Livvy

his head was tilted up, groaning to the ceiling. his readers had gone out of alignment, it now sat on the pointiest tip of his nose. his hair unruly from your fingers roughly running across his scalp, and his face flushed and sweaty — he looked absolutely laughable like this. what would his peers or juniors think if they caught their very serious and very professional attending — helpless before a pretty young thing?

there was a large, creamy stain starting to form on jack’s dress pants, and it’s only getting bigger the longer you keep this up. 

“oh god. fuck– ff-fifty. i’m fifty.” he almost whined at the end of his response. 

“again.” you pressed. the roll of your hips getting faster and more desperate.

“i’m fifty. i’m fifty.” he held you firmly at the soft curve where your hips met your thighs, encouraging your movements. his breathing had become more ragged, his moans and groans getting much louder as he’s nearing his peak. 

you begged once more. “say it again, please. dad, please! i’m gonna cum if you tell me again. please. please! i’m gonna cum–” 

since you asked so nicely, looking so pretty as you did, jack leaned in close to the shell of your ear. the lightest touch of his lips and the gruffness of his voice made you shiver. 

“i’m fifty years old, babydoll. shouldn’t have any business playing around with your dad like this, hm? but you’re a nasty girl. when nasty girls feel achey here–” he pressed the pad of his thumb over your throbbing clit. “–they fuck themselves on their dads’ cock.”

“aahh!” you shrieked at the top of your lungs, the walls of your cunt intensely pulsated around his fat length. 

“shit! i’m gonna cum. i’m not wearing a condom – baby, baby i gotta pull out!” he tried to maneuver himself so he could take himself out before he shot his load in you. 

but you kept yourself buried deep, using your position to your advantage. 

“babydoll–” jack warned you. “get up, young lady.”

“no!” 

he wriggled and squirmed beneath you. he should be able to overpower you but if he got up all of a sudden, he’s afraid he might push you down the floor or hurt you in any way. he just desired for you to gently pull out. 

“you asking to get spanked?!” 

he didn’t mean to raise his voice, but he’s very strict about using practising safe sex. it was already risky enough to let you warm his cock in the first place. he also didn’t want you to feel regret  — if something or someone did come to fruition. he didn’t want to put any pressure on you if you were unprepared to step into that chapter of your lives. 

“don’t care, daddy. jus’ wanna feel you cum inside me. i need it.” if that was not convincing enough for him, you took hold of his face in your hands to look him in the eyes. 

despite the sensitivity of your core, you started to slowly grind on his lap again, mercilessly not giving your lover any other choice. 

that made the dam burst, loads and loads of his spend was released in your sex. his cries were sharp, the loudest you’d ever heard from him. you noticed there were actual tears in his eyes, you carefully wiped them away with the tips of your fingers. 

“daddy? i reallyyy want a sister, but i don’t care that much at all, to be honest. a healthy sibling would be perfect.” ♡

But in the middle of your R4 he suddenly broke things off with you. No explanation, no big speech about how it’s not you it’s him. Just a simple ‘we can’t do this anymore, I’m sorry’ text. You did your best to brush it off and act as if he didn’t break your heart. You had to, it was supposed to be no strings attached.

Unfortunately those strings had a tight grip around your heart, and even if you didn’t want to admit it they still do. So when the familiar scent of his faded cologne came across your senses and the familiar warmth of his hand rested at your lower back you didn’t fight much against his guidance.

With half lidded eyes you mumbled a sentence that sounded almost like you were trying to say ‘what the fuck’. But it was as if your tongue was lead, slurring together each vowel and consonant. But the moment Jack ended up manhandled you into an on call room bed your mind began waking.

“Dr.Abbot what do you think you’re doing?” Your elbows bent against the soft blankets propping up your upper body.

“Don’t pull that bullshit with me kid” his graveled scoff rang out, “we’re alone so it’s Jack, and don’t act like you aren’t fighting your every nerve to stay awake”

“Well not anymore seeing as I’m not tired, Abbot”

“The fuck do you mean not tired you’re wobbling all over the damn place and basically taking a nap with each goddamn blink!” He crossed his arms and swayed closer to where you lay.

His wide stance and concerned gaze pulled a long sigh from you before flopping back on the bed. Eyes tearing up just slightly.

“Look even if I wanted to sleep I can’t get more than two hours at a time” you squeezed your eyes closed as the stinging sensation built behind your lids, “I’ve tried everything to help me sleep but nothing is working”

“Since when have you had problems sleeping?” Jack furrowed his brows trying to remember the last time you had such an issue, “usually I had problems keeping you awake or waking you up”

His casual mentioning of your previous relationship had your mood souring quickly. You could stand being on the same floor as him and even in the same room. But the obliviousness and ignorance he must’ve held to just bring it up as it was nothing had you angrier than you or he expected.

“Right well you don’t know me anymore Dr.Abbot, and you lost the privilege to my personal life outside of these walls months ago,” the speed at which you stood up was incredible considering how tired you were, “I’m no longer interested in whatever little hero fantasy dreamland you thought was going to play out here”

Your words had him flinching back as they hit him square in the chest. When he broke it off with you it was because he had realized that the ache in his chest everytime he saw you was too real. The care he felt for you became too real. And he knew that a man of his age and history would only bring a young woman like you with a bright future down with him. He didn’t however, account for your own feelings.

“Hey, hey I’m sorry okay” he gently grasped your arm and raised his other in the air as a small surrender, “I just wanted to check on you and make sure you’re okay”

His insistence to play the good guy was simultaneously melting your heart all over again, and pissing you off more. And because all you know is to take control and hurt someone before hurting you, you meant for your next words to hurt.

“Well Jack we can’t do this anymore” you mirrored his last text to you, “except I’m not sorry, in fact I’m glad you cut it off before I realized how much you just weren’t worth the effort”

Now those words would’ve absolutely broken him, if it weren’t for the accumulation of tears and the crack in your voice that told him you didn’t truly mean them. But it did tell him just how much he hurt you, and that made it worse than if you had actually meant what you said.

So with more determination than before he grabbed your shoulders, spun you around and pulled you into his chest. Wrapping an arm around your mid back to keep you in place and another above your shoulders so he could hold your head.

“Get off of me!” You fought the urge to relax and let go, refusing to just give in, “Jack I-please-I can’t!”

“Hey enough okay I’m sorry, I’m so sorry baby” he tightened his hold as your fists hit his chest, “I was selfish okay and I’m so sorry, but please let me help you and we can talk about all this later”

“I don’t want your help”

The softer tone of your voice made it very hard for you to seem angry still. As well as the way you were leaning into his chest and gripping his shirt.

“Even if you don’t want to, will you at least let me try?”

His hands moved up and down your back before they both traveled to the sides of your face. One on each side as he tilted your head away from his shirt. Jack leaned his forehead down to touch yours, noses brushing against each other. Your eyes instinctively closed at the contact, lips seeking his. Touching only for a moment before he spoke softly.

“Such a little brat like always,” his lips kissed your nose, “need to hear you say yes, okay?”

You nod, unable to form the words. Just desperately seeking his touch, his taste, him. Truly you should be ashamed how quickly you have in. But in all honestly you missed his warmth and the safety he gave you.

“C’mon baby, one little word. And then I’ll take care of you just like you need” Jacks lips brushed yours with each syllable, the taste of mint gum wafted across your mouth.

“Y-yes”

With a slight tilt of your head by his hands, his lips finally sought yours out. A small smirk forming on his as you let out a breathy moan, you had missed this. You had missed him.

He led you back to the bed, where you sat down instinctively when the back of your knees felt the mattress. His lips trailed across your face and down the column of your neck, taking the time to suck a harsh mark or two just above your scrub collar. His fingers playing with the hem of your top before he slipped it off. Your bra following closely after.

“God how I want to take my time with you after so long, but we don’t have much time baby” he laid your upper body down before slipping of your bottoms. “Next time I’ll make sure you know just how much I love you”

While your mind was warped and filled with pleasure and exhaustion that didn’t mean his words didn’t register with you. You just needed a moment to process, but he didn’t think twice. You weren’t even sure he fully realized what he said, but the look in his eyes said he did.

But as Jacks thumb expertly found your clit, and created tight circles he wasn’t expecting a response. Especially when he shoved two thick fingers into your soaking wet cunt, curling them just right seemingly never forgetting the curves and contours of your body. The feeling of being stuffed full and aching had you finally moaning out your response.

“Oh fuck Jack! Feels s’good please don’t stop, I-I love you too”

His movements stuttered for just a moment before he doubled down. Dropping onto his good knee and replacing his fingers at your clit with his mouth. Swirling his tongue as if he was trying to carve his name into your skin. And the fingers that were still buried so deeply into you kept hitting that one spot at the roof of your anterior walls.

Only taking a few more curls and a particularly harsh suck of your clit before you came, hard, and a bit too loud for it being your place of work.

“That’s it baby, let it out. You taste just as good as I remember”

His gravely voice was sex to your ears, clouding your judgement with each word. Barely registering the sound of his zipper or the clink of his belt. Only opening your eyes when his large hands lifted both your legs onto his shoulders. Remembering just how big he was you tried to scoot away.

“Ah ah ah, I gotchya don’t worry, I know it’s been a while so I’ll take it nice and slow” he dragged out the end of the word nice in a smug tone.

Notching the head of his cock at your cunt, you made one last attempt to slip at least one leg down. But Jack just leaned his upper body forward, stretching your hamstrings so that you couldn’t slip off. He also reached a hand up to cover your mouth, but before you could ask what he was doing, his hips thrusted forward in a not so slow manner.

His unbelievably thick cock splitting you open as he only got halfway down. The hand that you weren’t sure why was on your mouth now made sense, your guttural moans were thankfully muffled as your nerves were overwhelmed with him.

“Look at that baby, only halfway in and she’s squeezing me so tightly,” Jack pulled out just slightly before pushing back in sneaking in more of his length, “she’s just weeping with how much she missed me, huh?”

With one more push, his entire cock was buried deep in your warmth, his cock head resting tightly against your cervix. Moving your legs forward just a bit more so your butt was slightly off the bed, he pulled out until just the last inch was left before slamming back into you.

The force pushing all the air from your lungs, over and over again. His brutal pace had him bullying your walls over and over. And with a small adjustment to the angle of his hips, Jack had you seeing stars. You both could feel the way your second orgasm was building as your cunt contracted around his cock every so often.

“P-please n-need t’cum Jackie!”

“Shhh, I’m almost done okay just hold on f’me I know you can”

A pathetic whine left your lips as you nodded in agreement, trying your best to stave off your orgasm. But you were so exhausted and your eyes lids felt as if they were 30lbs. So in one breath you had lost the grip you had on holding it back as your mind drifted off in briefly into unconsciousness for two seconds before you were brought back by the most intense orgasm you’ve had in months ripping through you.

Sounds you didn’t know you could make were emanating from your throat, and just above you Jack decided it would be a good time to join you. His thrusts slowed burying himself as deep as he could go and stuck to grinding his hips. Seeing as the tight clench of your cunt made it hard for him to keep his pace. But he didn’t mind, he loved knowing only he was capable of fucking you this good.

It took less than a minute before he buried his face into your neck and began emptying himself deep inside of your warmth. Grunting out his release and deciding later is a better time to worry about any consequences about forgoing a condom. Resting his body tight against yours he rode out both your highs.

As the fluttering of your walls slowed and relaxed he finally pulled himself out of you and noticed the familiar soft snores sounding from you. Jack took the time to move you into a proper sleeping position before grabbing a cloth from the closet to clean you up. The water was warm but you didn’t even bat an eye at the sensation.

Pulling up the covers he tucked you in before giving you a kiss on the forehead.

“I’m taking you to my place after work and we are settling everything once and for all”

Your only reply was a snuggle of the pillow he placed under your head. Walking out of the room he made sure to put up the occupied/DND sign before walking back onto the floor. Something he regretted when the sight of his two fellow doctors Ellis and Shen greeted him with overly satisfied looks.

“Not the big bad attending using the on call rooms for all his sick little desires” Shen chuckled out reaching for his coffee cup.

“Excuse me?”

“Oh don’t play coy with us Abbot you put that girl through work” Ellis patted him on the back, “and thank god because we were all worried you would never admit your feelings”

“Just make sure you’re quieter next time. Myrna ratted you out to us when she found herself down a hall she wasn’t supposed to be in” Shen then turned to Ellis ignoring Abbots utter shock and embarrassment. Which looked more like angry but theses two knew him very well.

“You take three and I’ll take the other three of her patients while lover boy takes the rest?” Ellis nodded in response before Jack finally spoke up.

“Woah rest of what smart asses?”

“Her patients because that girl was on the brink of death before yall left and I don’t even want to think of her state now”

Ellis shuddered at the idea she created in her head before walking off with Shen. Both of them leaving Jack at the nurses station with a small smile overtaking his expression.

“Way to go hot stuff I knew you still had it in yah” Myrna rolled up behind Jack and delivered a sharp smack to his butt with her hand before rolling away.

At this point, the stack of paperwork beneath your hand is meaningless. To you at least, of course. Obviously. Super important for the poor guy who's name is printed in block letters across the top. And his family. Of course.

Truthfully, though, you've just been sat staring at the clock for the last 45 minutes, glazed over eyes and face smushed against your fist, willing your head not to drop forward in a sleepy trance. The graveyard of red bull cans in front of you have unfortunately not worked their magic, and you point blank refuse to even touch the hot tar in the breakroom some heathen has labelled as coffee.

In order to actually finish the custody forms and crosschecking them with sampling logs, you reason that you need to force your brain into gear. Surely stretching your legs will suffice. And if that leg stretch concludes with a lap around the ER which may or may not coincide with a certain nocturnal chief attending's rounds then that will simply be the world's largest coincidence.

A certain nocturnal chief attending who you may or not be working up the courage to ask out for dinner. Eventually.

You've been given enough encouragement by your friends, the usual "What's the worst he could say? No?".

Yes, the worst he could say is no, actually.

Well, not technically. He could turn around and spew off insults and declarations of total disgust and hatred for you. But you figure that reaction would go against the months and months of cheeky smiles and winks brandished in your direction, the inside jokes and flirty comments he greets you with, the smiley faces (and the one-time scribbled out heart!!!) he leaves on the sticky notes littered on the forms he sends downstairs.

So, really, a no would be the worst thing. A no would confirm that you'd done it again- read too far into things, saw signs that were more like mirages- an oasis granting affection in the touch-starved desert that is your love life.

A no would mean having to look into the eyes of a man you have admired for longer than you'd care to admit and watch him reject you. Which he is more than entitled to, of course! You'd take it on the chin and respect his no.

Then lock yourself in your office and sob loud enough to wake the bodies housed on the other side of your office door.

Dr Abbot wouldn't be your first rejection, of course. Far from it. To be human is to be rejected, and you'd learned long ago that picking yourself back up is the only response you can have if you want to remain human.

It would be the first to stop you in your tracks, though, you think. Your professional lives are so entwined- you're the one he calls every time he needs a deceased patient moving, or a DOA evaluated, or legal forms need both of your approval. Even the of his residents who show interest in mortuary rotations have to speak to the both of you, and you always manage to cross paths at hospital galas and fundraisers.

Quite frankly, you would survive the fallout. You would move on, tell yourself that you're a grown woman who has before and will again face rejection. Your professional lives would be just the same.

Your heart is another matter entirely.

It doesn't care that you're a woman with nearly three decades of earthly experiences. Or that your career is logically more important than a silly infatuation with the silver haired grump upstairs.

A muscle so intent on latching onto said silver haired grump cannot possibly care about logic.

Apparently, neither does your brain- the logic machine- as your calf muscles burn through the stretch of the seemingly endless stairs up to the ER.

The floor is almost awkwardly quiet tonight, your trainers squeaking against the linoleum and the sound of your heavy-ish breathing making you wince slightly with every movement. Box breathing is all you can do to tamp it down as you make your way through half empty corridors, every couple of rooms housing a patient but otherwise unusually inactive. The witching hour usually brings a whole host of crazy energy whirlwinding through the ER doors.

Perfect conditions for the native species of nightcrawler who infest this floor.

"Spook. Over here."

Your head snaps to the right at the familiar cadence of your favourite night shift attending. (Only marginally more favoured than Ellis, if only for the fact that Jack doesn't raid your super secret stash of cookies.)

You've gone by that nickname now for longer than your own name. Spook, or Spooky- bestowed upon you by Jack himself after he spotted the poster in your office. The UFO and 'I WANT TO BELIEVE' matching with that of Agent Fox Mulder's from The X-Files.

You suppose there are worse things to be called.

And, admittedly, you probably do come across as marginally spooky what with being cooped up with the dead four days a week.

"Hi."

"Hi."

That lopsided smile. It reminds you of the angle of Orion's bow in your favourite constellation. And the spray of freckles across his face reminds you of the Milky Way. You're almost certain you can trace a path between them, make up your own constellation.

"How are things downstairs?" Jack prompts the conversation at the sight of your slightly glazed eyes. He doesn't want to go so far as to assume it's because of him, so he'll chalk it up to the hour and the steadily growing army of empty red bull cans he's sure are encroaching on your desk.

You rock back and forth on your heels, hands fumbling to do something- anything- in front of you, "Oh, you know. Peachy. Lively as always."

The smile returns, this time more of a purse of his lips, as if biting back a chuckle. At you or with you: you're not sure you want to know.

"As always." Reaching for the tablet in front of him, he starts off in the direction of the triage bays, "Fancy joining me on my rounds tonight, Spooky?"

"Oh, yeah! Can't promise I'll be much help- my expertise is more use for those patients who don't really need fixing anymore."

He looks over his shoulder at you, smirking as you stumble on your feet to rush after him. Like a puffin, he thinks, not for the first time. A very cute puffin.

"Mmm, I'm sure we'll find a use for you yet, Spook. What're you doing up here in the land of the living anyway?" He looks back down to his screen as he walks, content with the knowledge that you're by his side.

You look around the ER with wide eyes like you're seeing it for the first time (even though this probably marks the thousandth time).

"Hm? Oh, um, I…needed to stretch my legs. Thought I'd come up and grace you all with my presence." A hollow chuckle betrays you slightly and from the amused look Jack throws your way, he believes you even less.

Thankfully he lets you get away with the obvious lie, swiping through the charts to find the one he's searching for. He stops in front of a curtain and briefly announces his presence to the patient on the other side, giving them an additional second before gently pulling the curtain aside with a practiced smile. One you've been on the receiving end of countless times, the one you're sure is laced with calming properties. You've seen many a patient be talked down from ledges just with that smile; the one that says I'm here, I understand, I've got you, we'll do this together.

Jack brings himself down to the patient's level, seating himself on the rolling stool, "Mr Romano, I'm Dr Abbot- this is another of our doctors here at PTMC, do you mind if she observes our chat for a minute?"

The patient looks nervously towards you so you take that as a sign to introduce yourself, telling him your name, "I'm normally downstairs in the mortuary, it's nice to meet you up here!"

The facepalm Jack makes immediately after you finish speaking makes your heart jump. Mr Romano's head shoots towards Jack, eyes wide like dinner plates, "Mortuary?! What? I am dying?" His thick Italian accent reverbs off the walls as you wince and rush to placate him.

"No- no,"

"Mr Romano, everything is fine. My colleague is just brushing up on her bedside manner," Jack pointedly looks towards you though you can see the amusement in his eyes from here, "You came in with laceration to your thumb, that is all. Once it's stitched you'll be free to go. No one is dying any time soon."

His words seem to calm the man if only momentarily, so Jack uses the sliver of calm to inform him that a nurse will be in to stitch him up shortly before ushering you out of the bay and shutting the curtain behind him.

You walk to the nurses station with your hands covering your face, refusing to even look at Jack.

"How bad was it?" Your voice comes out mumbled from behind your palms.

Instead of the reprimand you were expecting, you hear a throaty chuckle which quickly dissolves into uncontrollable giggles. A warm hand comes up to grip your fingers, gently removing them from your face. The sight of Jack's laughing face sets off your own, his out of amusement and yours out of embarassment.

"God, Spooky. 'I'm from the mortuary'? Really?" His imitation of your voice only worsens both of your giggling.

"I didn't know what to say! I haven't had to speak to a living patient in years! God he must've thought I was the grim reaper or something." At this point, your quickly warming forehead is pressed to the cool surface of the nurses station.

Jack rounds the desk, still chuckling, to sit in a chair, "You say anything but that, sweetheart. Anything. Did you see his face? Poor guy."

You bring your head up to glower at him still laughing at your expense, "Yeah, keep it up, giggleshits."

That only makes him laugh harder. You can still hear him when you turn and start back down the corridor. The sooner you get back to your safe space with no talking and moving patients, the better.

"Aw, Spook, don't run off! We were just getting started!"

A backwards middle finger is all he receives in reponse.

His chuckling it still audible when you reach the stairs.

A week later, you're back in a very familiar position, only this time during normal people hours.

The dayshift proves a stark opposite to that of the night shift; you're sure you've almost run into at least four separate people in the two minutes you've been on the ER floor. You watch with darting eyes as patients and staff alike flit and scurry between rooms, codes are called, and an incessant hum seems to hover above everything.

There is significantly too much life and noise happening up here for your taste.

Robby had called you a few minutes ago saying he needed your assistance with moving a patient and you find him outside of the family viewing room, a somber smile on his face. Whilst you enjoy each other's company, you'd both much prefer if your professional meetings were kept to a minimum.

Over your years working with him, you've come to find Robby views death as sadness completely. You suppose it makes sense; his job is to help these people, to do everything he possibly can to nurse them back to health- or at least stability before another specialist can swoop in. He is the frontlines for any and all emergencies and so death to him is a failing. Personal and professional.

From your perspective, death is a process. All of us die, some of us at the very hospital you work at. It's your job to treat all of your patients with dignity and respect, making sure they each receive the best possible standard of care. You see death as a ritual, and you have a sacred purpose to take care of their physical body and appreciate the life they lived. If you stopped to grieve for every person you performed on, you'd be stuck in one place infinitely.

If anything, you now have a deep appreciation for your own life. The job just comes with the added bonuses of developing a strong stomach and dark humour.

"Hey, Spooky, thanks for coming up. Sorry for the craziness around here, you know how it is." His accompanying laugh is more of a mirthless breath through his nose.

"Dr Robby, no problem, haha..yeah."

No, actually, you don't know. The speed up here is miles ahead of the one you're used to.

To his credit, Robby doesn't allow the awkwardness to linger for too long, instead sweeping you into the room with a palm hovering over your mid-back.

Transport support is already waiting inside the viewing room as you set to work on the usual identification and verification processes, checking over the death notification paperwork and ID tag, removing the little remaining medical apparatus from the patient's body, and securing a chin strap to ensure both dignity and practicality. After you give the go ahead to the transport staff member, they help you move the patient into a bag and then with securing the body with the concealment gurney. You give Anton, the transport staff, a murmur of thanks before asking him to move the body downstairs using the back elevator and noting that you'll be down in a moment once Robby and you finalise paperwork.

You find Robby waiting outside the room, his chin titled towards his shoes in thought.

"Hey, all finished in there, I'll be heading down to process them in a minute."

His eyes meet yours, some of the heaviness from before replaced with the professionality all doctors have to master- especially when they are the Chief Attending of an city's emergency department, "Thanks, Spooky. You're an angel."

The toothy, too-wide grin you give back makes him smile even more. You never could take a compliment.

At the nurses station, Robby turns to you with both the paperwork you need to complete and an expression you recognise all too well. You've worked with him for too long not to know when Michael Robinavitch is scheming.

"…What? Do I have something on my face?" Your hand haphazardly sweeps at your mouth, praying the pesto pasta salad you brought for lunch isn't smeared across your chin.

"No, no. You look great. Just…a question, if you will."

Your eyes narrow in suspicion, "Hmm, why do I not like where this is going already?"

Robby chuckles, "God, Spooky, at least hear me out before you start accusing me of something."

"You have that look, Robinavitch. I know that look."

His eyes roll good-naturedly before they meet Dana's over the other side of the desk, her own spying on the two of you from above the glasses perched on the tip of her nose.

"I just wanted to ask if you'd put any more thought into that gala. Gloria's been on my ass about numbers and representing the hospital properly, putting on a united front, yada yada. 'S all bureaucratic bullshit, but someone's gotta do it."

Robby watches in thinly veiled amusement as your head tips back on a groan, "Fuck. I completely forgot." You look over at Dana, still watching curiously, for moral support, "Do I have to?"

She raises both hands in surrender, one holding a patient chart and the other the bright red hospital landline, "Hey, don't look at me, Spooks. I got nothin' to do with those bigwigs upstairs."

Unfortunately for you, your puppy dog eyes do not have the same effect on Robby as they do on Jack, "Put those eyes away, missy. Someone from your department has to go or Gloria will ride your ass so hard you'll be drowning in paperwork for the next year."

Robby's words make your whole face screw up in a cringe, "Please, don't ever put that image in my brain ever again."

He simply laughs out loud before fatherly patting you on the back, "You'd best send Gloria confirmation of your attendance." Handing you the final sheet of paperwork, he pauses as if remembering something important, "Oh, actually, you know who else is going? Jack. Huh, at least you won't be alone."

With that, he picks up a chart and heads towards a triage bay. His words make you pause: if Jack is attending then maybe the night won't be so bad, his presence might just make up for the painful amount of schmoozing with potential donors you're going to have to do. Seeing him in a suit will also make the brain melting act of socialising easier to stomach. Maybe you can even dress up nice to feel confident enough to ask him for dinner sometime. You wonder absentmindedly if your sister still has that formal dress from her friend's cousin's wedding sat in the back of her wardrobe.

When you look up, you realise how in your own head you were when you spot Dana smirking knowingly at you, "Don't. Even."

Both eyebrows raise in faux innocence, "My lips are sealed."

After three back to back shifts the last place you want to be right now is in a crowded, overly decorated banquet hall surrounded by the best doctors in the tri-state area, the wealthiest Pennsylvania has to offer, and staff who look like they also want to be anywhere but serving comically tiny hors d'oeuvres to stuffy old white men.

It'd taken your sister over an hour to convince you to leave the house in the dress you're wearing and, despite how good you felt when you first tried it on, you suddenly feel ridiculously out of place considering your day to day attire is usually frumpy scrubs, a hair net, and your comfiest shoes.

A small part of you- well, perhaps a large majority- is hoping you'll find Jack tonight and he'll be starstruck by your dress. That same part of you that has existed since you were a pre-teen and your love of rom coms was kickstarted, watching scenes of undercover princesses swaying down palace steps in a gorgeous dress and captivating the eyes and hearts of Chad Michael Murray and Heath Ledger.

It's a satin fabric in a rich plum colour, an asymmetrical neckline showcasing the oiled skin of one shoulder, boning across the mid-section to accentuate your waist and hips, and the rest falling in smooth pleats around your calves. The silver heels on your feet started hurting before you even got in the Uber here and you're almost 100% positive you lost bloodflow to your pinky toe around seven minutes ago. Grinning and bearing it seems the only option.

You've already made the rounds a couple of times, your schmoozing power running on empty to match the empty champagne glass you've been clutching like a lifeline instead of awkwardly fiddling with your hands as usual.

You're still yet to spot Jack amongst the crowd you think to yourself, and, as if by magic, there he appears. You spy him chatting with a group of donors you're yet to try and work some of your unusual charm with, their faces all alight with rapt fascination as he no doubt captivates them with his otherworldly charisma. He'll be regaling them with some story of his time overseas, or managing to spin a patient story into a subtle yet effective appeal for donations.

He looks as dashing as ever, even if you are only glimpsing him from behind; his deep slate suit stretches taut over broad shoulders, pants tailored to perfection, and his more salt than pepper curls perfectly coiffed. You hope he's missed a day or two of shaving. You love the stubble that grows in after only a short amount of time and have spent more time than is probably healthy imagining how the scruff would feel between your thighs.

Setting out to cross the bustling room to reach his side, the crowd he was previously entertaining seem to fall away with wide grins and pats to his back, leaving him stood alone with possibly the most gorgeous woman you have ever seen.

Your steps fumble slightly, not wanting to make a fool of yourself by marching over there when he's in conversation with someone else.

Especially not when he's smiling like that at her.

She's in a long sleek dress to match her long sleek hair and she looks so elegant you're unsure if she's even real. Of course he'd be smiling like that at her.

Her elegance doesn't bother you nearly as much, though, as the hand on his arm does. Her fingers are wrapped around the crook of his elbow in such a way that looks natural, familiar. And he's not rejecting it. Jack is standing there letting her paw at him, smiling at her in that way that says I'm listening, I'll always listen to you that you foolishly believed might just have been exclusive to you.

For just a minute- though it feels like an eon- you stand and watch them; how good they look together, how naturally they seem to fit together, how she throws her head back on a laugh and he watches the clean line of her throat. It feels like a car crash you can't look away from, though you know the only car crash is the nosedive your potential relationship with Jack just took off the Fort Pitt Bridge.

In the years you've worked with Jack, you've never once heard him mention a partner- you knew he was divorced, everyone at the Pitt knew that, but you had no idea he was seeing anyone. And, from the way they're stood together, they can't be anything but a couple. It makes you feel sick thinking about how many hours you must've accumulated flirting with Jack over the years. How he'd never shut it down- had played along, even. Once again, you feel like that same silly teenage girl again; awkward and a hopeless romantic, only to find out that the cute flirty guy next to you in biology class had been dating your friend since the beginning of junior year.

You feel stupid and small and really fucking uncomfortable in this dress that you wore for him.

Behind you, you hear someone call your name and, deciding you've seen enough, you turn from the smoldering remains that was your crush on Dr Abbot.

In turning away, you miss the way Jack's ears perk up completely at the distant sound of your name, swinging his head around the room in an attempt to find you and the sting he feels in his chest when he can't.

The pile of papers on your desk has officially reached critical mass.

You're at the point where one strong shove of your office door may result in bureaucratic disaster, however sorting and filing them properly would require a trip to the ER. The same ER in which you have been completely avoiding for the last two weeks due to the residence of a certain silver haired grump.

You'd received exactly one message from him at the end of last week (when you figure he finally caught on to the fact that you were quite obviously avoiding him);

Jack's Abs: Hey Spook, everything okay? Didn't see you at the fundraiser dinner, must've missed each other. Let me know if you want to come up and help with rounds again at any point. I'll make sure you don't frighten any patients half to death this time. - Jack

You'd only deigned to reply with a thumbs up emoji, to which you figure he must've guessed he'd done something wrong as he hasn't contacted you since.

In all honesty, you miss him. You miss the chats you would sneak together in the break room between lulls, you miss the way he would make any excuse to come downstairs to visit you, you miss the way he'd always have an energy drink chilling in the fridge for you- hidden behind the leftovers that have gone untouched for so long he's sure no one will bother to look behind them. You miss him when you see something funny on Instagram and you can't show him it, when normally you'd send it to him and watch him furrow his brows in old man confusion.

You've moped around so much for the past two weeks that even your assisstant, Sylvie, has been giving you shit for it.

"Girl, you've been slouching around here like a zombie for too long. Go talk to him!" She's sat in the chair on the other side of your packed desk, her feet propped precariously on one of the smaller piles of paper teetering on the edge of the cherrywood. You're slouched in your reclined office chair, head in your hands as you massage an incoming migraine from your temples.

"You should've seen them, Sylv- there was no way that wasn't his girlfriend. I feel so embarassed."

The whine in your voice makes Sylvie's eyes soften in sympathy, "Hun, there is no way that a man who looks at you like Dr Abbot looks at you has eyes for any other woman. Did you ask him if they were together?"

Shuffling your fingers apart, you peek up at her nervously, "…No?"

The eye roll you receive is expected, the tinfoil ball from her sandwich being thrown at your head, is not.

"Okay, well, if you're not going to take these up, I will." Sylvie begins precariously stacking papers in her arms and heads for your office door, "I'll be sure to tell Dr Abbot you asked after him."

All you can do is cover your face again and groan, slouching down even further into your chair.

It's your day off and you're still moping. Only now, you can mope from the comfort of your own home.

You've not even left the house today, even though you know definitely should've when you open the fridge door and all that's in there is a half-drunk carton of orange juice and a moldy punnet of cherries. The weather is another reason you haven't left the house today, the thunder and lightning and lashing rain mirroring the emotional deluge happening inside your head.

A tiny, insane, part of you thinks maybe you should risk a grocery run today. Should risk driving in the torrential rain if only for the fact that the grocery store is in PTMC's catchment area and any accident that may've happened to you on those rain-slick roads would've resulted in the potential for Jack to be the one taking care of you. You dismiss the thought as soon as it pops into your head, immediately apalled at yourself, and decide to just rot the rest of the night away on your couch. You're sure you have some stovetop popcorn hidden in a cupboard somewhere.

You're almost through Four Weddings and a Funeral, just about to reach Hugh Grant's famous love confession to Carrie in the torrential rain when you hear a pounding on your front door.

Immediately, you check your phone to make sure you didn't accidentally order a pizza in you zombie-like state and make some poor delivery driver make the trek to your house in the storm, only for another, much longer, knock to sound through your living room.

You hop up from the couch, fastening the belt of your robe around you tighter as you swing open the front door to be met with a very wet Jack Abbot.

"What the hell are you doing here?", You shout to be heard over the thunder rolling behind him, brows furrowing in desparate confusion.

Jack brings a hand up to swipe his dripping curls from his face, slicking them back only for the shortest at the front to stick to his temples, "You've been avoiding me for weeks!"

"So you show up at my house?! In a storm?!"

"I had no other choice!"

Looking at him dripping wet on your doorstep makes your defences wither faster than you'd like, "God, Jack, just- just come in. Come in. I'll get you some towels and something to wear." He lets out a breath of relief, making sure to keep his feet on your doormat as he removes his soaked shoes and jacket, trying to minimise the mess he is guaranteed to make. When you return from the towel cupboard, you find him standing sheepishly still in your doorway now with the door closed at least, "Come on, you can sit on the couch- I'll put towels down."

Whilst he busies himself with drying off, you go in search of the biggest sweatpants and hoodies you can find, hoping you have something buried in the back of your wardrobe, and when you get back your heart bursts out of your chest at the sight of Jack's wet t-shirt halfway off of his body, arms stretching backwards to rip it off. When his head is free of the soaked fabric, he catches your widened eyes, curls still damp and now ruffled, the skin of his chest and arms reddened from the cold.

"He-here," you have to clear your throat to speak a coherent sentence, "take these- they should fit. Hopefully." You all but toss the clothes at him and make an escape to the kitchen in a plan to bring him a warm drink and to put his own clothes in the dryer.

Jack takes the time to scan your living room, a space he's never been privy to before but always wondered about- wondered whether you like to keep things neat and minimalist or go all out with bright colours and clutter. From what he can see, it's very you. He loves it. Although he's not sure his opinions on interior design have any weight considering his own house has looked the exact same (if he had to pick a word to describe its aesthetic, he would choose showhouse, Robby would choose sad) since his divorce years ago.

"Black, one sugar." You place a coffee down in front of him, settling in opposite him with your own mug of no doubt something teeth-rottingly sweet that most likely no longer classifies as coffee.

"Thanks, Spook."

For the first time in all of the years you've known each other, the silence between you is awkward. It feels like there's an impenetrable barrier between the two of you, something tangible, something you can reach out and crush betwene your fingers. For the first time ever, you don't know how to talk to each other.

So, Jack takes the leap of faith.

"We need to talk, sweetheart."

The eyes you look at him with make his chest tighten immeasurably, there's hurt and guilt and longing and want burned into your pupils, so clear he can read them like his favourite book.

"You've been avoiding me, for a while now. Too long, really. And I just want to know what I did." Jack puts his coffee down and scoots forward on the couch, eyes wide in desperation, "Did I fuck up? I want to make it right, but I'm at a loss here, Spook. I miss us. I miss you."

"I don't know if you should be saying that, Jack. It's…inappropriate."

If it was possible, he's somehow leaning even farther forward, trying to get as close to you as he can whilst still respecting the clear space you've put between the two of you, "To who? We've always done this. It's been you and me since day one, Spooky."

"God, your girlfriend, Jack. Or partner- wife- whatever she is to you. I'm not coming between that, okay?"

Jack's eyes narrow in confusion, "Girlfriend? I don't have a girlfriend, or-or a partner or a wife."

The pit in your stomach widens, "You…don't?"

"Of course I don't. How could I when I have you? If you aren't filling any of those roles I don't want it." Out of all the expressions you've seen Jack Abbot wear, this one is a first. It's desperate, pleading, pure want.

"What about the woman in the black dress- from the fundraiser dinner? You two seemed…friendly." You can't even look at him as you say it, embarassment swirling in your chest.

"You mean Val? My sister's wife? She's on the board for the woman's clinic outside Presby. Spooky, she's family. I promise you. I'll get out the fucking family albums if you want me too, sweetheart." And god help you, you know Jack would never lie to you. Not about something like this.

"Oh."

The smile he gives you is one of hope and sympathy, "Yeah."

"Well…now I feel stupid."

Jack laugh is full of pity and amused exasperation, "Me too, Spook."

There's one thing still left to clarify, though, "Did you mean what you said before? About…me. Being your…girlfriend or whatever."

Jack's smile is megawatt now, "Oh, my silly girl, get over here."

In an instant, you're rounding the coffee table, and straddling Jack's lap. His hands reach to cup your face automatically, bringing it to down to meet his awaiting mouth. The kiss is desperate and searching, your tongues sweeping each other's mouths, dying to memorise the feel of each other.

"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry-" you pant between kisses, "I'm sorry I avoided you i just-"

"Shh, shh. 'S Okay, sweets. You're okay, I'm here now, hm?" Jack's hands are placating as they smooth over your body, gripping your curves, memorising the feel of your hips, "Now, I love this robe but I wanna see what's under it, yeah? That sound good?"

You nod frantically, aching to have his big hands touch your heated skin. He gently unties the knot, pushing the satin fabric from around your shoulders to pool at your feet. Instantly, his hands are going to your nipples poking from under thin material of your tank top, pinching and rolling and pulling. His mouth drops to envelop one through the fabric, teeth just and so nibbling at it before his tongue sweeps out to soothe. When he pulls away his eyes are heavy lidded at the sight of the wet spot on your tank and the outline of your swollen nipple even more prominent.

He looks up at you, your neck thrown back and whimpers pouring from you, "These tits, sweetheart. The things I've imagined doing to them."

You meet his eyes with your own hooded ones, "Yeah?"

"They're fucking perfect. Perfect for me." His fingers reach to pull the fabric of your tank down under your heavy tits, nipples jutting out proudly. Jack groans uncontrollably, mouth attatching to your tits once again like a man starved. Your hips works against his own, little shorts bunching up against the sweatpants you leant him, though you can feel the unmistakable bulge he's sporting.

"Where's your bedroom sweetheart?", Jack mumbles around a mouthful of your breast, his bite marks and spit leaving a trail across the delicate skin.

You point with a shaking hand in the direction of your room and, within ten seconds, he's pulling you up to stand so he can yank you down the corridor. Once he locates your bed, he shoves you down, standing between your parted legs as you prop yourself into your elbows. Jack takes you in, tits pressed together above the fabric of your top, tiny shorts hiding next to nothing, the outline of your perfect soaked cunt on display for him, your face already sweat slick and looking freshly fucked. He thinks you're the most gorgeous thing he's ever seen.

You watch with unconcealed lust as his rips the sweatshirt from over his head, pushes his sweatpants down, and reaches to remove his prosthetic leg. You watch that part with more interest- next time you want to be the one to do it for him. Once he's done, he leans against the bed, one of your ankles in each of his hands as he begins planting kiss after kiss up the side of your leg. Some are small pecks, others open mouthed, all whilst looking directly at you. Your jaw is touching your heaving chest at this point.

He finally gets to the apex of your thighs, the fat dimpling under his fingers as he places kiss after kiss over the fabric of your shorts, tongue coming out to poke at your clit, nose taking deep lungfuls of you. Your gasps and whimpers spur him on as he looks up at you, "Sweet girl, I want you to take these off for me."

You're nodding and hooking your fingers beneath the waistband instantly, hips lifting from the bed in what should feel an awkward move but doesn't as Jack keeps his eyes on yours- reassuring, guiding, loving. When the shorts are eventually hooked over one ankle, he slips them off and returns to face your cunt, weeping and leaking for him. Once he reaches what he's after he envelops your clit, nose smushing against the thatch of hair above your pussy, tongue sweeping across you, "God, Jack, oh my god-". For what feels like hours he suckles, kisses, licks, fucks you with his tongue. When he comes up for air, his face is glistening, the scruff you love so much completely doused in you.

Your hands grab at his curls, guiding him to where you need him most. His own hands come up to play with your tits, rolling and pinching, sometimes just grabbing handfuls of the plush flesh as if he needs something to ground him. You see his own hips working at the bed beneath him, unable to keep still at the sensation of completely devouring your cunt.

When he feels you beginning to reach the edge of your orgasm, he brings one hand down, rolling your clit beneath the pad of his thumb, his fingers dipping shallowly into your pussy, "Come on, sweet girl, come for me. You can do it, I've got you." Your hips are uncontrollable, writhing and rolling against him, your thighs clamping down on his ears as your first orgasm collides into you. It's less of a plunge and more of a tidal wave, one big wave and lots of slightly smaller jolts that pull you just as far under.

"Yeah, that's it. You're so pretty when you come, baby."

Jack unwinds his hands from your thighs when you release him, moving to his knees to crawl over you. His mouth brushes your stomach as he moves, the skin instantly tightening making him glance up at you as he leans down and presses a firmer kiss to the skin still covered by your tank top.

"You're beautiful. Don't hide from me. I know what you look like, Spook." He tenderly thumbs at your temple as he says it, looking between your eyes. The kiss he plants on the bridge of your nose brings a prickle to your eyes. Before any tears can fall, though, Jack is lining his hips up with yours, the tip of his cock just and so pressing at your hole, "You want me baby? Hm?"

"Yes, yes- please, please. Need it, Jack-" His lips cut you off from anymore begging.

"Okay, sweet girl, you're okay. You'll get it. You'll get it all."

With a deep groan, Jack pushes in in one fell swoop, and it feels like fireworks explode behind your eyes. Like finding the missing puzzle piece. Like you've finally found your person. He's still for a moment, his face buried in your neck and hands gripping your waist, whilst he gives the both of you a second to acclimate.

"Please, Jack."

At your words, he begins a rhythm that feels like your favourite song and the beat of both your hearts, and, listening to Jack's heartbeat now they might just be the same thing.

His hips meet the backs of your thighs, the very tip of his cock reaching the very deepest parts of you. The neatly trimmed hair above his cock catches deliciously on your clit. He's so thick you can feel him everywhere.

"Oh sweetheart. you're perfect. You feel so good. So wet- oh my god-" Jack murmurs into your ear, not holding back from moaning and whimpering right against it. He blanketing you with his full body and you've never felt so secure. Your hands are in his curls once again, nails blindly scratching at the base of his skull and travelling down to his freckled shoulders. You rake lines down his back just slightly, not enough to draw blood but enough to know you were there, "Yeah, baby- like that. Feels s'good," His pistoning hips continue to meet yours filthily, echoing through the room in a delicious symphony.

"Gonna cum with me this time, sweets. Come on, you're nearly there- can feel it.", With his thumb back on your clit, he continues fucking you towards your orgasms. You can once again feel that tidal wave approaching though your ears are muffled now, as if underwater, your head fuzzy and fucked out. Your brain whites out completely as you cum, leaking onto the matress below you, "Come on, baby, now. Cum for me. Yeah- yes. Ohh my god-", Jack's whimpers mix with your own until you're creating a perfect harmony, his hips still fucking you through both of your orgasms, and, though they're slowing, they're no less intense.

Your ears are ringing by the time you come back down to Earth, Jack's heavy breathing the first thing you tune back into, "Oh, you're so perfect. My perfect girl. I love you." His tiny kisses are pressed to the skin of your cheeks, nose, lips, forehead- anywhere he can reach.

You giggle up at him, still spacey and fucked out and exhausted. But happy, so so happy, "I love you, too."

When he chuckles back at you through a kiss, his teeth pressing to your lips, you can't help but feel like the luckiest girl in the world.

A couple of hours later, with the storm still raging outside, you're huddled with Jack under fresh bedding and the TV playing some random true crime documentary. You're propped against your headboard with Jack nestled into your bare chest, and your nails scratching at the skin of his freckled back.

"Do you not see enough of this shit at work, Spooky?", Jack asks as an autopsy is described on screen.

"Hm, yeah. But I don't get to do all the cool forensics stuff normally, so."

He seems to take the answer, turning his head back towards the television. Leaving you to once again trace the constellations between his freckles.

You think from here you can just make out Orion and his bow.

the following morning you'd woken up early, before the sun had even rise to make him a warm meal.

the snow had been falling for days, making it hard for you to reach the military base. you clutched the lunchbox to your chest, your fingers numb from the fierce wind. 

here you were now, fidgeting with your hands, as you slowly approached the base. you had been here before, once, when simon forgot some urgent documents in his office at home and asked you to deliver them.  

the guard at the gate barely glanced at you before exclaiming "training yard's to the left," he said, his voice bored "lieutenant is probably there."

you thanked him with a whisper and made your way through the gates. 

you spotted some recruits as you came to the proximity of the field.

"excuse me," you called softly, clearing your throat. "i'm looking for lieutenant riley."

a young soldier turned, his eyes scanning you from head to toe, probably wondering what were you doing in a place like that. he was taller than you, double your size, but not as big as simon, and his piercing eyes made you shiver. 

"and you must be?" the soldier sneered, his tone dripping with arrogance. "do you think anyone can meet him?"

"i-i'm here to bring him his lunch," you said, showing him the bag that was held tight to your chest.

the soldier turned around, exchanging a glance with his friend. "his lunch? you his personal errand girl?"

the other recruit laughed, joining the teasing. "im sure lieutenant doesn't need a little thing like you bringing him food. he's got proper food here. not whatever home cooked rubbish you've got in there."

your cheeks flushed, heat rising to your face. "it's not uhm... like that. he forgot it this morning. i just wanted to-" you began to stutter, avoiding their mocking gaze. 

"you wanted to what? speak louder won't ya?" the first soldier stepped closer, leaning down to reach your eye level "a stupid girl who can't even make a simple sentence without stuttering wants to see him? you think you're special?"

"i-i'm his wife," you managed to say but you could feel your eyes begin to well up.

the soldiers stared at you for a moment, then burst into laughter. the sound was loud and mocking, echoing through the corridors. "right," the first one said, wiping a fake tear from his eye. "and i'm the captain. nice try, love. lieutenant riley doesn't have a wife. everyone knows that."

you wanted to correct him but got quickly interrupted.

"look, sweetheart," the second recruit cut in, "we don't have time for this. he's a busy man." he gestured vaguely to the gates "you need to leave. now."

"b-but I'm telling you the truth," you said, your voice trembling. "i'm n-not lying."

the first soldier rolled his eyes. "you're not authorised to be here," he said, his voice hardening. "if you don't leave on your own, we'll have you escorted out."

"i-i have a pass," you said, fumbling in your pocket. "i have a visitor's pass. see?" with shaking hands, you held your pass.

the soldier snatched it from your hand, glancing at it briefly before tossing it to the ground. "probably stolen," he said dismissively. 

"get the fuck out now." the second soldier said, as he grabbed your arm and began pushing you toward the gate. 

you stumbled, falling down on your butt, then the gate was slamming shut behind you.

you stood there, frozen. you reached for your phone to call your husband but it wasn't there. in a hurry to leave the house, you left it on the kitchen counter.

this is why ghost always tells you to be more careful with your belongings. 

"clumsy little girl." was what simon would often call you.

the snow continued to fall, piling up around you. you were going to freeze out here. 

you were so cold you could barely hear a distant voice calling your name.

the voice was low and behind his mask you saw a strangely familiar face. you lifted your head, your vision blurry with tears and snowflakes, and found yourself staring at a bearded man. his dark eyes were the only thing you could see.

"oh, john." you breathed, and then you were sobbing. "i...they didn't believe me...i couldn't...i just wanted to bring him lunch and they-"

"hey, it's alright," he said, his voice surprisingly gentle. he stepped forward, shrugging off his heavy coat and draping it over her shoulders. it was too big, swallowing you whole, but it was warm. "come on. let's get you inside."

he led you through the gate once again, past the recruits who had just thrown you out. price didn't say a word to them, but the look he shot them held a lot of warnings. 

the captain guided you to a chair, sat you down, and knelt in front of you. 

"are you hurt?" he asked, checking for any possible injury.

you shook your head, scared your voice would betray you. "j-just c-cold. r-really cold."

price's eyes hardened. "i'll take care of it."

he pulled out his phone and called simon.

the recruits were still in the yard when ghost appeared, and the shift in the atmosphere was immediate. his mask was pulled tight, but it did nothing to conceal the fury radiating from his posture.

"which one of you," he said, his voice low and threatening, "did it?"

the first recruit, the one who'd laughed at you, tried to play it cool. "lieutenant, there was some woman trying to get in, claimed to be your wife. i mean its ridiculous, uh? but i handled it."

"you handled it," ghost repeated, with a nod; his voice flat, emotionless. "you fucking handled my wife."

the colour drained from the recruit's face. "sir, i didn't, we didn't know-"

"i will deal with you later." simon spat out, not sparing them another glance.

he crossed the yard in a few long strides, his hands shaking with fury. he found you in the common room, wrapped in price's coat. you were still clutching the lunchbox, and the sight of it, the sight of you being so pitiful, nearly made him lose the control.

his hands found your waist, and then you were pulled into his arms, crushed against his chest so tightly you could feel the frantic beating of his heart. he buried his face in the crook of your neck, the fabric of his mask damp and warm against your skin, and wrapped his arms around you like he was afraid you'd dissolve if he loosened his grip even a bit.

he pulled you into his arms, crushing you against his chest. 

"sweetheart," he breathed, the word cracking somewhere in his throat. "i'm sorry. fuck."

"it's okay," you whispered, your fingers clutching his shirt. "y-you're here."

"no, it's not alright." he pulled back, cupping your face in his hands, his thumbs brushing away your tears. "i will never, ever let that happen again."

he pressed his forehead to yours, his eyes closed. his fingers were stroking your cheeks, trying to warm you. 

he scooped you up, cradling you against his chest, and carried you toward his quarters. his arms were strong and steady, as you whimpered from the cold.

"price," he called over his shoulder, "round them up. i'll deal with them properly later."

the door to his quarters closed behind you, and simon set you down gently on his chair. he knelt in front of you, his hands working to unzip your coat, to peel off the wet layers. 

"bastards," he cursed under his breath. "i'll kill them all."

you flinched, but were too exhausted to speak, so you let him wrap you in his clothes, and hold you until the shaking stopped. wrapped by simon's thick scent and his body warmth, you soon fell asleep from the exhaustion.

outside, the recruits stood shivering in the yard, watching the snow pile up around their boots.

ghost quickly crossed the yard, his face a mask of cold fury, and grabbed the first recruit by the throat.

simon's fist quickly connected with the soldier's jaw, a sickening crack echoing through the silent yard. then he turned to the second one, the one who'd grabbed your arm.

"your turn." the man tried to run, but price was there, blocking his path. ghost caught him by the collar, dragging him back, and drove his feet into his stomach. one kick, two kicks, until he collapsed, unconscious, into the snow.

"get them off my base," he said to john.

You snorted into your glass, staring at the screen. The wine gave you a reckless surge of courage, and your thumbs moved before your brain could filter them.

You: you gonna show me how to use it?

His reply came back within seconds.

Jack: Yeah. My place tomorrow?

…

So that’s how you were here. On Jack Abbot’s lap, writhing as his thumb guided a small, buzzy, impossibly effective vibrating bullet directly against your center. His hand was around your hip, holding you steady while his hard length pressed hot against you through the fabric of his sweatpants.

"Told you the other one was overrated." he murmured against your neck, his voice raspy.

You let out a breath, hands clutching his shoulders as you rolled your hips into his palm.

You were beyond scared of getting one. You knew exactly why too, losing your virginity had not been nearly as fun as all your friends made it out to be, sex hurt. When you told your girlfriends this they looked at you a little funny and asked maybe he didn’t do it right, it wasn’t exactly supposed to be painful, not the whole time anyway. So you did a few experiments of your own, cause maybe they were right and the guy just i don’t know did it wrong?

You bought a toy, a not too big but average to smaller sized dildo, online as going in store was too much to handle. And one night when your college roommates were out, you tried using it but it hurt just the same, you even tired just using your fingers but that wasn’t much better. From then on for years, you avoided sex as much as you could. All subsequent boyfriends who managed to persuade you into it just told you it'd be “Much better with me trust me baby” and it never really was. 

When you bring it up to one of your friends again, they point something out that you had been trying to avoid thinking of. “Hey, isn't one of your dads friends a doctor or something? Why haven’t you asked him about it?” oh that guy. Yeah the one you are kinda a little too attracted to who’s not just your fathers friend but his best friend, who makes your brain short circuit each time he calls you sweetheart? That one. Yeah you’d rather not talk about how sex is painful to the older man, who is the closest person to your father. You just might have to though if you ever wanna actually enjoy sex in your life. 

When you see Jack a few days later for your dads weekly dinner night he hosts, you manage to pull him away telling your dad it’s private girly medical related questions, he shuts up shortly after that. 

“What's up kid you okay?” Jack asks, concern evident in his voice. You rarely asked him anything medical and he was a bit worried you’re about to ask him how long is it normal for a woman to go without getting her period. “How…” you squeak out. Oh god here it comes. Before you start again you clear your throat. “How um common is, you know pain during sex…” the word sex leaves your lips in a meek and quiet tone, Jack tries his best not to chuckle as to not embarrass you further, but he’s happy it's not the question he was expecting. “Pretty common kid, at least the first time” he explains calmly, his casual demeanor easing your anxiety only a bit. “And how about every time?”

The idea of you having sex multiple times shouldn't be making Jack's chest ache the way it is, you’re a young beautiful girl after all, he tries telling himself it’s only cause it’s apparently painful and he cares for you. This time he straightens up a bit, “if the guys aren’t being rough, it's less common, it shouldn’t be every time” he watches as your eyes go a little wide and shake your head no in response to the first half of his statement. “Have you had an exam lately kid?” This is a purely professional question so it shouldn’t feel as dirty as it does coming out of his mouth.

“I um normally cancel them” Jack can only sigh out in a bit of frustration. “You should really get them regularly sweetheart” he misses the way your thighs lightly squeeze together at the use of the nickname. “I’m scared s’ all, anything going um inside hurts and doctors offices only make me more nervous” you explain. He smooths a hand over your hair, sympathy lacing his voice. “it’s okay i don’t mean to make you feel bad about it kid i swear” “How-” he stops himself, his eyebrows furrowing as if he was debating something in his head. “What?” you prompt, trying your hardest to not buckle at the knees from the way he’s practically petting your head. Physical touch is a quite rare thing between you too minus a few hugs on birthdays or pats on the back. “How about I give you one?’ oh sweet jesus that sounds wrong. He clears his throat, his face a little flush now at his own words but he doesn’t backtrack. “I’m a doctor, that you know, so it’s less scary” “No appointment needed if that makes you more comfortable” as you are processing his words he continues on. “I could do it at your apartment, where ever you feel most comfortable”

Your throat shouldn't feel as dry as it does, but the idea of Jack examining your pussy makes your head spin and slick settle between your legs a little. Maybe you should just see a regular random doctor, not one you have a wildly inappropriate crush on. You leave him with a small “Thank you, I'll think about it” and run off with the excuse of using the bathroom. You leave before Jack that night without much of any goodbye to him, he tries not to dwell on it, he really hopes he didn’t upset you.

You however dwell for days on Jack’s suggestion. Without the underlying nerves you feel because of being attracted to him, it is a good idea. You’d feel far more comfortable, maybe too comfortable being examined by him rather than a doctor you hardly know. You don’t bring it up to anyone as you’re too embarrassed but you think about it for days. When you get a reminder for the last gyno appointment you were brave enough to make, you cancel it without another thought and text Jack. 

All he does is thumbs up your message but for the next few hours you are anxious as all hell while waiting for him to knock on your door. You had given yourself the time both to calm down but also clean your apartment. Even though he was literally coming over to give you a vaginal exam and wouldn't care what your place looked like, you wanted it to be neat. Even if this was going to be probably the weirdest event in your life to date.

You are startled out of your train of thought by a knock at the door, you glance at the clock — 3pm exactly. Damn older men and their punctuality or was it a doctor thing? Shaking your head you nervously make your way to open the door, greeting Jack with a little awkward wave. He chuckles softly, the sound calming you as you step back from the open door to invite him in. “It’ll be alright, i’ll be gentle kid” his voice runs over your skin leaving behind goosebumps. You don’t know what you’re more nervous over, the expected pain of the actual examination or, the idea of Jack's hands on you, his fingers in you. 

Without wasting much time Jack settled into a semi professional but still comforting balance as he puts down the small bag of stuff he needs on the floor of your living room. You appreciate his effectiveness, as he tells you to sit on your couch facing him. You listen and watch as he sits on top of your coffee table. “This will be a little awkward because we are here and not a hospital, so I don't have a few things sweetheart” he starts to explain. “The no gown won’t be too hard, you have a skirt on so if you could just take off your underwear i can have access without-” he paused a moment as if thinking “leaving you too indisposed” the way he snaps a pair of blue latex gloves on shouldn’t be making as wet as it is, fuck. 

“Can-” you stutter out, your face hot but he seems to pick up on what you’re asking, nodding softly he turns his head away to give you some semblance of privacy. Bunching up your skirt you hook your fingers into the waistband of your slightly soaked panties and pull them down your legs. You kick them under the coffee table so they’re out of sight and tap Jack on the shoulder, he shakes his head softly at your shyness before turning to face you again. 

“Put your feet up either side of me on the table, won’t be the same as stirrups but close enough” tugging at the end of your skirt to cover yourself a bit more you do as he says and place your feet up flat on the low table. He adjusts them slightly, grabbing your foot one at a time and slides them a bit so they are more half off not so far back. “Scooh more to the edge of the couch kid, lean back ‘n tilt your hips up a lil more f’ me” the way you listen so well to Jack has him smiling softly at you and muttering out a small “Atta girl” 

He pressed lightly around on your abdomen through your shirt and skirt, eyes glued to your face gauging your reactions. “No pain or tenderness when I do this, right?” when you shake your head no he stops. “My hand is gonna go under your skirt for a second okay?” your face grows hotter and you nod, your voice has yet to find you again but so far nods are an effective enough communication with him. He reaches down between your legs but only presses around again, this time he is much closer to your pussy but he remains on the outside, pressing over the mound of it and on your pubic bone. “No pain?” Once again your head shakes side to side. His hand pulls away, your eyes follow his movements as he reaches down to grab a small bottle out of his bag.

He holds it but doesn’t do anything with it yet, his eyes find yours again “This next part i have to put my fingers inside, that okay sweetheart?” you gulp softly, nodding yes slowly as your nervousness grows again. “That’s the part that us- usually hurts” you explain in a small voice. It’s Jack's turn to nod now, "Penetration?” you let out a ‘mhm’ in agreeance as he squeezes the clear substance onto his pointer finger. “This is lube to make it easier and I’ll go slow, only one finger” his other hand reaches around your leg to touch the back of your calf, rubbing soothing lines up and down the muscle. “If you’re relaxed it might not be as painful” he explains, waiting on your go ahead before reaching down under your skirt once again. 

Pushing his lube coated index finger through your folds the tip of it finds your entrance, he gauges your face, when you nod again he proceeds by pushing it inside. 

Your sharp intake of air makes him stop once only the first bend of his finger is inside. “Come on, relax f’ me sweetheart” his low honey dipped voice makes your body go a bit lax, he inches his finger forward again and when you show no sign of pain he goes all the way til it's completely inside. “How’s that kid?” he sounds as breathless as you feel but you try to ignore it. “A little pain” you squeak out. “Give it a second, relax and it might go away”

“Don’t know how to relax more” you whine out, the sound going straight down Jack’s spine and up again, he shivers a bit and wills it away before it travels further south. “I’m gonna try something…do you trust me sweetheart?” you’re already nodding again in response before he fully finishes his question. 

Bringing his thumb up he parts the lips of your pussy til it finds your clit. You gasp out and slightly scare him, “That hurt?” “No no m’ sorry surprised me is all” you mumble out, biting your lip to hold in any more noises from getting free, like an accidental moan. Jesus christ why did you think this was a good idea again? If you had to bet you’d say you were soaking his gloved finger, even with the sting you felt from it inside, it felt good at the same time. You never even reached this type of feeling with your own fingers.

His thumb on your clit presses down lightly and starts rubbing in circles, you let out a small little sigh that makes Jack smirk a bit. “There you go honey, come on” “Un-tense your shoulders” your body listens almost instantaneously “Good girl” you can’t help the whimper that comes out at his words, he doesn’t say anything in response. “Feel any better?” he prompts, his eyes remain on your face, no matter how bad he wants to peek under your skirt to watch the way your little bud twitches under his touch. “Mhmm a bit” you answer softly, trying to push away the odd feeling bubbling up in the pit of your stomach. 

“Can I put in another finger, we’ll see how that feels?” he whispers, he definitely has enough information that he thinks he knows what’s wrong already but you don’t need to know that. “Yeah” you pant out, shaking your head a little too eagerly, if Jack notices he doesn’t say a word. With ease his middle slips in alongside his pointer, his thumb still circling your clit. “No pain honey?” the motion of your head once again answers his question. “Wanna try something else…can I move my fingers sweetheart?” 

“Please” you plead, head to fuzzy to care how desperate you sound. Slowly pulling his fingers back he watches your face as he pistons them back in, repeating the motion. “That feel good?” “Mhm no pain, fuck! feels really good” you whine out, your hips now bucking up against his fingers. He speeds up, still waiting to see if it hurts or if you stop him. “Jack” you moan out, his cock throbs in response. 

“Yeah kid?” “Need- Mm” you cut yourself off, pinching your lips in a line and tilting your head back. “Nuh-uh come on honey, tell me what ya’ need” he prompts, curling his fingers up to hit a different spot inside you that has you letting out a pornographic noise you didn’t know you were even capable of. “Need-” you huff out, before he stops you “Look at me when you say it, come on kid” “Use your words”

Lifting your head you look into Jack’s eyes, his breath hitches at the sight of your glazed over lust filled eyes, batting your eyelashes you start again. “Need more” you sob. His stomach just about hurts now from how hard he is in his jeans that feels all too tight. “Yeah? What more honey? Another finger or something else?” he asks, consciences be damned he’s not gonna leave you hanging even if your old man would fucking kill him if he ever found out about this. “Somethin’ else please” you whine, not even knowing what more you want. Jack however seems to when he takes his free hand off your calf and lifts your skirt, his head ducking under it. His fingers don’t stop positioning in and out of your slick cunt even if you squeal a bit at his motion. The noise morphs into a moan, your body melting into the couch when his warm tongue pokes out and makes contact with your pussy, licking at your pussy. “Still feel good kid?” he mumbles out, before his thumb leaves your bundle of nerves only to be replaced by his mouth as he sucks at it. 

“Yeah- Yeah feels s’ good” you breathe out, letting go of your skirt, he grabs at your one leg, lifting your foot off the table placing it over his shoulder, prompting you to do the same with your other before his fingers slip out of your pussy. 

You whine at the loss, “Jackkk” making him chuckle softly against you. “Hang on sweetheart” he coos as he uses both hands to grab at your hips, pulling you up and half way off the couch to get you closer to his mouth, lapping at you hard splitting your folds with his pointed tongue before sucking at your clit. “Ah- Ahhh ooh fuck” you wail out, your hands frantic to steady yourself. One finding purchase on his shoulder before sliding down his back under his shirt where your nails scratch at his skin. The other holding on for dear life to the edge of your couch cushion, your legs tighten a bit around his head. 

“Holy shit” you whisper out in breathless disbelief, the odd feeling from before coming back to quickly build in the pit of your stomach. Jack's large hands cupping your waist squeeze at your flesh, as he shakes his head side to side a little, flattening his tongue against you. Your thighs burn a bit at the friction of his stubbly face rubbing against them. He moves back to harshly sucking at your clit, your pussy and his mouth coated in his spit as he practically slurps at your juices.

“Huu- shit” “Wait wait! Jack- mhm feels like m’ gonna pee” you try pushing at his head to stop him, even if you desperately didn’t want his mouth off you. That feeling in your stomach was teetering on the edge. “Ya’ don’t have to pee sweetheart, that’s a orgasm you feel” he grumbles out, the explain making your hand ease up from pushing instead it rakes through his curls “S’ okay cum for me kid” 

“Promse s’ okay” you whine out, staring down at his head between your legs. “Yeah, you can do it” “cum f’ me it’s okay honey” "Promise it’ll feel good, no pain” his reassure is all you need to let your high wash over you, legs shaking on his shoulders, “There we go, fuck” he moans out. Your back arching as you cum on his tongue with a loud wanton moan filling your apartment coupled with his praise, “Atta girl, sweetheart” “Such a good girl f’ me” he laps at your cum. “Taste so fucking sweet, like i knew ya’ would” he mumbles out, that one you think was meant more for himself.  

Managing to reluctantly pull his head from between your soft thighs, Jack used his hold on your hips to place your body back onto the couch. You stare at him wide eyed when you notice his face all wet, covered in you. “Got somethin’ on my face kid?” you nod meekly. He chuckles and pinches at the collar of his shirt to bring it up and wipe at his mouth. “No pain after?” he asks. “No, never done that before” you whisper out, flicking your head down to where your skirt now covered your puffy but satisfied pussy. 

“Just needed an older man huh sweetheart, help ya’ relax a little and the pain melts away” he states, reaching down to rub at your knee. “Fucking little boys” he tsks but your eyes are glued to the large bulge in between his thick thighs. You’d have to be extra relaxed to take that monster on…

It doesn’t even get any better like you sort of hoped maybe it would when he returns from his short sabbatical. You thought that maybe him taking a breather away from the hospital, away from the stress of being a boss. Plus the apparent irritation you caused that he could come back more level headed. Evidently as you sit on an empty patient bed being berated by him for being ‘so dumb’ that you messed up a few charts and missed important information, nearly losing a patient in the process — you realized you were wrong. “Im just- I’m having an off day Robby alright, Im sorry” you groan out “I’ve already apologized to you, to the patient, to damn near everyone at this point for it so…lay off” you hiss, clenching your jaw and squeeze your hand into a fist, pushing your nails into your palm in an attempt to ease your anger. 

He scoffs out and you watch his face contort in a way you haven’t really seen before, stalking his way over to you til he is pushing his way between your legs that dangle off the bed, getting in your face. You try to not let the proximity affect you but it’s hard when a scent so distinctly him fills your nose, hints of whiskey and leather underneath the antiseptic and hand sanitizer smell. He plants his hands either side of your body on the bed, effectively cagging you in and a small fear runs through you that you’re about to get fried as you take in Robby's scrunched face, his eyes full of anger, his lips pulled in a scowl. “You can’t have a ‘off’ day in the ER, lives are in your hands and you fucked up, do you get that?” His voice comes out harsh and deep, enunciating each word as if you couldn’t understand him. “That man could’ve died” he continues on – “What’s got you distracted anyway, your little boyfriend break up with you or somethin’ ??” he guesses not having any clue he hit the target dead center in an aggravating way. You feel your face drop from your angry expression into a small pout and open your mouth but before you can jump to your own defense, he keeps on. “I don’t care, I don't care what it is, you don’t bring that shit into the ER, thought i taught ya’ better than that” He shakes his head and pulls away. He moves to stalk off and let himself cool off a bit but his ears prick up at the words you mumble under your breath. “If screaming at me every other week after my R1 year counts as teaching sure” 

He stomps out of the room, letting the sound of the glass door slamming shut behind him echo in the cold empty white room. You sulk out of the room, your head down as you walk to your locker to grab your bags. You avoid Dana’s motherly concerned gaze and Samrias sympathtic one as you walk out of the hospital to head home. You didn’t have any charts to do anyway, Robby took them all away when scolding you saying ‘it’s better he finish them so you don’t screw anything else up any further’. It wasn’t even the end of your shift just yet but you could care less as you drive home, tightly gripping the steering wheel with tears threatening to fall from your eyes. You sniffle and shake your head, you weren’t about to waste any more tears than you already had on that bastard. 

Suddenly you blink and you are home, you might have gone a little over the speed limit in your anger you can’t exactly remember or give a fuck currently. Turning the doorknob to your apartment you open your door, throwing your bags on the floor and your keys on your end table as you walk in. Being too exhausted and mentally drained to change, you start to strip out of your dirty scrubs while heading to the kitchen for food, leaving a trail of clothes behind you until you're left in your bra, panties and socks. Letting out a forced exhale of air before taking a deep breath in, you attempt to regulate your nervous system and finally calm down. Your aching body catching up to you slowly as you open the fridge and search for the easiest and least effort form of nutrition you could consume. Spacing out a bit as you stare off into the fridge the cool breeze brushing across your exposed skin that blooms in goosebumps in response as your trance is interrupted by a knock. Cursing out in a whispered tone and frantically looking for something to cover up with, your eyes catch on your bathroom robe thrown atop your clean basket of clothes that sat on the couch. ‘Thank you, you lazy bitch’ you laugh softly to yourself as another knock comes. Quickly pulling on the fluffy covering and leisurely tying it closed the best you can as you rush to the door when a third knock fills your ears, yanking it open you bark out a “What?!” to the person on the other side. 

Immediately you straighten back up and cross your arms under your unbeknownst to you slightly exposed breasts, “What could you possibly want Robinavitch?”

Robby stands at your door, still clad in his scrubs though his signature zip-up covered his top half now, backpack thrown over his shoulder. His hair is more tousled than when you left as if he couldn't stop running his hands through it and his eyes seem to find the door frame quite interesting. “Dana said when you left it looked like you were gonna cry” he explains as if it’s enough; “And? What about it?” you prompt with a curt nod, growing more impatient and irritated. “She chewed me a new one and told me i better pull my head out of my own ass and apologize” he murmurs out like a disgruntled little kid who got scolded. An abrupt chuckle leaves your lips vividly hearing Dana’s voice in your head saying those exact words to him, “This is your sorry excuse for an apology you can’t even say the words let alone look at me” you huff out and it causes Robby to finally look up at you and the annoyed look in his eyes dulls a little at the sight of you.

The front of your robe is fairly open exposing your lace bra that is perfectly cupping your breasts and a sliver of your leg and the lace of your panties that hugs your hip bone. “I’m sorry” he grits like it physically hurts as he reluctantly peels his eyes away from your figure, flicking them back up to your face. “See, now was that so hard?” you coax in a mocking sweet baby voice making the older man’s blood boil. “Should be illegal ya’ know to have the brat mouth you’ve got with a body like that” he grunts under his breath his eyes falling down to your body the same time your own do while his fingers twitch at his sides. God the things he’d do to you if only you shut the hell up for once. 

“Saying it as if you’ll do something ‘bout it” you scoff in a challenging tone, stepping closer to the man you were supposed to be mad at. “What?” he spits out in slight disbelief, all the air feeling as if it just left his lungs, he can’t stop himself from stepping further into your space. “You heard me” you roll your eyes and before you can say another word, Robby grabs ahold of the shittily tied knot of your Robe and pulls your body to him. Crashing his lips against yours in a heated mess of anger and teeth, smirking into the kiss when you don’t hesitate to kiss back. Waddling the two of you back fully into your apartment, kicking the door shut behind him he drops his shoulder letting his bag join yours on the floor. Your fingers making quick work at his hoodie zipper and pulling it off him. 

You gasp against his mouth when large rough hands sneak under your robe palming at your ass and using that leverage to tug you flush to him. With zero space between your bodies you can feel his cock chubbing up and growing harder against your bare skin. “Gettin’ hard all over just some kissing?” you tease and pull away from his mouth causing Robby to grunt. “Oh trust me sweetheart i plan to do more than kissing, gotta do something about this damn mouth” he coos mockingly, his eyes drifting down to your parted lips. Bringing his hand up to your face he pushes at your mouth with his thumb. His eyes darkening when you instantly open up and wrap your lips around it, sucking it seductively. “Got a plan then huh? You do this often old man, fuck your residents?” you ask, searching for an answer you’re not entirely sure you want. “Just the ones very blatantly obsessed with me” he remarks with an arrogance that makes your chest hurt in a way you don't care for. “M’ not obsessed with you” you slur around his thumb as he pushes it down on your tongue in defiance, “Yeah? Remember when you’d follow me round like a lost puppy your R1 year” his tone is cocky as he chuckles at the memory, eyes still locked on you lapping at his thumb, coating it in your saliva. “Was so cute, this pathetic thing glued to me desperate for my praise, now she’s just turned into a reckless brat” Your eyes burn with the desire to well up as his words hit you and you bite down on his thumb in retaliation. Jerking his hand away from you in response, you bring your own hand up, slapping him fairly hard across the cheek. Why did he have to ruin every damn thing.

The sound bounces off your walls, Robby rubbing at his cheek trying to ease the sting blooming on his face, his eyebrows scrunched in anger and confusion. “What the fuck was that for, huh slut?” he growls, grabbing ahold of your face, digging his fingers in and squeezing your cheeks hard. “I hate you” you bite out with your eyes narrowed at him, yet you make no fight when he pulls your face to his. Aggressively pressing his lips to yours again, licking into your mouth and swallowing every little sound he can pull from you. “Yeah, yeah sweetheart, can hate me all you want n’ still fuck me” you sniff softly to fight back the tears before wrapping your arms around his neck and kissing back with fever. “Now where the hell is your bedroom?” he mumbles out, pulling at the loose tie to your robe letting it fall from your body, it joining the group of all the other clothes scattered around. 

Grabbing onto the front of his scrub top you drag him with you as you walk backwards heading towards your open bedroom door. Along the way Robby starts to rid himself of his remaining layers, kicking his shoes off one by one. “Hope this mouth is good for something other than bitchin’’ don’t wanna disappoint me now do princess?” every term of endearment that left his mouth were dosed in condensation. “You’ll just have to see old man” you work at untying his scrub pants, yanking them down his legs, he steps out of them and pulls away from the kiss. You stare at him with swollen spit coated lips and glassy eyes as he tugs off his scrub shirt and under shirt. Slick settles in your core at the sight, his muscular chest covered in thick hair matching his arms, his stomach less toned but the pudge to him does nothing to lessen your desire for the stupid man. Finally making it to your room he is left in only socks and black boxers that stretch across his thick thighs and are extra tight around the bulge of his aching cock. Your mouth watering at the sight, He is stood half away across the room from where you stand frozen, still staring. Beckoning you over with a wave of his pointer finger he points down at the floor in front of him. With a short rolling of your eyes, you move to walk forward but he stops you by putting up his palm, “Crawl sweetheart, come on” he coaxes as he sits down on the edge of your bed. “Fucking hate you, Bastard” You murmur out a few more curse words and profanities aimed at him before dropping to your hands and knees, slowly and sensually crawling over to him, your face hot with embarrassment. 

“Good puppy” he exclaims in faux appreciation when you land at his feet and sit down on your calves. You really hate just how much you yearn for more of his praise, fake or not. You’ve seemed to forget when the last time he threw it your way so willingly was. Trailing your hands up his legs, rubbing at his knees, running over his thighs before you start pawing at his cock, groping at it through the fabric before trying to tug his boxers down. “So impatient” he tsks but still helps, pushing his thumbs under the waistband, lifting his ass and sliding them down his legs to pool at his ankles. 

Not wasting a second or letting you admire his cock at all, Robby wraps a hand around the back of your neck, pressing his fingertips into the sides in a way you know will leave bruises and tugging your body closer. Grabbing his cock at the base he guides it to your lips, tapping the reddened leaking tip against your pout — “Open up sweetheart before I make you, c’mon.” You comply. Without care or any more warning he bullies his cock into your mouth, using his hold on your neck to push your face down. All the way down until your nose is buried in the patch of dark coarse hair at the hilt. Sputtering and gagging a little he makes no move to lift you while you scratch at his thighs, you attempt to suction your mouth around him but with his thick cock filling it, it makes it a tad hard to breathe. Trying again, sucking at him as best you can, you gag again when his tip hits the back of your throat making it tighten around him and your teeth lightly scrape. “Oh come on, this is how you suck dick?” Shaking his head he uses his grip on your neck to guide your mouth up and down his cock, setting an unrelenting pace, “S’ like this sweetheart, thought you’d be better at this really” his voice dripping in disappointment. Regaining a bit of your composure after a bit and taking a deep breath in through your nose you let your tongue run along the underside of his cock. Hollawing your cheeks you suck hard letting your spit coat his cock as and slide down as you mouth at him, using that to aid your hand that comes up to stroke at what can’t fit in your mouth. “That’s a little better princess” he coos, the faux non meaningful praise once again going to your head. “Fuck you” you murmur out, the vibration of your words against his dick only adding to the older mans pleasure, plus the satisfaction he gets at pissing you off.  

Pulling off him slowly, a string of saliva still connecting you to him you latch your mouth back on just to drag your tongue down his shaft til it meets his balls. “Oh fuck” Robby pants out, his eyes blowing a little wide in lust as he lets go of your neck finally. Tilting your head down you lap at his full heavy balls, letting the hand that was on the base of him stroke up his entire length at a decent pace before popping one ball in your mouth and suckling at it. Rolling it around in your mouth with your tongue, whining at the taste of his sweat that coats it. A smirk twitches at your face when you hear the man above you let out a very breathless moan, letting go of his one ball that is now coated in spit, you slip the other in your mouth and give it the same attention. You can feel your nipples harden against the lace of your bra, wetness soaking through your panties at this point from the obsceneness of this all. Sliding your free hand down under your ruined panties you slip two fingers through your drenched folds collecting your slick as lubrication before plunging them inside to ease the deep ache in your core, rutting your clit up against your palm. “Fuck c’mere” he grunts out, your mouth releases as he is grabbing you under your arms as he stands, lifting you up and throwing you onto your bed. “Bra ‘n panties off sweetheart, now” he growls as he steps out of his boxers. Now as bad as he wanted to rip your panties off you, he’s pretty sure you’d kill him if he did plus he is not about to embarrass himself by fumbling a try at undoing the clasp of one of those new fangled bras. He knows he made the right choice in the end when one you unclasp the bra at the front, oh yeah fuck no he was never getting that. And two when you sensually let it fall from your body revealing your tits, giving a little and completely undeserved show but you're desperate for reactions out of him. Robby pokes his cheek with his tongue, his cock giving an enthusiastic twitch when you reach down and shimmy the scrap of lace you call underwear down your legs.

Once the last layers of fabric separating your body from the chilly AC filled air is thrown somewhere in your room, Robby wraps a big hand around your ankle yanking you further down the bed. Landing you sprawled out in front of him, legs spread giving him an unobstructed clear view of your leaking cunt that he can’t help but rub his thick thumb at. Collecting slick as he pushes it through your folds and presses on your hole before it lands on your clit. “Such a perfect pussy wasted on a bratty whore” he tsks. 

His words make you kick at his thigh with a hiss, he grabs onto that other ankle to stop you from further squirming and kicking. “Your the one so desperate to fuck this brat, gonna do it without a condom like the pervy old man you are too huh?” you question, an edge to your voice — “Huh Dr. Robby? Are you?” you taunt in a faux soft seductive voice, fluttering your eyelashes at him adding onto it all. The thought of having you bare excites him far more than it should but he’d never admit to that, let alone to you. “Yeah sweetheart, cause you’re gonna let me like the slut you are” he bites back before using the hold he still had on your ankle and flipping you onto your stomach. Gripping onto your hips he pulls your hips off the edge of the bed, running his cock coated in your spit down your ass and pushing through your cunt with the throbbing tip. His cock was red and beyond angry at him for pulling you off it. He had been far closer to cumming than he wanted to be, watching your fingers slip between your thighs with your mouth lapping at his balls almost undid him. 

Your mouth parts in an inaudible moan you’re grateful Robby can’t see as he lets his hips buck forward, not so dry humping your ass and pussy making you clench around nothing. “Gonna be an dick this whole time n’ just tease me the whole time?” you half whine half groan out, your feet kicking up in impatience. If you weren’t such a brat, Robby might even find it cute. Deciding it’ll be the quickest way to shut you up, he lines his cock up and thrusts with brutal force pushing every inch of his thick cock inside your cunt. The air gets knocked out of your lungs, your eyes burning with small tears as your pussy stings in an attempt to accommodate the size of him. “Fucking asshole” you moan out breathlessly, your fingers grabbing ahold of your sheets, bunching them up in your fists as he starts thrusting. Gripping the back of your neck he turns your head to take in your puffy eyes that swim with both lust and irritation, your swollen lips parted in a pant. A beautiful sight that makes a cocky smirk spread on his face as he snaps his hips back and bucks forward practically hard just to hear a whine fall out of you. “Why so quiet now huh whore? S’ too much huh? You poor baby” he remarks with mocking sympathy that makes you squirm trying to pull away. 

Sliding the other hand that was still gripping your waist up to the small of your back Robby pushes at your back, effectively pinning you down and making your ass arch up to meet his hips. “Just a dumb little pillow princess, who knew all ya’ needed was some dick to shut up” he chuckles softly, pushing your face back into the bed muffling the rather wanton cry that you let out when his dick hits that spongey spot deep inside you. “S’ all your good for anyway” he grunts out and continues to fuck you at a bruising speed and pace. “Hate you s’ much” you mumble out into your sheets as your eyes roll back. 

“What was that slut?” Robby questions, pulling out and flipping you back over onto your back and grabbing your face so you look right at him. You grab at his forearm, nails scratching him as you try pulling his hand away from you. “Repeat it sweetheart, c’mon” he nods with his head at you, you grit your teeth together and spit at him. “I hate you s’ much Robby” you repeat your words ignoring the way your eyes feel like they are about to well up again. 

He shakes his head, dropping you back down on the bed and easily thrusting his cock all the way back in making a shiver run down your spine. “Who cares, she doesn’t hate me” his eyes drop to your cunt, biting his lip slightly at the sight of it wrapped around his cock trying to swallow him whole. You clench down around him at the filth that is him talking to your pussy like it’s separate to you. “No she loves me don’t ya’ baby” he coos, his thumb rubbing at your clit as his hips draw back and snap forward hard again, not giving you a catch to breath. The feeling of his cock rutting against your walls and prodding at your g-spot with every thrust has your head going spacey, staring at Robby with an angry face but indescribable look in your eyes. Grabbing a hold of your hips he lifts your body up, instinctively you wrap your legs around his center as he climbs onto the bed. His aching full balls slap against your ass, filling the room with an obscene sound that mixes with your cries and robby’s grunts the closer the two of you get to your joint orgasm. You are determined to make the old man break before you, clenching down hard on his cock, pussy trying to ring him dry. And Robby is determined to make you break first, rubbing circles at your clit as his cock pistons in and out of you, eyes glued to every twitch your body makes. His fingers digging into your hips and yours scratching angry red lines down his chest as your head falls back in a silent moan when his tip practically hits your cervix. You think you feel him in your throat and you are scared to look down and see the most certainly there bulge in your stomach from him filling you.

“What if our co-workers could see you now, huh sweetheart? The little fuck up resident slutting herself out for their attending” he shakes his head, pressing forward to get in your face but also fuck his cock deeper inside you. It appears like the fight has now left your body and Robby leans in as if to kiss you again but is met once again with your open palm. He clenches his jaw and grips your face and smashes his lips to yours anyway, a heated fight for dominance of your mouths that Robby wins when he snaps his hips just right and you gasp out. Taking the opportunity he slips his tongue in your mouth licking at yours — “Thought we got the slapping outta your system out there whore.” he hisses out when you pull back from the kiss and bite his lip hard enough to draw blood. 

He groans and sets a rentless pace of fucking you until your body arches up and you cry out. The knot in your stomach is tightening faster and faster, “Mmm Robby…m’ gonna cum” you moan out, screwing your eyes shut and pulling him deeper in with your legs that are still around him. “Shouldn’t let you cum at all sweetheart, Just been an ungrateful slut whole time” he hums, his own orgasm fast approaching the tighter you clench down on him, the sight of you lost in pleasure also helping him along. “Miss my little puppy who hung on my every word her first year, should bring her back” he taunts and watches you squirm in both anger and frustration.  “No! Please please let me cum” you plead, your hands clenching in fists. “Fine” he groans, the fight not worth it plus he isn’t gonna last much longer either — “Cum f’ sweetheart” he commands and fucks up into you hard causing you to scream out in pleasure as your orgasm hits you, your pussy spasming and legs shaking as you coat Robby’s cock. He isn’t far behind, quickly pulling his cock out and spewing hot ropes of cum all over your stomach and abused puffy cunt. 

As you lay there a panting mess trying to calm down and ride out your high he asks — “Still hate me sweetheart?” With his casual cocky arrogance that has your anger bubbling up in you all over again.

→ a/n: i realized robby never took his socks off not that i really write that part much anyway but i think the old man he is he’d keep em on anyway i sort of proofread this and i really like this so if it flops I’ll cry.

“Bella, dad’s gonna be home to pick you up in an hour please tell me you’re packed” you sighed You and Jack had officially been separated for 2 years, you weren’t divorced but you knew you had to pull the trigger sooner or later. The hardest part had been breaking the news to your daughter Bella who was 8 at the time, she couldn’t understand why you were separating and why she had to have two houses and had to split her time. Here you all were 2 years later and it was still hard as can be “I’m not going” Bella said simply as she looked up from her vanity “I hate dad’s, it’s so boring and all he wants to do is talk” “Hate is a strong word” you said softly sitting on her bed “I understand it’s not the most fun thing but he loves you, he loves spending time with you” “If he loved me so much he’d be here with you” she looked at you Sighing you stood up and went by her side “You don’t have to be thinking about that” “He still loves…her” Bella whispered looking away “Who ?’ you asked confused “His stupid dead wife” she muttered crossing her arms “He has pictures of them at his house mom ? He has a ton, he has a whole album dedicated to her but not anything ours. I hate it, I hate her” “Bella” you murmured “Honey when the time comes you’ll-” “I don’t care” she suddenly snapped “I don’t care, I don’t wanna go over to his house and I don’t wanna talk to him so tell him to just not bother stopping by” Just as you were about to comfort her you heard your door open and Jack’s voice come through, you looked at Bella who was now sitting at her desk with her headphones on and shook your head. Somehow you knew this conversation would come up but you never thought it’d happen so soon considering the circumstances You gave her the much needed space and left her room closing the door gently and making your way downstairs to where Jack was waiting on the couch “She doesn’t wanna go with you Jack” “What ? Why ?” he frowned “Is this because I got the wrong cereal again ? I bought all 3 of them this time and I got both kinds of waffles she likes” “Jack….she wants to know why you have pictures of Esme in your house, she doesn’t like it” you revealed “She says you have pictures of her and of you two together but there’s nothing with her….or me” He stood up and shook his head “I…..I didn’t know” “I want her to stay here so I can talk to her” you explained “I feel like I can shine a different light on things for her” Jack shook his head “It’s just something that’s hard” “Trust me I know” you nodded “I knew when we got together, I knew while we were together and I knew after we separated. You will never let go of Esme….I just care that it now affects our daughters. I made the mistake of allowing myself to come second but I won’t allow her to be Jack. I never once put a boundary to that until now, please respect that and be on your way.” “You think you came second ?” he whispered Somehow you couldn’t help but scoff, you knew it was a bitch move but it was needed “Jack come on, you being serious right now ?” “I love you, I married you and built a life with you and we had a kid together. You never came second to anything, ever” he responded slightly annoyed “Okay” you said simply

“No not okay” he shook his head “You didn’t come second, you never did” Once again you nodded “Okay Jack, I never came second. I was always the first and only person on your mind during our relationship. I never once felt like I was intruding in your home, I never once felt like I was in the shadow of her, I never once felt scared to change anything in the house because I feared you getting upset, I never once felt like you only stayed with me because I ended up getting pregnant so early on into our relationship. I never once felt like you asked me to marry you out of duty and not because you loved me. I never once felt any of that Jack, never.” Jack shook his head as he let out a deep breath and closed his eyes “It’s hard, it’s so fucking hard”

“I don’t care anymore Jack, I don’t” you spoke softly “I care about Bella, I care that she’s starting to feel that way and I won’t let that happen, I won’t. I’ll do whatever it takes to make sure she never once feels like I felt while with you.” It was then that you heard Bella’s footsteps and looked towards the stairs “Hey babe, you change your mind ?” “I don’t wanna go. I told you already.” Bella walked down and stood in front of Jack 

Jack stilled “Bell—”

“I mean it.” her voice shook, angry in the way only a ten-year-old can be when she’s trying not to cry. “I don’t wanna go with you.”

You were still by the living room, unsure whether to step in or disappear entirely, and Jack looked at you briefly before crouching down to Bella’s level “Can you tell me what’s wrong ?”

“You know what’s wrong.” she muttered “Everything there is still hers.”

Jack’s face tightened slightly as he exhaled slowly “Bella…”

“You still have her stuff everywhere.” her voice rose “You still talk about her ! You still keep all her things and you said you’d move some of it but you didn’t !”

You immediately shook your head “Isabella Mikayla Abbott, you better watch that tone”

“No, because it’s true !” she cried, tears finally spilling over looking at Jack again “You love her more ! ”

The words hit him like a slap and Jack actually recoiled a little, “Bella,” he said quietly, “That is not true.”

“Yes it is ! That’s why you and Mom broke up !” she cried “I know it is, I’m not stupid dad !”

You see the way Jack’s jaw locked instantly, the way guilt flashed across his face because some part of him clearly feared she might believe that forever “Bells…pelase”

She wiped at her face furiously, shaking her head “I don’t wanna go with you anymore. You can just stay there and think about Esme all you want since she’s who you really love anyway.”

Jack went completely still, devastated “Hey,” he said softly

Bella refused to look at him as Jack sat down fully on the edge of the couch instead of towering over her. His voice stayed calm despite how wrecked he sounded underneath it “You know something ?” he asked “When Esme died, I thought my life was over. I thought I was never gonna feel normal again because she….she knew me for a really really long time….because daddy’s old…really old”

Bella’s expression wavered a bit and you could tell she wanted to grin but still she stayed strong

“And then years later, I met your mom.” he looked at you, causing you to look away instinctively “She was…a little, okay she was a lot younger…but” he grinned and continued “Your mom made me laugh again. She made me want things again. She gave me you.”

Bella’s lip trembled “Yeah and now what does that matter ?”

“I loved Esme,” he says honestly “I will probably always miss her. But missing someone who died is not the same thing as loving someone more.”

“If you loved Mom, why’d you split up ?” she whispered

Jack went quiet for a second and you could tell he was choosing his words carefully “Because sometimes adults hurt each other without meaning to,” he said softly “And sometimes relationships end even when love was and still is real.” he finished glancing at you

Bella nodded as she moved and sat on his lap “And you still love me ?”Jack swallowed hard “I love you more than anything in the world and I want you to understand something very clearly.” his voice cracked slightly “You will never be second place to a ghost…neither is your mother”

He gestured weakly and sniffled “I kept some things because Esme was part of my life. Just like pictures of your grandma are part of yours. Keeping memories doesn’t mean I want anyone else less.”

“But it feels like it,” Bella whispered

Jack nodded slowly “Then that means I haven’t done a good enough job to make my place feel like yours too.”

Bella sniffled, still hurting and still stubborn “I don’t know her,” she muttered “But she’s everywhere.”

Jack looked around the room then back at his daughter and for the first time, you think he truly saw it through her eyes “You should’ve told me sooner kiddo”

“I thought you’d get mad.” she whispered

“I could never ever be mad at you, no matter what” his voice broke “I could never be mad at you for telling me you’re hurting”

She started crying harder then, the kind where kids try to hide it by ducking their heads and Jack opened his arms carefully holding her until she was all cried out. The house was quiet by the time Bella finally fell asleep. Jack had sat with her until she drifted off, one hand rubbing slowly over her hair while she clung to his sleeve even in sleep, like she was afraid he’d disappear if she let go

You stood in the kitchen pretending to look at your phone when he walked in, he looked exhausted. Emotionally wrecked in the way only parents get after hearing their child say something they can’t unhear

Jack leaned both hands against the counter for a moment, head lowered “She was right.”

You looked up immediately “Jack—”

“No.” he shook his head “Not about loving Esme more. Never that. But about the rest of it…I did make you feel second.”

Silence settled between you and he laughed once under his breath “God, hearing Bella say it out loud…” he rubbed his eyes “I didn’t realize how obvious it must’ve felt.”

You folded your arms tightly “I never wanted you to erase Esme.”

“I know.”

“And I never hated her.”

“I know that too.” Jack looked at you then, really looked at you “But I think I spent so long being terrified to let go of my grief that I didn’t notice I was holding you at arm’s length with it.”

Your throat tightened and you shook your head “Jack what I said earlier was out of anger for Bella…that..that’s how how I really felt” you lied

He swallowed hard “You deserved a husband who was fully there.”

“You were there.” you sighed

“Not enough.” the answer came immediately and honest

Jack stared down at the counter for a second before speaking again “When Esme died, I froze part of my life in place.” his voice was quiet “And when I fell in love with you… I think some part of me felt guilty for surviving her. I’d keep things out because I told myself they mattered, and they did matter.” he glanced toward the living room “But somewhere along the way, I stopped asking whether keeping all of it exactly the same was hurting the people still here.” his eyes meet yours again “I hurt you.”

The words settled heavily between you because they were in fact true. You remembered birthdays where he’d gone quiet without explanation, anniversaries interrupted by grief he never spoke aloud. Just moments where you felt like you were trespassing in someone else’s life instead of building your own marriage

Jack’s voice broke softer this time “I know it’s because of me that our marriage ended.”

You looked away quickly because hearing him say it out loud hurt more than you expected

“I loved you,” he said “I still love you.”

“Jack…”

“No, let me say it.” he shook his head slightly “I need you to hear it at least once without me hiding behind excuses or guilt or memories.” he stepped closer, like he was afraid you’d walk away “I have never once wanted to be away from you.”

Your eyes stung but you nodded “I hear you”

“I was an idiot,” he said quietly “I thought loving you and grieving Esme had to exist separately somehow. Like moving forward meant betraying the past but all I actually did was hurt the person standing right in front of me.”

You blinked hard, fighting tears now “I’m glad you can finally admit that Jack”

“Esme was my past.”

There was love in the statement still. Respect and Grief but not longing, not the unbearable tie that used to exist anymore

“You are the woman I want to grow older with” Jack whispered desperately

He looked devastated saying it, like he knew it may be too late “I know I can’t fix years of making you feel unwanted overnight and I know I don’t deserve for you to just forgive me because I finally figured myself out.”

Your hands tremble slightly at your sides and you wished the ground could just swallow you up whole at this moment

“But if there’s even a chance…” his voice rasped “I want to spend the rest of my life making it up to you with time because no matter what happens, I love you. You’re the one I love.”

“Calm down, baby,” he sighed, stopping you before you could walk through the fence gate of your parents’ backyard. “You think they won’t like me?” 

“I’ve never introduced anyone to them,” you explained. “It’s not that I think they won’t like you. I have absolutely no idea how they’ll react.”

Jack had reassured you and walked in behind you, a polite smile on his face. Your family stared him down as you both walked up to your parents to greet them first. 

“Hi, honey,” your mom smiled, kissing your cheek after hugging you. “Who’s this?” 

“Jack Abbot,” he took the initiative. “It’s great to meet you guys.” 

“Strong handshake,” your dad hummed, puffing his chest out slightly. You cringed internally, glancing between him and Jack with a nervous expression. Was he really going to try the macho bullshit? 

“It’s nice to meet you as well, hun,” your mom gripped your father’s forearm, forcing his hand away from Jack’s. “She’d mentioned she was seeing someone. Said he was very handsome and kind.” 

“Ma,” you groaned, covering your face. 

Jack let out a genuine laugh and said a few more things.

“So, how did you two meet?” Your mom questioned. 

“We met at work,” Jack answered. “I’m an attending physician at PTMC.” 

“Oh, you’re a doctor as well?” She smiled. “That’s great. How long have you been a doctor?” 

“Coming on two and a half decades now,” he nodded. 

“What did you do before that?” Your dad interjected. 

“I was an army medic,” Jack hummed. “That’s how I lost my leg.” 

You watched him lift his pant leg before placing a reassuring hand on his arm with a soft smile on your face. 

“My father was in the military,” your dad nodded. “I was as well. Ten years. They teach you a lot of things there. Discipline, routine…loyalty. My daughter is my world, Jack. You understand that?” 

“Dad,” you called out softly, but Jack squeezed your hand to stop you. 

“When she was born, I was sure that no man would ever be good enough for her,” he continued. “I made sure she knew exactly what she was worth. So, if she thinks that’s you, then all I can do is trust her on that. But let me make something clear, if you hurt her I will beat you with that leg of yours.” 

“Hey,” your mom smacked his shoulder. “Cut the act now.” 

Your dad narrowed his eyes slightly before he broke out into a smile. “I’m just kidding, come here, son,” he wrapped Jack up in a tight embrace. “Welcome to the family.” 

Your body physically relaxed and a relieved breath left you. They hugged for maybe a second longer, your father murmuring something inaudible to you and your mom. 

The rest of the night went smoothly. Your little cousins took a liking to Jack and the fact he was “part robot” because of his leg. Jack seemed happy. He’d expressed his want for children and you’d given it serious thought. Seeing him with them had only solidified your decision, so there were no worries there. 

Now, you both were walking down the street to his parked truck, hand in hand, smiling as you went over the events of the night. 

“Hey,” you pursed your lips. “What did my dad say to you earlier?” 

All Jack did was smile and kiss you softly. 

He’d keep the little surprise of your grandmother’s ring to himself for the time being. That would be his information to share when the time was right.

thank you for reading! reblogs are always appreciated <3