My Lover's Prayer

SET AFTER:

Rockstar - Brendon Park meets his match against PTMC’s fiery new attending.

Pussy Wagon - A spilled drink leads you to see a different side of your nemesis Park The Shark.

The First Time (NSFW) - Fireworks aren’t the only explosive thing happening at Jesse’s Fourth of July party.

A Loaded Gun (NSFW) - Hate sex has never been so fucking hot…

This Is Not A Love Story - Brandon tries to set a rule after a ‘sticky’ situation.

The Game - Brendon finds himself breaking his own rules when it comes to you.

Tell. Me. To. Stop (NSFW) - Jealousy is not an emotion Brendon Park is accustomed to.

Surrender (NSFW) - Brendon Park isn't a sub... at least not until you coax him into a pair of leather cuffs after a bad day.

SET BEFORE:

Pittfest -Brendon comforts you when you fall apart after the events of Pittfest.

Is He Prettier Than Me? - Brandon gets curious when he learns you have other plans.

Confetti (NSFW) - Brendon Park doesn't do night clubs...

The Drawer - Brendon realises your relationship may be shifting when he discovers he has a drawer at your place.

Scrunchies - Scrunchies… they’re the downfall of Brendon Park.

Love Games (NSFW) - Brendon and you love to play games, especially with each other.

An Exquisite Form of Torture (NSFW) - Brendon continues to turn up the heat as he holds you captive.

Authentic - You and Jesse discuss your situationship with Brendon after you see him with another woman.

THAT Guy - Brendon is forced to face up to his feelings for you when he finds out your meeting up with an ex.

Seven Days - Seven days is far too long to go without you…

Save It - A thirty six hour shift leads to another admission about your relationship with Brendon.

Doctor Dick - Brendon’s day takes a turn when Whitaker gives him some critical information.

A Manipulative Fuck - You and Brendon discuss what happened with your ex.

The Call (NSFW) - Brendon decides to put a stop to David’s calls once and for all.

The One That Hates The Ravens - David’s attempt at revenge backfires spectacularly.

The Lovin Spoonful - You wake up to an unexpected surprise.

Delete, Block, Rinse, Repeat - A series of cryptic messages force Brendon to confront a secret he’s been keeping for almost a decade.

His Father’s Son - Brendon reflects on the past as he debates taking that first sip of whiskey.

The Cost of Dignity - Brendon’s greatest secret comes with a cost.

A Kiss For Luck - Brendon struggles to navigate working at the hospital after the release of THAT video.

The Craziest Fucking Thing - You take matters into your own hands after receiving bad news from Brendon.

Ride Or Die - You wake up to the sound of an angry blender after Brendon discovers what happened with Rowena.

Baby Shark - Once a year Brendon always ends up back at the aquarium.

Diamonds (NSFW) - A bet leads to naughty shenanigans in a five star restaurant.

The Call Out - Brendon’s focus on wedding planning is disrupted when he’s called out to the scene of a multi-car pile up.

Good Hands - Abbot reminds Brendon you’re in good hands as they proceed with the amputation.

Flayed - Brendon’s world crashes down as he learns the truth about the accident.

Ten Things I Love About You - Brendon discovers a pink envelope in the pocket of the jacket you were wearing at the time of the accident.

The Parent Trap - Brendon faces your parents, leading to a surprise revelation.

Sledgehammer - Brendon struggles to cope in the aftermath of everything that’s happened.

Et Tu Marianne? - Your mother throws Brendon under the bus after you wake up from surgery.

Roses - Brendon is forced to deal with a vindictive POS when a dozen red roses are delivered to your door.

The Fucking Patient - Abbot has some harsh words for Brendon regarding your care.

Chemistry - You and Brendon finally have a moment alone to talk.

A Serial Absconder - Your habit of disappearing leads to a healing journey Brendon doesn’t expect.

The Best the Ravens Have Ever Looked (NSFW) - Brendon has a real problem with your shorts.

Home - Brendon introduces you to your new home after the accident.

The Change Up - When you struggle to reacclimate at home Brendon realises you need a change up.

The Body Pillow - Brendon and you settle in for your first night at the new house.

Rae Days - You're forced to navigate your new limitations when Brendon returns to work full time.

The Liberator - Brandon asks Abbot's for advice with a very particular problem.

Grounded - Brendon gets a surprise when his brother turns up on his doorstep unexpectedly.

Watermelon Sugar (NSFW) - Brendon uses your favourite song against you when the sex cushion comes out to play.

Suck (NSFW) - Brendon's dommy side finally comes out to play for the first time since the accident.

Bad Girl (NSFW) - You tempt Brendon into having sex for the first time since the accident.

Brendon can’t stop thinking about your tongue, about him lying on his stomach, ass in the air, moaning like a whore into his pillow while you swirled it around his rim, thrusting it into him as your palms held his cheeks apart.

He’s been fingered before, while being jerked off or getting blown, but he’s never experienced something like that, something so intense that he blew his load completely untouched all over his sheets.

“What’s going on with you?” Jesse asks as he sits across from Brendon in a trendy restaurant one of his friends owns, swirling a fry through his ketchup. They try to catch up once a month over dinner, always visiting somewhere new because Jesse wants so explore everything Pittsburgh has to offer in terms of culinary delights. “You keep zoning out.”

Brendon sighs, propping his chin up on his palm as he watches the other man pick up another fry. He wants to talk about what happened last night but at the same time that would mean admitting Jesse was right, that he is starting to develop feelings for you and he’s not entirely sure he’s ready to address that considering you were his arch nemesis up until six months ago.

“Rae blew my mind last night.” He concedes instead.

“Isn’t that normal for the two of you?” Jesse responds, gesturing wildly with his fry. “I mean I have to guess the sex is crazy because she comes in with a smile on her face and you haven’t torn the heads off any residents lately.”

“Yeah, it is.” Brendon admits because the two of you have done some pretty filthy shit since hooking up at Jesse’s Fourth of July party, and it only gets naughtier the longer it goes on. “But this was different, this was…very intense and something I’ve never done before-”

“Ohhh you just discovered that anal works both ways.” Jesse’s summarises, pushing his plate away from him as his elbows come to rest on the table so he can lower his voice as he leans in closer. “I’m always thought she had a secret strap-on.”

“Rimming.” Brendon clarifies, his ears heating as he says the word out loud. “I just didn’t think it would be so fucking good. It’s got me thinking about other things.”

“Like… strap-ons.” Jesse persists, his palm smoothing over his goatee.

“Like strap-ons.” Brendon agrees, holding up two of them to indicate what he’s been a recipient of in the past.  “I’ve done fingers before. And I enjoyed that but I’m wondering now how much better it could be if we tried something else...”

It’s a question without being an actual question, because Brendon, he still struggles with any shred of his own vulnerability. Jesse takes pity on him, settling back into his seat, fingers laced together on the surface of the table as he searches for the right words.

“It’s a different type of pleasure.” Jesse informs him, his nose ring glinting in the warm glow from the Edison bulbs overhead. “I’ve had earth shattering, full body orgasms through anal sex that you just can’t get through hands, mouth and pussy. I mean like transcendent, you can’t move afterwards because it feels like heaven just collided with the earth kind of sensations. Part of that is because of the nerves and the prostate thing, but it’s also the emotional aspect, the shift in power.” He shrugs his shoulders as he tries to explain it but comes up short. “Sometimes it just feels really fucking good to be the one taken care of for a change, especially in our line of work.”

“I’m starting to see that.” The edges of Brendon’s mouth tug up into a smile as he thinks about the night he let you tie him up for the first time. You’d cracked open his world, given him something he didn’t know he craved and now… he wants more. “Rae… she has this way about her that just allows me to let go. I don’t feel like I have to be someone else when I fuck…”

He stares down at his hands, trying to sift through what it’s like when he’s in your company. There’s no Park the Shark, there’s just Brendon but saying that out loud to Jesse seems stupid. “I don’t know how to explain it.”

“You’re not the fuckboi with her.” Jesse says knowingly because before Robby he was a bit of a fuckboi too. “You don’t have a reputation to maintain, it’s not a conquest or a way of letting off steam after a bad day, it’s real. You trust her because she trusts you, and now it’s taking you out of your comfort zone and you kind of like it. Physically… emotionally…”

“Yeah, I guess that’s the heart of it.” Brendon says, picking up the paper napkin and toying with it between his fingers. “Things are heading in a direction I certainly didn’t expect.”

“And to think she started off as your nemesis.” Jesse muses, sipping from his beer with a shit eating grin. “Now you’re talking about giving her your virginity.”

Brendon snaps the napkin at him and Jesse sniggers as he takes another pull from his beer. “I’m telling you, Rae’s got a secret strap-on, my friend. All you need to do is ask her to dust it off.”

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SET AFTER:

Sassy - Dana's world is turned upside down when a face from her past appears at PTMC.

Choir Girl/Wild Girl - Dana's world is turned upside down when a face from her past appears at PTMC.

The Ghostwriter - The past collides with the present when a ghostwriter turns up, hell bent on learning what happened in New York all those years ago.

The Knock At The Door (NSFW) - Dana's dreams of her time in New York are interrupted by an unexpected knock on the door at three in the morning.

Lavender - Dana reveals the truth about her marriage leading to a complicated moment.

The ghostwriter is a problem.

One that you wish you could eliminate as you sit across from her, foot tapping against the leg of the table. She ignores your glare and focuses on Dana with a hunger in her eyes that makes you want to slap the plum coloured lipstick from her mouth.

You get it though, even forty years on, Dana Evans is something else.

“So, your plan is to blackmail us into telling our story.” Dana summarises as she toys with the battered cigarette carton between her fingers. It’s scuffed, falling apart. Something she keeps on her in case of emergencies, and this… this certainly warrants an emergency.

“Blackmail is such a horrible word.” Giselle says, her phone sitting on the table between you. She taps her finger on the screen, bringing up the picture of that kiss. “At least by talking to me you get to control the narrative.”

“Who the fuck is going to care about two women who used to be in a band forty years ago?” Dana barks out a laugh, deftly sliding a cigarette out from the carton. “You hoping to send it to People magazine? I’m sure they’d be real interested in a couple of nurses that are hot for each other.”

You bite back a smile, this… this is why you started calling her Sassy all those years ago.

“Hm.” Giselle says, her tattooed eyebrows almost meeting in the middle as she turns the phone screen around so you can see your hands threading through Dana’s hair, her body pushed up against yours. “Does your husband know that you fuck women?”

It’s a low fucking blow, but its water off a duck’s back as Dana withdraws a cheap lighter from the cigarette carton. “That’s never been a secret.”

“But your daughters don’t, and the people you work with, what about your church?” Giselle persists as Dana places the cigarette between her lips.

“I gotta hand it to you.” Dana picks up the lighter, the flame flickering as she brings it to the end of her cigarette. It catches and a plume of smoke twirls from the end as Dana takes that first drag. “You got a set of brass balls on you.”

Giselle glances at the bartender, but he’s too engrossed in solving today’s Wordle to give a shit about Dana lighting up. “Mac’s a friend.” Dana tips her head towards him. “He doesn’t care about me smoking in here.”

She blows a stream of smoke into Giselle’s face to make her point. The other woman coughs into her hand, and Dana smiles in that feral way of hers before she taps off the ash into the other woman’s glass.

“I have spent the last forty years playing by other people’s rules.” Dana informs her, taking another drag and holding it for long enough that Giselle starts to shift impatiently in her seat. “I’m not going to live my life dancing to that tune anymore. You want to publish the photo, send it to everyone in my life go ahead but you’re not getting my story, that is between me and her.” She tilts her head towards you. “And maybe someone with ethics if we decide to tell it but that certainly won’t be you after I call your publisher.”

“They want this story just as bad as I do.” Giselle says, sinking back into her seat. There’s a tightness to her shoulders, a slight waver to her voice. “It won’t change a single thing.”

Dana huffs out a wry chuckle as she stubs out the cigarette on the screen of Giselle’s phone. “I guess we’ll see about that, won’t we?”

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SET AFTER:

Rockstar - Brendon Park meets his match against PTMC’s fiery new attending.

Pussy Wagon - A spilled drink leads you to see a different side of your nemesis Park The Shark.

The First Time (NSFW) - Fireworks aren’t the only explosive thing happening at Jesse’s Fourth of July party.

A Loaded Gun (NSFW) - Hate sex has never been so fucking hot…

This Is Not A Love Story - Brandon tries to set a rule after a ‘sticky’ situation.

The Game - Brendon finds himself breaking his own rules when it comes to you.

Tell. Me. To. Stop (NSFW) - Jealousy is not an emotion Brendon Park is accustomed to.

SET BEFORE:

Pittfest -Brendon comforts you when you fall apart after the events of Pittfest.

Is He Prettier Than Me? - Brandon gets curious when he learns you have other plans.

Confetti (NSFW) - Brendon Park doesn't do night clubs...

The Drawer - Brendon realises your relationship may be shifting when he discovers he has a drawer at your place.

Scrunchies - Scrunchies… they’re the downfall of Brendon Park.

Love Games (NSFW) - Brendon and you love to play games, especially with each other.

An Exquisite Form of Torture (NSFW) - Brendon continues to turn up the heat as he holds you captive.

Authentic - You and Jesse discuss your situationship with Brendon after you see him with another woman.

THAT Guy - Brendon is forced to face up to his feelings for you when he finds out your meeting up with an ex.

Seven Days - Seven days is far too long to go without you…

Save It - A thirty six hour shift leads to another admission about your relationship with Brendon.

Doctor Dick - Brendon’s day takes a turn when Whitaker gives him some critical information.

A Manipulative Fuck - You and Brendon discuss what happened with your ex.

The Call (NSFW) - Brendon decides to put a stop to David’s calls once and for all.

The One That Hates The Ravens - David’s attempt at revenge backfires spectacularly.

The Lovin Spoonful - You wake up to an unexpected surprise.

Delete, Block, Rinse, Repeat - A series of cryptic messages force Brendon to confront a secret he’s been keeping for almost a decade.

His Father’s Son - Brendon reflects on the past as he debates taking that first sip of whiskey.

The Cost of Dignity - Brendon’s greatest secret comes with a cost.

A Kiss For Luck - Brendon struggles to navigate working at the hospital after the release of THAT video.

The Craziest Fucking Thing - You take matters into your own hands after receiving bad news from Brendon.

Ride Or Die - You wake up to the sound of an angry blender after Brendon discovers what happened with Rowena.

Baby Shark - Once a year Brendon always ends up back at the aquarium.

Diamonds (NSFW) - A bet leads to naughty shenanigans in a five star restaurant.

The Call Out - Brendon’s focus on wedding planning is disrupted when he’s called out to the scene of a multi-car pile up.

Good Hands - Abbot reminds Brendon you’re in good hands as they proceed with the amputation.

Flayed - Brendon’s world crashes down as he learns the truth about the accident.

Ten Things I Love About You - Brendon discovers a pink envelope in the pocket of the jacket you were wearing at the time of the accident.

The Parent Trap - Brendon faces your parents, leading to a surprise revelation.

Sledgehammer - Brendon struggles to cope in the aftermath of everything that’s happened.

Et Tu Marianne? - Your mother throws Brendon under the bus after you wake up from surgery.

Roses - Brendon is forced to deal with a vindictive POS when a dozen red roses are delivered to your door.

The Fucking Patient - Abbot has some harsh words for Brendon regarding your care.

Chemistry - You and Brendon finally have a moment alone to talk.

A Serial Absconder - Your habit of disappearing leads to a healing journey Brendon doesn’t expect.

The Best the Ravens Have Ever Looked (NSFW) - Brendon has a real problem with your shorts.

Home - Brendon introduces you to your new home after the accident.

The Change Up - When you struggle to reacclimate at home Brendon realises you need a change up.

The Body Pillow - Brendon and you settle in for your first night at the new house.

Rae Days - You're forced to navigate your new limitations when Brendon returns to work full time.

The Liberator - Brandon asks Abbot's for advice with a very particular problem.

Grounded - Brendon gets a surprise when his brother turns up on his doorstep unexpectedly.

Watermelon Sugar (NSFW) - Brendon uses your favourite song against you when the sex cushion comes out to play.

Suck (NSFW) - Brendon's dommy side finally comes out to play for the first time since the accident.

Bad Girl (NSFW) - You tempt Brendon into having sex for the first time since the accident.

Brendon Park is not a sub.

It simply isn’t in his nature. He doesn’t bend to other people’s will. He doesn't allow them to dictate his pleasure. He’s entirely in control at all times, except tonight.

Because tonight you’ve somehow coaxed him into a pair of leather cuffs, into being restrained to his headboard, into relinquishing himself completely as you straddle his hips, that scrap of damp lace rubbing against his cock.

He’d been determined to hate fuck the life out of you, the same way the two of you have been doing for months now but you’d seen something in him. The remnants of a bad day, the proximity to his son’s anniversary, the one you knew nothing about. You’d found the crack in his armour, and you’d praised it apart by slowing things down, by making him the object of your attention instead of focusing on his cock.

“I think you need someone to take care of you tonight.” You had murmured into his ear. “Someone to chase away all those tangled up thoughts in your head.”

“You think that’s you, do you?” His voice is harsh, the final lance of a man who is terrified of falling. “That you’ll just whisper in my ear and I’ll let you tie me up.”

“I do.” You tell him, your lips barely caressing his as your thumb ghosts over the stubble that lines his jaw after a long couple of days of surgeries. “Because I know deep down you trust me, the same way that I trust you.”

Those words they devastate him in all the right ways because they’re true. He doesn’t know when it happened, only that he’d put his life in your hands if he had to.

He surrenders after that, holds out his wrists so you can slip the leather over them.

There’s a bliss in being bound that he never truly understood until he’s under your spell. When he ties you up, he understands he’s stripping away the parts of you that need to be control, that he’s emptying your head of all those responsibilities you have in the E.R. But he’s never experienced that for himself, he’s never allowed himself to explore that side of him.

When you take out feather tickler from his sex drawer, he doesn’t really understand the power of it. In theory he knows it’s about sensation but he’s never used the damn thing, it just came in the same set as his flogger and paddle.

Impact play is more his style, it makes him feel powerful, in control and you absolutely love having your ass tanned red.

But maybe that’s the point of the tickler. Brendon doesn’t slow down, he doesn’t stop to smell the roses. But like this he has no choice but to give in, to tumblr headfirst into his pleasure.

You start at his throat. Your lips brushing over his in the sweetest way as you swirl the tickler like a paint brush, down along the hollow and over his collarbone. The light fluttering tingle rushes through his nerve endings. The heat of your body presses against him, a warm, soothing presence as the feathers dance over his nipples, bringing each one of them to stiff peaks. Something unfurls inside him, a relentless pleasure that makes his cock twitch, pre-cum spurting from the tip.

Your lips follow the tickler, your mouth grazing his nipple, catching it between your teeth. His breath hitches as you start to suck, the pressure a delicious contrast to the feathers that are currently caressing his ribs, teasing along his hip, delving even lower.

Waves of anticipation grow between strokes, each one more intense than the last as you focus your attention on his inner thighs, the feathers brushing over his balls, causing them to tighten as pre-cum erupts over his stomach, smearing across his treasure trail. His palms grip the chains of the leather cuffs, the metal digging into the flesh as his hips start to rock, craving stimulation, riding each surge as it crashes through his body.

When the feather caresses his silken length, he cries out at the sensation. His hips buck up against it as you grace his dick with long consistent strokes, each one driving him, closer and closer to the edge, until he’s right there at the pinnacle of release, his entire body trembling.

The feather falls away, replaced by your fingers wrapping around his shaft, your thumb smoothing over the sensitive head, spreading his pre-cum all over it. That warmth continues to spread, grating breathes emitting from between clenched teeth as he thrusts into your palm, needy, desperate, chasing the current that simmers underneath his skin as he strains against the cuffs.

“Poor baby.” You tease, your head dipping low, your tongue licking a stripe right up the length of his cock as you reach for something alongside the bed. “Do you need a little something to get you over that edge?”

He nods, his eyes stinging.

He’s never been a slave to his pleasure but right now he’d do anything to simply come.

You pick up the wand, the one he’s used on you countless times. You place it against the underside of his cock, the tip against the frenulum before turning it on. The low, steady vibration makes his back arch, his hips rearing up involuntarily as the crest hits him, slamming through his body like tsunami, stealing away his breath. He cries out. A sharp, sudden plea that tears from his chest as cum streaks across his stomach, his dick pulsing with every spurt. You ride it out with him, whispering reassurances over the ringing in his ears as he sags back into the pillows, his entire body spent.

The vibrator is turned off, tossed God knows where on the mattress as you reach up, unfastening the cuffs. A whine escapes his throat as you disappear for a second, returning with a warm washcloth to clean the mess from his abdomen before tossing it into the hamper.

For a moment he thinks you’re going to leave, get dressed and call an Uber.

But instead you climb back onto the bed with him, your arms wrapping around him, gathering him up close. He buries his head into your shoulder, breathing in the scent that clings to your skin as your lips brush over his temple, hands roving along the taut muscles of his back, gentle, soothing.

Moments like this, they’re something that Brendon can never ask for but he craves with every fibre of his being. He doesn’t get close to people, he doesn’t cuddle his lovers but with you, it’s different. There’s a safety that comes with this level of trust, something he finds himself embracing as your heart thuds against his.

“I didn’t know I needed that.” He finds himself whispering in your ear. His voice is rough, emotional. If he’s honest he’s feeling a little overwhelmed right now, but being with you like this, it’s grounding him. “I’ve never…let myself go like that. I’ve never…”

Words fail him but you know what he’s trying to say, he can feel it in the depths of his heart.

“We should do more of that.” He says finally.

“We will.” You promise, your legs tangling with his as you kiss his hair. “We’ll do it whenever you need.”

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SET AFTER:

The Neurologist - Robby doesn’t think much of Jack’s friend The Neurologist…

Cuffs - Robby makes a discovery when a pair of handcuffs malfunctions at a crucial time.

Bed Rotting - Robby starts to blow up his life after you return to Seattle.

The Voicemail - Robby puts the final nail in the coffin of your marriage when he leaves THAT voice mail.

Divorce Papers - Jack gives a couple of home truths to Robby after he finds out he signed your divorce papers.

A Fucking Nightmare - Robby’s worst nightmare comes true when his ex-wife shows up as a guest at Dana’s vow renewal ceremony.

Regrets - Robby can’t help but think about his regrets after seeing his ex-wife for the first time since he signed the divorce papers.

Unread - Robby turns to Jack when you don’t respond to his message

The Call - Robby takes the plunge and decides to call you, leading to a surprising revelation.

Shepherd - Robby’s world is turned upside down when he receives a call from Derek Shepherd.

Husband Number Two - Robby gets into it with the man vying for the role of Husband Number Two in your life.

You’re upset.

Robby can hear it in your voice as he pauses outside your hospital room, his phone in one hand, typing out an update message for Jack, and a wholewheat egg wrap in the other, great brainfood for a concussion.

He’d left you dressing this morning to go in search of breakfast and now you’re apparently reaming folks out. Over what he can’t tell, he can only hear the frustration in your heart, the anger. Both things that are absolutely terrible for you in your current condition.

He pushes open the door to find you standing across from Shepherd and Owen. Your hip is cocked, one hand resting upon it. Two fingers of the other are rubbing at the space between your brows as if trying to ward off a headache, something very common with your type of head injury.

“What’s going on?” He says as he steps inside the room, slipping his phone into his back pocket. It vibrates once, Jack asking for more details, no doubt.

Owen huffs, his arms crossed over this chest, the left side of his mouth twisting up in distaste at Robby’s presence. “I thought you would have disappeared by now.”

It’s a dig, a kidney blow that’s meant to disarm him because yeah, Robby did disappear from his marriage, he owns that. The point is he’s here now, and he’s the one standing in your corner, not these two fuckwits you’ve been working with for the past few years.

“I don’t do that anymore.” He states, handing you the breakfast wrap. You take it gratefully, biting into it with an aggression he’s only witnessed on those nature shows he puts on at night to fall asleep to.

Owen scoffs, rolling his eyes and it takes everything in Robby not to react, because this isn’t about him and the ‘feud’ him and Owen seem to have. It’s about you, the woman who is so pissed off she’s practically vibrating.

“I was just telling Viv she won’t be taking her road trip.” Shepherd palm scrubs over his jaw as he shakes his head. “I’m sorry Viv, I just don’t feel comfortable clearing you to drive or flying just yet.”

You look like you want to throw the wrap at him. But instead, you stay silent, chewing with the quiet intensity of someone who is clearly plotting a murder.

Robby gets it. You’re a Type A personality, highly organised, very time orientated. This move to Pittsburgh has a lot of deadlines, including your employment date, picking up the keys to your new apartment, being there when your shipped items turn up. And then there’s the road trip.

The two of you always talked about taking one but then the study had come up and the marriage had collapsed…

This time around it was meant to be a break, something that you were finally doing for yourself after being in the service of others for so long. And now that’s crumbling around you too.

“Look Viv.” Owen steps forward, his voice softer now as if approaching a skittish animal. You look at him with similar eyes, like you don’t know whether to scratch him the fuck up or run. “I know you have to be out of your place by the end of the day. I’ve got plenty of space at my condo, why don’t you stay a couple of days…”

Your shoulders sag, the mental exhaustion of this whole situation physically weighing you down. You tilt your head away, blinking quickly and Robby realises there’s a very real possibility that you’re about to cry.

And he fucking hates it.

“I’ll drive.” Robby says softly. His hand skates along your upper back, palm rubbing gently between your shoulder blades to sooth away the stiffness that grips your entire body like a taut guitar string ready to snap. “I need to head back to Pittsburgh anyway. You can still make the road trip, do all the things you want to, and…” He casts a glance at Shepherd who watches the exchange passively. “They’ll be a doctor on call to keep an eye on you every step of the way.”

“That’s acceptable to me.” Shepherd says, his lips pursing together into a grim line as he steps towards you. “I know how much you want to get out of here after what happened with the study. I’ll get your discharge papers sorted out and then you can be on your way.”

The weight of those words hangs in the air between the two of you, an undercurrent of tension that Robby’s been picking up on ever since he received that phone call.

“It’s been a pleasure working with you Dr Robinavitch.” Shepherd holds out his hand for you to shake.

You don’t take it, instead you tuck your own hands into the pockets of your own jacket, the ultimate snub to his gesture. “I don’t think I can say the same Dr Shepherd.”

It’s Shepherd’s turn to look away. “I really wish-”

“Wishes won’t help the people that were on that trial Derek.” Your voice is harsh, cold. A tone Robby’s never heard from you, not even at the lowest points of your marriage. “If you could get those discharge papers…

He nods before pulling away, heading towards the door. Light floods in as he opens it, stepping out into the corridor as Owen follows after. The redhead pauses in the doorway momentarily, his shoulders tightening before he glances at you over his shoulder. “I really can’t change your mind?”

“No.” You say resolutely. His shoulders slump as he closes the door behind him, leaving you and Robby caged in together.

“I know you must have questions-”

“You don’t have to tell me.” Robby holds up his hand to cut you off. He gets the feeling you’ve been forced to have a lot of conversations you don’t want to over the past few weeks. Right now, he can tell you’re tired, overwhelmed, that there are a million things running through your head, each one bumping against each other to take priority. “Not until you’re ready.”

You swallow hard, nodding your head.

“I just want to go home.” You tell him, and he knows you’re not talking about your Seattle apartment. He can see your desperation to leave this city, it’s in the way you wring your hands as you look up at him. “I fucked up my entire life for this job Michael…”

You use the back of your wrist to wipe away the salt from your cheeks and Robby can’t help but reach for you. His arms wrap around you, drawing you into the shelter of his body. You fit against him the way you always have, like this is the one place you belong in this world. You cling to him, your fists curling into his t-shirt as his lips brush over your hair.

“We both fucked up.” He whispers, closing his eyes and savouring the press of you against him. “What happened between us… it’s not all on you.”

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Companion Piece To:

The Casting Couch - Your first foray into porn starts on a casting couch with Michael “Robby” Robinavitch behind the camera.

The Photo Lab - Jack and Robby review the photographs from your audition on the casting couch.

It’s supposed to be hand job.

That’s it.

A screen test with you and Jack performing, Robby directing behind the camera and Jesse engineering the sound with a boom mic. It’s the way it usually is with an indie company, everyone jumps in, helps out where they can.

This session is meant to get you used to being in front of the camera, but the whole thing goes awry the moment you meet Jack, because the two of you…

You have chemistry that’s off the fucking charts.

The type of chemistry that would blow up the house, and burn down the whole goddamn farm if there wasn’t someone to rein you both in. Which is Robby’s job. He can choose to ride that horse all the way out to the pastures, or he can tether it, letting it work within the perimeters that have been set.

But where’s the fun in that, he thinks as he fixes the lighting, watching Jack run through the scene with you on ‘the casting couch’ they’ve stolen from Dana’s reception area to use on set. You’re wearing Daisy Duke shorts and an ACDC t-shirt, looking like a wet dream of the girl next door. Your hair falls loose across your face like a waterfall, something he knows will play well with their audience in future videos where your partner can wrap it around their fist.

That used to be something he enjoyed back when he was staring in his own movies. He liked the power it gave him, the arch of a woman’s back, the hitch of her breath when he tugged.

He chases that image out of his head, focusing on adjusting the final lamp, stealing away the shadows. Jesse gives him the thumbs up underneath his headphones to confirm he’s completed his sound checks, before he picks up the boom mic. Robby ducks back behind the camera, reviewing the first shot he has lined up. It’s the perfect framing of you and Jack on the couch. He should be able to capture everything he needs without having to detach it from the tripod.

“Alright guys we’re going to start rolling in three, two, one…”

The easiness between the two of you stays, but it slips into something raw, something heated. Transitions like this are Jack’s speciality, it’s why they pair him with the folks they screen test, but you, you match that energy and it creates an intimate atmosphere, one where a viewer can believe this is more than just porn.

“You’re nervous.” Jack remarks, reaching out to tuck an errant strand of hair back behind your ear. Your body language plays to that. Hands tucked underneath your ass as if you’re scared to touch, thighs rubbing together as if you’re excited.

 You make eye contact as you speak, the left side of your mouth tilting up into a mischievous smile. “A little.” You say, nestling your face into his palm as if you’re savouring his touch. “But isn’t everyone the first time?”

Those words they’re like a gut punch. Honest, flirty, they’re enough to capture attention, to hold it because the audience will see that authenticity, in fact they’ll fall in love with it.

“Mostly.” Jack cradles your jaw, his thumb chasing over the outline of your pert mouth, dragging down your lower lip. It’s a naughty little move, meant to draw attention to that filthy pout you have going on. “But you don’t need to worry, you’re very pretty. Our viewers will love you.”

“And what will they love doing with me?” You bat back as his mouth hovers over yours.

Jack’s lips curl into a smile, one that Robby is intimately familiar. He’s enjoying this tête-à-tête. It’s something fresh, something different from the hours of mechanical fucking he undertakes. He can tell the other man wants to run with it, to see where the two of you will take the rest of the scene.

 “Can I show you?” His voice his husky, his whiskey eyes bright with adventure.

“I think you better had…” You whisper, your lips barely brushing his. “Otherwise, my imagination… it runs wild.”

Robby exchanges a glance with Jesse, the two of them trying to hide their own smiles. It’s a filthy promise, and the start of a brand that’s going to launch an income stream that springboards into so many other videos. You’re painting yourself as this insatiably creative woman. One who takes pride in claiming her own sexuality, who owns it.

That sort of woman, she’s catnip in their industry.

Something different that sets their studio apart from the ones that focus on twenty year olds featured in Dad’s Best Friend vids, and Opps I Fucked The Babysitter movies.

“We like a little bit of wildness here, in fact it really gets me going.” Jack takes your hand as he claims your mouth, guiding it to the front of his jeans. You arch into the kiss, your teeth grazing his lower lip, pulling it hard enough to elicit a low moan as you stroke his cock through the denim.

“You’re a big boy.” You tease as your fingers squeeze the very visible erection in his jeans. “You’ll have to get me nice and wet to make sure you fit the next time we’re together.”

Jack huffs a laugh against your mouth. His hand slides down the curve of your throat, fingertips toying with the neckline of your t-shirt, tugging at it. “Why don’t you take this off, show me what you’re working with?”

Your fingers hook underneath the hem, drawing it up along your torso in a slow reveal. It’s meant to be a tease, to prolong the sensuality and Jack, he runs with it, helping to guide it up your body, over that coral pink bra. He stops when the shirt covers your eyes, your mouth the only part of your face visible to him. His palm rests on your throat, his thumb tipping your jaw up to meet his mouth.

“Oh, you like being blindfolded.” He murmurs against your lips. “Maybe that’s something we can explore with some of your future videos. I could tie you up, have my wicked way with you. Maybe, I’ll even invite a friend.”

It’s another upsell, another potential hook for your fanbase to sink their teeth into but Christ, Robby finds it hard not to imagine himself in that role. Jack keeping him steady, while the two of them explore your boundaries.

Your breath hitches at the thought as he pulls the t-shirt off the rest of the way, draping it over the arm of the casting couch. His hands are back on you, smoothing over your skin, chasing over your curves as his mouth skims along the hollow of your throat, teeth grazing your sensitive skin.

“These are beautiful.” He cups your breasts between his hands, thumbs ghosting over your nipples through the bra. He teases them into peaks so that they strain against the lace. It’s a titillation, a maddening one that will keep everyone watching as they wait for the reveal. “I can imagine how good my cock would look like between them.”

His mouth delves lower, his stubble kissing your skin as he seeks out your left nipple. He draws it into his mouth, sucking it through the fabric, making your body arch against his. Your hand threads through his relentless grey curls, gripping them as your head tilts back, hair spilling over your shoulders so Robby can get a clearer shot of the action.

“Maybe we switch it up a little.” Jack murmurs, turning his attention to the other breast, his teeth nipping at that needy little bud through the lace. “Maybe I jerk off all over your tits instead, show our viewers how good you’d look covered in their cum. Would you like that?”

It’s a question, one of consent for you and a heads up for Robby to change his positioning. You respond by reaching behind you and unhooking your bra, it falls away revealing the most perfect, natural tits that Robby has ever seen. “Well lover, I wouldn’t want you to make a mess on my brand-new lingerie, not after I took all that time choosing it especially for you.”

Another hook for the audience, another thing that brings that sense of connection. They all know you didn’t choose it for Jack, you chose it for them, so they could see you take it off.

Jack’s hand moves back to his jeans, but you push it out of the way, taking over. Surprise crosses his features and Robby has to bite back a laugh. He warned the other man that you were a wildcard, he guess he didn’t realise just how much until now.

“I’m supposed to show you what I can do, remember?” You tease, your lips trailing along his throat, mouth sucking on that naughty little spot he didn’t even know existed just underneath the hinge of his jaw. Your clever hands are already unfastening the button and drawing down the zipper. Jack looks completely swept away in the moment, a groan punching out of his chest as you grasp his dick. “It’s no fun if you do it yourself.”

You help him shove his trousers down his hips, they get stuck around his knees but he doesn’t seem to care because you’re kissing him again and his cock jutting out. Red, desperate, leaking. You break apart long enough for you to use your fingertip to scoop a bead of pre-cum from the tip before placing it between those heart shaped lips of yours. You make a pleased sound as you lick it off your finger, as if Jack Abbot is the best thing you’ve ever tasted.

“I know I’m not allowed a blow you right now.” You murmur as your fingers wrap around Jack’s cock, thumb running over the head as more pre-cum spurts from the slit. “But I am very much looking forward to getting your dick in my mouth during our next video.”

That there, that’s the money maker. Those are the words that are going to have their phonelines jammed with people desperate to pre-order the next movie when this video hits the fan club.

You start to stroke, keeping yourself positioned off to Jack’s side so that Robby can focus on the thrust of his hips, on the way you jerk him to the point that his chest is heaving, that flush of pink creeping up his neck staining his freckles.

“Gonna come, Honey.” Jack whispers, tilting his head so that his eyes meet yours. Your free hand caresses his cheek, tracing over the greying stubble that lines his jaw. It’s a soft gesture, from one lover to another, affectionate, warm. It adds another layer to your legacy, another thing for the audience to fall in love with. “Lie down for me so I can do it all over your tits.”

You shimmy down onto the couch as he strips off his pants, his knees straddle your waist, his prosthetic limb tucking in against the couch cushions, keeping the mechanics away from your skin. Your hair fans out across the velvet and Robby shifts the camera closer, lingering over Jack’s shoulder for a POV shot.

You lie there looking up at him, those eyes filled with sin as you play with those tits of yours, plucking at the nipples, keeping them hard. Jack’s ragged breathing fills his ears as he jerks his cock, rough, hard, the desperation of a man who’s teetering on the edge.

“This is the money shot, baby.” You say to the camera. “I don’t want you to hold back.”

Jack climaxes with a feral groan, one that tears from his throat as white hot jets of cum arc across your breasts, covering them like pearls. Robby keeps the camera focused on you, on that cum dripping down your nipples into the valley of your breasts.

It’ll make a great picture, one that they’ve have you sign like a love letter when they send out the fan club package for a personalised touch.

“That’s a wrap.” Robby declares as he ceases recording, withdrawing to his original position by the tripod. Jesse lowers the boom mic, retreating to his audio set up.

Jack shifts his weight off you, his hand taking yours, helping you to sit up as Robby reaches for the baby wipes and the fresh set of towels they keep nearby.

“You did so well.” He praises as he hands them off to you and Jack to clean yourselves up with. “You kept your focus on Jack, and only looked at the camera for the POV shot at the end. It couldn’t gone better.”

“Not hard to do when you’re working with a complete rockstar like this guy.” You nudge Jack with your shoulder as you wipe his cum your tits.

Most people, their overwhelmed in the aftermath of something like this, but you seem fine, taking it in your stride. It’s the difference, he guesses, when it comes to working with someone with life experience.

“Ten out of ten, would come on again.” Jack remarks drily with that trademark smirk of his. “I think we’ve got a star on our hands with this one.”

You grin up at him and for Robby, it feels like the sun is shining on him all over again.

“Yeah.” He says, crossing his arms over his chest as he smiles down at you. “Yeah, I think we have.”

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SET AFTER:

Rockstar - Brendon Park meets his match against PTMC’s fiery new attending.

Pussy Wagon - A spilled drink leads you to see a different side of your nemesis Park The Shark.

The First Time (NSFW) - Fireworks aren’t the only explosive thing happening at Jesse’s Fourth of July party.

A Loaded Gun (NSFW) - Hate sex has never been so fucking hot…

This Is Not A Love Story - Brandon tries to set a rule after a ‘sticky’ situation.

The Game - Brendon finds himself breaking his own rules when it comes to you.

Tell. Me. To. Stop (NSFW) - Jealousy is not an emotion Brendon Park is accustomed to.

Pittfest -Brendon comforts you when you fall apart after the events of Pittfest.

Is He Prettier Than Me? - Brandon gets curious when he learns you have other plans.

Confetti (NSFW) - Brendon Park doesn't do night clubs...

The Drawer - Brendon realises your relationship may be shifting when he discovers he has a drawer at your place.

Scrunchies - Scrunchies… they’re the downfall of Brendon Park.

Love Games (NSFW) - Brendon and you love to play games, especially with each other.

An Exquisite Form of Torture (NSFW) - Brendon continues to turn up the heat as he holds you captive.

Authentic - You and Jesse discuss your situationship with Brendon after you see him with another woman.

THAT Guy - Brendon is forced to face up to his feelings for you when he finds out your meeting up with an ex.

Seven Days - Seven days is far too long to go without you…

Save It - A thirty six hour shift leads to another admission about your relationship with Brendon.

Doctor Dick - Brendon’s day takes a turn when Whitaker gives him some critical information.

A Manipulative Fuck - You and Brendon discuss what happened with your ex.

The Call (NSFW) - Brendon decides to put a stop to David’s calls once and for all.

The One That Hates The Ravens - David’s attempt at revenge backfires spectacularly.

The Lovin Spoonful - You wake up to an unexpected surprise.

Delete, Block, Rinse, Repeat - A series of cryptic messages force Brendon to confront a secret he’s been keeping for almost a decade.

His Father’s Son - Brendon reflects on the past as he debates taking that first sip of whiskey.

The Cost of Dignity - Brendon’s greatest secret comes with a cost.

A Kiss For Luck - Brendon struggles to navigate working at the hospital after the release of THAT video.

The Craziest Fucking Thing - You take matters into your own hands after receiving bad news from Brendon.

Ride Or Die - You wake up to the sound of an angry blender after Brendon discovers what happened with Rowena.

Baby Shark - Once a year Brendon always ends up back at the aquarium.

Diamonds (NSFW) - A bet leads to naughty shenanigans in a five star restaurant.

The Call Out - Brendon’s focus on wedding planning is disrupted when he’s called out to the scene of a multi-car pile up.

Good Hands - Abbot reminds Brendon you’re in good hands as they proceed with the amputation.

Flayed - Brendon’s world crashes down as he learns the truth about the accident.

Ten Things I Love About You - Brendon discovers a pink envelope in the pocket of the jacket you were wearing at the time of the accident.

The Parent Trap - Brendon faces your parents, leading to a surprise revelation.

Sledgehammer - Brendon struggles to cope in the aftermath of everything that’s happened.

Et Tu Marianne? - Your mother throws Brendon under the bus after you wake up from surgery.

Roses - Brendon is forced to deal with a vindictive POS when a dozen red roses are delivered to your door.

The Fucking Patient - Abbot has some harsh words for Brendon regarding your care.

Chemistry - You and Brendon finally have a moment alone to talk.

A Serial Absconder - Your habit of disappearing leads to a healing journey Brendon doesn’t expect.

The Best the Ravens Have Ever Looked (NSFW) - Brendon has a real problem with your shorts.

Home - Brendon introduces you to your new home after the accident.

The Change Up - When you struggle to reacclimate at home Brendon realises you need a change up.

The Body Pillow - Brendon and you settle in for your first night at the new house.

Rae Days - You're forced to navigate your new limitations when Brendon returns to work full time.

The Liberator - Brandon asks Abbot's for advice with a very particular problem.

Grounded - Brendon gets a surprise when his brother turns up on his doorstep unexpectedly.

Watermelon Sugar (NSFW) - Brendon uses your favourite song against you when the sex cushion comes out to play.

Suck (NSFW) - Brendon's dommy side finally comes out to play for the first time since the accident.

You’re not supposed to use the new leg for this…

That’s what Brendon wants to tell you, the problem is its pretty fucking hard when you’re leaning over the kitchen table dressed in a sheer black body suit with dozens of stars woven into it. The translucent material frames that perfect peach of an ass, making his dick pulse as he watches you rock your hips against the table, testing your new leg’s manoeuvrability.

The doctor in him wants to tell you to give it a rest, to stick to your treatment plan. You’re only supposed to spend between 30-60 minutes on the damn thing during the first day and you’ve already over done that by running out and buying the lingerie you’re currently clad in.  

The man in him though, he wants to ravage you, to bend you over that table and fuck you until you’re coming all over his cock, until you’re filled to the brim with his cum. His dick throbs in the confines of his jeans, straining against the zipper as he tilts his head, getting a glimpse of the most perfect pussy, hiding between your thighs. You glance at him over your shoulder, that wicked look in your eyes, the one that sets his blood on fire as you arch your back like a cat.

“You’re not going to help me test it out?” You pout.

The way your back curves presents your ass to him once again. He wants to bite it, leave his teeth marks in the flesh, to spank it until it’s red raw and you’re begging for him to fuck that needy little cunt of yours.

“I’m trying to be a really good boy here.” His arm wraps around your waist, his lips running up the side of your throat until his breath ghosts in your ear. “But you are making it incredibly difficult.”

“I don’t want the good boy.” You lean back against him, your back slotting perfectly against his chest as he breathes in the scent of your shampoo. Your ass is nestled in the cradle of his pelvis, his cock resting between your ass cheeks through the denim. “I want the man that makes me scream.”

He laughs into your ear. It’s a rough sound, one that reverberates through your entire body as his foot slides between your legs, his boot kicking the good one aside, spreading you wider. The prosthesis takes the weight as you place your palms on the table to steady your balance.

“You’re such a bad girl Rae.” He whispers as his fingertips trail along the elastic that clings to your ass, twanging it. The snap vibrates through the room, your pussy soaking the sheer as the light sting ignites your nerve endings. “And bad girls get spanked.”

The first hit, shunts your hips against the table. Heat blossoms through your body as your back bows, a moan tearing from your throat. Brendon’s fingers tangle in your hair, wrapping it around his fist. Your scalp prickles with electricity, the lightning shooting down your spine as he pulls it, keeping your head tilted up towards the ceiling.

He strikes again, harder this time. The groan that leaves your mouth is feral, your pussy dripping with need as his hand delves between your thighs, fingers stroking over you. “Love that you got dressed up for me, makes me feel like the luckiest man in the damn world knowing I get to have you.”

His belt clunks and you think about asking for the kiss of leather across your ass, but it’s been too long since you’ve had him, since you’ve felt the hot press of his cock inside you, his deep thrusts and powerful strokes.

Next time, you promise yourself. Next time you’ll ask him to use the belt before he worships your pussy.

“Oh God, I need you.” He mutters as his zipper slides down, the teeth parting to make way for his desperate dick. The denim scratches at your thighs as he shoves his jeans down past his hips, his underwear going along with them. His shirt disappears, tossed God knows where in his urgency. “I’ve been trying to hold back baby, but I just don’t think I can anymore.”

His fingertips tease along the sheer that covers your ass, all the way to those discreet little buttons between your ass and pussy. He unfastens them one by one, freeing the damp fabric and baring you to him.

“Tell me you need me, Rae.” He whispers, notching his cock at your entrance. Your wetness smears over the tip as he rocks slowly, barely exerting enough pressure for you to part around him. “Tell me that you need me, just as much as I need you.”

“You know I do.” Your head tips back into his shoulder, as his mouth finds that deviant little spot underneath the hinge of your jaw, his teeth marking you. “I’ve been waiting for this for so long Brendon.”

He eases into you slowly, inch by inch, giving you time to adjust after months of emptiness. He curses his relief into your hair before he pulls out, his face tilting down to watch where the two of you join as he surges back in.

“God, Rae.” He whispers, his palms framing yours on the kitchen table as he buries himself all the way to the hilt. He says there, his cock nestled against that sweet spot, savouring that moment of connection. “Noone else can ruin me like this.”

He keeps a slow, frantic pace, a targeted attack on that bundle of nerves igniting your body like the fireworks at that Fourth of July party where this all started. His hand slips down your stomach, delving between your thighs, seeking out your clit.  

He starts to draw circles, deviant little patterns that send sparks shooting through your synapses that build into stars. He keeps his thrusts steady, each one striking its target, adding kindling to those burning bundles of white-hot heat. They grow, and they grow until you’re at the precipice of pleasure, until your breath is hitched, each one punctuated with an overwhelmed whine as Brendon keeps you pinned against that table, his own body trembling, his teeth gritting as he tries to stave off his own pleasure.

You start to quiver, your entire body on fire as the ecstasy hits you in a rush, combusting under your skin with the power of a thousand suns. It’s glorious, it’s overwhelming, it’s everything you need and more as Brendon chases you over that edge, his own release spurting inside you as he climaxes with you, fucking his spent as deep as he can.

“Oh god, that felt so good...” You mutter, your head tipping forward, your hair spilling over your features. “I’ve really missed-oh shit!”

Your knee buckles, the prosthesis slipping out from under you. You almost faceplant the table but as always Brendon’s there to catch you, to keep you supported as he nudges the foot back underneath you, giving you back that pillar.

“I think we pushed it a little too far.” He says, gently turning you to face him. He pulls up his underwear and jeans, leaving them unfastened before lifting you onto the table.  “Let’s get you off you leg and I can assess the damage.”

He kneels before you, his hand smoothing over the plastic before he removes the leg with a practised ease. The relief is palpable. You didn’t realise just how much until he pops it off your stump. He’s careful when he strips off the liner, but you still wince as he gets to the bottom of the limb, his fingertips tracing over the flesh that’s been rubbed raw.

“I didn’t realise how much it hurt until now.” You say, leaning back on your palms as he rises to his feet and picks up a clean dishtowel before soaking it with warm water.

“It’s the sex endorphins.” He returns to the table and begins to clean the chaffed skin. “We were too busy enjoying ourselves to notice. You got your antibacterial cream up there?”

You reach for your prescription bag, sifting through items until you find it. He dabs it across his fingers, rubbing it in gently across the soreness on residual limb.

“Is this weird?” You ask him, fiddling with the engagement ring on your finger. “You doing this after dicking me down? Tonight was supposed to be perfect…”

He tilts his head up to meet your gaze, the crease appearing between his dark brows as he studies you. You don’t make eye contact, you just focus on that ring, on twirling it around your finger, pulling at it until it’s half on, half off.

Abbot’s words come back to haunt him.

Rae… she’s going to tell you she’s fine about the way her body has changed, and she probably will be, but it takes a minute to come to terms with it especially when it comes to sex. Things you thought worked don’t and sometimes it can be demoralising because you realise things can’t go back to the way they were.

That’s what’s happening now, because despite the fact everything being the same between you, the physicality is different.

To Brendon that’s part of the fun, you get to learn things together.

To you…maybe it hits a little differently.

“This is just another part of aftercare.” He says, pushing to his feet. His hands come to rest on either side of your thighs, caging you in so that the two of you are as close as you can be. “Tonight was perfect. I got to have outrageous sex with the woman I love for the first time…” His fingers pull lightly at the sheer of the body suit, reminding you of its presence. “She wore this filthy little thing for me. I couldn’t have asked for a better night.”

“Are you sure this is what you want?” You say, the ring still hovering over your knuckle. “Because I would understand-”

“There’s nothing to understand.” His fingers cover yours, sliding that ring back down to the place where it belongs. “You’re what I want. You always have been, you always will be.”

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Set After:

Souvenir (NSFW) - Jack Abbot doesn’t do this, he doesn’t fuck strangers in bars.

Set Before:

The Research Paper - A incendiary research paper takes Caleb in a direction he never predicted.

Exes & Ohs - Caleb and you find out you have something in common over dinner.

A Good Girl (NSFW) - Caleb learns how much of a good girl you really are.

A Frigid Bitch - Kirk unveils your secret to the entire E.D after discovering you’re seeing Caleb.

A Beautiful Burst of Chaos - Caleb doesn’t notice the lipstick stain until a client points it out.

Matchmaker - Robby’s realisation about your relationship with Caleb leads to a conversation he doesn’t expect.

Grease Monkey - You didn’t know you had a thing for grease monkeys before you met Caleb.

No Fucking Words (NSFW) - Caleb doesn’t have words for the things you do to him.

Pinwheel (NSFW) - A pinwheel has never been a thing of pleasure for Caleb, not before you.

The Bad News (NSFW) - Things take a turn when Robby receives a 911 text from Caleb.

The Open Door - Caleb and Robby get real with each in the aftermath of the threesome.

A Feral Cat - Michael Robinavitch is the human equivalent of a feral cat.

Good Girl (NSFW) - Caleb and Jesse make sure you know what a good girl you are.

Right Here - Caleb and you make a promise to each other.

The kiss shouldn’t have happened.

Neither should the one-night stand that turned into two, and then the week of Caleb fucking Jack Abbot. He shouldn’t be falling in love with Jack Abbot, especially not with Robby on sabbatical, especially not with him coming back next week.

They’re not technically doing anything wrong since their relationships with Robby were over with years ago, but they still played a part in his inevitable breakdown. Jack by pushing him away to heal himself, and Caleb by keeping his own secrets regarding how he was handling his own condition.

Robby thought it meant that he wasn’t good enough for them but that was far from the truth, the truth is they weren’t good enough of him, not at that moment in time. Maybe not even in this moment of time where they’re both in therapy still dealing with their demons.

“We have to stop.” Caleb says tonight as he lies fucked out in his sheets. Jack is lying alongside him, staring at the ceiling as he tries to catch his breath. He’s a thorough, vigorous lover with a wicked streak that rivals Caleb’s own. And creative, very creative, especially when it comes to Caleb’s situation. “He’s coming back next week and I don’t want to be the reason he falls again. I know you don’t either.”

“No, I don’t.” Jack sighs, his fingers entwining with Caleb’s. “I just wish…”

Another time, another place maybe this could have worked.

But with Robby’s mental health so fragile…

They have to do what’s best for him.

“I’ll miss this.” Jack says with a sad smile as he tilts his head to look into Caleb’s eyes. There’s so much turmoil in them. so much yearning. Caleb feels it too in the depths of his heart. The promise of what might have been.

“Yeah.” Caleb says with a rough voice as he leans in for  final kiss. “I’ll miss this too.”

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SET AFTER:

First Blood - Titus’s first hunt takes an unexpected turn…

Ma Biche - An act of vengence at your Swiss boarding school has dire consquences for your future.

White Lilies - A boutique of flowers leads you to make a decision about your predicament.

Just A Taste (NSFW) - Titus gives you a taste of your wedding night… and reveals the Danforth’s great secret.

First Times (NSFW) - Titus decides to give you another first after you ask him to teach you what he likes.

A Red Wedding - You and Titus tie the knot in an unexpected place.

SET BEFORE:

The Goddess & The Hell Hound: Titus Danforth x Reader (NSFW) - One year after the horrific events in Paris, Titus and his wife begin to heal in their own special way.

The Game - Tonight’s game night is a special event.

Come Out, Come Out Wherever You Are (NSFW) - Torture is just the foreplay, it’s death that’s the main event.

The Farrier - Titus wakes up to screaming and ends up going on an inpromptu hunt of his own.

Punishment (NSFW) - Titus decides to teach you a lesson after the events of The Farrier.

Shock Value (NSFW) - Titus surprises you with a special gift after your night goes awry.

Titus expects you to be shy your first time.

He expects you to be nervous, anxious but instead you’re bold, fierce. You straddle his hips like the queen you are, fingers toying with the buttons of his shirt as your wedding dress, made of stars, blood and fire settles around you in a hotel suite in New York.

“I have wanted this for so long.” His voice is rough, a low rumble that vibrates through your chest as his fingers guide the zipper down along the curve of your spine, the fabric revealing you inch by decadent inch. “I’ve always known you were mine. That every part of me was made for every part of you.”

The neckline loosens, slipping from your shoulders. He helps it the rest of the way, freeing you of its confines until the techni-colour fabric pools around your waist. You’re breathtaking in the light from the chandelier, the crystals reflect a warm, dulcet glow across your skin as you lean back on your palms, your breasts arching up, desperate for his wanton mouth.

His fingertips trace patterns over your bare skin, weaving fiery hot trails up along your waist until his palms find those two pert little rose buds. His thumbs tracing over their outline until they stiffen into deviant peaks. His arm loops around your hips, drawing your entire body back against him. He draws your left nipple into his mouth, tongue swirling over that needy nub, making you cry out as it whispers against his teeth.

Your hands roam underneath his suit jacket, pushing it from his shoulders. He watches as you unfasten each of the buttons on his shirt, your urgency growing underneath his lips as he sucks his mark into the hollow of your throat, purple blossoming against your skin. His forehead presses against yours as the shirt is vanquished, your fingertips beginning their exploration of his muscular chest. They trace over the scars he’s accumulated during his brief amount of time on this earth, the ones his father left when he disobeyed.

“I’m not pretty like you.” He says apologetically as you trace over ridged edges and raised skin.

“I wouldn’t say that’s true.” You whisper back, the edges of your mouth tipping up into that smile he fell in love with. “I happen to think you’re very pretty.”

He huffs out a laugh as your nose trails down along the curve of his throat, your mouth leaving heated kisses that make his insides light up like the Fourth of July. He tumbles you down underneath him, the dress fanning out around your hips as he claims your mouth, crushing the fabric between you. He grasps the remains of your dress, the material coiling in his fist as he drags it down along the rest of your body, throwing it from the mattress.

Your hands fumble with his belt, tugging the leather tongue from the silver buckle with a franticness he feels in the depths of his bones as he watches.

“Take these off.” You demand, wrestling with the clasp. “I want to feel all of you.”

He pulls away reluctantly, already missing the warmth of your skin as he shoves them down his thighs along with his underwear. His cock slaps against his stomach, leaving a smear of pre-cum across his treasure trail that glistens in under the chandelier.

The way you look at him in that moment… like he’s something to be revered, to be adored.

It’s a powerful feeling, one that sweeps him off his feet everytime as he climbs with on the bed full of feral intention. His body covers yours, draping over you like a heated blanket, enveloping you in his warmth. Your thighs fasten around his hips, your foot hooking underneath his ass, welcoming him into that hot, delicate space between your legs. He groans into your mouth as his cock rubs through your wetness, coating him with your arousal. The tip of his cock catches, and you whine, your fingertips daggering into his shoulders as he hovers at the breech, petals barely parted around the head of his dick.

“If it gets too much tell me.” He murmurs, his dark eyes locked on yours, pools of nighttime sky scattered with stars. “I want this to be good for you… I want…”

You tilt your hips and the air punches out of his chest as you take that first inch. He hisses through his teeth at the sensation, that balmy tightness hugging the tip of his cock as he tries to keep his shit together and let you adjust.

“Oh.” You whisper and it’s good sound, a desperate one that has him pulling out and driving in another inch, watching your face intently. A whimper leaves your mouth, your head tipping back into the pillow as he repeats the action again and again until he’s fully sheathed inside you.

“Oh god that feels so good, that feels…”

Your breath is stolen as he starts to move, slow, careful thrusts that have your heart quickening as you fall into rhythm with him. Your hands run up his back, his mouth capturing yours as he chases your pleasure like the good husband he is, listening to your ebbs and flows, following the current as it builds and builds like waves on the ocean, pounding against the shore. The tide breaks and suddenly you’re clenching around his dick, teeth sinking into his shoulder with a savagery that makes his cock pulse inside you. He spills his release deep, white hot streaks painting you with his spent as he claims his virgin bride.

His kisses are messy and languid as you lay breathless underneath him, your thighs gripping him, keeping him buried deep as his auburn curls fall over his features.

“Is it always like this?” You ask him, your fingertips tracing over his jaw as you look at him the way he’d always hoped you would. With eyes made only for him.

“No.” He whispers, his thumb ghosts over the apple of your flushed cheek as he speaks his truth. “It’s only ever been like this with you.”

It’s when you head into the bathroom to shower that he spots the blood on the sheets. It’s a small crimson smear, evidence of your consummation, of a virginity given, not taken. He tears them from the mattress before calling the concierge, demanding fresh ones.

When they arrive, he shoves the bloodied ones into her arms with a smugness in his smile and a tone that threatens death unless his instructions are followed to the letter.

“Send these to Charles Laurate.” He tells the poor woman as she clutches them to her chest. “I want him to know exactly what he lost tonight.”

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SET AFTER:

Sassy - Dana's world is turned upside down when a face from her past appears at PTMC.

Choir Girl/Wild Girl - Dana's world is turned upside down when a face from her past appears at PTMC.

The Ghostwriter - The past collides with the present when a ghostwriter turns up, hell bent on learning what happened in New York all those years ago.

That night Dana dreams of you.

She lies beside her husband, who tosses and turns in their sheets, and she disappears back to an apartment in Brooklyn, one with gauzy drapes flittering over the open windows, the breeze chasing over her bare skin as she lays underneath you on a second-hand couch. Your face buried between her thighs for the first time, those musician’s fingers pumping a slow, steady rhythm, strumming at the notes of her pleasure.

Song pages are scattered across the coffee table, half scribbled out lyrics in her writing, notes and chords in yours. She grips one of them in her fist, the paper crumpling as the most exquisite pleasure coils in her muscles, winding tighter and tighter until it’s stretched taut like one of your guitar strings ready to snap.

“Don’t stop.” She chants, her voice drowned out by Joan Jett’s I Hate Myself for Loving You, skipping on the record player. “Don’t stop, don’t stop-”

She comes with a curse, that sweet honey gushing all over your fingers before you withdraw them, replacing them with your tongue. The sensation is new, even filthier as you pin her thighs open, eating her out like a woman possessed. She grips your hair, forcing you deeper and within seconds is coming again, soaking  the lower half of your face.

You grin as you pull away and she looks at you like she’s seen God as you kiss your way up her body, steadying her as that overwhelmed feeling starts to kick in. “First time you’ve come on a woman’s tongue?” You ask, already knowing the answer. She nods shyly and your thumb ghosts over her flushed cheek as your nose chases over hers. “I know it’s a lot but I’m right here, ok? I meant what I said, this isn’t just about sex for me.”

“I know.” She mumbles against your mouth, tasting herself on you. Her fingers tangle in your hair, and you moan into her mouth as her own hands delves in between you, fingertips skimming along the elastic waistband. “I want to try.”

“Oh baby, we aren’t in a rush.” You whisper but that doesn’t stop her from peeling off your panties, from kissing a heated trail down along your stomach, from exploring you with her tongue and discovering that her suspicions were indeed correct, that she loves the taste of pussy far more than she’s ever loved the taste of dick.

Bang! Bang! Bang!

She jerked from the dream by the sound of knocking from the front door downstairs. Her heart thuds against her chest, the space between her thighs sticky and damp. She picks up her phone, her eyes blurring as she struggles to process the time against the backlight.

3.15am.

She rolls over to wake Benji, but his side of the bed is vacant, the sheets cold as he runs her palm across them. He’s been having trouble sleeping lately, he says it’s work but she knows it’s more. She’s been waiting for the inevitable axe to drop for a while, and now she suspects it’s here.

She slips from the sheets, changing her underwear before she pulls on the hand printed robe that her husband got her for Christmas. The material feels cool against her heated skin, a soothing balm against what’s to come. She can hear voices as she opens the bedroom door and descends the stairs, the hushed whispers of Benji and another man, one she recognises from church.

They fall silent as she reaches the final step, both heads swivelling to face her. One guilty, one tortured.

“Father Neal.” She addresses her husband’s boyfriend and the associate pastor at their church. “You better come in.”

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SET AFTER:

The Neurologist - Robby doesn't think much of Jack's friend The Neurologist...

Cuffs - Robby makes a discovery when a pair of handcuffs malfunctions at a crucial time.

Bed Rotting - Robby starts to blow up his life after you return to Seattle.

Divorce Papers - Jack gives a couple of home truths to Robby after he finds out he signed your divorce papers.

A Fucking Nightmare - Robby’s worst nightmare comes true when his ex-wife shows up as a guest at Dana’s vow renewal ceremony.

Regrets - Robby can't help but think about his regrets after seeing his ex-wife for the first time since he signed the divorce papers.

Unread - Robby turns to Jack when you don't respond to his message

The Call - Robby takes the plunge and decides to call you, leading to a surprising revelation.

Shepherd - Robby's world is turned upside down when he receives a call from Derek Shepherd.

It’s 11pm when Robby finally lands at Seattle-Tacoma International Airport. The time difference has his head spinning as he slings his carry on over his shoulder and hails a cab from the 3rd floor of the parking garage.

The journey to Seattle Grace takes nineteen minutes, and Robby spends that entire time running through all the logistics of the next few days, sending emails to Jack and the administration about covering the next weeks’ worth of shifts he’s going to be missing.

When he gets out of the cab, he checks the room details that Derek Shepherd sent him before he asks the woman at the front desk for directions. At this time of the evening the hospital is a ghost town, the spectres of nightshift staff haunting the halls. They don’t spare him a second glance as he strides by, and the feeling is mutual.  

It’s in the Neurology Ward that he starts to raise eyebrows. Apparently, Shepherd’s pulled some strings, got situated you in a room situated in a room there despite the fact you’re only here for short term observation. The staff he’s talking to right now are your staff and they’re all very aware of your ex-husband.

“She didn’t say he looked like that...” He hears one of the nurse’s say as he walks down the quiet corridor to your room. “Dr Hunt is going to have some stiff competition.”

Owen Hunt, he summarises.

He lingers for a second outside your room, checking he still has the treats he’s smuggled in from the airport in his pockets before pushing open the door.

The light falls across your sleeping features, your face tilted towards the flowers on the cabinet, a bouquet of expensive white roses. Their clean, clinical, almost like the man sitting alongside your bed, his furious blue eyes focused on Robby.

They don’t need an introduction.

Owen Hunt is everything Robby expected from his 30 minutes of Googling after that phone call the two of you had a couple of weeks ago. He rises to his feet with the same military posturing as Jack, his hand squeezing yours before he jabs his finger at the corridor outside, an unmistakable signal for Robby to get out so that they can have a frank conversation.

It’s clear that this is a man used to giving orders, that he expects Robby to just fall in line like a good soldier. He wants to rebel, to tell him to fuck off but his gaze falls to you, how peaceful you look and he really does not want to disturb you.

“How’s she doing?” They’re the first words out of Robby’s mouth when they both step out into the corridor.

Owen closes the door behind him, crossing his arms over his chest, physically barring Robby’s entrance to the room like an overzealous bouncer at a night club. “Better, but drowsy from the pain meds.” Owen concedes before giving Robby a pointed look. “You didn’t need to come here. I have it handled.”

Robby laughs, it’s a cruel sound that has Owen’s jaw clenching, his molars grinding against each other as he glares at Robby. “If that were true, I wouldn’t be here at all now. She wouldn’t be in a hospital bed-”

Owen cuts him off with a dismissive shake of his head. “You’re here because she forgot to change a name on a form. You couldn’t even be bothered to phone in your marriage so what makes you think you can be here for her now-”

“You don’t know anything about our marriage.” Robby snarls, his voice echoing down the empty corridor.

Owen snorts, the left side of his mouth twisting up into a scornful sneer. “I’m the man who picked up the pieces. And you are the one that ruined her, that destroyed her, that shattered the fundamental parts of her that would even consider-”

“Oh Jesus Christ, are you vying to be husband number two, is that it?” Robby snaps, his hands on his hips as he squares up to the other man. And in that moment, he realises, that maybe Owen’s already asked, that maybe that’s the reason the two of you broke up.

“She can’t commit because of you. You broke her fucking heart-”

“Or maybe she just didn’t want to marry you.” Robby retorts, drawing himself up to his full height. He only has an inch on Owen but it’s enough for him to see the audacity in the other man’s eyes before he strikes the killing blow. “The guy that deletes her texts when she’s out of the room. Talk about red fucking flags.”

Owen opens his mouth to clap back but he’s cut off by the sound of the door opening behind him. He shifts out of the way and they both stare at you, standing there in the doorway in a hospital grown that falls past your knees. “You two seriously need to knock this shit off. I can hear you both on the other side of this door which means other people can as well.”

“Vivian, you should be in bed.” Owen tries to cajole you like a naughty child.

The look you give him could shrivel a set of testicles at ten paces. Robby physically flinches because he’d been the recipient of it himself once or twice throughout your marriage.

“Owen, go home. You’re not needed here.” You assert, flicking your wrist to vanquish him. “And Robby…”

He reaches into his pockets withdrawing a bar of 80% dark chocolate to boost your magnesium and a small multi-berry smoothie that’s supposed to combat oxidative stress caused by the injury.

As a neurologist this is your comfort food.

“You can stay.” You concede.

“Vivian…” Owen tries, his voice is rough, pained.  

“I’m not going to change my mind, Owen.” You sound tired, as if this is a repeat of a much older conversation. “I’m leaving Seattle, the concussion may delay that by a couple of days but I’m still going.”

His shoulders slump, his lips withdrawing into a grim line as his forehead creases. For a moment Robby almost feels sorry for him but then the other man turns on his heel and storms down the corridor, his left hand clenched into a fist. He knows he has issues but fuck… he can’t help but think you dodged a bullet with that one.

“So that was almost Husband Number Two huh?” Robby remarks as you slump against the doorframe watching him go. The energy seems to have drained out of you, the extreme fatigue caused by the concussion catching up.

“No.” You sigh, tilting your head up to meet Robby’s gaze. “He was never going to be Husband Number Two.”

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Companion piece to:

A Red Velvet Original - After doing a guest spot on Javadi’s podcast, Jack discovers there may be a niche for a voice like his.

NotTheDoctor - Jack's receives a surprise gift after his first foray into audio erotica goes viral.

The Stakeout - Determined to discover who Red Velvet is, Jack stakes out a notebook full of Quinn episodes left at the nurse's station.

The Pussycat Club - Jack learns the real identity of Red Velvet after visiting The Pussy Cat Club for the first time.

The Quinn Archives:

Principessa – A forbidden romance between a mafia heiress and her bodyguard is threatened when her father insists it’s time for her to marry. [M4F] [Mafia Romance] [Starcrossed Lovers] [Older Man] [Age Gap] [MDom] [Fingering] [We Might Get Caught] [Possessive]

Ever since that night at the Pussy Cat Club, Jack had been dreaming about you. Although dreaming might not be the right word for it, rather he’s been fantasizing.

If he’s honest with himself, it started long before the club when you were simply the most competent nurse on the night shift. Back then he could chase those images away because he didn’t know what you looked like underneath your scrubs, but now he does.

Now he can’t stop thinking about just you and him in that dressing room after one of your shows, about your flushed skin and his hands unfastening the belt on your floral robe. How he’d look at you as it slipped open, drinking in bare skin and gold satin.

You wouldn’t remove it. You’d leave it on, fluttering around you like an aura as you’d force him into the chair at the dressing table. Torture him by returning to the chaise longue and making him watch as your fingers traced over the topstitching of the bra, thumb teasing over your nipple until it was pert and wanting.

“Take your dick out.” You’d say as you sat down on the edge of the antique couch, those biteable thighs of yours falling open. “I want to see what I do to you.”

He’d be hard and leaking when he unzipped his trousers, his cock an angry shade of red from desperation. He’d grip the base tightly in his fist, waiting like a good boy for permission.

It would come when your own fingers wound their way down to the soft fabric of your panties, the tips rubbing over your clit as the soaked satin clung to your pussy. He’d stroke his cock slowly, matching your rhythm, until you were slipping that underwear to the side, until he had the perfect view of your glistening cunt, honey spurting out of it as you come to the sight of him jerking off for you.

He’d keep the panties in the aftermath, tucking them into his pocket so he could fuck them when he got home-

“You’re such a complete space cadet today.” Your voice breaks though his fantasy as you nudge his shoulder to get his attention. The sudden proximity makes his skin feel like it’s on fire, like every touch is a loaded gun and he’ll die from ecstasy the moment you decide to pull the trigger. “I called your name three times, but it’s like you didn’t even hear me.”

Harder Jack… Just like that Jack… Please Jack…

He shakes off his naughty thoughts before tilting his face away from the screen of the tablet he’s been staring at. His focus comes to rest on you, on those hidden curves and soft lips.

The problem is now he’s had a taste of the real you. The side you keep tucked away from everyone else and it’s a call to his wild. Those things he saw, the things you write, they’ve awakened something in him, something that has been dormant ever since his wife passed away.

It has him questioning if these scripts of yours are your real fantasies, things you’ve always wanted to explore but never found the right person to experiment with. It also makes him wonder if you still listen to his sessions, if you get off to the sound of his voice, your fingers strumming your clit as he murmurs the most deviant things into your ear.

“Just thinking of the new manuscript you sent me.” His voice is gruff, making your teeth sink into your lower lip in a way that makes his cock twitch.

“The mafia thing not doing it for you?” You place your elbows on the desk as you lean in close, his co-conspirator in audio deviance. “I knew it was a bit of a risk doing something with a storyline…”

He shakes his head, indicating that’s not the issue.

“I like the storyline.” He admits as he glances around the floor, making sure there isn’t a chance of the two of you being overheard. “It feels good to become someone else for a minute, not having to be me all the time. I was thinking maybe we could explore that a little more. Maybe consider something episodic like those Quinn Originals.”

Your eyes light up like stars and he wonders if they’d look like that in the bedroom, tangled up in his sheets as he fucks you so hard that the only word in that pretty little head of yours is his name.

“That would be an interesting challenge.” You say in a voice that tells him you’re very much up for it. “We could start with three episodes, springboarding off Principessa and if there’s a market for it, it can become something we do regularly.”

“A Red Velvet Original.” The words roll from his tongue and it’s worth it to see that smile break across your features. “Maybe that’s how we frame the series.”

“Yeah.” You say thoughtfully, reaching under the desk and pulling out your notebook. “Maybe it is.”

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SET AFTER:

Rockstar - Brendon Park meets his match against PTMC’s fiery new attending.

Pussy Wagon - A spilled drink leads you to see a different side of your nemesis Park The Shark.

The First Time (NSFW) - Fireworks aren’t the only explosive thing happening at Jesse’s Fourth of July party.

A Loaded Gun (NSFW) - Hate sex has never been so fucking hot…

This Is Not A Love Story - Brandon tries to set a rule after a ‘sticky’ situation.

The Game - Brendon finds himself breaking his own rules when it comes to you.

Tell. Me. To. Stop (NSFW) - Jealousy is not an emotion Brendon Park is accustomed to.

Pittfest -Brendon comforts you when you fall apart after the events of Pittfest.

Is He Prettier Than Me? - Brandon gets curious when he learns you have other plans.

Confetti (NSFW) - Brendon Park doesn't do night clubs...

The Drawer - Brendon realises your relationship may be shifting when he discovers he has a drawer at your place.

Scrunchies - Scrunchies… they’re the downfall of Brendon Park.

Love Games (NSFW) - Brendon and you love to play games, especially with each other.

An Exquisite Form of Torture (NSFW) - Brendon continues to turn up the heat as he holds you captive.

Authentic - You and Jesse discuss your situationship with Brendon after you see him with another woman.

THAT Guy - Brendon is forced to face up to his feelings for you when he finds out your meeting up with an ex.

Seven Days - Seven days is far too long to go without you…

Save It - A thirty six hour shift leads to another admission about your relationship with Brendon.

Doctor Dick - Brendon’s day takes a turn when Whitaker gives him some critical information.

A Manipulative Fuck - You and Brendon discuss what happened with your ex.

The Call (NSFW) - Brendon decides to put a stop to David’s calls once and for all.

The One That Hates The Ravens - David’s attempt at revenge backfires spectacularly.

The Lovin Spoonful - You wake up to an unexpected surprise.

Delete, Block, Rinse, Repeat - A series of cryptic messages force Brendon to confront a secret he’s been keeping for almost a decade.

His Father’s Son - Brendon reflects on the past as he debates taking that first sip of whiskey.

The Cost of Dignity - Brendon’s greatest secret comes with a cost.

A Kiss For Luck - Brendon struggles to navigate working at the hospital after the release of THAT video.

The Craziest Fucking Thing - You take matters into your own hands after receiving bad news from Brendon.

Ride Or Die - You wake up to the sound of an angry blender after Brendon discovers what happened with Rowena.

Baby Shark - Once a year Brendon always ends up back at the aquarium.

Diamonds (NSFW) - A bet leads to naughty shenanigans in a five star restaurant.

The Call Out - Brendon’s focus on wedding planning is disrupted when he’s called out to the scene of a multi-car pile up.

Good Hands - Abbot reminds Brendon you’re in good hands as they proceed with the amputation.

Flayed - Brendon’s world crashes down as he learns the truth about the accident.

Ten Things I Love About You - Brendon discovers a pink envelope in the pocket of the jacket you were wearing at the time of the accident.

The Parent Trap - Brendon faces your parents, leading to a surprise revelation.

Sledgehammer - Brendon struggles to cope in the aftermath of everything that’s happened.

Et Tu Marianne? - Your mother throws Brendon under the bus after you wake up from surgery.

Roses - Brendon is forced to deal with a vindictive POS when a dozen red roses are delivered to your door.

The Fucking Patient - Abbot has some harsh words for Brendon regarding your care.

Chemistry - You and Brendon finally have a moment alone to talk.

A Serial Absconder - Your habit of disappearing leads to a healing journey Brendon doesn’t expect.

The Best the Ravens Have Ever Looked (NSFW) - Brendon has a real problem with your shorts.

Home - Brendon introduces you to your new home after the accident.

The Change Up - When you struggle to reacclimate at home Brendon realises you need a change up.

The Body Pillow - Brendon and you settle in for your first night at the new house.

Rae Days - You're forced to navigate your new limitations when Brendon returns to work full time.

The Liberator - Brandon asks Abbot's for advice with a very particular problem.

Grounded - Brendon gets a surprise when his brother turns up on his doorstep unexpectedly.

Watermelon Sugar (NSFW) - Brendon uses your favourite song against you when the sex cushion comes out to play.

You’re being wicked.

Brendon clocks it the moment he steps onto the decking in the back garden and finds you sitting on the outdoor sofa wearing a pair of his shades, blowing the hell out of a popsicle. Your eyes fix on his, lashes lowering as you hollow out your cheeks, the cherry flavoured treat gliding in and out of your mouth. Your nipples are poking through your Raven’s t-shirt like bullets, pert, hard and desperate for his tongue.

“Did you rub that over them because you knew I was coming through the door?” His cock strives for attention in his jeans, throbbing against the zipper as the popsicle leaves your mouth with naughty ‘pop’.

“No comment.”

His knee slips between yours, nudging your thighs apart, taking extra care not to knock against your residual limb. Your legs spread and he’s treated to the perfect view of almost white cotton shorts. You aren’t wearing any underwear underneath them, in fact he can see the outline of your pussy stark against the fabric, the perfect little cunt aching for him to play with.

“You been missing me my little rage machine?” He taunts as he sinks to his knees. The decking is hard underneath them, but he doesn’t give a shit, not when his girl is so clearly in need, not when he has for two months of lost time to make up. “Didn’t get enough of my mouth last night so you need a little more of me tonight.”

He guides your thighs over his shoulders, patting your right one to draw your attention to it. “That feel good? No pressure on your hip?”

You roll your eyes and push the popsicle between his lips in response. His teeth scrape across the surface, cherry bursting on his tongue as he bites off the tip, the ice crunching between his teeth. You withdraw it from his mouth. The chilled syrup spills down his chin as he dips his head between your thighs, pressed his cold mouth against the thin material of your shorts.

Your butt bounces up as the cold floods your senses. His tongue glides over you. A delicious tingle pulses through your pussy, making it clench. He can tell from the way you shift that your hip is strained. The problem is his baby girl wants him so God damn badly she’s willing to do herself a little damage just to get him. He adapts, removing your thighs from his shoulders, resetting them back to their original position.

You pout, a challenge.

And he eats it up like the finest candy as his strong, dexterous fingers wrap around your wrist, guiding that popsicle back between your lips. “Suck it like it’s my cock, show me how much you want me to fuck that mouth.” You hollow out your cheeks again, and his cock twitches in the confines his jeans as you draw it deeper down your throat. “That’s it Rae, show me how you like it.”

His fingers hook in the waistband of your shorts, pulling them down, helping you lift so get can get them underneath your ass until they pool around your ankle. Your pussy beckons him, glistening in the late evening sun. His eyes are on yours as he goes down on you again, his warm tongue lapping over your clit, licking up that sweet honey. The popsicle slips from your lips as you spit out a curse and he pauses, gripping your wrist harder this time, pushing it back onto your mouth.

“Keep sucking Rae.” He demands, forcing the popsicle to the back of your throat, making you gag. His fingers circle your wet little entrance, one slipping just inside. Your tight, so fucking tight that he knows when he does eventually get inside you it’s going to be a struggle not to blow his load almost immediately. His works his finger deeper, all the way down to the knuckle, your whimpers are stifled by the ice pop as he starts to fuck you, nice and slow, opening you up. “You can go deeper. We both know how much you love choking on my cock as you come.”

Like the good girl you are, you do exactly as he says. He slips another finger inside you, rewarding you and your breath hitches, a needy whimper echoing through the garden as he crooks his fingers, finding that sweet spot.

“Don’t stop now Rae.” He taunts, his fingers finding that nice steady rhythm as his thumb starts to rub up and down your clit, exerting just the right amount of pressure to bring you to the edge. “You’ve almost won your prize.”

Your body starts to arch, your hips chasing his movements, he can feel you clenching around his fingers like a wanton, desperate thing so he goes faster, harder until you’re right there at the precipice. “That’s it good girl, come for me, show me how much you’ve missed having me inside you.”

The words tip you over the edge, your cries muffled by the popsicle as you come around his fingers so hard, honey floods down his hand. You pull the ice pop from your lips, and he crushes his mouth against yours, drinking down your pleasure, licking the stickiness from the confines of your mouth.

“I’ve missed this side of you.” You murmur in between filthy, messy kisses, your hand carding through his hair. “I thought you might treat me like glass…”

“You aren’t fragile Rae.” He reminds you, his fingers still moving inside you, the ecstasy building all over again. It’s stronger this time, the waves crashing through your body, the relentless current dragging you under. “You’re tempered steel. You cut me a thousand times over when we hated each other and I still came crawling back for more. That’s how crazy you made me, how crazy you still make me every damn day.”

Those words they absolutely ruin you. They have you grasping at the couch cushions, your head tipping back into them as you holler out his name. His free hand grabs your wrist again, driving that popsicle right back into your mouth.

“Oh Rae.” He chides, in that commanding tone of his. “I didn’t say you could stop sucking.”

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SET AFTER:

Sassy - Dana's world is turned upside down when a face from her past appears at PTMC.

Choir Girl/Wild Girl - Dana's world is turned upside down when a face from her past appears at PTMC.

You don’t expect the ghost writer.

Who would after 40 years?

She sits across from you in the break room as you stare at her, your hand grasping your travel mug of coffee so tightly that your knuckles turn white. You have no idea how Giselle found you. You suspect it’s because she was a journalist in a former life, they’re used to hunting down sources.

“So…” You begin trying to pull your jumbled thoughts together. “Your publisher wants you to write a book about the band, and you want to interview me to get all the ‘gory details’ as you put it. What if I don’t want to do that?”

“Rage Bitch! was a movement.” Giselle tells you with an enthusiasm that comes with youth. She’s in her early thirties, in the midst of a flourishing career which makes her a lioness in your eyes, hungry for knowledge, not afraid to kill for it. “It was punk rock, feminist and it inspired hundreds of young women to challenge the patriarchy, to question the roles that they were being forced into.”

She doesn’t know that her words are like a brand, stabbing into your chest, searing holes into the flesh underneath. These are all the things you and Dana talked about back then, all the things she betrayed when she returned to Pittsburgh. It’s not as simple as that, you know. There were other factors at work, pushing and pulling in different directions. But your heart, its a mess right now, it has been ever since you laid eyes on her again for the first time in almost four decades.

“While we want a more rounded POV, if you don’t consent to the interviews we’ll have to go with everything that your drummer Jaz has told us." Giselle pauses, crossing one leg over the other. “She has quite a few stories to tell about you and Sassy.”

Your foot taps, your knee jingling. Jaz has never gotten over the downfall of Rage Bitch!. The band was in it’s prime in 86, doing sold out tours around the country, being courted by even bigger record labels. She’s had relative success since but nowhere near anything at that level.

“You know that Jaz spent the entire eighties coked up right?” You remind Giselle, meeting her gaze with a steely one of your own. “That kind of long term damage, it has a tendency to distort memory.”

“So, you’re saying the two of you weren’t...” You shake your head to cut off her words, but she talks right over the gesture. “Because I have additional sources that say otherwise. They say that you were a couple, that you lived together for almost a year, that you used to fuck in the dressing room after gigs…”

She trails off when you give her that look, the one that slices through flesh like a scalpel. It’s on a bunch of album covers, that deep feminine rage that gave the band its name.

“Look.” She sighs, her elbows coming to rest on the table as she tilts towards you. You’re meant to mirror her actions, to lean in as if you’re just two girls gossiping over a glass of wine. You stay fixed in place, travel mug clasped in your hand and the worst case of resting bitch face she’ll have seen in her fucking life. “Everyone wants to know what happened to Rage Bitch! You were going somewhere and then suddenly the whole thing crumbled. Jaz says it’s because Sassy broke your heart, that you couldn’t play guitar after that. That that’s why you retrained as a nurse.”

“Or it could just be because I wanted a steady pay check, or that our pyrotechnics guy blew himself up so badly one night that it killed me that I didn’t know how to help him.” You retort taking a sip from your travel mug. The coffee’s lukewarm now, it makes you pull a face as you swallow it down.

“Is that true?” Her eyes brighten, and you realise you’ve just given her another piece of the puzzle, another nugget of information she’s stowing away for later.

“I guess we’ll never know.” You shrug as you check the watch on your wrist. It’s a cheap, worn out thing, something you’ve had since New York but the sentimentality behind it, it’s priceless. “My break’s over.”

Giselle rises to her feet, slinging her chocolate brown Marc Jacobs satchel over her shoulder. “Do you know where Sassy is now? She’s the one that’s been the hardest to track down.”

“No.” You lie thinking of Dana downstairs and the life she’s made for herself with a husband, three girls and a church choir. “I haven’t got a clue.”

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SET AFTER:

The Neurologist - Robby doesn't think much of Jack's friend The Neurologist...

Cuffs - Robby makes a discovery when a pair of handcuffs malfunctions at a crucial time.

Bed Rotting - Robby starts to blow up his life after you return to Seattle.

Divorce Papers - Jack gives a couple of home truths to Robby after he finds out he signed your divorce papers.

A Fucking Nightmare - Robby’s worst nightmare comes true when his ex-wife shows up as a guest at Dana’s vow renewal ceremony.

Regrets - Robby can't help but think about his regrets after seeing his ex-wife for the first time since he signed the divorce papers.

Unread - Robby turns to Jack when you don't respond to his message

The Call - Robby takes the plunge and decides to call you, leading to a surprising revelation.

Emergency contact

Robby’s just finished his shift when he gets the call. He’s just stepping over the threshold into chairs, fighting his way towards the exit when his phone starts to vibrate in the right-hand pocket of his fleece.

A smile crosses his features because he knows it’s you without a shadow of a doubt. The two of you have been texting and videoing back and forth since your phone call a couple of weeks ago. Things are good, really good and for the first time in a long while Robby feels like the universe is finally tilting in his favour.

He answers the call without looking at the screen, placing his shades over his eyes to combat the late evening sun as he strides down the steps towards the parking lot. “I was just thinking about you.”

There’s silence. It weighs heavy on the line before a soft-spoken male voice fractures it. “Is this Michael Robinavitch?”

“Yeah.” He groans, his thumb hovering over the disconnect button. “Look if you’re selling something-”

“This is Dr Derek Shepherd, I’m calling because your Vivian’s emergency contact.” Robby’s heart stills, the blood in his veins freezing as it stops pumping in his chest. “There was an incident today-”

“What do you mean there was incident? Is Vivian ok? Is she…” He can’t force the words the words to leave his throat, instead he chokes on the letters as they slice into his oesophagus like glass.

“She’s fine.” Shepherd reassures him in a tone he clearly uses for dealing with spiralling patients. “Well as fine as she can be with a concussion and linear skull fracture. We’re keeping her in overnight for observation but she’s alright, a little grumpy that she won’t be able to start that road trip tomorrow.”

Yeah, that tracks. You’re supposed to be leaving Seattle at 9am sharp to start your journey to Pittsburgh so that you can be on time for your first shift next week. You’d planned on visiting a few sights on the way, things that you just hadn’t found the time for with such an intense work schedule over the past few years.

“How did it happen?” Robby pinches the space between his brows as the pressure builds behind his eyes.

You’re ok, he tells himself. You’re in the hands of a literal neurosurgeon.

“She had to give one of our TBI patients from the study some bad news.” Robby can taste the other man’s guilt over the phone line as he continues. “They reacted poorly.”

“By smashing her head into a wall?” Robby snaps and he can tell by Shepherd’s pause that’s exactly what happened. “What other injuries does she have?”

“Just the head… and a bruised throat-”

“So, he grabbed her by the throat and slammed her into a wall.” Robby snarls as Shepherd tries to talk over him.

“-you must know that some patients with TBI’s can be unpredictable, I know Vivian certainly does.”

Rage surges to the surface, simmering like magma underneath his skin. The thought of someone hurting you makes him want to ram Shepherd’s head into a wall. He wants to ask where the other man was, why there wasn’t someone else with you if they all understood the danger around some of their patients.

“Keep her comfortable.” Robby is barely able to keep the contempt out of his voice as he spits the words into the receiver. “I’m catching the next flight out there.”

“I don’t think that’s necessary-”

“I literally don’t give a fuck what you think, my wife-”

“Ex-wife.” Shepherd corrects in that infuriatingly calm demeanour of his.  It makes Robby wants to reach down the phoneline and fucking strangle the man.

“Vivian…” He asserts. “…has been hurt. I’m coming to Seattle tonight and I expect to be admitted to her room when I get there.”

“She really is under the best care-” Shepherd’s words are clipped but Robby doesn’t give a shit about inconveniencing the other man. He’s done with this shit, he wants to hang up this call so he can book the first flight out there and the longer Shepherd’s on the line, the less chance he has of making the earliest one.

“Tell me you’ll inform the ward staff.” Robby cuts him off.

“I will…” Shepherd dawdles but Robby’s already hanging up the phone, bringing up flights. He doesn’t even look at the cost, he just books the first one before taking his keys out of his pocket and sprinting to the parking lot where his bike is situated.

He has just enough time to get home and throw a few things into a bag before he catches a cab to the airport. He grabs his helmet, shoving it onto his head before he plunged the key into the ignition, the bike roaring to life between his thighs.

He fucked up the first time by not being there for you, he won’t let that happen again.

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Companion piece to:

A Red Velvet Original - After doing a guest spot on Javadi’s podcast, Jack discovers there may be a niche for a voice like his.

NotTheDoctor - Jack's receives a surprise gift after his first foray into audio erotica goes viral.

The Stakeout - Determined to discover who Red Velvet is, Jack stakes out a notebook full of Quinn episodes left at the nurse's station.

The Quinn Archives:

Principessa – A forbidden romance between a mafia heiress and her bodyguard is threatened when her father insists it’s time for her to marry. [M4F] [Mafia Romance] [Starcrossed Lovers] [Older Man] [Age Gap] [MDom] [Fingering] [We Might Get Caught] [Possessive]

The Pussy Cat Club is the only one of its kind in Pittsburgh.

At least that’s what Jesse tells Jack.

It has a membership list that is over a year long and is situated in the creepiest back alley imaginable behind an unmarked metal door that requires a daily password to receive entry.

“Well, this place is really giving off serial killer vibes.” Jack grumbles as the metal slot slides back and a pair of eyes appears, flickering between the two of them. “I never thought to ask if chopping people up was the reason you got into medicine.”

“Ha fucking ha.” Jesse rolls his baby blues toward the sky before whispering ‘watermelon sugar’ out of the corner of his mouth. A deadbolt is drawn back and the and the door swings open, allowing them entry to a small cloakroom with floral gothic wallpaper and warm romantic lighting. “You said you wanted to meet Red Velvet, she’s performing tonight here tonight.”

“Performing? What does that even mean?” Jack asks stripping out of his jacket and handing it to the brick shit house of a man standing behind the desk. His wrist is clasped, a harsh stamp driven into the back of his hand.

He frowns, staring down at the neon pink etching of a kitty.

“Jesus, you’re so impatient.” Jesse shoots back as he goes through the same process. He thanks the bouncer before squeezing past Jack and grasping the edge of a forest green velvet curtain muffling the sound of music coming from a set of stairs that leads even further down into the depths of the building. “Let yourself be mystified every once in a while.”

They descend the stairs, Jack leaning heavily on the brass banister to offset the balance with his prosthesis. “What part of my personality makes that seem like something I’m comfortable with-”

Jesse pulls back a second velvet curtain and suddenly Jack feels very much like Alice stepping into Wonderland. The room in front of him is literally a secret garden, a private botanical haven for those craving a truly authentic experience. The walls are exposed brick, the flooring a rich herringbone oak that brightens up what should be a dark, and dingy basement, into something lighter and more refined.

The thing he can’t get over are the actual living trees. There’s three of them situated at different points throughout the bar. Their trunks are lined with age, their branches sprawling upwards across a ceiling shielded by the intermingled canopy of leaves. Rattan globes hang intermittently like small glowing suns, bathing the immediate area around them with an ambience you can’t help be drawn into.

Along the left wall resides the bar, hand crafted from reclaimed wood and decorated with Heartleaf Philodendron, something he recognises from a garden party he was at six months ago. It drapes underneath the bar, it’s leaves barely skimming across the floor. Behind the bar, situated between the two shelfs lined with spirits, is a drop with the same floral gothic wallpaper as the cloakroom. In the centre resides a pink neon cat, it’s tail twitching back and forth in time with Rihanna’s Red Lipstick.

Although the bar is packed that’s not where the main attraction is. The focus of the patrons attention is on the stage near the back of the room, on the woman dressed in a sage green corset that accentuates a voluptuous form he can’t take his eyes off. The gold inlay glitters under the stage lights as she grasps a looped arial silk that hangs from the ceiling with one hand. She uses it to swing cross the length of the stage, unfastening the snaps of the corset and tossing it into the crowd as she hits the highest pinnacle of the swing. A loud cheer goes up as his gaze is drawn the gold silk bra that was hiding underneath, to the way those delicate curves threaten to spill from it.  

She blows a kiss, her gold stiletto heels skimming the floor. She wraps the silk around her wrist once more, pushing off and using the momentum to spin, the sage tulle skirt that’s hemmed with gold roses slips down her thighs, kicked off with a flourish onto the stage. He runs his palm over his mouth as his eyes dip to those matching gold panties, hemmed with forest green lace that draws attention to the intimate space between her thighs.

“She’s good, isn’t she?” Jesse leans in close so that he can be heard over the music. “She’s always had a thing for aerial burlesque, ever since we were in nursing school together.”

Jack tries to focus in on the face, but he can barely make it out from his position at the back of the bar. It’s hidden amongst the teased hair that blazes like a fireball behind her as she grabs both sides of the aerial silk, and then artfully propels herself into an upside down split. She wraps her left leg around the silk, hiking herself up into a graceful sitting position before blowing a stream of glitter into the crowd.

“She’s almost done with the act.” Jesse says, his hand clasping Jack’s shoulder, leading him almost unwillingly away from the spectacle. “We should wait for her in the back before everyone mobs the bar afterwards.”

Jesse leads him to a door tucked away behind one of the trees, the two of them slipping into a corridor that would look at home in an industrial space. Jesse unlocks the first door they come to.

It opens up into a small dressing room that closely resembles the vibe on the opposite side of the wall. The dressing table is made of the same reclaimed wood as the bar, the mirror draped with living ivy. Makeup and other cosmetics litter the surface, neatly arranged by size and requirement.

An intricate mangowood folding screen divides the back of the room from the rest. A rack of glittering costumes is situated alongside it, within easy reach of the person getting changed.

 Jesse gestures for him to take a seat on the antique chaise longue as he strides towards the three-tier brass cocktail trolley. A small glass vase of blush pink peonies sits on it alongside a crystal decanter of whisky and two matching glasses. Jack frowns as he studies the flowers, his brain flitting back over the last time he saw peonies like that.

“The two of you own this place, don’t you?” He finds himself saying as Jesse hands him the glass of bourbon. “I can see the traces of you both here, her garden, your attention to detail.”

“Ah so you’ve worked it out.” Jesse says, swirling his bourbon around the tumbler. “This place came up for sale when we started making real bank from our Quinn work. We’d both been performing here for years as a way to blow off steam from the hospital and we couldn’t let it go to some realtor that wanted to turn it into condos, so we bought the building and renovated it. There’s a bookshop upstairs and affordable housing with the apartments above. The club manager actually lives there, she takes care of things while we’re working at the hospital.”

“And no one else knows?” Jack questions as Jesse leans back against the dressing table.

Jesse tilts his head from side to side indecisively. “Robby does, but only through his ex-wife Viv. She was a guest once of someone with a membership when Vel was performing. It was back when they were in their good period.”

“Christ, I hope they sort their shit out.” Jack murmurs taking a sip from his drink. “So, you and… Red Velvet, you’re together?”

Jesse shakes his head, a crease appearing between his eyebrows as he tries to find a way to explain the nature of your relationship. “You know how sometimes you meet someone and you just click? Your soulmates but not in the romantic sense of the word. It’s entirely platonic. Like you and Robby… you get them on a level no one else can, and they get you too. That’s how it is for me and Vel. We met in nursing school, and we just knew we were each other’s person.”

“I wouldn’t call me and Robby soulmates.” Jack grumbles into his glass. Jesse arches an eyebrow and sighs, reconsidering his position. “Fine, we’re platonic soulmates-”

The door opens silencing him. His head jerks up, tilting towards the person draped in a black silk robe, patterned with pink flowers as she closes the door behind her.

He stares at you. The woman who writes the filthy scripts he voices, who has played an intimate part in his own fantasies both as an unknown creator and as his Charge Nurse.

“Hi Jack.” You say as you start to take the bobby pins out of your wig. “I bet this is a bit of a surprise.”

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Rockstar - Brendon Park meets his match against PTMC’s fiery new attending.

Pussy Wagon - A spilled drink leads you to see a different side of your nemesis Park The Shark.

The First Time (NSFW) - Fireworks aren’t the only explosive thing happening at Jesse’s Fourth of July party.

A Loaded Gun (NSFW) - Hate sex has never been so fucking hot…

This Is Not A Love Story - Brandon tries to set a rule after a ‘sticky’ situation.

The Game - Brendon finds himself breaking his own rules when it comes to you.

Tell. Me. To. Stop (NSFW) - Jealousy is not an emotion Brendon Park is accustomed to.

Pittfest -Brendon comforts you when you fall apart after the events of Pittfest.

Is He Prettier Than Me? - Brandon gets curious when he learns you have other plans.

Confetti (NSFW) - Brendon Park doesn't do night clubs...

The Drawer - Brendon realises your relationship may be shifting when he discovers he has a drawer at your place.

Scrunchies - Scrunchies… they’re the downfall of Brendon Park.

Love Games (NSFW) - Brendon and you love to play games, especially with each other.

An Exquisite Form of Torture (NSFW) - Brendon continues to turn up the heat as he holds you captive.

Authentic - You and Jesse discuss your situationship with Brendon after you see him with another woman.

THAT Guy - Brendon is forced to face up to his feelings for you when he finds out your meeting up with an ex.

Seven Days - Seven days is far too long to go without you…

Save It - A thirty six hour shift leads to another admission about your relationship with Brendon.

Doctor Dick - Brendon’s day takes a turn when Whitaker gives him some critical information.

A Manipulative Fuck - You and Brendon discuss what happened with your ex.

The Call (NSFW) - Brendon decides to put a stop to David’s calls once and for all.

The One That Hates The Ravens - David’s attempt at revenge backfires spectacularly.

The Lovin Spoonful - You wake up to an unexpected surprise.

Delete, Block, Rinse, Repeat - A series of cryptic messages force Brendon to confront a secret he’s been keeping for almost a decade.

His Father’s Son - Brendon reflects on the past as he debates taking that first sip of whiskey.

The Cost of Dignity - Brendon’s greatest secret comes with a cost.

A Kiss For Luck - Brendon struggles to navigate working at the hospital after the release of THAT video.

The Craziest Fucking Thing - You take matters into your own hands after receiving bad news from Brendon.

Ride Or Die - You wake up to the sound of an angry blender after Brendon discovers what happened with Rowena.

Baby Shark - Once a year Brendon always ends up back at the aquarium.

Diamonds (NSFW) - A bet leads to naughty shenanigans in a five star restaurant.

The Call Out - Brendon’s focus on wedding planning is disrupted when he’s called out to the scene of a multi-car pile up.

Good Hands - Abbot reminds Brendon you’re in good hands as they proceed with the amputation.

Flayed - Brendon’s world crashes down as he learns the truth about the accident.

Ten Things I Love About You - Brendon discovers a pink envelope in the pocket of the jacket you were wearing at the time of the accident.

The Parent Trap - Brendon faces your parents, leading to a surprise revelation.

Sledgehammer - Brendon struggles to cope in the aftermath of everything that’s happened.

Et Tu Marianne? - Your mother throws Brendon under the bus after you wake up from surgery.

Roses - Brendon is forced to deal with a vindictive POS when a dozen red roses are delivered to your door.

The Fucking Patient - Abbot has some harsh words for Brendon regarding your care.

Chemistry - You and Brendon finally have a moment alone to talk.

A Serial Absconder - Your habit of disappearing leads to a healing journey Brendon doesn’t expect.

The Best the Ravens Have Ever Looked (NSFW) - Brendon has a real problem with your shorts.

Home - Brendon introduces you to your new home after the accident.

The Change Up - When you struggle to reacclimate at home Brendon realises you need a change up.

The Body Pillow - Brendon and you settle in for your first night at the new house.

Rae Days - You're forced to navigate your new limitations when Brendon returns to work full time.

The Liberator - Brandon asks Abbot's for advice with a very particular problem.

Grounded - Brendon gets a surprise when his brother turns up on his doorstep unexpectedly.

You’re in the shower when Brendon gets home from the hospital. He can hear the water running as he strips the jacket from his shoulders and leans over to unfasten the laces on his sneakers. His lower back twinges, the penance he pays for spending an entire eight-hour surgery on his feet. Back in his twenties he could pull that shit off and then spend the night clubbing. Now he’s in his forties, he’s starting to feel the aches and pains of his age, no matter how much exercise he does.

He hisses through his teeth as he straightens, pain shooting right up his vertebrae. The Tylenol he’s taking isn’t touching it, he needs to lie down, to re-align his spine…

He’s an old man with a bad back.

Abbot’s words about Robby flit through his brain as he thinks of The Liberator Jaz currently stashed underneath the bed, hidden because Tommy had been here when it arrived. There are somethings you just don’t share with your fiancée in front of your half-brother, the sex cushion is certainly one of them.

“I suppose it couldn’t hurt to give it a try.” He tells himself, sneaking a glance at the closed bathroom door. You usually do two shampoos and one conditioning cycle, then you have to dry yourself and get back into your wheelchair. That should buy him a little personal time with the sex cushion.

It takes him a second to nudge it out from underneath the bed with his foot. His jaw clenches as he bends down to pick it up, teeth grinding against the pain of the stretch. He sets the cushion down on the mattress, trying to figure out the best position before he turns it upside down, so its flatter edge is at the top, the curved part at the bottom.

He lies down, rolling it along the small of his back to find the right position. He lets out a low groan as he feels several of the bones pop, releasing the pressure in his spine as he flexes his hips back and forth.

“Should I be concerned that I just walked in on you air humping a sex cushion?” Your voice breaks through his momentary relief as he turns his head to look at you. Your damp hair falls across the white t-shirt of his that you’re wearing as you pat it dry with a hand towel.

“This really isn’t what it looks like.” He informs you, his hips arching as more vertebrae pop.

“Yeah, ok.” You toss the towel into the laundry hamper before setting the break on your wheelchair. He watches as you transfer yourself onto the mattress alongside him, your fingertips skating over the edging of the sex aid. “Is it as good as it looks?”

“You want to try?” He asks, lifting himself off The Liberator, inviting you to experiment with it.

His back is already in a much better state than it was when he walked through the door. He can see why Robby and Jesse may have invested in one of these, especially outside of the bedroom.

You shimmy into his previously occupied space, lying back, settling yourself on the cushion. You tilt your hips back and forth, arching with the motion of the cushion and it reminds Brendon of nights back in his condo, him sitting in the chair at the end of the bed as he watched you writhe in his sheets fucking your fingers exactly the way he told you to.

“If we were to…” Your blush is adorable as you fumble for the words as he pointedly ignores the erection pressing urgently against the zipper of his jeans. The poor thing has had bluebells since that hand job you gave him in the hospital. “How would it work?”

“Can I show you?” His voice is husky, twinged with a deep yearning as he awaits your answer.

You nod shyly and he climbs onto his hands and knees, caging you in. His blue eyes are a tempestuous ocean, the tide drawing you under as he crawls along the length of your body like a predator, situating himself between your legs.

His hips meet yours, tipping the cushion back, elevating them so that the length of his throbbing cock is nestled right against that needy pussy. He guides your thighs around his waist, the space below your knee hooking just underneath his ass, drawing him closer. His palm grasps your waist, squeezing lightly through the thin cotton, thumb tracing soothing circles as you stare up at him with eager eyes, hair fanning across the pillows.

“So, we can do it with me above you like this so I can get a good thrust-” Your breath catches as he demonstrates, the motion sending a delicious burst of electricity crackling through your nerve endings. “Or…” He drapes himself over you, his skin like liquid fire through his waffled henley as his mouth lingers in your proximity, so dangerously close. “…we could try something like this which I think is a lot more intimate.”

Your hand cards through his dark strands as his nose trails along yours, his lips a gentle tease as they brush over yours, not quite kissing. “And if I flip it over?”

“I can fuck you doggy style. Pull your hair, spank that sexy ass of yours.” He murmurs the words like an unspoken promise, rocking his pelvis against yours as he supports your limb by holding it in place against his hipbone. “Or we can take it slow and do something a little like this from behind, my hands pinning yours to the bed as I fuck you like the night I proposed.”

“What about oral?” You ponder with purpose and he gives you that wicked grin, the one that speaks of wild nights and deviance. “How would that work with the cushion?”

“Let’s find out, shall we?” His mouth leaves a heated trail down your throat as he drives a knee between your thighs, the rough denim caressing your clit like a filthy kiss.

“Fuck.” You drawl, your head tipping back into the pillow as he grips the fabric of the t-shirt in his fist, yanking it up so that he has access to that pretty dusting between your legs.

“Oh, I’ve missed her.” He mumbles against your inner thigh, the five o’clock shadow that lines his jaw scraping across your tender skin. Your knees settle over his shoulders perfectly, the angle of the cushion presenting you to his demanding tongue. He licks a long strip from slit to clit making you buck up against him unbidden. “I think she’s missed me too from the way you’re leaking all over my tongue.”

This shit, it’s what Harry Styles wrote that stupid song about, the one you’ve been playing in the kitchen everytime you make dinner together. His lips ghost over you, a flutter of butterfly kisses that touch everywhere but the place you desperately want.

“Don’t tease.” You plead, your fingers threading through his hair, grasping at the roots. His scalp lights up, a pulse of need resonating through his entire body as his restraint snaps. He delves in like a man starved, thumb stroking over that naughty pearl as his tongue plunges inside you.

You cry out at the action, thrusting his face even deeper into your cunt and he moans, the low hum vibrating right through your pussy.

“Do that again.” You command.

He repeats the motion as you clench around his tongue, the tune to Watermelon Sugar emitting from low in his throat as you hit the crescendo of the chorus. The rapture tears the breath right out of you, your cum soaking his face as he revels in your first orgasm since the accident. His tongue is forced out of you by the spasm but like the good boy he is, he cleans up the mess he’s made, licking up every drop of that sweetness as you fall back against the pillows, your arm thrown up over your face.

“Was that fucking Harry Styles?” You accuse, trying to stifle your laugh as his mouth nips at your inner thigh playfully.

“That is between me and this gorgeous pussy.” He informs you, using his fingers to slap your clit, eliciting another moan.

“You’re fucking terrible.” You grasp his pillow from his side of the bed and hit him with it. He catches it before you can do it again, wrenching it from your grasp, catching a glimpse of your infectious grin.

He was worried that this might be a little too much, that you may feel overwhelmed but that is clearly not the case if you’re assaulting him. He hurls the pillow onto back towards its rightful place before gently guiding your legs back onto the bed. He eases The Liberator out from underneath you, tossing it off the mattress to strip and wash in the morning.

“So how do we rate our new toy?” He asks you, planting sultry kisses up along your waist. “I think it’s a solid eight when it comes to oral.”

“We’ll need further testing before we can grade properly it but for now….” You reach for your phone on the nightstand.

“What are you…” He catches a glimpse of your screen as he collapses into the space next to you. “Is that a spreadsheet?”

You slap the phone down on your chest, your cheeks flushing as he starts to laugh. “I’m not pissed, I just… I have one too.”

“You do not!”

“I promise you I do.” He informs you, realising his phone still resides in the pocket of the jacket hanging up in the hall. “I started it last night when you and Tommy where binging Widow’s Bay.”

“I want to see.” You demand and he props his head up on palm.

“You aren’t even going to let me bathe in after glow.” He pouts mournfully, pulling a sad face. “Must I be a slave to your whims?”

The pillow is back in your hands, and he fends off the attack by capturing your wrists and dragging you on top of him instead.

“Five minutes.” He lays out his terms, nudging your nose with his. “Five minutes of cuddle time, and then you can see my spreadsheet.”

“Fine.” You agree, settling against him, your stump draping over his thigh as he wraps his arms around you, cradling you lose. “You get five minutes, and I hope to God there’s colour coded tabs.”

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SET AFTER:

Sassy - Dana's world is turned upside down when a face from her past appears at PTMC.

It’s late in the evening when Dana decides it’s time to open the box.

Benji is out of the house at one of his poker games so it’s the perfect time to take a trip down memory lane.

She grabs the small step stool from inside of the hall closet and carries it all the way up the stairs to their bedroom, to the top shelf where she stores her most precious of memories. She sets the stool down, climbing up onto it, her hands sifting through the collection of random items her husband stores up here until finds it.

It’s a small, cheap lacquered box is got when she was in New York. The surface is covered in stickers from gigs she attended during the years she was out there. Her fingers trace over them as she sits down on the bed, the mattress depressing under her weight. She sets the box down in front of her, thumb flicking the clasp open, revealing her secrets with a plume of decades old incense and the slight undercurrent of weed.

“Talk about a blast from the past.” She mutters, removing her old grinder so she can sort through the items below.

The first is a neon pink leaflet folded in half. The paper is lined with creases, wrinkled time and age. She opens it carefully revealing the words ‘Rage Bitch!’ along the top. Underneath there’s a grainy picture saturated in black ink of the four members with the venue, date, and time of the gig underneath.

The Pink Door, 12th June 1984, 9pm.

She’d like to think that was the night her entire life changed but it started three months before that when her mother had caught her kissing her best friend Helen underneath the bleachers after a football game.

The car ride home had been her quoting Romans 1:26, subsequently followed by grounding Dana for the rest of her life and a promise to discuss this whole thing with Helen’s mother, as if being ripped apart from the girl she was starting to fall in love with wasn’t painful or humiliating enough.

Dana had tuned her out, staring at the lights going by as she toyed with the gold crucifix at her throat, reliving the best kiss of her high school life.

Boys… they’d never done it for her, not really. Their mouths were wet, clammy. Their fumbling clumsy and awkward. Being with Helen it set her nerve endings ablaze, made her catch fire in a way she had never experienced before.

Which is why she started to sneak out of the house, why she lied to her mother’s face about study groups that didn’t exist. She was an addict, craving the passion that only came with other women, no matter how many times her mother tried to set her up with those nice boys from church.

The night she’s found in Helen’s bed, it’s where everything comes to a head.

There’s talk of those special camps for girls like her, the ones that need ‘sexual purity counselling.’ She finds the leaflet tucked under the mail on the kitchen table, alongside a notepad with the details of what she’ll need to pack when she attends in the summer. There’s been rumours about what happens at those camps, exorcisms, electro shock therapy. She can’t believe her mother has decided to put her through that, that she hates that part of her so much that she wants to destroy the rest of who she is.

She leaves that night, sneaks out of her window and down the trellis with the savings she’s made from babysitting and working the ice cream shop. She buys a ticket for the Amtrak and ends up sitting with a girl named Mimi, one with a nose piercing and tattoos who seems to know a kindred spirit when she sees one. She takes her under her wing, gives her a place to stay and introduces to her life she never imagined possible in the East Village, filled with drag shows, fetish clubs and queer cafes.

And then one night, she meets you.

A guitarist for a band called Rage Bitch!

“We need a new singer.” You’d said morosely, beckoning to the bartender for a round of shots after you’ve finished your set. At this point Dana’s been around hundreds of other queer woman but no one as striking as you. “Shirley’s going back to Boston for college in the fall, just as things are starting to take off too.”

“Dana sings.” Mimi says, tipping her head towards her as she perches on a stool, trying to make space for the bartender with the tray of tequila she’s setting down on the table. “I hear her every morning rocking out to the radio.”

“The church mouse?” You snort as you swirl a shot glass of around and around, the liquid sloshing. Everybody knows about Mimi’s stray, how she took in some good church girl she met on a train, introduced her to the East Village punk and lesbian scene. “Get real, I’m not looking for a choir girl.”

“Don’t be a jagoff.” Dana retorts, pulling out the scrunchie she tied her up her hair with for her shift at the 24-hour diner down the street. The jagged cut cascades across her features as she reaches across the table, into Mimi’s open purse, stealing the Demon Mulberry lipstick. Her lips form a pout as she applies it, using Mimi’s compact to make her mouth into a dangerous slash. “You don’t know what’s coming sugar, so hold on to those fishnets.”

She shucks off her jeans right there at the table, leaving her clad in a white cut off that lands mid thigh and Doc Martens she picked up at a thrift store last week. She sashays through the crowd, whispering in the DJ’s ear to change up her set and put on Cherry Bomb by The Runaways. When she climbs up on that stage, she looks like Debbie Harry doing a cover version of the song, only it’s Dana telling her own life story.

She sings her fucking heart out, pouring all of the bullshit that came before New York into the lyrics. Her voice is raw, like a bleeding wound, the words torn from her throat as her gaze fixes on you, a piercing stare daring you to call her ‘choir girl’ again.

You throw that shot down your throat, the burn igniting in your chest as you take in the raw sexuality of the woman singing to you.

You’re already at the edge of the stage by the time the song comes to an end. Your hands grasp her waist, lifting her down before she falls off it. Your body presses against hers, nipples grazing yours through the thin fabric of your black Atomic t-shirt. You bite back a moan she wants to swallow and right there and then she knows her life will never be the same again.

“Alright wild girl you say you’ve got the gig-”

The front door opens, signalling Benji’s return. He calls out her name as he toes off his boots alongside the front door. She shoves the leaflet and the grinder back into the box, thrusting it underneath the bed to retrieve later. She meets him as he’s halfway up the stairs, the scent of another man’s cologne still clinging to his skin as he kisses her cheek.

“I’m just going to get a shower and then we can settle down and watch that show you like.” He tells her, brushing past her to get to the bathroom.

“Yeah sure, I got dishes to do. Let me fill up the sink before you turn on the water.” She calls after him as she descends the stairs. She walking into the kitchen and picking up her phone from the table. She opens up the case for her earbuds, slotting them into her ears before she turns on the facet, waiting for it to fill up the sink. She scrolls through Spotify before she finds the track she wants.

A cover of Cherry Bomb by Rage Bitch!

She presses the edge of her left earbud, triggering noise cancelling mode before she hits play. The music hits, and her body comes alive with the thrum of it vibrating through her bones as she closes her eyes.

This is the life she could have had if she’d stayed in New York all those years ago. This is the life she should have had.

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