#tom koracick

[elitehanitje]

"AJ, I'm not your daddy." - Christian Cage

[privatehousesanatomy]

this might be controversial but stay with me on this one.

tom koracick is just a happier, non crippled version of greg house. they even look alike.

[eddysocs]

Together, Whatever Comes — Tom Koracick x OC

Summary: Sophie has been experiencing a lot of brain fog lately, and it’s very much not like her. When Tom takes notice, he thinks he has the answer.

Word Count: 682

Warnings: Talk of pregnancy

Tom knew his wife, Sophie, better than anyone else. He could tell when she was thriving in her element, when she was the brilliant pediatric surgeon who commanded a room with her precision, charm and kindness. But lately, something was off, and it didn’t sit well with him.

He noticed it first in small things, like the way she’d leave her coffee mug in random places, her patient charts abandoned halfway through her notes, and in moments when he’d catch her staring into space in the middle of a conversation. It was all so unlike her, and it was beginning to worry him.

“Soph,” he broached softly, finding her in the on call room, where she was sitting on the edge of the bed, absentmindedly flipping through a medical journal without really reading it.

She looked up, startled out of her thoughts. “Tom, hey. I didn’t hear you come in.”

He sat beside her, gently taking the journal from her hands and setting it aside. “Now hear me out,” he started. “You’ve been all over the place lately, and it’s not like you. Not going to lie, it’s kind of scaring me a little,” he added with a nervous chuckle, always trying to keep things light.

Sophie sighed, leaning into his side. “I know. I don’t know what’s wrong with me. I just can’t seem to focus. It’s like my brain is working on a different frequency.”

Tom gently rubbed her back, his brow furrowed with concern for her. “When’s the last time you took a break? I mean a real break, not just five minutes between surgeries.”

“I don’t even remember,” she admitted with a small, tired laugh. “But this feels different, Tom. I’m leaving things halfway done, zoning out. That’s not me.”

“No, it’s not,” he agreed, thinking on it a moment. Then, something occurred to him —a thought that gave him pause. “Sophie…when’s the last time you, uh, had your period?”

She blinked at him, the question catching her off guard. “What? I—” She frowned, mentally counting the days, and then her eyes widened. “Oh my God, Tom, I… I’m late.”

He grinned, the worry in his eyes shifting to something warmer, more hopeful. “You might be pregnant.”

Sophie’s hand flew to her mouth as she stared at him, her heart racing. “Pregnant? But… we weren’t even trying.”

“I know,” he said, taking her hands in his, his voice losing its usual snarky tone in favor of gentle reassurance. “But we weren’t exactly not trying, either,” he quipped, with a playful wink.

Her mind raced as she processed the possibility. They had talked about starting a family, but it had always been more of a “someday” conversation. And yet, now that the possibility was real, she realized how much she wanted it, how much she wanted this next step with him.

“What if I am,” she whispered, her voice trembling slightly. It was part nerves, part excitement, though at the moment neither one was quite winning out over the other.

“Then I have to get to baby proofing the house," Tom joked.

“They’re not going to come out crawling,” she ribbed back at him. “I hardly think that’s our highest priority.”

“With my brains and your determination, they just might.”

At that, the two of them shared a laugh, finally able to feel like themselves again for a moment, and not just scared prospective parents.

"I love you, Tom," Sophie said with such tenderness that it felt like the first time she’d said it to him all over again.

“I love you too,” he whispered into her hair, kissing the side of her head. “Tonight, let’s go home, take a test, and find out for sure. Whatever the result, we’ve got this.”

Sophie nodded, a smile finally breaking through as the joy settled in. As they left the hospital hand in hand that night, Sophie felt the weight of the past few weeks lift off her shoulders. They were stepping into this new chapter of their lives together. And she couldn’t wait to see what the future held.

For @sicktember

Forever Tag: @baubeautyandthegeek, @kmc1989, @curious-kittens-ocs, @fanficanatic-tw, @gcthvile, @kenjioharashotspot, @immyowndefender

[romancemedia]

I love that little joke on Grey’s Anatomy where everyone always hopes the patient is Bono.

[detective-jane-rizzoli]

[emma-m-black]

Doctor White - Chapter Seven

Tom Koracick x OC (FanFiction)

This is a super rough draft of a Tom Koracick x OC story I've had in my head. I got a ton of chapters done, but then kind of his a block at a cliff hanger and I figure, perhaps if I post it, maybe I can figure out what to do next.

Rating is probably close to PG, don't think there is any spicey bits, pretty tame.

Read: Chapter One, Chapter Two, Chapter Three, Chapter Four, Chapter Five, Chapter Six,

Chapter Seven

“I think that’s everything,” Elizabeth said, her voice tinged with satisfaction as she surveyed the research room. The newly assembled space gleamed under the fluorescent lights, filled with pristine equipment and carefully organized supplies. The faint smell of new plastic and paper lingered, mingling with the excitement of progress. Her lips curled into a smile, proud of what they’d accomplished so far.

“Good, because I’m withering away here.” Tom’s exaggerated tone drew her attention, and she turned just in time to catch his dramatic tap against his wristwatch. “You can fuss over the microscope tomorrow. Right now, however, we have reservations at my favourite Italian restaurant, so let’s go.”

Elizabeth clasped her hands in front of her chest, feigning innocence as she faced him. “But what if we put the whiteboard by the window? And then moved the desk against this one to make an ‘L’ shape? It’d maximize—”

Her words were abruptly silenced by Tom’s finger pressing lightly against her lips. “Italian. Reservations. Ricotta. Gelato.” His tone brooked no argument as he removed his finger, an impish grin spreading across his face.

Elizabeth let out a mock groan of defeat, reaching for her purse draped over the back of an office chair. “Fine.”

Tom’s eyes scanned her up and down, his lips quirking in amusement. “Do you own any other clothes?”

She glanced down at her mustard-colored sweater, the same one she’d worn the week before. “Hey, I love this sweater!” Her tone was defiant as she smoothed a hand over the soft knit. “Besides, how was I supposed to know you were going to kidnap me for dinner?”

“Always assume I will kidnap you,” Tom quipped, waving her off dismissively. “Fancy places and good food are kind of my thing.”

Elizabeth raised an eyebrow. “Good to know. Is that why you’re always dressed like you’re heading to a board meeting?”

“Well, I did have a meeting,” Tom replied, straightening his dark blue suit jacket as if to emphasize the point.

“Receiving medical equipment isn’t a meeting,” she countered, slinging her purse over her shoulder.

“You say potato, I say … well, potato too. But you get my point.”

Elizabeth chuckled, shaking her head. “Fine, lead the way.”

Tom grinned and offered her his arm, his elbow bent at an exaggerated angle. “Shall we?”

With a smirk, Elizabeth looped her arm through his, and they strolled out of the research room together. The halls were quiet this late, their footsteps echoing softly as they made their way to the elevator. Inside, Tom reached for the main floor button, but before the doors could close, a hand shot through the gap.

“Doctor White. Doctor Koracick,” Owen greeted as he stepped inside, his eyes flicking to where Elizabeth’s arm was still tucked through Tom’s. His jaw tightened almost imperceptibly as he shoved his hands into the pockets of his leather jacket. “A few of us are heading for a drink. Would you two care to join?”

Elizabeth didn’t miss the strain in Owen’s voice as he addressed Tom. It was no secret that Owen was not a fan of his. Anytime Tom’s name came up, Owen either changed the subject or found an excuse to leave the room.

“We have dinner plans,” Tom replied smoothly, his tone polite but firm.

“Sorry, Owen,” Elizabeth added, her voice more chipper, as she offered him an apologetic smile. “Maybe next time. Technically, I still owe you that drink.”

The elevator doors opened, and Tom and Elizabeth stepped out, only to find Amelia waiting on the other side.

“Goodnight, Doctor Shepherd,” Elizabeth greeted, her tone cheerful as she and Tom walked past.

“They do look cute together,” Amelia remarked, as Owen moved to stand beside her.

Owen’s silence spoke volumes.

Outside, the cool night air greeted them, carrying with it the faint scent of rain on the asphalt. Tom chuckled as they made their way to his car. “You know Ginger likes you, right?”

Elizabeth laughed, shaking her head. “No, he doesn’t. He’s just being friendly. Not everything is about sex, Tom.”

“Everything is about sex,” he countered with a playful grin. “You’re naïve to think otherwise. Which is why I’m telling you right now—I don’t give up easily in a fight.”

Elizabeth patted his arm, her laughter light but genuine. “Oh, I know. But there is no fight because, as I’ve told you a hundred times, I don’t date coworkers.”

Tom guided her to the passenger side of his car and opened the door with a flourish. “After you,” he said, helping her in with a gentlemanly air before shutting the door and walking around to the driver’s side.

Elizabeth ran her hands over the smooth leather seat as he climbed in. “Even your car is pretentious,” she teased, her tone laced with mock disdain.

“You love it,” Tom shot back, his grin widening. “Don’t lie.”

Turning in her seat, Elizabeth looked at Tom with a smile that softened her features. “I do. I really do.”

The ride to the restaurant passed in comfortable silence, the soft strains of jazz filtering through Tom’s car speakers. Outside, the city lights glimmered like stars reflected on asphalt rivers, the occasional honk of a horn breaking the peace. When they arrived, Tom handed off his keys to the valet with an easy confidence before extending his arm to escort Elizabeth inside.

“Doctor Koracick, this way,” the hostess greeted warmly as they entered, her eyes flicking briefly between the two of them with a knowing smile.

The table Tom had reserved was near a large window overlooking the water, where the moonlight rippled across the surface like liquid silver. He pulled out a chair for Elizabeth with a flourish, gesturing for her to sit. A bucket of ice held a bottle of champagne already waiting at the table, its surface beaded with condensation. Tom made quick work of popping the cork, the sound sharp yet celebratory in the quiet din of the restaurant.

Pouring them each a glass, he raised his own. “To you, Elizabeth, and that beautiful, sexy brain of yours.”

Elizabeth laughed softly, the warmth of the compliment clear in the slight blush that colored her cheeks. She raised her glass; the rim catching the light. “To you, Tom, for having faith in me. For being someone I can trust.”

As their glasses met with a soft clink, Elizabeth’s thoughts drifted briefly to their first lunch together. She remembered the subtle pressure of his hand on hers, the way his thumb had traced small, soothing circles. It was such a simple gesture, but one that had felt grounding—safe.

After taking a sip, Elizabeth set her glass down and gazed out the window, her fingers interlaced on the table. Her voice was steady, though her words carried a distant ache. “My attending once brought me along to a conference. I think she was trying to curry favor with my father—not that it mattered since he’d already cut me off. I couldn’t sleep that night, so I went down to the bar for a coffee. I didn’t even think about how I looked—just shorts, a camisole, and a hotel bathrobe. I assumed the bar would be empty at that hour.”

The arrival of the server interrupted her, and she turned just enough to catch Tom’s eyes.

“Give us a minute,” Tom said, his tone firm but polite. The server nodded and left them alone again.

Elizabeth exhaled shakily, her gaze returning to the rippling water outside. “There was a table of guys. Drunk, loud. I ignored them and ordered my coffee, but one of them came over. The bartender made him back off, and I decided to head back to my room. I didn’t make it.” Her voice trembled slightly. “Paul Stadler followed me. By the time security found me, he’d already shoved me against the wall and was trying to rip off my robe. The bartender... he must’ve noticed something was wrong and sent security. But later, Paul apologized, told me I’d asked for it. That if I pressed charges, no one would believe me. And I... I believed him.”

Tom reached across the table, clasping her hands gently in his. His voice was low, almost reverent. “Elizabeth.”

She gave a bitter smile, tears glistening in her eyes but refusing to fall. “There it is. My black mark. The thing I’ll always wonder about. Could I have done something differently? Was it my fault? That moment... it colors everything.”

Tom’s grip on her hands tightened ever so slightly, anchoring her. “You’re not alone in that shadow. I had a wife. A son. David. He was ten. One day, just like any other, he was at baseball and he, he got hit in the head with a baseball bat.” His voice cracked, but he pressed on. “He died. And I’ll always wonder... if I’d gotten to the hospital sooner, if I could’ve saved him.”

“Tom,” Elizabeth murmured, her heart aching at the vulnerability etched across his face.

“You’re not the only broken one,” he said quietly. “Maybe we can be broken together.”

Elizabeth slipped one hand free, raising her champagne glass. “To continuing on.”

Tom followed suit, clinking his glass against hers before taking a sip. He kept his other hand on hers, a silent reminder that she wasn’t alone.

As the server returned, Elizabeth waved him over. “Let’s eat. I’m starving.”

Dinner passed in a blur of laughter, shared stories, and the occasional gentle teasing. By the time they finished, the restaurant staff was politely urging them to leave, their table one of the last occupied. Outside, the night air was crisp, biting at Elizabeth’s cheeks as she wrapped her arms around herself.

“Thanks for tonight, Tom,” she said, her breath visible in the cold.

Without a word, Tom shrugged off his jacket, taking her purse from her shoulder before draping the jacket around her. He adjusted the lapels, pulling them close to shield her from the chill, his fingers brushing her skin in the process. The gesture brought them impossibly close, their breaths mingling in the space between.

Elizabeth tilted her head up, her lashes casting shadows over her cheeks as her gaze flitted between his eyes and his lips. “Tom...”

“Elizabeth,” he began, his voice barely above a whisper. But the moment shattered as the deafening roar of an engine pierced the night.

Everything happened in a blur. One second, Elizabeth was standing with Tom; the next, she was on the ground beside him, ears ringing and heart pounding. A car had crashed into the valet station, Tom’s own vehicle now crumpled against a brick retaining wall.

Dazed, Elizabeth scrambled to her feet, her instincts kicking in as she rushed toward the wreckage. She yanked at the driver’s side door, but it barely budged. Tom appeared beside her, his face pale but focused, her purse still slung over his shoulder.

“On three,” he instructed, gripping the edge of the door.

Together, they heaved, the metal groaning as it gave way just enough for Elizabeth to lean inside. The valet driver was slumped against the airbag, unconscious.

“Pulse is thready,” Elizabeth reported, her voice sharp with urgency. She leaned further in, checking for other injuries. “Sir, can you hear me?”

Tom was already on the phone, relaying her assessment to emergency services. Within minutes, paramedics arrived, their flashing lights cutting through the dark. With their help, Tom assisted in loading the injured man into the ambulance, with Elizabeth using her hand to keep the man from bleeding out.

Chapter Eight

[shes-a-badkid]

I’m rewatching some old Grey’s Anatomy episodes and I love how hard they tried to make us hate Tom Koracick. Like he’s sassy and can be an ass, but he also had to deal with his wife having a miscarriage and his ten year old son dying because of a freak accident where a baseball hit him just so in the head and killed him- and so not only is he heartbroken and grieving but imagine the guilt he feels being a brain surgeon and not being able to save his son. Like I’d be an asshole too. And then they have the audacity to like compare him to fucking Owen?! Like Owen sucks

[naylasavannah]

Nayla Savannah - Koracick

you been on my mind like Tom Koracick

[forbescaroline]

FORBESCAROLINE'S 9K CELEBRATION TOP 20 GREY'S ANATOMY SHIPS (as voted by my followers) #19. Tom Koracick and Teddy Altman You make me laugh. You make me feel good. You make me feel like my life isn’t completely spinning out of control.

[itslokkkkiiii]

Hot take

Tom Koracick is kind, loving, and underrated. He’s just got a hard outside shell because of his past.

[newton8]

Owen is mad at Teddy because IT IS NOT THE FIRST TIME

[kawipastell1928]

THIS!!!!

[puffle-fuzz]

Tom’s expression gives me the same energy an orange cat would give off.

[eddysocs]

Speak My Language — Tom Koracick x OC

Summary: Tom and Sophie express the five love languages to one another.

Word Count: 901

Warnings: None, pure fluff

1. Words of Affirmation

"What are you reading," Tom asked, peeping over Sophie's shoulder as she perused an article on her laptop.

"An analysis of the so called 'Five Love Languages'. The original text itself is reductive. Surely these are five ways people can express love, but they’re not the be all end all the author claims them to be."

Tom grinned. He liked this side of her. The skeptic hidden under the sunshine persona she pushes so hard in the peds ward. "I agree," he punctuated with a kiss to the side of her head. "Five is such a small number. Ten maybe, but five? I don’t buy it."

Sophie chuckled and shut her laptop, shaking her head. "Tom, you ridiculous man. I love you."

"In more than ten ways?"

"In twenty," she replied, not missing a beat.

2. Acts of Service

It had been a long day. And a tough one at that. Sophie checked her watch. Shit, it was later than she thought. She gave Tom a call.

"You still here? I know I said I’d make dinner…"

"Already taken care of. The best Chinese takeout money can buy, a selection of movies for your perusal when you get home and one free cuddle session."

"Tom," Sophie practically sighed. She was still amazed at how thoughtful he could be sometimes.

"Bailey told me you had a difficult case and I thought you might want to take your mind off of it for the night. Maybe finish off that love language article you were reading. Whatever you want."

"Thank you. I’ll be home soon. I’m just leaving."

3. Receiving Gifts

"Dr. Kendall, I have something for you," one of her nurses told her, having finally caught up with her.

Sophie regarded the woman curiously. Had she forgotten some paperwork somewhere? Lost a patient chart? But the object she held in her hand wasn’t paper at all, but a six inch, flat, rectangular box. Sophie accepted the mysterious item from her hesitantly.

"Oh, and a note," she added, reaching into her pocket and taking out the folded up paper that accompanied her strange gift.

"…Thank you," Sophie replied, as graciously as she could amongst the confusion. Before she had time to think up any follow up questions, the nurse was already halfway down the hall, and Sophie was left with the box, and the note. She opened the box first. Inside, it contained a pen, bright purple, no doubt with dark purple ink within. Sophie smiled, sat the box on the nearby supply cart and unfolded the note to read.

I remember you saying your favorite pen ran out of ink, so I rush ordered another. — Tom

4. Quality Time

The rain had just cleared and it was Sophie's favorite time to go outside and clear her head, and since she had a moment, she did just that. Her feet led her to her favorite bench, just outside of Grey Sloan's main entrance. Yet she didn’t expect to find Tom already occupying half of the seat.

"Knew you’d be out here," he greeted with a sly smile. He was really starting to know her almost better than she knew herself these days. She sat next to him wordlessly, and let out a weary but contented sigh. She’d been on her feet for hours, but sitting here with Tom was a nice release from her busy day.

It was a mere fifteen minutes before she was needed back inside once again, but Tom had stayed by her side in silence the whole time, his arm thrown around the back of the bench, letting her lean into him if she liked. And she did. Her body was aching for her to stay still, just hold out a few more seconds before tearing herself away from Tom, but duty called. Still, for the rest of the day, she’d mentally be sitting on that bench with him, soaking up the smell after the rain.

5. Physical Touch

Sophie giggled when Tom came up behind her and whispered in her ear. His hot breath warmed her neck and his arms slipped around her waist, causing tingles to shoot through her body. He rested his head on her shoulder and watched her cook for a moment. It wasn’t often enough that they got to enjoy a proper meal together.

"You stir," Sophie instructed, and Tom took the wooden spoon from her hand, leaving one arm around her as he stirred the sauce. Sophie busied herself with checking on the pasta —nearly ready now— and Tom placed a quick kiss on her cheek. He let her go when the time came to drain the noodles, and they stepped around each other skillfully as they finished the preparation.

They ate in relative quiet for a change, and Tom reached out for Sophie's hand across the table. He rubbed his thumb over her knuckles for a moment as they attempted to manage their spaghetti with one hand, a feat that got the better of them sooner rather than later.

After dinner, came another dance around the kitchen as they put dishes in the sink and the leftovers away in tupperware, every once in a while Tom brushing his hand across her lower back. And when they finally sat down on the couch together, all felt right in the world as Sophie ducked under Tom’s arm and scooted in close.

Forever Tag: @baubeautyandthegeek, @kmc1989, @curious-kittens-ocs, @fanficanatic-tw, @gcthvile, @kenjioharashotspot, @hyperdrivve

Sophie Kendall: @ghostsunderstoodmysoul

[ladydeath-vanserra]

imagine hating on Koracick when Owen Hunt is right there

[killjoygem]

Tom koracick has become my poor little meow meow btw. I could literally never hate him, I can only be somewhat disappointed in his actions. I simultaneously love him and think he deserves nothing bad, and want tragedies to befall him just so I can see him being vulnerable