ultraviolenccs

Jack Abbot × Oc! Reader

summary: Quinn Robinavitch has a troubling past. She can't even make sense of of it herself. Being a 26 year old med student working with her dad, makes it just as hard. And then she meets Dr. Abbot. the handsome, edgy, attending physician, and her whole world unravels beneath her. Juggling trying to figure out her traumatic past, and what happened with her mom, to being a top notch med student, it just so happens he's her biggest problem. But he also might be the only thing keeping her sane.

content warnings: Swearing, age gap, 50s/20s, fluff, angst, talk of schizophrenia, trauma, anxiety, blood, m*rder, abuse

authors note: Okurrr so this is the 4th chapter and I lowkey have nothing to say just tysm for reading anddd yea! Im putting the songs I recommend listening to while reading. Love ya!

Harsh Realm- Widowspeak

Thousand- Rosie Carney (ft. Lisa Hannigan)

Love is in the air- Rock Burwell

Frou-frou foxes in the Midsummers Fire- Cocteau Twins

There’s this girl- sign crushed motorist

All I Need- Radiohead

Like Real People Do- Hozier

word count: 3.1k

chapter 4

2013, California.

My neighborhood is the saddest part of California. The lawn is dead, even in the summer time. I tread through the broken concrete, the sun beating down on it, throwing it back into my face. The jacket of my uniform is thrown across the back of my backpack, killing my shoulders. The only bit of relief I endure is the shade from the green leafs up above. My feet are killing me. Note to self: Pack extra shoes incase nobody shows up to get you from school. Knobby knees also don’t do too well for walking with a backpack that weighs a ton. 5 books, with at least 500 pages each.

I walk up the steps to my house, mom’s car is still in the drive way. I sigh, and punch the code in the front door…all while sliding my backpack down my shoulders. The door creaks open, and I look around for her. Immediately i’m met with the sound of blaring music…Harsh Realm, by Widows Peak. That songs in the playlist of my iPod like 30 times. She quickly turns around at the sound of door opening, I assume. She looks at her wrist, checking her watch in disbelief. “You’re home.” She tilts her head, grinning at me. I toss my back pack down next to the sofa, and step full into the house. I stand there, my fists balled up, I avoid eye contact. She never quite was a subtle woman. “You forgot me.” I swallow, dryly, in attempts to get her to care.

She snorts, “Sorry…how was the walk?” She pulls out a kitchen chair and sits down. I take a deep breath and finally make eye contact with he, only then to break it rolling my eyes. I don’t think it was out of annoyance. I mean, yeah, i’m annoyed…but I just didn’t want her to see me cry about something that seems so little. I take a sharp right, turning down the hallway that lead to my bedroom. The lump in my throat swelled, and my face grew hot. The tears start to fall as soon as I enter the room, and close the door. My room is nothing short of classic. The faded pink walls created from the cheapest paint at the hardware store…The Christmas lights hung across my closet that I stole from the basement one day…Music posters hung crooked.

I take down my hair from the loose braid, and set my body free from the dreadful uniform it stood in. I rake my hands through my hair, the waves from the braid hitting my shoulders, and the smell of my shampoo hitting my nose. My iPod sits on my dresser and its cheesy, but I literally smile when I see it. It’s my baby. The only thing that helps me through whatever the hell i’m going through right now. I pad over to the holy grail and take it off the charger, grabbing my headphones and slipping them in.

Thousand (feat. Lisa Hannigan) - Now Playing

I reach down to my floor and grab my sketch book. Awful drawings that I thought at one point were good, then I look back at them…and I think

‘what the fuck.’ I throw myself into the sheets of my bed, laying flat on my tummy, propping myself up with my elbows.

1 hour later.

I get startled by the sound glass breaking. Breaking hard enough to where it interrupted the sweet sound of music humming throughout my ears at full volume. I pull the buds out of ears and my heart beat quickens. “What the fuuuu…”

The F bomb trails off into the faint sound of instrumentals still playing from the headphones on my bed. My body shifts forward, leaving me on my knees. I zone out deciding what I should do. I don’t want to go out there. I don’t want to know what’s going on. My body betrays me and I swing my legs over the side of the bed, getting ready to go out there or something, I don’t know, my brain has already departed. The weight of body on my feet is a reminder of the terrible, hot walk home. I breathe in, flexing my hands, my fingers drawing outwards.

I grab the doorknob with shaky hands, this is getting exhausting…I already deal with hell at school, and then I come home and what do you know? It’s still not over. I open my door and begin to walk out, the old wood floors creaking underneath me. “Mom…?” I sort of yelp out. Yelping out for mommy. Mommy please answer me. Please save me. I’m scared. Mommy doesn’t answer.

I round the corner of the dark hallway. My head whips at the sudden sharp sound of her yelling with detonating fear. A blade in right hand…made of…glass? My body freezes and she lunges at me. I hit the floor, her body wrestling mine. My hands are getting weaker and weaker. Partly from being nervous to come out of my room before. I didn’t know I was this weak. How couldn’t I overpower my mother? She was 5’5 and frail. She hardly ate anymore.

“Get the fuck off me!” I shout, managing to knock the sharp blade from her grasp. It cuts her hands in the process, red dripping onto my face as we fight. Her hands maneuver, sliding up against my throat, closing my airway. The pressure builds to my head and I gasp, choking on the air that I can get in. “Mom…stop.” My hands reach up into the air, scratching her face, trying to get her to stop. It’s like a baby reaching in the air for their mother to pick them up, and hold them, and love them. I’m her baby. Mom, please hold me. And love me.

I turn my head to the sight of the glass, next to my body. I fight to grab it, I want it, I need it. It’s my only hope, this shard of glass from the vase on the kitchen table. My fingers wiggle closer…and closer…and…bingo. Without thinking, I angle the blade perfectly. Before shoving it into the side of her neck. Her hands go limp, she lets go, I breathe, she can’t anymore. Her thighs weigh down my hips, I couldn’t move anyway. Even if she wasn’t crushing me under her weight. She looks at me, like she sees me, I am her baby. The blood trickles down her neck, and onto my face. Velvety liquid runs down the sides of nose, down the side of my cheek. Then, she falls beside me. And I know it’s over. All of the waiting, all of the time I spent, all the refuge. It’s all gone. My breath settles, and I turn my head to look at her. Tears drip from the corners of her eyes, and I know hers is settled too. I feel my face contort, my nose scrunching as that lump in my throat creeps back up. I let out a whimper and try to pick my body up off the floor. “Mom.” Tears fall from my cheeks, into the crease of my mouth, and down my chin. I rest a hand on her shoulder shaking lightly, my body propped up on one of the elbows. “Mom!” I let out fervent sob, my heart breaking. I continue to shake her, in disbelief that I could’ve done what I did. Then, I give up, letting my body rest next to hers again.

I curl up next to her and cry. I cry for my mama, and for the fact that I killed her.

Present Day

I ran out of the diner about 10 minutes ago. I’ve just been sitting in Jacks truck, him in the drivers seat…watching me break down. “About 2 years earlier, my mom was diagnosed with Paranoid Schizophrenia.” I told him everything. I didn’t leave out a singular detail. I didn’t even think I was capable of sharing that out loud ever again. Jacks head lays back against the headrest, one hand on the steering wheel. “That still doesn’t explain what happened in the bathroom, baby girl.” He mutters. I turn to face him in my seat, in disbelief. “Jack, what the fuck do you mean— why are you worried about me? I just told you I killed my own mother.”

“You were protecting yourself.”

“She was my mom.”

“So, you’re tellin’ me that if you hadn’t done what you did…you’d still be alive.”

I stare at him, because in my heart I know he’s right. I turn my body back into my seat properly, that fucking lump in my throat. My face gets hot and my eyes well with tears. Don’t cry…Do not cry. “Can you drive, please?” My voice comes out wobbly and unstable. I’m such a cry baby. I can’t even take the truth.

“Quinn, baby, don’t cry…you’re wearing yourself out.” He reaches a hand out and sneaks it behind my head, leaned up against the window. He makes slow circles with his fingers and my breathing slows, and the tears begin to dry.

“It’s not your fault. You got that? They never should’ve given her custody. Fuckin’ failed you.”

My eyes lock onto a tree outside the window.

“Quinn.”

I look at him, the bags under my eyes weighing a ton. “Hm..” I hum, unable to speak right now.

“It’s not your fault.”

“It’s not my fault that she went batshit crazy,”

I pause, turning my head back out the window.

My legs scrunch up into my chest, and I allow my elbows to rest on my knees.

“But it’s my fault she’s dead.” End of conversation. I don’t wanna hear anymore. I don’t even know why I told him anything, I knew what I was gonna hear. It’s always the same,

“You were just a kid.”

“You didn’t know any better.”

“She did it to herself.”

Jack takes his hand back to himself, dropping his head. Probably annoyed at that fact that I can’t get an idea through my thick skull. “Listen, Kiddo-“

“Jack, just please, take me home.” I cut him off, instantly feeling guilty. I really just want to go home. I woke up about 3 hours ago and this is already one of the worst days of my life…I haven’t even made it to the hospital hours yet. Jack puts the car and drive, the speed jolts me out of my day dream.

Walking into this hospital is nothing short of dreadful. I guess I chose to be here, though. I bump into person after person, it’s like nobody knows where to go. “Watch where the hell you’re going.” One guys says, his broad chest almost shooting me across chairs. My knees wobble in attempts to walk, i’ve never really been so scared to walk into work…not even my first day. My heart beat runs through my arms, I can literally feel it. I scan my badge and walk through the gateway to hell. “Hey, Quinn!”

Lupe sweetly says with a soft undertone.

“Hi, Lupe.” I smile at her, tossing a hand up, waving.

“Heyyy~ you seein’ somebody?”

“No- Lupe, I will not date your son.” I laugh, pushing open the big door, emerging myself.

My ears immediately ring with the sound of machines beeping and…doctors shouting for help for each other. I put my bag in my locker, and throw my hair up into a messy bun…as always. I walk out into the chaos, looping my stethoscope around my neck. I pass my dad in the process, “Hey honey.” He slows his pace to walk with me. “Hi…you heading out?” We stop by the nurses station and lean on the counter top.He looks at me, a warm smile. One I need. “Yep. I just- woah, what happened to your head?”

The gash would sits on my temple, red leaking from under my makeup. “Oh- I just…fell in the shower.” I swallow, breaking eye contact with him pretending not to care. Before I can even blink he grabs my jaw with his fingers making me look at him. “Dad, I-“

“Jesus Christ, kid.” He closely examines the side of my forehead. “It’s not that bad,” It is. “Doesn’t even hurt.” It does. His eyes trail over the rest of my face, my eyes, my nose, and jaw. “You look fucking wrecked, baby, you sleepin okay?”

I swat his hands away from my face. “Yes. I’m fine.” I huff and grab a clipboard, walking off.

He shouts, “Text me every-“

“Every two hours..yes! I got it.”

I spin back around, the pace of my walking quickens. I’ve always been told i’m a very selfish person. There’s enough room in my body for my heart to grow ten times the size…but it only gets smaller. There’s all this space that needs to be taken up, by something, anything. What do you with all this space…my skin crawls. I need to stop thinking. Just as I round the corner, i’m immediately met with a pair of eyes. Jacks eyes.

I stop dead in my tracks, ready to turn back around. I was already drowning in him. I was drowning, and I was taking him with me. No more. But god- fuck. Those eyes, and the way he looks at me with them. Like he knows i’m not a monster. I’ve never been looked at like that before, and if I have…I was too young to remember. He looks and me like i’m brand new, and shiny…like there’s not a gigantic gash on the side of my forehead. He’s having a conversation with a doctor from OR, he’s not even looking at her. How rude, I think. But I love it. See? Selfish. On a normal day, he’d flash a small unnoticed grin my way. But not today. Today was not normal. I decide to swallow my pride, I mouth a quick “hi” and toss my hand up for a small wave.

He doesn’t do or say anything after that. My stomach twists in a frizzled knot. Fuck.

This shift has been pretty forgettable. I’m so tired, I don’t even think I should be working on, or diagnosing patients right now. I feel like i’ve been floating outside my body for 4 hours. From trying to maneuver around Jack, and trying to not lose my shit with asswipe patients…I am going crazy.

I walk swiftly on my feet, I don’t even think I can feel them anymore. Then, a hand grabbed my arm and I get pulled into a dimly lit room.

“What the fu-” I gasp tripping over my feet.

A firm hand flys over my mouth. Jack. His arm is wrapped around the small of my back, and his hand is splayed over my lips. He walks me backward until i’m pressed against the wall.

“You good?” He whispers, I nod. His hand drops, landing on my waist. “How are you?” He asks me. I break eye contact and look down at his chest, breathing in his smell. “Still breathing, I guess.” I shrug. “You did good with that kid.” He’s referring to the kid I helped out with a panic attack. His mom needed emergency surgery, or she was going to die. I taught him breathing exercises and told him everything was going to be okay, and got him snacks from the break room. “I…did what anybody else would have done.”

Just then he catches a glimpse of the cut on my head. “You cleanin’ this?” His fingers trace over the wound, showing compassion. I nod, dropping my head lower, now looking at the ground. My heart won’t stop fucking beating…I can hear it in my ears. My eyes get blurry and I feel tears fall from my cheeks, I sniffle. “Hey, hey…what’s wrong? What happened?” He grabs the sides of my face, tilting it upwards. “I thought you- I thought that…maybe you think Im… crazy? I don’t know.” I scramble, trying to find words for what I wanted to say. I look into his eyes, trying not to cry more. They were worth crying over.

“Listen here. You are no different from anybody else. You are amazing, and in pain, and trying. You have your own issues but…who doesn’t. You are human. You are a person. You are flesh and blood, and you have a heart. And I see you. I see you.” He rests his forehead on mine, we stare at each other for a moment, and i can’t help but smile. I drop my head into the crook of his neck breathing in his scent. “You smell good…” I grin against his collarbone.

“Really? That’s what you got from my speech?” He huffs out a laugh.

I giggle, “No…but, I am sorry…about today.”

He grins, pressing his lips to mine. If I knew i’d be this obsessed with the man I never would’ve made a move. My hands slide behind his neck, pulling him in for more. “Can I bring you home with me?” He mouths against my lips. I don’t hesitate, “Mhm…” He breaks the kiss. “Okay- god. We can’t be doing this here. Especially here. Just…find me after shift, okay?” I nod, gifting him a soft smile that’s hung over the feeling of the kiss.

“Okay…i’m goin back to that shit show out there. Come out in a few, just so nobody…yknow.”

“Yep.”

“K. I’ll see ya, babygirl.”

My pulse quickens, “Jack.”

He hums, his hand on the doorknob ready to leave.

“I see you too.”

He smiles,

Jack Abbot x Oc! Reader

summary: summary: Quinn Robinavitch has a troubling past. She can't even make sense of of it herself. Being a 26 year old med student working with her dad, makes it just as hard. And then she meets Dr. Abbot. the handsome, edgy, attending physician, and her whole world unravels beneath her. Juggling trying to figure out her traumatic past, and what happened with her mom, to being a top notch med student, it just so happens he's her biggest problem. But he also might be the only thing keeping her sane.

content warnings: swearing, flirting, age gap, mid 20s/early 50s, trauma, smut, dirty talk, angst, some fluff, angst, talk of medication, panic attacks…

authors note: ok bro im sorry its taken so long to update this damn story like i literally just didn’t know what I wanted to and I was about to give up…But i didn’t! And now I actually know where this story is going so don’t expect me to take this long again…anyways i hope you enjoy!!!

word count: 3.1k

chapter 3

Last night turned into a total and complete blur, but a very…memorable blur. Like, your first kiss, or a very distant memory of your crush from kindergarten. I don’t know what it is that makes me act the way I do around Jack. I feel like normally I don’t get that…turned on, by anyone, or anything. But god, I turn into an animal around him. Maybe it’s the fact that he’s older, and he knows what to do, what to say…how to say it. There’s something so wrong, and almost illegal feeling about all of this. Like, I know that it’s filthy, and disgusting, but I love it. Guess that says a lot about my character.

I open my eyes, it feels like my eyelashes weigh 10 pounds each. I’m laying on my stomach with my nose half shoved in the crease of a pillow, the smell traveling down my airway. Ugh, that smell…a certain smell so strong but not in that annoying way, where it gives you a headache. I slowly, but surely roll over onto my back and looking around taking in my surroundings. That’s when my heart sinks and my body tenses. I’m not even in my dingy ass apartment. It didn’t take me long to realize that I am in Jack Abbots bed. Especially because i’m… naked. I sit up and let out a huff, running my hands over my face. “Ugh…fuck.” I swing my legs over the side of the bed and crouch down to the nearest item of clothing I can find. A T-shirt, certainly not mine, but it’s a shirt. I don’t know where on earth my clothes are. I used gods strength to lift my body from the bed. I am so tired. The shirt engulfs my top half, leaving my ass and thighs exposed. I bite my lip and look around the carpeted floor, “There they are.” I spot my underwear wrinkled in the corner next to his dresser. I bend down and snatch them with two fingers, slipping them on.

My attention gets taken by the faint sound of clanking around from behind the bedroom door. I’m gonna assume that it’s okay for me to go out there, and i’m praying he didn’t kidnap me. I slowly walk towards the door, twisting the knob and opening it. I’m immediately met with the smell of fresh coffee, what a relief. His back is turned to me, I don’t think he heard the door open. Well, this is…awkward. What if he turns around and i’m just standing here like a weirdo, like he thinks i’m watching him or something. My face cringes and I slowly turn around back to walk back into the bedroom. “Hey, kiddo.” I hear his voice from behind me. Great. I turn on my heels and face him again, making a face, “Hi…” I nervously smile. He’s leaning on the kitchen counter with his forearms jutting out in front of him. His eyes were focused on the coffee pot off to his side, then the trailed off to me. He smirks, “That my shirt?” He tosses his head in my direction. My cheeks go red, and I grab the hem of the shirt, trying to not look like a nervous wreck. “Oh. Yea…I couldn’t find any of my clothes.” I start to walk over the to kitchen counter, and watch his head turn to the door, hinting to me where my clothes are. Ah, how nice, they’re just…sitting there in a ball…by his front door. Was I that eager to get in this guys pants? I purse my lips, haphazardly grinning at him. I swear, i’ve never been this scared of a man the morning after.

I sit down at the counter, pulling out a stool in front of me, and grabbing the coffee he set down for me. “Are you hungry?” He asks. I take a sip of my coffee, the heat running down the back of my throat. “I could eat…” I set the coffee back down, and nearly gag. Black coffee. Shouldn’t one know that a 26 year old woman, would hate black coffee? Unless she lives in Paris, or Prague, and they have a terrible habit of smoking a cigarette along with it? “Cool. There’s a diner downtown. The food isn’t…great? But, it’s food.”

He shrugs, walking around the counter, towards me. I instinctively turn my body to face him, his hands landing on the sides of my ribs, he rubs up and down. He leans down and kisses my lips, hungry. One of his hands finds the back of my hair, tugging, and I hum into the messy kiss. I open my mouth giving him permission to enter his tongue, and he does. A vibrant heat pools between my legs, and I can’t even extinguish the feeling I had due to his hips being planted between my thighs. His hand travels from my hair to my throat, squeezing lightly. I whine at the automatic feeling of his lengthy fingers wrapped around my neck. How could I already be this wet after what we did last night…? I didn’t think I had it me. Flashes from last night jolt into my brain and I think of the length, and how thick his cock was. God, what am I doing to myself, this is just making it worse. Jack breaks the kiss, just to look at me. His hands landing still placed firmly around my throat, his hair tousled from the night before, and his pajama pants. Aw, I didn’t even see that. “You’re so fuckin’ sexy…Jesus.” He mutters under his breath. My thighs were already parted, resting on his hips, waiting for him. “Want me to fuck you again?” He asks, grimly. I nod, biting my bottom lip. “Words, baby girl.” The pet name made my stomach sink into itself, and at that point I couldn’t tell if it was the desperate feeling of my arousal, or the fact that he just made me nervous. Probably both. “I want you to fuck me.” I say slowing, sighing, catching my breath. I keep my eyes on his as I reach and undo the string of his pants. His face never faltered, his hands were still in the same spots, one on my hip, one around my neck. I slide a hand down into the waistband, grabbing his cock. My mouth parts at the sight, it’ll never fail to amaze me. I slide my ass down the stool some, positioning myself. Pulling my panties to the side, I run his tip up and down my wet folds, brushing my swollen clit in the process. This alone could make me cum, just the feeling of us being so domestic like this. We’re like animals, the best way possible.

“You tryin’ to kill me, honey? Jesus…that’s it.” He moves his hand from my throat, taking control of his shaft. He lines himself up with my entrance, and I feel him stare at me, while I stare at the connection being made below us. Then, he pistons forward, causing my left leg to falter from his hip. I let out a frigid moan, as my brows furrow and my eyes water. “Mmmph.. Fuck- Jack!” His hand reaches down to grab my thigh, hoisting it back up to rest on his hip. The new angle causes a tear to fall from my eye. “You alright, baby?” He pulls out, and my eyes roll to the back of my head. I nod, “Uh huh…”

His pace becomes unmatched, unscathed, nothing could stop him. He ruts in and out, slow, then fast…slow, then fast. My head is groggy and I feel like I just woke up again. His cock repeatedly hits that needy spot inside me. He reaches forward, hand leaving my thigh, and he grabs the hem of my (his) t-shirt. My tits are so exposed, he can see all of me. “Bite.” He rasps, and I comply, clamping the rough fabric between my teeth, and letting the drool from the desire soak the edge of the shirt. “mmmm- right there," I muffle, squirming a little when he angles his hips so he can hit my g-spot with each thrust.

“Yeah? Right there?” He echoes, “You need me right—here?” His hand falls to my lower belly, applying pressure, and making me feel him more. I moan loud, and sharp…i’ve never been this vocal. “J-jack…I’m gonna- fuh~ck.” I cry out and grab a hold of his forearms. “Come on, babygirl. You got it.” His words send me over the edge. “Oh~fuck! I’m cumming— shit!” He fucks me through my orgasm, feeling my pussy spasm and clench around his cock. He sucked in a shaky breath at the tightness, watching with a low groan as I gush around him. Just then he pulls out, and I wince at the empty feeling. He crouches low, still between my legs. “What are you-“ His mouth meets my sopping hole with hunger, mouth open, licking, and sucking at the mess he made. I watch him in awe, my eyes teary and my cheeks hot. His tongue slides in and out, where his dick once was, craving more of the taste. He wraps his hands and wrists around my thighs, burying his face deeper into my pussy, his nose nudging my swollen clit. “You’re such a good girl, y’know that? So good.” My jaw is slack watching him, as he stops, resting his cheek on my inner thigh and looking at me. Then I realize… “Wait- You didn’t…” I scramble. He chuckles, kissing the soft skin of my legs, “It’s okay. I did it for you, really. Just wanted to make you feel good.” He directs his kisses upward, making a b-line up my stomach. “I just wanted to hear those pretty sounds, and see that pretty face you make, just wanted you to feel good.”

“But- did I not…do enough? I can um…uh…” How embarrassing is it that a fully grown, developed woman can’t say the work ‘cock’ out loud? Pretty embarrassing. But I love that he knew what I meant though. He grins, and gives me a peck on the lips. “Don’t feel like you have to do anything for me. I take care of you. Got that?” I look up at him with heavy eyes, “But-“

“Quinn.” I take him using my real name for once, as a sign to just shut up and leave it. I nod, and finally sit up straight. “Sooo… Breakfast?” I smile with my teeth, and he huffs out a small laugh, pushing hair away from my face. “Yea, go get some pants on, kiddo.” I break free from his arms caging me and waltz into his bedroom, finding a pair of pajama pants in his dresser drawer. They’re a bit big…but it’s fine.

The drive to the diner wasn’t long, but it was long enough for me to think about everything that unfolded in the past 24 hours. Especially last night. After Jack and I had sex, I tried to leave, but he didn’t want me to…and I didn’t either. But…I left my medication on my bathroom counter with the intention to take them later that night, when I got home. All I can do right now is think about what might happen if I start to lose my shit and tweak the fuck out. The last time this happened I was 14. I spent the night at this girls house, down in the suburbs. She was so cool, she was 17 and she had this pink streak running through her hair, and piercings all over her face. She was my best friend for a few months, and thinking I could trust her I told her about my… ”problems.” She ended up convincing herself that I was this crazy alien with super powers? She told me not to take my meds past the time needed to see what would happen, and all hell broke loose. Moral of the story is, do not tell a crazy sci-fi freak that you’re on medication due to something that happened when you were younger. I just don’t want all hell to break loose this time. Not when things are good for me. Finally.

Me and Jack sit at a booth in the very back, on my account. I get tea, he gets coffee. I get pancakes, he gets bacon and eggs. We talk about everything. It’s weird it’s like, after you have sex with someone and you do something so intimate, you can tell them anything. “You know what’s funny?” He asks, after swallowing and bite of his food. “Hm” I hum, shoving a bite of pancake in my mouth. “I never met you before a couple days ago.” I stop chewing, and my eyes kind of widen. Brush it off…just .brush. it. off.

I look back down at my pancakes, “Oh, yeah. Uhm…I didn’t live with my dad. When I was younger, I mean.”

“You lived with your mom?” I grip my fork harder between my finger tips, playing with the strawberries on my plate. “Kind of. There was just a lot of bullshit between both of them. They got into this really bad fight about something. And my dad…filed for divorce. My mom got full custody, and I visited my dad on weekends. But even then I didn’t get to see him that much, because of work.” Am I getting word vomit? Shut the fuckkkk up, I tell myself. But apparently I choose ignorance. I look up from my food and Jack is staring at me, like he’s feeling sorry. I purse my lips, and my nostrils flare. “Okay. Stop looking at me like that.” His brows furrow, his mouth full of food, “Like what?”

“Like i’m a fat kid running to the ice cream truck.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about. I’m just listening.” He drops his head and laughs, it eventually fades. “Look, i’m just trying to get the lay of the land. Your dad never talks about anything from his past. Hell, he didn’t mention he had a kid until a few years ago.” He shoves another bite into his mouth.

“I just don’t really…talk about it with anyone.”

“Do you want to talk about it?” My heart gets a bit warm. He’s got that instinct in him, he cares. I look back down at my plate, “Do you want to hear it?”

“If it means it’ll make you feel better, then yes.”

“Okay…” I take a deep breath, and push my plate away from in front of me. I could be sick. Of course, there was the option to just not tell him. But I don’t know, I kind of wanted to. “So, my mom…She had a lot of…issues? Like, she would freak out about stuff that she saw.” I tuck my hair behind my ear and clear my throat, his chewing slowed. “And one day when I was 13… she— I guess she saw something that just, pushed her?”

His face got more serious now, pretty normal considering i’m talking about issues that run in my bloodline. “I came home from school, and she was drinking. She was always drinking, so I just took that as a sign that maybe I should go to my room. I put my headphones in…I think I was drawing. Then, I heard glass breaking, and banging around. So, stupidly, I left my room.” I play with my hands in my lap, I tear off a hangnail, and start bleeding. “Uhm…and when I went into the living room, I didn’t see her.”

I clear my throat,

“Then I did.”

I zone out, just rambling on about how crazy my mom was. I couldn’t even look at Jack. I couldn’t look at him when telling him what made me, myself. I think about that all the time. What I could’ve been like if it hadn’t happened. I bite my top lip and shudder inside my own skin, standing to my feet. My breathing staggers, “I have to go to the bathroom.” My legs have never felt weaker, I could crumble like a tower of cards at any moment. I don’t even check to see make sure Jack isn’t following me, or said anything to me before frantically getting up. I push open the bathroom door, it’s a one person…thank god. Immediately I aim for the toilet, telling myself not to look in the mirror.

Don’t look in the mirror.

Don’t look in the mirror.

I rest my head between my knees.

Just fucking breathe, Quinn.

Tears well in my eyes and my heart is beating a million miles per second. The beat is felt in my knees and it runs through my shoulders in an ever so shuddering form. I need to get the fuck out of here. I’ll walk if I have to, I just-

knock knock.

“Quinn…you good?”

Jacks voices echos lowkey off the bathroom tile.

It causes me to jolt from my wavering position, I stand, holding my head in my hands. I swallow, “Yea! Yea, i’m fine!” Its high pitched tone gives off an illusion nobody could believe.

“That doesn’t sound reassuring.”

“Jack, i’m fine.”

I stupidly stumble towards to mirror, looking myself in the eyes. It’s the most dangerous thing, yet the only thing I can seem to focus on. I have to keep reminding myself that i’m not her, that I look more like my dad. Yea, I look like my dad…I just got all the fucked up psychological shit from my mother. I flip the water on, it’s shallow pressure not making this any better. Bending down, I gather water in my two hands, splashing my face. Maybe this is just a fluke. Maybe i’m just getting nervous talking about it. I look back up…Maybe i’m-

Her face.

“AH! Fuck!” My knees collapse and my body crumbles like cards from a deck. The loud bang of my side hitting the toilet, a blood curdling sob exits my throat. In the faint distortion of my cry’s, I hear the doorknob jiggle, and the door finally bursts open. Jack enters the bathroom and I look up to him with tense, teary eyes. “Quinn…what the fuck.” He quickly closes the door behind him and crouches in front of me, taking my hands in his. “Quinn. What happened?”

I murmur nonsense straight to his face. When I go crazy, I go manic.

“it’s all my fault.”

sob.

“i’m sorry.”

cry.

“i didn’t mean to.”

weep.

“You didn’t mean to, what, Quinn…?”

“Kill her.”

Break.

Break..

Break…

and,

~Jack abbot × OC~

summary: Quinn Robinavitch has a troubling past. She can't even make sense of of it herself. Being a 26 year old med student working with her dad, makes it just as hard. And then she meets Dr. Abbot. the handsome, edgy, attending physician, and her whole world unravels beneath her. Juggling trying to figure out her traumatic past, and what happened with her mom, to being a top notch med student, it just so happens he's her biggest problem. But he also might be the only thing keeping her sane.

content warning: medical talk, swearing, flirting, age gap, mid 20s/early 50s, trauma, smut, car sex, dirty talk, angst, some fluff

authors note: ayyy ok so we’re on the second chapter. I honestly didn’t know what the hell I was doing with this one at the end I was writing to write and my brain left my head so I think this is worse than the first chapter, i’m sorry don’t kill me, i love you guy

word count: 5.1k

chapter 2

I didn’t sleep at all last night due to the intense adrenaline rush pumping through my veins. Definitely shouldn’t have had phone sex with my attending last night. Jesus, I had phone sex with my attending. It still hasn’t fully sunk in yet. I kept repeating it in my head as I tossed and turned all night. The smell of guilt, but also pleasure running through the room. I throw my legs over the side of my bed and my feet hit the cold floor.

I run my hands over my face and through my hair. I feel like i’m hung over, without the pounding head ache of course. The bathroom door mocks me as I try to get up. God damn, I’m so tired. I lift myself up and stretch, my arms reaching out.

The bathroom light stings my eyes as I brush my teeth. I need something even more insane to happen to me to get my mind off of last night, in fact i’m begging for it. I can barely focus on a day-to-day routine like brushing my teeth. He’s brainwashed me. I tie my hair into a low bun, it’s a little messy but, i’m way too fucking tired to fix it. I throw an undershirt on to wear below my scrubs, putting those on too. I huff and walk out to look at myself in the mirror, I look like shit. Even if I ran a brush through my hair a hundred times on each side, it still wouldn’t lay down completely. I look at myself a little more, before rolling my eyes and scoffing at the sight.

I never was too secure in myself. Boys in school never liked me which I guess automatically meant I wasn’t conventionally pretty. My dirty blonde hair used to annoy me, it was this wavy untamed mess that was curly in one section, wavy in the next, and straight in another. My dark brown eyes were buggy and big, and when I went to the eye doctor at 10, they told me I needed glasses. I went home after that and cried for like 3 hours and begged my parents to not make me get them. And every year I failed the school eye exam with blatant confidence. I mistook my F’s for E’s and my Q’s for O’s. But ya know what? I couldn’t have been happier to not be called four eyes for the last 16 years of my life. I slide on my sneakers and make a b-line for the door, I could skip breakfast…though, I didn’t eat dinner last night…Whatever I’ll just suffer and push through maybe i’ll sneak one of those sandwiches they leave out for patients, or eat the shitty cafeteria food. I grab my keys off the table— or sorry, key, off the table. I keep forgetting that I don’t own a vehicle anymore. I miss my worn out, broken down jeep.

My feet still hurt from yesterday, I wiggle my toes in my shoes and feel the ache as I walk. Maybe that boiling hot shower didn’t help after all. I look down the street at the bus stop. I sigh, I could handle the bus stop…Just for today. Maybe. I jog with whatever energy I have left as I watch the bus make a turn down the street i’m on. I quickly pull out my card and scan it on the reader, it makes a quip little beeping sound to confirm my valuable purchase. I smile at the driver and make my way down the aisle of seats. Thank god it was so early, nobody was on here with me. I watch out the window, and slip my air-pods in my ears. Fiona Apple is calling my name. I need my therapist.

I walk through the brisk doors, it’s a feeling i’ll never get used to. Like it’s the idea that I belong somewhere, possibly? Sad thought, true though.

I scan my ID badge and walk through another set of doors, officially committing myself to new-found hell. I am scared shitless though. Not only would it be first day…but it would also be my first day dealing with post-phone sex with one of my superiors. His face is gonna make my heart drop out of my ass when I see him. It sounds shitty, but that’s all i’m worried about right now. Which is terrible because that shouldn’t be something i’m worried about. Because I shouldn’t have don’t it! I’ve been kicking myself ever since I came last night. My arms cross over my chest and I rub up and down, was it always this cold?

“You okay, kiddo?”

Kiddo.

I turn to see Dana smiling at me, a worrisome one, but a smile is a smile at this point. “Yeah, I good. Just a little…cold.” My teeth chatter. I don’t think it’s really that cold, but my nerves are getting the best of me. “I got a sweater behind my chair over there if you need it, should fit you.” I purse my lips and nod, basically racing to that damn jacket. I slip it on over my shoulders and immediately warm up. I look up at the TV screen above me, scanning the chart. “Mornin’ Abbot!”

I hear Dana shout behind me.

Fuck. I said that my heart would drop whenever I saw his face. But I haven’t even seen it yet, which is worse. So this is a sign that my future at this hospital is officially over. (Which honestly, i’m not that upset about.) I don’t look away from the chart. My eyes are glued to the screen, I think i’m gonna hold a time record for keeping my eyes open for as long as possible. I cross my arms over my chest, “Morning, Kiddo.” He slips behind me, brushing my back in the process. I do a double take, what? Finally blinking I look over at him, beside me. “Morning…” It comes out slow, like I find him insane. Because I do. He glanced at me and huffs out a shortened laugh to himself, “You didn’t get much sleep last night.” Is he being cute? I feel like he’s a being cute, I can’t tell over the amount of buzzing going through my brain right now. My eyes go wide and I force out a fake, awkward, smile. “Yeah! Ya know, I uh, I don’t think I did.”

He grins and at me, “You nervous about today? I know it kept me up all night when I was a student.” Yeah. He’s being cute. Fuck that. He’s really gonna go on, and pretend that he didn’t basically booty-call me last night with the utmost

attempt to get in my pants? I huff out a laugh of my own this time. “Mhm. Yeah, it was really hard to sleep. I kept getting these really annoying texts, and calls. Kept me up all night.” He turns so his full body faces me now, and I gulp down a cup of fear, it lands hard in my chest. He examines my face, and body. “Never thought I’d say this, but I like you better in uniform.” He smirks at me in the most sadistic way. Subject change. Great. I thought all doctors were supposed to be charming and humble. He’s charming for sure, but not humble. “Okay, kiddo. Let’s get to work, yeah?” He looks up at the chart up above now, and I feel defeated. He beat me, he won. That’s fine, i’ll just make today hell for him.

He walks me through the whole day and I follow him around like a lost puppy, complying.

I helped him with countless patients today, he lets me do most of the talking, and with every room we walk in he always starts with, “Hi, My name is Dr. Abbot. This is my student, Dr. Robinavitch.” Funny as it sounds, and delusional…he was torturing me all day. The entire time I talked with patients I could feel his retinas burning through the back of my skull. When he left me to go do charting, that was my only sigh of relief. I felt like I couldn’t breathe around the damn guy. I was under pressure due to the fact that he’s an attending, an attending that I indulged in inappropriate activity with. On top of that, he was completely ignoring it. Which honestly, props to him. One, because normally a guy wouldn’t be able to keep his mouth shut about something like this, and two, because it’s professional of him to not bring it up in the work place. I’m just an overthinking turd and this is the most exciting thing that’s happened in my life, in months. I zone out, in charts when I hear my name, or my dad’s.

“Robinavitch I need you!” I peek my head up from my station, not seeing anyone in my line of vision. I assume they mean my dad. “Quinn!” I whip my head behind me to see Jack, peeking his head outside the OR. I get up from my chair and quickly walk over to him, he hands me an apron and mask. My throat goes tight. He’s got me doing this already? I slip on the apron and pull the mask over my face and follow him to his side of the patient. “Scalpel.” He holds a hand out to his side waiting for someone to hand him the sharp object. Once he retrieves it, he holds it out for me to grab. My eyes go wide. “What? No, I don’t think that’s a good idea, I mean I’ve only ever done-“ I panic.

“Just relax, I’ll walk you through it.”

“Dr. Abbot-“

“Dr. Robinavitch.” He raises his brows at me, putting an emphasis on the doctor part. My hands shake, and my heart pounds. He’s right, i’m a doctor, what am I doing? I take the scalpel from his hand and hold it properly. “Before anything else, confirm landmarks and stay mindful of the surrounding structures. This area is unforgiving—precision matters. Your goal here isn’t speed, it’s control.” He calmly says to me. It’s the most relaxed i’ve felt all day. “Got that?” He asks.

“Yes.”

“Good. Make a clean, deliberate incision over the lateral hip. Keep it steady—no hesitation. We’re going through layers carefully to reach the joint capsule and relieve that pressure.” He reaches down to guide my hand to the woman’s hip. He hovers, the back of his fingers grazing my knuckles. The blade reaches and punctures the skin, I see red. I don’t think i’m even breathing right now, is this ever gonna get easier for me?

“That’s it. Gentle handling. We’re here to drain the infected fluid and reduce inflammation before it causes permanent damage. Stay focused.” The blade continues to go down, I gulp.

His front is pressed against my back and the heat of his body wraps around me. “That’s it, you got it. Good. You’re doing good.” He says lightly into my ear. I feel myself about to melt into him. God. Fuck. This is not the time, or place to be thinking about him like that. “Anddd, done.”

He stops my hand before it travels too far down and I mess everything up. I let out a sigh of relief, the scalpel still in my hand. “That was it?” I try to smile at the weight being lifted off of my chest. “Yeah. You did great. Stay to shadow.”

The next few hours were just about as exciting as the last. To work this job you gotta have ADHD or something, either that or you’re just crazy. On occasion i’d talk to some people I met the day prior. A doctor named Trinity Santos. She was funny, except for her god awful nickname she gave me. “Golden egg.” She said it had something to do with the fact that i’m my father’s daughter. Dennis Whitaker was one of very few I enjoyed talking to, he was easy going and nice. Just…a normal person, to have a normal interaction with. Finally. He definitely got a better nickname than me though. Blah.

The clock finally hits 8:30. Me, Whitaker, and Santos have been playing with a paper fortune teller we made out of old scrap paper. We were supposed to leave an hour and a half ago but the boss made us stay late to finish our charting. I finished mine twenty minutes ago, but was staying in pity of them. I look at the time at the computer in front of me. “Alright, that’s my cue.” I groan, feeling defeated from today. Trinity scoffs at me, “What! We’re in the middle of making serious life decisions here.”

“Make my decisions for me. I’m beat.” I laugh, gathering my stuff from the station. “I can’t do that. That’s not how the fortune teller works. Your fate, is in your hands.” She closes her eyes and hums, doing some weird gestures with her hands. I roll my eyes. “Do Whitakers, i’m sure there’s something fantastic waiting for him in that little paper miracle.”

Trinity turns so she’s facing Whitaker and all he can do is give her a contorted face. She clears her throat. “Ahem! Will Huckleberry be a Huckleberry for the rest of his life and let his Huckleberry tendencies take over?” She asks the figure, unserious. “Would you look at that! It said yes!”

“You are sooo funny.” He quips and I giggle to myself. Trinity actually was funny, in an…unsettling, enjoyable way. I throw my bag over my shoulder and grab my phone from the table.

“Okay, i’ll see you guys tomorrow.” I smile at them before walking off. “Bye, Golden egg!”

I make my way out of the ED saying goodnight to day-shift and hello to night-shift. Nothing would make me happier right now than to lay in my comfy bed. I can’t wait to sleep. Ugh jeez, that sounds amazing right now, actually. To fall asleep on the couch watching cable TV, a bowl of chocolate ice cream accompanying me. I put in my air-pods as I walk out of the final set of doors, ready to contemplate the whole day, glossing over things I did wrong and right. It surprisingly wasn’t that bad, besides for-

“There she is.” I stop dead in my tracks. By now I know that voice. I slowly turn around, taking the airpod out of my ear. “Oh, hi.” He’s leaning on the wall beside the doors, like he was waiting for me to come out so he could pounce. “I was wondering when you’d be out. You were supposed to get off at 7:00.” He says, pushing his body off the wall, and putting his hands in his pockets letting his shoulders slouch. He was waiting. “You’ve been waiting for an hour?” My jaw drops slightly.

“And a half.” He says it like that makes it any better. “Why?” I ask, turning my whole body to face him. “You don’t have a car?” I could lie and say it was parked down the street, that I couldn’t find anywhere to park, so I took the chance of parking a block away. But I don’t. “No, I don’t.”

He nods, slowly, beginning to walk in my direction. “Wait- how did you know I don’t have a car?”

“Dana told me.” He stops in his tracks, and he runs a hand through his already messy hair.

“Of course she did.” I breathe out, my hair catching in the wind of my breath. “Come. I’ll give you a ride home.” He picks up his steps again.

“I’m good.” I turn away from him and start walking away, keeping my composure. I am not getting in a car with this guy. He’s…an asshole.

No matter how much I want to let myself, I can’t. I can’t. I can’t, I can’t.

“Quinn, I’m not letting you walk home this late. Get in the car.” He walks towards it, pressing the button on his keys so the lights flare up.

“Goodnight!” I shout at him from behind me. I put my air pod in and take a deep breath. I’ve had my fair share of Dr. Jack Abbot today. My feet pick up a steady pace as I walk down the side walk. As I walk further and further I notice that it actually is kind of scary walking out here in the dark. But I can’t really tell if it’s me telling myself that, or him. Either way I don’t really care, I just need to get home. Something to my right catches my eye briefly, and I do a double take. Jacks car follows next to me, I stop dead in my tracks. “Are you following me now?”

“Would you quit being a pain in my ass and just get in the damn car?” He lightly shouts from outside his window.

“Oh, what was that? Sorry! Can’t hear you!” I point to my ears, revealing the little white buds. I didn’t care if I was being an asshole. My whole body hurt from working all day, and I can’t even care less about tomorrow. Or any day after today. All I can think about is my bed, and that ice cream. I think so hard about it that I don’t even see him pull over, get out of the truck, and jog over to me. “What the hell are you-“ He lifts me off the ground, my belly resting on his shoulder. “Jack! What the fuck! Put me down!”

I smack his back, but he doesn’t budge.

“I swear to god, Jack! I’ll scream!” He still doesn’t budge. I continue to try and wrestle my body out of his grip, and I realized i’ve failed once he opens the passenger door and puts me in the seat. I huff out of breath from fighting for my life, basically. He slams the door in my face and I watch him walk around to the other side, getting in. “Are you fucking psychotic?” I turn to face him in my seat. All he can do is grin, his k-9s peaking out from his lips. He puts the car in drive, and presses his foot on the gas. “Jack, you don’t even know where I live.” He ignores me. Am I being kidnapped right now? I turn in my seat and just let him drive wherever he’s going. I let my head rest against the window and let the minutes pass. Then he pulls over. I sit up in an instant and check my surroundings. No weird alleyway, we’re not in front of a building that looks like it could be his apartment, or…mine.

I turn to face him again and he’s looking out the window. “I don’t think I can handle myself around you.” He finally speaks. Gosh, I thought I was gonna have to water-board something out of him. My voice hitches in my throat, “What are you talking about?”

“You are…completely, incredibly, and…inexplicably sexy…and I don’t know what the fuck I am going to do.” He holds the steering wheel, rubbing the leather with his thumb. He turns his face to mine.

“Okay…So then, what are we gonna do?”

“Whatever you want, i’ll do whatever you want.”

He reaches over to my side and puts a hand on the back of my hair. Sometime when we were driving I took it down, and i’m sure it’s just as big of a mess as it was from when I woke up this morning. He gently strokes the back of my head, and we look at each other for what feels like an eternity. This man did something to me i’ve never felt before. With that, I grabbed his forearm with my hand lowering it so it was resting in front of me now. He had really nice hands, and arms, his veins were so prominent. I pick his arm up and bring it to my lips, and kiss over the veins running up and down. They’re so pronounced I feel them on my lips, and something in my head took over. I dart my tongue out and run it up and down the streams of blue and green, I wasn’t even sure what the fuck I was doing. I know that I probably looked insane, but it was driving him crazy. I keep my eyes on his the entire time, letting my pupils do all the talking. “i want you and i don’t care what the consequences are and what my karma is gonna be. i just want you.” They said.

My tongue glosses upward towards his wrist, and up to the base of his hand. I pull his arm away for a second, just to look at what I had done. I smile to myself for a quick second before gently taking his pointer finger into my mouth. I wrap my lips around his finger tip and suck. “Fuck, Quinn.” He rasps and I look down at his lap. Shocker, he was hard. I figured he probably was. What guy wouldn’t absolutely love a 26 year old sitting in his car, and sucking on his fingers, waiting to fuck him, like I was. I swirl my tongue, licking his finger clean, before taking his middle finger into my mouth. I look up at him with my buggy eyes, the ones that everybody loves. He squirms in his seat, and looks like he’s trying to catch his breath. I pull away and giggle, “I haven’t even fucked you yet.”

“Oh, you think you’re gonna fuck me?”

“You said we could do whatever I want.”

I smirk and he huffs out a small laugh. Our smiles fade and he reaches beside himself to move the seat back. My chest tightens, and I realize that we actually are going to. I can’t just tease him forever. He looks at me, then his lap, then back to me, signaling for me to have a seat. I climb over the console, struggling in the process, and now my face is getting red. My thighs land on either side of him and but I don’t lower my hips. I’m scared that i’ll cum right there if I do. He takes a hand and tucks my hair behind my ear, I think he knew I was scared. His hands grip my hips, firm, squeezing the flesh, and forcing me down onto his bulge. Fuck, it felt so good, just like I knew it would. I watch him struggle to keep a straight face. I whine quietly and the pressure of his cock between my legs. With one hand on my hip, the other finds my hair and he pulls me in for a kiss. It’s messy, and longing, and wrong in every single way, but I love it. My hands find his hair and I grind down onto his bulge, gathering friction. “Ugh- fuck.” He moans into my mouth and I swallow it. I break the kiss and grab the hem of both of my shirts, pulling the over my head, left in my bra. His hands run up and down my bare sides, feeling every curve, and structure of my body. “There isn’t a part of you that isn’t absolutely perfect is there?” He gawks at my stomach, his eyes trailing down, all the way to my belly button. “What’s this?” His fingers toy with the little gem in my skin.

“A belly button ring…?”

“Didn’t peg your daddy as someone who’d let that happen.”

“It’s a long story. I was sixteen. Can you take off your shirt?” I was embarrassingly eager at this point now. He laughs and reaches down the hem of his shirt, grabbing it and pulling it over his head. My hands reach forward, running down his neck and to his chest. I gawk at his perfect structure. “You’re pretty hot for an old guy.” I grin.

“Shut up.” He grabs the back of my head away smiling into another kiss. His hands roam my back and grip the fat of my ass, causing me to moan. I grind down on his dick again, but I needed more, there was way too much fabric in the way. His hands find my lower stomach, and his fingers start untying the string of my scrubs.

I lift my hips so that way he can have easier access, “Lift your leg baby.” God he was evil, it’s like he knew what would form that little pit in my stomach. I lift my right leg, then my left, as he works waistband down my hips and thighs. My cheeks glow a bright red, I’m not embarrassed of my body. I’m just very closed off. “You okay, you cold? He asks, sounding genuine and thoughtful for the first time, I shake my head slowly. He gently pulls my face back into his, kissing me harshly. His fingers trail back down to my stomach, going lower, and lower, and lower. Until his finger tips meet the waist band of my panties, and dipping them inside. I lift my hips so he has more of an opening, his fingers slowly trail from above my core, down to my clit. I break the from kiss, and moan. “Mmm. Fuck.” The pads of his fingers stay on my sensitive clit and rub slow, methodical circles. “Come on, ride my fingers baby.” He breathes out and I comply, of course. My hips rock back and forth, my ass bumping the steering wheel. “You like to be told what to do, huh? Like the feeling of someone else in control? Someone who knows how you like to be fucked?”

Thank god. He’s a talker. No guy has ever made me cum so fast. Tension builds in my lower abdomen and my heart pounds in my ears. “Fuck, Da-“ My words falter, I remember how embarrassed I was when I said it over the phone last night. “Go on, say it.”

I whine.

“Say it.”

I can’t take much more, god damn it. “Daddy!”

Finally the rope snaps and my heart races a million miles per second. He chuckles at his score of winning me over, “Good girl.” He removes his fingers and applies both of his hands to my hips, massaging the doughy skin.

I hold eye contact and let my brain leave my head, and my hands fall to his waistband. I tug them firmly, and he lifts his own hips, helping me out. He moves my hips back a few inches so he could get ahold of his cock. He is huge. I don’t know if i’m gonna be able to…handle that. My stomach does that back flip thing, and my tongue goes dry. “Fuck, you’re big.” My lips curve into this nervous smile and my eyebrows flex. He huffs out a small giggle, “You seemed so confident a couple minutes ago. Thought you wanted to fuck me.” Smug asshole.

I lift my hips again, positioning myself over his dick. I reach down and grab his shaft, and dip my forehead down to meet his. I stare into his eyes and almost realize what i’m doing. I am a problem, i’m a giant problem. But he started it. I line his cock up to my entrance, and lower myself, wincing at the new found pain. “Mph- shit.” My teeth clamp down on each other, i’m wouldn’t be suprised if I have a tooth ache after. “Augh- fuck, you’re tight.” His head lolls back, causing my forehead to drop lower into the crook of his neck. One of my hands finds the side of his neck, while the other grips his shoulder for stability. “You’re gonna have to move soon, baby. You’re killin’ me.”

I was feeling everything all at once. The pleasure from the previous orgasm, the pain from his cock stretching me out, and the embarrassment from not being able to move out of fear. “I can’t, Jack.”

I whisper into his neck, and he rubs my back.

“Do you wanna stop?” Somehow his comfort made all his asshole remarks disappear from my memory. “No, no I want to,” I shake my head. He whispers a quick “Ok…” into my ear and I shudder. His hands grasp onto my hips again, his thumbs digging into the crease between my thighs. Slowly, but surely he lifts my hips and my eyes squeeze shut while my jaw goes slack. Once i’m nearly lifted completely, he slowly sets me back down. I let out an animalistic moan, and he grunts in response. He repeats the process until the pain goes away, and all I feel now is the ongoing pleaser of his cock dragging in and out of my pussy. I pick up the pace on my own, letting him take a break from holding my weight.

“God, fuck- you’re taking it so well. Doing so good f’me.” His words are slurring now, and I can barely think. My brain is foggy, and i’m so hungry for more I don’t even think I can remember anything from before 20 minutes ago.

“Mmph- so good jack. Jesus.” I ride him faster and harder creating more of a pressure build.

“Yeah? What do you want? Tell me what you want.” He breathes out.

“I wanna- mmm… I wanna suck your cock. And I- want you to- fuck me. Wrap your hands around my throat. Mmph- I want you to fuck me.” I’ve never showed this much desperation, especially for a man. In fact, knowing myself, I would never.

“Come on, let me look at you.” He lifts my head up from his shoulder and holds the back of my neck with his big hand, the other resting on my thigh. The eye contact sends me over, he just looks so…domestic like this. His mouth parted and his hair messy, his eyes sleepy and tired.

“Oh my god, I’m gonna- I’m gonna fucking cum.”

I rock my hips faster, chasing my high.

“That’s it, you got it. Cum on my cock. Go head.”

The waves rush over me as I let go of the knot tied in my belly. I have never cum like this in my life. Actually, a guy has never made me cum. I shudder, and my thighs shake as I feel him release with me. He leans forward, kissing from the valley of my breasts up to my neck. “You’re perfect. You know that?” He speaks in between pecks. “I’ve got an idea.” I smile to myself panting and trying to catch my breath. Jack leans back into the seat, and I lift my hips for the final time, letting his shaft go from between my legs.

“So, your place or mine?” He grins at me and expects a real, actual response. I smack his chest lightly and chuckle,

~jack abbot x OC~

summary: Quinn Robinavitch has a troubling past. She can’t even make sense of of it herself. Being a 26 year old med student working with her dad, makes it just as hard. And then she meets Dr. Abbot. the handsome, edgy, attending physician, and her whole world unravels beneath her. Trying to be a top notch med student, he just might turn out to be her biggest problem.

content warnings: swearing, flirting, age gap, mid 20s/early 50s, trauma, bullying, mommy issues, smut, phone sex, mutual masturbation, sending nudes, dirty talk

authors notes: this is my first fic im actually putting out cuz I was really bored and I have an obsession but I hope you like it cuz I started writing this at 4:00 a.m. when I was supposed to be sound asleep getting beauty rest! Also this first chapter is long and i’m so sorry but like she needs plot guysss

word count:4k

chapter 1

I don’t necessarily remember what it was that shifted in the air that morning. Maybe it was the way I walked through the doors acting like my heart wasn’t beating outside of my chest. Maybe it was the way everybody greeted me with open arms, and warm smiles that felt like a childhood kiss, right smack-dab in the middle of my forehead. It could’ve been the fact that while I heard people screaming, crying, and begging to be helped— I was living my bestest life getting smothered with love as the golden child. “Welcome home!” They said. Or maybe it was because as I hugged my own flesh and blood, my father, Dr. Robby, I made eye contact with the most vigorous looking man, possibly ever. He looked familiar, but I couldn’t remember his name. I knew it before, before I went away to that god awful school. Jesus Christ it was terrible, and that’s all I knew. That’s all I thought about. Still, even as a 26 year old—twelve years later, the only thing I learned was how mean kids could be. They teased me, pulled my air, tripped my feet, pounded on the bathroom stall while I was going to the bathroom. Couldn’t even go pee without getting absolutely tormented.

My feet hit the ground each time with a purpose, and I was walking with determination. Possibly for the first time ever in my life. I wasn’t necessarily, like, composed…But I definitely felt, confident? For someone who doesn’t have a car, or any form of transportation for that matter, I sure feel like I got it goin’ for myself. I am more confident though. Which is something that I have always lacked. I was never really…ugly? But everyone goes through that awkward, middle school, “growing into yourself”, kind of phase. Unfortunately for me, I feel like I just got over it like last year. But my face is sharper, and my body finally got its curves. My lips got fuller, and my eyebrows aren’t doing that weird thing anymore. My legs are longer, with just enough meat on them to make it look like I have an ass. And finally, I got boobs, it’s funny how the body works. So yes, confident is the right word.

My dress was flowy and white with navy blue flowers on it. Orchids, I think. It was short enough that it hit my mid thigh, thank god I was wearing shorts underneath. My feet were wrapped in wedge-sandals, with my toes painted a sheer shade of pink. The shoes were actually pretty comfortable, coming from someone who just walked like 3 miles to get where I wanted to be.

But of course, as I see the front doors to the hospital, my heart sinks, and races, and loops. Deep breaths don’t seem to help me anymore, seeing as I used all of them when I was in school. “Fuck.” I whisper under my breath. For some odd reason, even in all this panic, my feet just never stop moving. It’s almost like i’m not controlling myself. Like there’s this little guy in my head working a control system, with joy sticks, and buttons, and he’s had enough of my bullshit cowardliness. The doors actually look scarier up close, than from far away. I can only imagine why they’d look like if you were dying. I grip the strap of my purse, slung over my shoulder, and walk in. The funny thing is, is that when I pictured myself walking in I thought i’d be met with more…comfort. I, in fact, was not. I understand this is an ED but god, if you’re in here you’re either crying, or in pain. Even if you work here. I walk past about a million sick, or hurt people before i’m face to face with the registration window. I clear my throat, “Hi, uh, i’m here to see my dad.”

The lady looks up from her computer, clearly sick of her life right now. “We’ll have to see if he was called back yet, what’s his name?”

“Oh, no, my dad works here.” I smile gently, hoping for a little warmth on her side. My wish came true, she smiles. “Really? What’s his name?”

“Micheal Robinavitch.”

“You’re Robby’s kid? I would’ve never guessed. Now that I’m looking at you, you really do look like his spawn.” She laughs to herself, “I’m Lupe.”

I show her my teeth now, gums and all. “I’m Quinn.” We talk about why i’m even here in the first place, and I tell her that i’m a student doctor, transferring from California. She tells me it’s hell here, and I didn’t even have to ask. But she also tells me it’s worth it, to help people, and feel needed. I couldn’t agree more. “This is just insane to me. Robby never mentioned having a daughter. A gorgeous one, for that matter. You know…my son, he’s single!” I laugh at her attempt to try and set me up with her son.

“That’s possibly very sweet of you Lupe, but I kind of like the comfort of my peace and quiet.”

She rolls her eyes and grins, “Eh, it was worth a shot.” Dating isn’t something I think about often, or at all for that matter. I mean, i’ve had boyfriends in the past, they were just…a lot. Like, really overbearing. I can count on one hand how many times i’ve dated a guy, and wanted to actually be with him. “I’ll let a nurse know you’re here, they’ll bring you back. Think your dad might be busy.” She picks up the dark gray phone sitting on her left and dials a number. She doesn’t say much, just that i’m Robby’s kid, and i’m here waiting in chairs. Then she hangs up and points me to two other terrifying doors. Great. “You can head straight through those doors, honey.”

“Thank you so much, It was great to meet you.”

I smile, making my way to the doors. “Of course, sweetie, if you need anything at all, just come find me.” She was possibly the nicest person i’ve met in Pittsburgh so far. Which, says a lot. My hand presses against one of the metal panels on one of the doors. Instantly hearing the ringing of machines, and the beeping of heart monitors. I’ll never get over that hospital smell. Even though I’ve been working around them my entire life. I used to come here with my dad a lot when I was a kid. He would put me behind the nurses station and have them watch, it was great for the most part. Free nurturing care from women, other than my psychotic mother. I always had a favorite though. Her smile warms me like the sun each time I see her. She strides up to me, her arms out, ready to pounce. “Hi, Dana.” She hugs me like she used to, one hand on the back of my head, pulling me into the crook of her shoulder, and the other on the small of my back. “I’m so happy you’re home. We all are.” She steps back and grabs both of my hands. “Most of these people don’t even know who I am.” I giggle, because it’s true. All these doctors here are young, and new. None that I recognize. Not that I could, even if I tried. She takes and firm grip on my hands and flares my arms out into wings. “Let me get a good look at you.” She examines my face and my arms, my legs and my hair, i’m sure even she’s surprised I’ve got tits now. “You look fucking fantastic, Jesus.” She breathes out. It’s sad that a part of me feels like she’s lying to me to make me feel better. “Your dad is gonna be so happy to see you.”

“Where is he?”

“He’s working with a patient right now. He’ll be out soon. Why don’t you come sit down?”

Dana leads me through the crowded room until we whirl around behind the nurses station. She pulls out a chair and motions for me to sit. I plop down in the chair and exhale. “Ugh. You never know how much your feet hurt until you sit down.”

“You walk here?”

“Yeah, I mean, I don’t have a car or anything here. I don’t live very far maybe an hour walk.”

“You’re better than me. If I were you i’d risk taking the bus.” I honestly almost did. About half way my ankles started to ache, and my toes were getting suffocated. I saw the bus stop up ahead and thought about waiting, and paying the money. But then I remembered the time I took a bus when I was seventeen and then found out an hour the driver was on some kind of drug, or maybe he was high I can’t remember.

Dana introduced me to some other people. Some young, some old. All of their jaws dropped when they found out that I was the Dr. Robby’s Daughter. I didn’t think it was that insane, they had to have all assumed that he had kids. I shook hand after hand, and flashed smile, after smile, and laughed at stuff that wasn’t necessarily something I needed to laugh at. My prime specialty is no longer being a doctor, it is now making people feel special. “There’s my little girl.” I hear from behind me, along with a pair of footsteps I recognized from when I was a kid. “Hi, dad.” I turn around and smile, wrapping my arms around his neck and standing on my tippy toes. Even wearing heels my dad seemed like he was the tallest person ever. He wraps his forearms around my back and lifts me off the ground, momentarily. I close my eyes and breathe in his smell. His smell wasn’t ike cologne or anything artificial, it was his, and it was the closest thing I had left from home. He sets me back down and I feel him lightly hunching over, accommodated my height. I open my eyes back up to the bright lights of the hospital, and look around. I look around to see all the people running around trying to gather their things needed, gurneys being passed onto doctors, people stressed out, and a man. He looks at me from across the room and for some reason it makes my heart falter. His eyes are dark and heavy and his hair doesn’t take away from the fact. Then, he grins. What the fuck? Have I met this guy, like, ever? I sure as hell don’t recognize him. Dad releases me from his grip and the air fills my lungs again. “What do you think? You ready to start tomorrow?” He looks around and acts like it’s gonna be the time of my life. “Uhm yea, I think so.” I was scared shitless actually. You’d be surprised how many fights I almost got in as a student in California, and it’s literally a fact that you’re supposed to be happy if you live there. Dad talks my ear off about scheduling, and my new apartment, he tells me stories about patients he’s had within the last two months that went badly. He tells me not to worry, that everything would be fine. He tells me-

“Who is this?” I hear a voice behind me. It’s low and husky. My head whips around to see the same man I locked eyes with. I have nothing to say, it’s weird. A normal person would say their name, and hold their hand out ready to greet with a smile. But apparently i’m still 6 and daddy still has to introduce me to people. “Jack! This is my daughter, Quinn. She’s a student doctor, transferring.”

“Well, Quinn, it’s nice to meet you. I’m Dr. Abbot.”

He reaches his hand out for me to shake, and I just sit there. Am I fucking idiot? What am I doing? I’m not even smiling or showing any hospitality at all, i’m just gawking at him like he’s a freak. Dad nudges my back so I snap back into reality. My eyes flicker down to his hand and I reach out to hold it. I knew something embarrassing was bound to happen today.

He shakes my hand and lets go, thank god, I don’t think I’ve been breathing. “What are you specializing in?” He asks, the corners of his mouth turning up. I think he can sense that i’m a nervous wreck. “Emergency Medicine.” I smile.

Sometime in between me shaking Dr. Abbots hand and me telling him what I was specializing in, dad got called back in to work on a patient. He leans over the counter facing me, “So, you always come into work dressed like that?” He looks me up and down, which causes me to look myself up and down. “Oh- what? No, no! I was just- I haven’t seen everyone in forever. I didn’t wanna come back looking like I’m your average 26 year old that hasn’t been able to manage my spendings.

“Relax. I like it.” He nonchalantly says and looks down at his papers and starts flipping through them. My face heated up into a bright red. From all the compliments I got today, this one was gonna stick. I lean on the counter, diagonal from him on the other side of the nurses station. Keeping my eyes forward was a forced feeling. He was really nice to look at, even though I just met this guy like 3 minutes ago. I glance at him and open my mouth to say something, but he beats me to the punch. “You as fierce as your dad?”

“Dangerously so.” I furrow my eyebrows and make a sarcastic face.

“Dangerous works for me—as long as you can keep up.” He smirks, like he’s making fun of me.

“You don’t think I can?”

“No. I know you can. I just-“

“Quinn! Come here, come, come! I want you to meet somebody!” Dana cuts in just as Dr. Abbot was about to finish his sentence. “Okay, just a second. What were you gonna-“ I turned my head for like 3 seconds and he just vanished. Stepping away from the counter, I push my body back and walk towards Dana. She’s standing with a nice old man dressed in a hospital gown.

“Hi, I’m Quinn. It’s so nice to meet you.”

My hand is officially worn out from all the hand-shaking.

Over the course of the day I would catch Dr. Abbot staring, and I stared back. Guilty. Call me crazy but I wanted him to look at me the way he did. Like I did something insane, and criminal. And I looked at him like he knew it. On occasion I’d brush past him in tight spaces, and we’d get looped into the same conversations, just not with each other. And his eyes burned into the sides of my head as I pretended not to see him, and then I went home as if nothing even happened.

“Home sweet home.” I sigh and throw my keys on the kitchen table. My feet were killing me and all I wanted to do since, like yesterday, was shower. I limp across my living room into the bathroom and settle my stomach on the bathroom counter, leaning. The harshness of the stone top digging into my belly, but I can’t care, I cannot hold up my own weight right now. Who knew how unfit I was? I look at myself in the mirror, huffing, before pushing my weight off the counter. My feet stumble towards the shower, groaning as I crouch and sit on the side of the tub. I turn the water to hot, boiling hot. Hot water will get these knots out of my shoulders, and the obnoxious pain out of my poor feet.

I slip out of the dress I was wearing and take off all my jewelry. My fingers run over my face as the mirror starts to fog up, I turn on the faucet to the sink and get my face wash from the cabinet. The soap seeps into every crack and crevice of my face, and it doesn’t skip a beat. I wash off today’s stress, and the idea that i’ve made an ass of myself once too many time. My head dips down into the water, it’s warm. It’s nice. I splash it all over my face until all the soap washes away and I feel clean. My eyes trace my naked body, all the way up to my face— “Fuck!” All I ever see is her face. Whenever I look at mine, at least. That’s why I never understand why people say I look like my dad. Because if they don’t see her…why do I have to? The image of my mom’s face is engraved into my own and I hate it. My face is sharper but it’s hers. I have the face of a psychopath who tried to—

Wait when was the last time I even took my medication? I reach into the wooden cabinet and grab the little orange pill bottle. I grab 2.

1 2

I pop them in my mouth, an take a deep breath. “It’s okay, it’s okay, it’s okay.” My hands run back and forth, up and down over my face as I whisper to myself. After about 5 minutes, I get in the shower, and scrub off the feeling of my mother off my body.

My bed is the best thing i’ve experienced all day. My new white sheets and comforter enraptured me like I was new born baby, being swaddled. My hands were freezing from the abrupt change of temperature from the hot shower to my bedroom.

I’ve been scrolling on my phone for the past 30 minutes, eyes heavy, waiting to fall asleep. Just then I get a text. *buzz* I click on it.

Unknown: Hey, kiddo.

Q: Who is this?

Unknown: Jack

Q: Uhhhh

Unknown: Dr. Abbot???

Q: Oh

Why was he texting me? I didn’t even think he’d know how to use a phone. I stare off into space, the screen glow reflecting off my face in the dimly lit room. What do I say? Do I ask him what he wants? Why he’s texting me so late?

*buzz*

Abbot: You there?

My heart drops and I nearly chuck my phone across the room.

Q: Yeah, how’d you get my number?

Abbot: Dana gave it to me. I told her I was gonna need it if you were gonna be shadowing me.

My fingers move at lighting speed.

Q: Sooo why are you texting so late?”

Abbot: We didn’t finish our conversation earlier.

My brows furrow and my lips purse. He means the conversation where he tried butchering my ability to stay in line with others and keep and steady pace. I’m gonna be a dick, who gives a shit? it’s over the phone.

Q: Ohhh right, you were telling me I wouldn’t be able to keep up. Anyways, continue.

Abbot: I never said that, you didn’t let me finish. I think you’ll be able to keep up.

Q: Okay, so then what were you gonna say?

Abbot: I just don’t know if I’ll be able to.

Huh? I sit up in bed and my face contorts into something more than confused. What does he mean?

Q: What?

Abbot: You’re a distraction, Quinn.

I’m not stupid, I know what he means. But, do I? I could be blowing this way out of proportion, and not even realize it and could end up looking like a total creep.

Q: How?

He doesn’t respond for a good 2 minutes. And when he does my chest tightens.

Abbot: You wanna know?

I swallow the fear dripping down my throat, and I can almost hear it. *gulp*

Q: Yes

I sent it. I sent it and there’s no going back. At this point in my life I should be used to sending risky texts back and forth, a communication with forgettable banter. But i’m not. I put my phone face down, and waited.

*buzz* “Fuck.”

Abbot: *image*

Holy shit. I knew what I was getting myself into. But god, now that I’m actually in it. It doesn’t feel real. The image felt illegal. It was of his lap, his knees bent and parted, and his bulge. His hand resting directly next to it, like he was dying to relieve himself. God, he has nice hands. My breathing got heavier as the seconds passed and I was contemplating what I should do. Do I send one back? If not, what do I say? Do I just ignore it. I stare at the picture, the tension building between my legs. I squeeze my thighs to ease the built up pressure. I think for a second, if he can do it, why can’t I? I quickly remove my oversized shirt, only left in my bra and panties. My phone feels heavy in my hands as I raise it above my chest, the camera getting a good view of my breasts. Fuck it. I snap the picture. And send it.

*buzz* *buzz* *buzz*

*Abbot is calling*

I smile to myself. I’m already on a streak, what’s the harm? I pick up the phone, “Hello?”

“Quinn?” His voice is just as dark as it was when I first met him.

“Yeah?” I bite my lip, trying not to whine at the sound of his voice right there.

“What are you doing right now?” He huffs.

I pause, “What do you want me to do?”

My cheeks are already bright red, my body temperature is at like a thousand degrees, and my adrenaline could not be higher.

“Are you wearing panties?”

“Yes.”

“Take them off.”

I do as he says like i’m his fucking lap dog. I set the phone beside my head and reach down to my thighs sliding the underwear, down to my ankles, off my feet. He must hear all the shuffling around because he says-

“How bad do you want this?”

“Bad enough.”

I part my knees and slide a hand between my legs, the other resting on my inner thigh. The pads of my fingertips meet my clit, and I start making slow circles as he talks.

“You touching yourself right now?”

“Yeah.” It came out breathy. My brain’s already foggy, I haven’t even gotten close to cumming yet. “Are you?” I ask.

“What do you think?” Smart ass. I don’t even care right now, all I can think about is his voice, and his body, the way I know the answer by what I hear on the other side of the phone. He moans, low into the phone and that caused me to move my fingers faster.

“What are you thinking about, Quinn?” His voice trails off into a soft whine and I feel myself literally about to fall over the edge. I could cum right there. But I won’t. “You. Your body. Your cock.” The way I say it is almost out of body. It’s almost animalistic how open i’m being about it. Because it was true, I was thinking about him fucking me until I couldn’t remember my own name. I let out a moan, the first moan i’ve ever meant. It was whiny and desperate, and I needed more. A vision pops in my head of him. Stroking his cock over and over again, getting off to the thought of doing whatever he wanted to me. I hum and my eyebrows knit together with one fell swoop. He’s letting out strained groans, one after the other, like he’s fighting for his life. I slide a finger down deeper into myself, pushing it in. “Augh- fuck- Jack!”

“Shit, baby, you’re gonna kill me. You fucking yourself?”

I let out another moan, and try and speak for myself, “Uh-huh” it trails off into god knows where. “Yeah? You wish it was my cock?” He breathes out, and I add another finger.

“Fuck- yes.” I take my hand away from my thigh, and grip the head board behind me. I pump my fingers in and out listening to his grunting and moaning on the other side of the phone. I think the danger is what I love most about it. My mouth hangs open for so long I can feel the drool pooling out, god I want to fuck him to bad.

Desperate for more friction, I remove myself from the position i’m in, sitting up on my knees. I position myself over my own hand, slowly entering my fingers once again. The friction my fingers were building, between the build up of pressure from my clit harshly rubbing against the harsh base of my wrist, sends me into a complete spiral, how the fuck was he doing this?

He whines on the other side, I smile to myself as I ride my fingers. I didn’t take him for a whiner.

“Fuck, I’m gonna come, Daddy- fuck.”

“Agh- shit, baby. Say that again.”

I whine and bite my lip, grinding harder, going faster. “Daddy!” The tension builds in my lower belly and my brain leaves my head, all I can think about is how i’m cock-drunk for someone I don’t even have. Who isn’t even mine.

“Cum. Come on, cum for me baby.”

I hear him stroke faster, and faster, and that’s when I come undone. I fall forward, face planting into my comforter. My breathing is ragged and unsteady and heart rate could never be matched.

I look next to me at my phone. Silence.

“You think you’re gonna be able to keep up now?” He finally says, and I grin to myself.

And then I remember,

what the fuck am I gonna do tomorrow?