you did not previously own - on the table, and your sexy boyfriend sitting on the floor, giving your cat, Lumi, a squeeze treat in the middle of the room.

You're a little dizzy by how turned on you are.

"You picked up churus for her?"

"Yeah, I'm still trying to get her to like me."

"She likes you."

"She was sleeping on the couch when I came in. I tried to pet her head and she nearly took my finger off."

You can't help but giggle at the image, "It's not you I promise. She hates men in general."

"Hence, my bribery."

He gives her a pet when she finishes the tube. He pets her on the head twice before she realizes that she won't be getting anymore and she leaves.

"Your daughter is a user."

"Yeah she got that from me," you wink, sitting down at the table, "Hurry and take your portion before I eat it all."

After Dinner, Jack takes your plate and walks over to the sink.

"Jack you cooked, I can wash the dinner dishes," you say, trying to stop him.

He shakes his head, "You worked today."

"But I feel bad."

"Don't. I wouldn't do it if I didn't want to."

You watch from your spot, eyes glued to his biceps straining in his shirt. You watched the way his muscles moved as he worked, the sight doing nothing to stop the throb between your legs. If he notices your eyes on him, he doesn't say anything - diligently scrubbing each dish and putting them on the drying rack. When he's finished, he moves to get a dish towel, but you get up, pulling him down for a kiss. His hands rest just above your ass, you try to push against him to get him to move them lower.

"Baby," he pants when he pulls away, "Hang on let me finish putting these away."

"Let them air dry," you say, tugging at his shirt.

"I can just finish these now and then you can do whatever you want to me when I'm done. It'll take 10 minutes tops."

You ignore him, instead dropping to your knees.

"Sweetheart, you don't have to-"

"I wouldn't do it if i didn't want to," you wink at him, mimicing his earlier words, "Wanna thank you for dinner."

You work him out of his pants, giving him a few pumps before you like a stripe up the underside of his cock. Leans back against the counter, keeping a white-knuckled grip on it.

"You don't need to thank me for anything."

"One time in med school I went away for a 4 nights with my friends," you spit on your hand, using it to continue sliding up and down his cock as you look up at his through your lashes, "And I asked my boyfriend at the time to check up on Lumi for me. When I came back there were unwashed dishes in my sink that I didn't leave there - some of them had mold."

"Jesus, the bar is so low. Please tell me that's why you broke up with him."

You grimace, "I wish it was. I would have put up with it but then I realized he didn't scoop Lumi's litterbox the whole time either and that made me realize I couldn't stay with him."

"Enough about him," you say, squeezing the base of his cock, "Let me show you how much I appreciate you."

I get wet at the thought of you Being a responsible guy

One night after a hard shift you were sitting in the park across the street. Everyone else had cleared out. You were still sitting on the bench, beer empty, kees pulled up to your chest. You were resting your head on them, trying to find the motivation to get up and leave.

"You don't have to stay with me, Dr. Abbot."

"Yes I do. What kind of man would leave a young woman alone when its dark out?"

You look up at him. You don't know why you do it. Maybe it was residual adrenaline from your shift, or just plain idiocy but you you lean forward, gently pressing your lips to his.

As soon as you realize what you've done you jerk away from him.

"Oh my god I'm so sorry. I dont- I don't know what happened."

"It's okay. I won't tell anyone"

He doesn't move away. You sit there, staring at each other for a while trying to figure out what to do next.

"I'm 20 something years older than you."

"I know," you whisper.

"I'm your attending."

"I know."

"I'd be taking advantage of you."

Ugh, you know the fact that you're turned on by the way he acknowledges that your relationship would be inappropriate is a little fucked up, but you truly cannot help the warmth that sparks in your belly.

"That implies that I don't want you, because I do, Jack. I've had a crush on you since I first started here.

Of course Jack knew that you'd had a crush on him. He'd dealt with moony-eyed med students and residents before, once upon a time he'd been one himself. It made sense. You're young, nervous, and your attendings feel like gods sometimes, the way they pick up on things you haven't even thought of. Besides, he's not a narcissist or anything, but he knew he was good looking. It usually resolved itself over time. They'd fumble around for words for a bit around him, maybe drop a tray of sterile tools one or twice, but they'd get over it eventually when they realize that he's just a man.

Except this is the first time he has feelings back.

"I know that."

"You did?" If you thought you were embarrassed when you'd kissed him, boy did you want to drop dead on the bench right now. You groan, running your hands through your hair, "Was I that obvious? I'm gonna go stand in front of oncoming traffic."

"Stop being dramatic," he laughs, "You were always professional but we can ususally tell."

"We?"

"Me, Robby, Dana too. Shen's starting to get some now that he's an official attending. It just kinda happens sometimes - a lot more common with the med students, but residents aren't immune to our charms."

"Oh my god."

"Relax, would you? It's cute really."

"That's not helping the embarassment."

"The point is," he says, giving you mercy and changing the subject, "I am your superior it wouldn't be right."

He still hasn't moved from his spot next to you.

"No, it wouldn't."

You press your luck, leaning forward again.

"It's against every rule."

"Yes it is."

"You're young enough to be my daughter."

"Yeah, I am."

This time when you kiss him, he doesn't pull away.

Treating me like you're supposed to do Tears run down my thighs

You don't make it to the bedroom. Before you can even finish blowing him, he pulls you off him. You try to object, but he just gets you on your feet before hiking you up on the counter. He kisses down your neck, making you fall back on your arms for support as you wrap your legs around his waist, trying to get him impossibly closer to you.

He wastes no time, getting down on his kees, pulling your pants down just far enough give him acess. He groans at the sight of your bare cunt.

"You've sat there this whole meal just waiting for me?" he spreads your legs apart, kissing your inner thighs, stubble scratching along your most sesitive spots.

The sight of him looking up at you from between your legs is almost enough to get you there.

"Wanted to eat the food you worked so hard on," you sigh, running your fingers through his silver curls, "But was thinking about how much I wanted to fuck you the whole time."

"Insatiable," he mutters against your skin, "Worked a full 12 hours and all you want is sex."

You grin, "Are you complaining?"

"Not at all."

The conversation stops when he gets your legs over his shoulders, pulling you to the edge of the counter. He sucks your clit into his mouth, pulling a moan from you. He licks broad strokes up your pussy before sliding two fingers into you. Jack's fingers were thick, stretching you out. He knows your well by now, knows exactly how to crook his fingers, where to nip at your thighs, the way to bring you to edge without breaking a sweat.

"Kow you're close," he says, pressing a kiss to your thigh, "Gotta ask me."

"Jackie" you groan, throwing a hand over your face in annoyance, "c'mon."

"I want to hear your sweet voice," his fingers still inside you, "How am I supposed to know how to fuck you if you don't tell me?"

"You're so fucking annoying."

"Oh my baby's feeling fiesty today," he bites at your inner thigh, close to your cunt, "maybe she needs to remember her manners."

He drags his stubbled cheek along the spot he just bit, lighting your nerves on fire. You whine as he pulls his your legs even father apart some how, feeling the stretch in your lower body. He keeps eye contact with you as he spits on your cunt.

"C'mon, kid, she's so needy for me. You going to deny her?"

You know this is a battle you will not win. You can feel his hot saliva dripping down your pussy.

"Fuck, Jackie, please let me cum. I'm so close."

"All you had to do was ask."

A little respect for women can get you very, very far Remembering how to use your phone gets me, oh, so, oh, so, oh, so hot Considering I have feelings, I'm like, "Why are my clothes still on?" Offering to do anything, I'm like (Oh my God!)

"Are you fucking kidding me?" Mr. Mullings voice booms loud enough to be heard throughout the ED.

"Mr Mullings, I know you're upset-"

"Upset? I was upset when I hit the 4 hour mark in the waiting room. I am livid."

His face is turning a mildly concerning shade of red as he gets closer to you.

"I wait here for a full 8 hours and you're not even going to treat me?"

"Woah, woah, woah" you try not to visibly slump in relief when Jack makes shows up, "What's going on here."

"Finally, a real fucking doctor. This little liar here said she's not going to treat me after I've waited here for 8 fucking hours."

You take a deep breath, calming your nerves. "That's not what I said. I was explaining to Mr. Mullins that our tests conclude he only has the flu and will not be receiving antibiotics since they will be useless in this situation."

"Alright, so what's the problem."

"I don't know what sort of DEI requirements she fills but this little bitch is clearly doesn't know what she's talking about."

Jack straightens as soon as the word leaves Mr. Mullins lips, "Alright, I do not tolerate abuse against my residents so you will be leaving now. If you'd like to try your luck at another hospital then by all means, go ahead but they will just tell you the same thing she's already told you. Viruses like the flu are not affected not bacteria, therefore antibiotics will have no affect."

"She should have said that then."

You did. More than once.

Jack narrows his eyes, "It's time for you leave before you become admitted with more than just the flu."

"Are you threatening me."

Mr. Mullins leers over Jack, trying to use the few extra inches of height he has to intimate him. Jack is unfazed, stare unwavering.

"It's not a threat if I intend to follow through."

He crosses his arms, "Now, get the fuck out of my emergency department."

Oh you were gonna suck his dick so hard when you get home.

You don't make it home. Around 3 am there's a lull. No traumas, no screaming psych patients, no Myrna terrorizing the staff. It's slow enough that you can actually take a break, and so you end up in the bathroom by the elevators, pulling Jack through the door behind you.

"The hell has gotten into you?" he asks as you shove him against the door, shoving a hand down his pants.

"That was so fucking sexy," you respond.

"Gonna have to be more specific, doll." There's a very small counter at the sink. Jack helps you sit on it.

"Defending me like that," you give him a few pumps, awkward angle straining your wrist but working through it, "Against that racist motherfucker that thought I was an imbicile. Got so fucking wet watching you."

As if on cue, he gets a hand under your scrub pants, dragging a finger through your throbbing folds, "Fuck, you're not kidding, doll."

"Woulda let you bend me over in front of him," you say as he gets one finger in you, then a second, opening you up quickly.

"I'll keep that in mind next time."

You're short on time and he knows it. Someone could already be looking for him. He pulls his cock out of his pants, giving it a few good tugs before lining it up with your entrance. You groan at the stretch of his head.

"Gotta keep quiet, baby," he raises the fingers that were just indside your pussy to your mouth, "Can't have anyone hearing what a good fucking girl you are for your attending, now can we?"

You nod, tongue swirling around his fingers that taste like you. You adjust your hips so he has a better angle to slide all the way into you. He gives you a few moments to adjust before he slams his hips into yours. He gets one hand on your clit, rubbing quick circles and giving you the stimulation you need.

Your moans are muffled by the fingers in your mouth, "So fucking needy, can't even it through my shift without you begging for my cock."

You start panting as you near your release.

"Gonna cum, sweet girl? Gonna cum for me in the middle of the fucking hospital?" his words go straight to your core, making you clench around him involuntarily.

He lets out a deep chuckle, his head is burried against your neck, warm breath sending a shiver down your spine, "'Course you like being remided that you're easy for me. You're my good girl, aren't you."

"Mhm," you respond, still unable to say any actual words.

"Cum all over my cock, baby."

Thank god he Jack had the forsight to cover your mouth because there would be no mistaking the noise from any passersby. Your orgasm shoots through you, extended by Jack fucking you through it, rolling waves of pleasure taking over your body. He cums shortly after, hiding his groan with a bite to your shoulder.

You take a few minutes to gather make yourselves presentable before Jack gives me one final kiss.

"Give me a 5 minute buffer and then go and check on your patients."

The way he's flawlessly able to switch into attending mode almost has you pulling him back for round 2.

Bonus ♥️

"Jack are you blushing?"

When you look over at your grizzled, tough, veteran boyfriend his face is bright red as he drives the car. Jack has his taste in music, but he doesn't care enough to fight you over the AUX (not that he knows what that is), so you're always in charge of the music when you drive together.

"This song is obscene," he runs a hand over his face, "It took me a second. I didn't know why the song is so happy when she was crying so much that her tears ran down all the down to her thighs but the 'I get w-I get wet' line put it into perspective."

"Jack, you say way more obscene things to me every day."

"That's just between you and me! They didn't make music like this back in my day."

"Yes they did. People have been singing about sex since sex was invented."

"Not like this! Oh my god, putting Ikea furniture together turns her on? This poor girl needs to raise her standards."

You laugh, "You've heard the stories about my ex, men like you are getting harder and harder to find, hun."

His blush gets deeper.

"If you don't like it I can turn it off."

"No don't," he says "She's a good singer I just wasn't expecting the song called 'Tears' to be so... sexual."

"Oh you're going to love 'House Tour'."