#will I be in and out of the ER again because of stress? | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

mercvry-glow · 3 months ago

Text

a girls guide to shopping

parings. michael robinavitch x bratty!reader

summary. a shopping trip goes sideways after a teenager clocks your shit at a panty sale. thankfully your hot doctor boyfriend knows what's best.

warnings. age gap (robby early 50s, reader late 20s early 30s), reader gets punched, and passes out, hospital setting, robby is a little stressed and sassy but so is reader, pretty light overall, let me know if there's anything else!

notes. I love them your honor! sorry for not posting for a few days while i figured out these stories/dynamics. always feel free to request dynamics like these, I love them more than anything else! as always any and all feedback is appreciated!

wc. 1900+

Coming into the ER while you were supposed to be shopping was a total fucking downer. Once, the mall had been a magical place—a glittery, pretzel scented wonderland where you could lose hours drifting between candle shops and designer racks, sipping iced lattes and swatching lip gloss on the back of your hand like a civilized woman.

Now? Now it was the place where you got decked in the face by some teenage gremlin in low-rise jeans over a pair of lace panties.

And because you were a grown adult, you couldn’t even swing back.

Tragic.

You didn't even remember hitting the floor. Just the sharp, burning pop in your nose, the stars behind your eyes, and then—darkness. The paramedics told you you were out cold for maybe ninety seconds, but it was long enough to wake up under fluorescent lights, head pounding and crop top slightly askew.

“We got a female, LOC for approx one minute,” one of the EMTs was saying now as they wheeled your stretcher through the ER. “Vitals stable, GCS fifteen, alert and oriented, just... uh... kinda pissed.”

“That’s putting it lightly,” you muttered, clutching the melting bag of ice someone had tossed at your face like it could fix your whole life.

“Can you tell us your name again?” asked the other paramedic—young, blonde, and way too chipper for your taste.

“Yeah. It’s ‘I want a lawyer.’”

He snorted. “Okay, feisty’s good. You remember what happened?”

“I got my shit rocked by a seventeen-year-old with acrylics and rage issues over a five-dollar thong. And I swear to God, if I have to get my nose redone, someone’s getting sued. Possibly everyone!”

The paramedic just chuckled again and turned to the nurse approaching the stretcher. “We got a real diva on our hands.”

“Do not diminish me,” you snapped, even as you adjusted your messy bun and adjusted your once cute, now bloodied, jacket. “I am a victim of retail violence.”

The nurse—a tan-skinned, shorter woman with dark hair, and a clearly unbothered attitude—just gave you a once-over. “Put her in Bay 3. Maybe Dr. Robby can talk her down.”

You blinked. “Wait. Did you just say Robby?”

The paramedic raised an eyebrow. “You know him?”

Oh, you knew him.

You dated him.

Michael Robinovitch: broody, brilliant, perpetually annoyed trauma doc. Your boyfriend. Also, the last person on earth you wanted to see you laid out in a hospital bed with smeared lip gloss and a possible concussion.

You shot upright slightly—then immediately winced and laid back down.

“Please don’t tell him it’s me,” you whispered like it was a state secret. “Lie. Say I died. Switch my name with someone else’s. Say I’m contagious.”

The nurse smirked. “Yeah, he’s gonna love this.”

That was the moment you knew you were screwed.

The curtains around North-3 weren't soundproof, but you were trying to pretend they werer. You laid there with an ice pack balanced across your nose and a mild headache blooming behind your eyes. The ER smelled like bleach and overworked nurses, and you were pretty sure one of your press-on nails had popped off in the ambulance.

The nurse—Princess, according to her badge—was updating something on the computer, tapping the keys like she’d done this a thousand times. She had a chill vibe, low braid, cute scrubs. Honestly, you respected her.

“So, just to confirm,” she said without looking up, “you fainted in Victoria’s Secret?”

You sighed. “Technically, I passed out next to a panty display. Slightly more dignified.”

Princess grinned. “Right.”

“I had a head injury,” you added defensively. “And that girl came flying at me like I personally wronged her.”

“You’re lucky you didn’t get trampled.”

“Thank you for your concern,” you said, deadpan. “I didn’t get to buy my stuff either.”

Princess chuckled. “I’ll put that in your chart.”

You slumped back onto the gurney, closing your eyes. This was officially the most embarrassing thing that had ever happened to you. Which was saying something, considering you once accidentally sexted your building manager.

The sound of hurried footsteps pulled your attention to the hallway.

“Where is she?” came a familiar voice. Calm, but rushed. Less annoyed than… worried.

Your stomach dipped.

Princess didn’t even glance over. “There it is.”

You opened your eyes, sitting up slowly. “He’s here?”

“Yup.”

“Do you know if he’s like—mad?”

Princess finally looked up at you. “He looked… like he needed to know you were okay.”

You bit your lip. “Ugh. That’s worse.”

The curtain pulled open gently—no dramatic whip, no scolding.

There he was.

Dr. Michael Robby Robinovitch. Brown hair slightly messy, like he’d run his hands through it on the way down, stethoscope hanging around his neck, scrubs just a little rumpled. His eyes landed on you immediately, softening the second he saw your face.

“You fainted over a pair of underwear?”

Your smile dropped. “Excuse me, I was attacked over a pair of underwear.”

A flicker of amusement crossed his face, but he didn’t laugh. He stepped inside quietly, pulling the curtain mostly shut behind him.

“Are you okay?” he asked, voice low.

“I mean, my face hurts and my dignity’s practically, but otherwise? Sure.”

He moved closer, reaching out carefully to lift the ice pack away. “Let me see.”

You let him, even though the swelling around your nose made you feel anything but cute. He studied you for a second, then met your eyes.

“Doesn’t look broken. We’ll scan just to be safe.”

You tried to joke. “If I need a nose job, I’m getting a cute one.”

His mouth twitched. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

He sat on the edge of the bed, resting his hand gently on your knee.

“I got paged when they brought you in,” he said quietly. “Didn’t know it was you until I heard the report and someone described you as all ‘crop top’ and ‘attitude.’”

You laughed, even though your head throbbed a little when you did. “Hell yeah.”

“I was worried,” he admitted, thumb brushing lightly over your knee. “You don’t just faint. That’s not you.”

“I didn’t mean to be dramatic,” you said softly. “I just… kind of blinked and hit the floor.”

“You don’t have to explain. You’re here. That’s what matters.”

You exhaled, letting yourself relax for the first time since the mall.

He looked at you again, a little smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. “Can’t leave you alone for five minutes, can I?”

You smirked. “You really can’t, look what I get up too.”

Robby didn’t move right away. His hand rested on your knee, thumb tracing quiet, reassuring circles through the thin hospital blanket. You shifted slightly, trying not to wince at the dull ache spreading from the bridge of your nose up into your forehead.

“Do I look terrible?” you asked, your voice lower now.

He glanced up from your chart, his soft brown eyes sweeping across your face—not with judgment, but with quiet focus. “You look like someone who took a hit and handled it.”

“So... still cute?” you teased lightly.

Michael’s lips curved, just barely. “Always.”

You smiled, then sighed. “This might be the most embarrassing day of my life.”

“Worse than the time you locked yourself out of the house in your underwear?”

“Low blow Mikey, low blow… and that was different. That was private shame. This is public, in my baby tee, with paramedics and nosy mall goers.”

He hummed softly, stepping back just as Princess peeked back in through the curtain, a clipboard in hand.

“Radiology’s ready,” she said with a kind smile. “You want a wheelchair or are you feeling steady?”

You started to sit up. “I’m fine. I can walk.”

Michael gave you a look—calm but pointed. “Let me help you.”

“I can do it.”

“I know,” he said, already offering a hand. “But let me anyway.”

You hesitated, then reached for him. His hand was warm and steady, and the way he hovered—not overbearing, just present—made you feel safe, even if your pride was still limping along behind you.

The walk down the hallway was quiet. The CT tech moved efficiently, guiding you through the scan with minimal small talk, and before you knew it, you were back in your bay, settling onto the stretcher again with a little more care than before.

Robby was waiting, flipping through a printout from radiology.

“Well?” you asked.

He glanced at you. “No fracture. No concussion. You’re just bruised, a little rattled too, but otherwise okay.”

You exhaled. “Good.”

He softened as he looked at you again, that quiet relief flickering behind his usual calm. “You scared me.”

“I didn’t mean to.”

“I know.”

Yet another nurse returned just then, handing over a water bottle and a stack of discharge instructions. “You’re free to go. Ice for the swelling, rest tonight, and take it easy for a couple days.”

Michael took the papers from your hands before you could even skim them. “I’ll go over these with her.”

You gave him a look but didn’t argue. It was kind of nice, having him take over. Quietly protective. Familiar.

They gave you a small smile. “Try to stay out of trouble, okay?”

You nodded. “No more shopping trips. Lesson learned.”

Michael helped you off the bed with a gentleness that didn’t surprise you. As you reached for your bag, you felt his hand at the small of your back, guiding you without a word toward the exit.

“Thank you,” you said quietly, glancing up at him as the first doors opened.

He looked down at you, a soft smile tugging at his mouth. “Always.”

As the next set automatic doors hissed, the cool mid-day air brushed against your skin. The hospital parking lot glowed in the flickering daylight, and for the first time all day, things felt quiet. Still.

Michael walked beside you, not rushing, just staying close. You didn’t say much—didn’t really need to.

At your rideshare pickup spot, since you clearly hadn’t taken your car here. You stopped and turned toward him. He still had the discharge paperwork tucked under one arm, the other hand resting casually on the small of your back.

“You sure you’re okay to go?” he asked, voice low.

You nodded. “Yeah. A little sore. A lot tired. But I’ll be fine, hopefully.”

His eyes searched yours for a moment, not quite convinced.

“You passed out,” he said gently. “That’s not nothing.”

“I know.”

“If anything feels off tonight—headache that gets worse, nausea, anything weird—call me.”

You nodded again, a little slower this time. “I will.”

He studied you for another beat, then stepped forward, brushing a stray piece of hair from your cheek. His hand lingered there, warm against your skin.

“I mean it,” he said. “Even if it’s just a gut feeling. Call me.”

You smiled softly. “Okay.”

Then, without any rush, he leaned in and kissed you—just a quick, careful kiss to your forehead, right above the bruise forming at your hairline. Tender and light. Like punctuation at the end of a sentence that didn’t need words.

“Rest,” he murmured. “I’ll check in later.”

You watched him for a second before stepping back toward the car that had just pulled up.

And even though your face still ached and your head felt like cotton, you suddenly felt a little better than you had all day.

mercvry-glow 2025

#the pitt #the pitt max #the pitt hbo #the pitt x reader #the pitt x you #michael robinavitch #michael robinavitch x reader #michael robinavitch x you #dr. michael robinavitch #dr. michael robinavitch x reader #dr. michael robinavitch x you #noah wyle #❥ - Michael Robinavitch

889 notes · View notes

megapteraurelia · 1 month ago

Text

roommates!osasuna who, before they've agreed to share you, hear you in your room at night, soft gasps, breathy moans and their names escaping your lips as you bring yourself to the brink of insanity, and fuck, now neither of them can sleep.

suna finds himself in osamu's room not long after, his mouth full with cock. one hand of his leisurely drags across his own length, pumping himself against the scratchy sheets of osamu's that he's told him to change countless of times. now, though, it's long past the point of caring when he spills all over it, paints his name across the soft grey; osamu's neck with that one thick vein on display as his hand gripped suna's hair tightly.

suna ends up swallowing all of it.

roommates!osasuna who have incredibly soft spots that you exploit, always. osamu loves when you run your fingers through his hair, and he melts, his eyes half-lidded as they gaze at you with an intensity that you've only known him have when he concentrates on his projects, coming up with different recipes. his cheek weighs heavier in your hand as he sinks into it, and his mouth presses small little kisses on the palm of your hand.

suna is a hair width away from actually purring when you tug on his earrings, gently, just playing with them when you're cuddling. but when you tug, he freezes and his lips part slightly, a pretty little blush unfurling on his skin. his eyelashes flutter and even though he denies it, he leans into your touch a little more.

roommates!osasuna who have a group chat with you, and the things being sent there range from innocent to suggestive to downright pornographic.

day 1

has osamu send a picture of food he's cooked, telling you to come home hungry. (sometimes, though, he likes to push it a little, because then he'll send another text: "if yer good, ya get fed. if yer better, you get bent over the counter first.")

day 2

has suna send a blurry video, half naked, pulling his shorts down, revealing more and more of his dick until it cuts off right before it could spring free, captioned: "your spot's cold."

day 3

has both of them argue over who was able to please you better last night:

sunarin, "trust me, she was already shaking when i kissed her. you literally just got to the finish line."

osamu, "i'd say that too if i were you. doesn't count when i'm the one doin' all the work, huh?"

sunarin, "yeah, well, she moaned my name louder than yours."

osamu, "ya wanna weigh in, sweetheart? who made you cum harder?"

sunarin, "that's a trap, baby. don't answer that."

you shut up their pissing contest with an incoming video call and when they both accepted it, they were met with fingers deep in your glistening pussy, voice already shot from how loud you were moaning. osamu exits the call right away only to enter it again a couple minutes later, and you recognise the change of location — he's moved into the storeroom of onigiri miya, his dark cap pulled deep over his eyes, but you could see the way his teeth dug into the pillow of his lower lip, slick noises echoing through your phone as he fucks his fist.

suna's long-gone, having propped up his phone against his gym bag, head rolled back as he lets spit dribble onto his angry dick, palming himself as it sat pretty over his shorts in the empty locker room. you heard faint knocking and complaints coming through from his side, but you were sure he's locked the door on purpose, and each second, that he's not letting his teammates in, is another second that he's hastily pumping himself.

day 4

has suna sending a picture of you passed out on the couch in osamu's hoodie, "look at baby." and osamu replying with "tell 'er she's cute when she drools. also, seaweed chips?"

day 5

has osamu saving all the little voice notes you send of you laughing, of you talking about your day, and the camera roll is full with suna's cute as shit pictures of you and 'samu.

day 6

has you cry about work and how stressful it is, and osamu's the one who ends up texting you throughout it, sending you messages in quick succession, as if he hasn't a whole restaurant to run, as if he has all the time in the world to focus on you and you only.

hey. breathe f'me a sec, alright? just stop everythin' and take one good deep breath. yer doin' your best and i'm proud of you for pushin' through it. but ya don't gotta carry it all on yer own, sweetheart you come home to us tonight, yeah? we'll take care of ya. you don't hafta be strong. bein' with you makes my day easier so let me do the same f'you.

suna's not the type to text a lot when it's sentimental, but he sends you a heart, and when you come home, your favourite food's already made, a hot bath run and your favourite hoodie of suna's draped on your bed, warm from the dryer, smelling like his cologne. and when you crawl in between both of them, his fingers are right there to travel over your body in a way that grounds you, that tells you this is where you belong, this is where you are loved and doted on and safe.

day 7

has them try to annoy you, rating your reactions like it's a game on a scale from one to ten as you sit amongst friends, enduring their suggestive comments and ignoring the way they had you right in their line of sight whenever you glance down before immediately turning the phone around, a blush burning on your cheeks.

you, "can we not do this tonight. please."

osamu, "do what?"

sunarin, "she's already cracking. that's a 4/10 reaction chat"

when you glance up from your phone, rolling your eyes, osamu's pretending to sip his drink, but suna doesn't even care, staring right at you with that lazy look in his eyes, one eyebrow cocked.

another notification comes through a couple of minutes later and when you open it, you choke a little on your spit, awkwardly laughing off the concern of a friend only to look at the picture again. it's a photo from under the table, osamu's hand resting on his thigh, the zipper of his pants pulled down slightly, giving the bulge slightly more room to breathe.

the caption? "thinkin' 'bout where yer mouth should be right now."

sunarin's text isn't far behind, "oh, that face. that's a solid 6.5"

osamu, "mhmm, i give it a 7. she did this cute lip biting thing."

the next ordeal you go through is when suna sends a video half an hour later, and it's just his hand under the table as his fingers imitate the movement he always fucks you with, digits scissoring and stretching out inside an invisible hole as his thumb rubs nothing but thin air. the implication has your breath hitching, your thighs tingling as you pressed them together, any reprieve, oh god.

sunarin, "8/10, she's shifting in her seat."

and osamu takes the cake, he really does, because there's an entire paragraph sitting right before you, and arousal is a familiar concept etched in your very soul as you read it, face growing hotter and hotter, heart stuttering in tandem with the rustling in your ear from how fast your blood seems to run.

gonna make that pretty little face again when we bend ya over the kitchen table later? arms pulled behind yer back, tits all over the counter. bet yer gonna cry and sob for one of us to hurry up and fuck ya already. but ya know us, sweetheart, don'tcha? we'll take our time, i wanna see ya squirm against rin's mouth be good at dinner, we can be as nasty as ya want later

you really do end up hiding your face in your hands.

a message of sunarin coming through, "9.5/10. almost there"

and almost there, you are later once the door slammed shut behind you and their hands are all over you, teeth clinking against each other in a heated kiss. you get shoved forward until your hands hit the kitchen table, tits pressed against the mahogany just like promised, breath ragged as suna tugs your pants down like a dehydrated madman searching for water.

his teeth find your wet panties, stuck to your pussy lips like a second skin and he sucks the juice out with a groan, fingers keeping your thighs spread and steady. osamu's hand is dragging across his length, his cock heavy as it rest in between your ass cheeks, tip leaking, forming a little puddle in the dip of your back.

"been dyin' to get my hands on you all night."

you taste the wood as you pant against it, hands trying to catch even a little bit of osamu, but his grip is relentless, tight on your wrists. he tuts with his tongue, the click close to your ear as he smothers you with his weight, one leg of his pushing yours further out.

"be good for rin, sweetheart, won't ya?"

how were you supposed to be good for anything when suna's mouth latches onto your clit like that? when his jaw moves hard and fast as it suckles on the swollen nub, fingers teasing the quivering hole, dipping into your heat easily, "god, you're so fucking perfect," — your legs buckling, tears pricking at your lash line, biting your lip to keep from crying out, caught between the sting of his force and the pleasure burning through your veins.

how were you supposed to be good for anything when osamu lines up behind you, hard and ready? his head nudges against suna's fingers and really, suna cannot resist, fingers pulling out to tug on osamu's dick, using your slick to coat him as he found the sensitive vein on the underside easily, thumb rubbing the reddened tip.

"ngh, sunarin, yer such, ah, a bastard."

suna spoke against your pussy, and the vibrations have you push against his mouth, "yeah, but 'samu, don't forget that i can feel you throbbing in my hand. so am i a bastard or are you moaning for me?"

osamu's rubbing against your folds, tip catching suna's mouth every so often, and how does that leave you, hm? begging on top of the table, legs trembling, only kept upright because suna likes having you sit above him, stray tears stealing themselves on the wood, as your ass pushes back against osamu's backside.

"please, p-please, fu-hah-fuck me," you mewl, over and over until at least one of them has mercy and urges osamu's dick to finally fill you. his groan when he realises how easy he slips into you is deep and loud, reverberating against you so deliciously. you're so wet, he's bottoming out before he could even register the movement of his hips, and god, the sound of his balls slapping against your drooling pussy lips is heavy, suna's wet noises of sucking on your clit even worse.

really — how were you supposed to be good for anything?

1 | 2 | 3 | 4

TAGLIST | @sodaneko @takes1 @classicalelephant @pomigranit @sugacor3 @boktuoafterdark

sorry not sorry

759 notes · View notes

nekonaps0 · 1 month ago

Note

Girly pop your writing is immaculate. Don't stress, cause you got that dawg in you. :D

Also can I be known as Idia anon? Cause I ask for him the majority of the time. :>

So my request-

Actually I didn't check if you were accepting any...

I got too overjoyed, sorry :(

So incase you are taking requests--

House wardens dealing with a reader who's from like...the 1900s, so she's really bad with anything technology related.

Um anyway have a good day!!

You from the 1900s !?!?

✦characters: House warden

✦ gn!reader

Thank you so much! I’m trying my best!^^

And yes the requests are open!

And OMFG I LOVED WRITING THIS! I had so much fun writing it!

Riddle Rosehearts

Riddle has no patience for breaking rules… unless it’s you.

He watches you poke suspiciously at a tablet, muttering something about how

“this strange mirror-box must be possessed.”

You nearly scream when the screen flickers.

“It’s not a cursed object!” he snaps. “It’s just a MagiTab! Everyone uses them nowadays!”

But when he sees the genuine confusion on your face, he exhales and sits beside you.

“It’s okay. I’ll teach you. Just don’t touch any random buttons. And absolutely don’t try to boil it in a kettle again.”

He ends up patiently writing out a guide for you in fountain pen ink because “it feels more familiar to you.” You keep it folded in your coat pocket like a love letter.

Leona Kingscholar

Leona groans when you stare at the washing machine like it’s going to explode.

“Herbivore, it's not gonna bite you.” You shoot him a dry look.

“We didn’t even have electricity in half the town I grew up in. This thing looks like a metal beast.”

He’s lazy, sure, but he ends up tossing his book aside and swaggering over.

“You put the clothes in, close the lid, hit the button. Boom. Magic. Now stop actin’ like it’s a damn ritual.”

You squint at the buttons. “Which one’s the ‘start’?”

“…You know what, move. I’ll do it. You’re gonna break something.”

But secretly, he likes it. It makes him smirk seeing how wide-eyed you get at the simplest things—like it’s all new magic. He tells Ruggie to record your first time using a microwave “just for the laughs.”

Azul Ashengrotto

Azul is delighted.

You’re from the 1900s? You have no idea how phones, networks, or cameras work? Oh, what a dream client.

“I see… so, if I offered you a little contract that would instantly teach you how to operate all current-day magical tech…”

You raise an eyebrow. “What’s the catch?”

Azul pushes his glasses up. “No catch! Only a… minor magical pledge of servitude—er, assistance! For educational purposes only.”

But you’re stubborn. You refuse. So, instead, he ends up painstakingly drawing diagrams and holding tech history lectures just for you. Floyd laughs at him for it.

“You’re such a nerd for them, Shrimpy’s like a time traveler and you’re still blushing!”

Azul glares, but doesn’t deny it.

Kalim Al-Asim

Kalim thinks you’re amazing. You’re like a walking, talking history book! He once finds you trying to light a candle with flint and steel because “electricity is unreliable.” You flinch when the lights flicker.

“WHOA! You’re like… ancient…cool!” he gasps, stars in his eyes.

He insists on giving you the tour of the century he teaches you how to use smartphones by letting you decorate his with beads and charms. He even buys you a flip phone

“because it’s got buttons! You like buttons, right?!”

When you confuse the intercom with a telephone, he goes along with it and starts calling you over it like it’s a telegram line.

You both get in trouble for yelling into the hallway speaker system. He just laughs it off and offers to help you write your first email like it’s a royal decree.

Vil Schoenheit

You nearly faint the first time you see yourself in a selfie camera. You swat the phone out of your hand and scream.

Vil just blinks. “Dear, that’s not black magic. That’s your reflection. Honestly, you look rather radiant—”

He catches the phone before it hits the floor and sighs dramatically.

“You’re going to give me gray hairs.”

At first, he finds it exasperating until he realizes how refreshingly natural you are. No filters, no tech addiction, no social media dependence.

He starts calling you his “timeless darling,” and he adores how you prefer letters to texts. Vil even plan a classic-style photoshoot: vintage clothes, candlelight. It goes viral.

He won’t admit it, but he’s charmed by your innocence.

Idia Shroud

Oh no.

Oh no no no.

You don’t know what a smartphone is? You don’t have a favorite game? You’ve never even seen an anime?!

Idia short-circuits.

At first, he’s horrified. You stare at his glowing screens like they’re cursed runes. You once asked Ortho if he was a ghost.

“You’re like… a time traveler NPC,” he mutters, nearly spiraling. “No firmware update… no RAM… Y-you don’t even know what a meme is!”

But then…

He starts showing you all his favorite things. One by one. Old-school games, slow-burn anime, classic consoles. He sets up a CRT monitor just so it’s “authentic” to your time. You think the pixel art is “darling.”

It becomes your thing: old meets new. You even help him write a game based on “your era.”

You don’t get half the references, but you love his excited rants.

Malleus Draconia

Malleus… doesn’t think you’re strange at all.

You shyly explain your fear of cell phones, how the “mirror network” feels eerie, how magic-infused technology makes your skin crawl.

He just smiles, serene.

“I can’t agree more, you don’t have to worry about those dear” he says gently.

When you accidentally burn toast in the toaster and start panicking like you’ve summoned a fire demon, Malleus calmly puts it out.

“It’s only toast.”

He takes your hand and teaches you to send letters with magic, introduces you to enchanted paper that writes itself, and listens truly listens when you talk about your old world.

He even arranges a ballroom evening for you, with string quartets and vintage dancing. No phones. No electricity. Just you, stars, and a smile that makes you feel right at home.

..............................................................................................................................

459 notes · View notes

wayiiseetheworld · 2 months ago

Text

Espresso

Summary: Robby's normal shift ends with Abbot's wife in the ER.

Warnings: Jack Abbot x OC!Wife. Established relationship. Age gap marriage.

Word Count: 1,176

Author Note: I am obsessed with Abbot, Robby, and The Pitt. Slowly going to post my stories from A03 on here. Rewatching ER and Animal Kingdom because of this show. || Not my gif.

A03 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/64238392/chapters/164875135

Prev | Next | Finale

Today was unusually calm. As much as he despised that word, it was undeniably true—there was an unexpected stillness in the chaos of the Pitt. "Quiet" was a banned term here for a reason.

Robby should have been grateful for the relatively uneventful shift he had been assigned, especially considering it had only been a week since the Pitt Fest shooting that had led to his emotional breakdown. This was his first day back since that harrowing night.

As he walked into the bay, he passed Dana, who was on the phone, frustratedly urging someone to pick up. Robby’s heart sank as he stepped into the trauma room and caught sight of the bed in the center. “Aila,” he muttered under his breath. His best friend's wife lay unconscious, surrounded by Collins, an intern, and two nurses working frantically.

“Robby!” Dana's voice jolted him back to reality. He realized she was desperate to reach Abbot. “He should arrive soon. I can’t get through to him. His shift starts in an hour, so he’ll be here any minute. The police said it was a robbery; they found her in an alleyway behind the bar.”

Cursing softly, Robby took in Aila’s condition. Collins was talking, but Robby was barely listening. Her face was bruised and swollen, likely with a broken nose. Her left arm bore fresh bruises, and there were stab wounds on her shoulder and thigh.

To put it mildly, Jack Abbot was going to flip. This was a beating.

He takes a breath, “Someone needs to meet Abbot at the lockers. He cannot walk into this mess.” He would say Langdon as those two got along, but Langdon was at rehab.

Suddenly the woman on the bed’s eyes open, she yelps in pain before moving her head away from Collins to Robby. “Michael.” A whisper comes from Aila’s lips. Only a handful of people called him that, her being one of them. Collin, only for a moment looks at Robby in shock, how does this woman know him, is she suppose to know who she is?

He wasn’t expecting her to wake up, but Robby is now focused on her. He heard Collins say the bleeding of her thigh has stopped, the wound in the stomach though would be an issue. Robby puts his hand on the left side of her cheek when he notices her starting to panic. “You're okay.” It wasn’t a lie, Robby told himself, she was awake and that meant she was okay even if it was just right now.

Aila flinches at the touch of his hand on her skin, tears welling in her eyes. “Jack?” Confusion darkens her expression as she tries to grasp her surroundings.

Robby feels his pulse quicken at the sight of her closing her eyes again, surrendering to the shadows. “We need to hurry!”

+++++

King took Dana's words to heart. “He seems to have developed an attachment to you. When Doctor Abbot arrives, you need to pull him aside and guide him to the staff room—it’s far from his wife. Tell him it’s urgent, then come find me. I'll handle the rest.” Dana would tell the man about his injured wife.

She paced the locker room after Dana left her to return where the action was, her mind racing as she awaited the doctor's arrival.

+++++

“Damn.” Jack Abbot spoke into his phone, leaving a voicemail for his wife. “You must be swamped at the bar if you can’t answer my call.” He wasn’t upset; he understood she was managing the restaurant after the manager failed to show up. Earlier discussions revealed that she was juggling two waitresses, the hostess, the kitchen, and her bar, all of which had stressed her out. “I just wanted to remind you that I love you and to make sure you eat and drink during your shift. I can’t have you ending up in the ER again due to dehydration,”—it has happened more than once and now a real worry for him—“Just call me back when you can. Love you.”

He ended the call, sliding his phone into his pocket as he approached the locker area. He froze upon spotting King by the lockers, the woman he had become acquainted with during his occasional shifts covering for Robby during this last week. Something was visibly troubling her.

“Is everything okay, King?” He stepped closer to his locker, ready to stow his bag, but King didn’t budge from her spot. He looked her up and down, before his gut told him that something was wrong.

“I need you to come to the staff break room with me. It’s urgent.” The words slipped from her lips with an air of rehearsed seriousness, he could tell. He was right, something was not right.

“King.”

She sighed, then whispered earnestly, “Please.”

Jack hesitated, reaching for his phone once more and noticing the five missed calls from Dana. “Where is she?” His heart dropped.

“What do you mean?”

“My wife—those missed calls from Dana, you waiting for me at the lockers, her not answering like she usually does when she’s at work.” He ran a hand over his face, frustration mounting. “King—I'm asking you one last time: where is my wife?”

King stands frozen, overwhelmed by uncertainty as she processes his question. Should she address him as the husband of a patient or as her supervisor? An uncomfortable silence hangs between them as she struggles to find the right words, until the sound of footsteps approaches from behind.

“Dana,” Abbott calls out. “Wha…”

Dana notices the recognition in his eyes; he understands that his wife is here. “She’s going to be okay,” she says gently, interrupting him. “Robby is accompanying her to surgery. I’ve already contacted Jason for you, so you won’t be able to work today.” There’s no room for debate; it’s already decided, he wouldn’t be working tonight and Abbot knows that is the right thing. As King quietly slips away from the conversation, Jack suddenly becomes aware of a tightness in his chest, as if he’s forgotten how to breathe. The intense urge to flee to the rooftop fades away from him. Dana takes a step closer to Jack, a man she deeply admires—a dedicated doctor who has faced his own struggles since returning from war. “Jack,” her voice quivers as she places a hand on his shoulder, giving it a reassuring squeeze. “The police told me it was a robbery. They found her alone in the alley behind the bar. She fought back—she's one tough son of a bitch.”

“Surgery?” he asks, a mix of disbelief and shock in his voice, unsure if he truly heard her correctly. She was supposed to be working - not in the OR.

“Let me take you up.”

#the Pitt fanfiction #the Pitt fanfic #jack abbot #Jack Abbot Fanfiction #Jack Abbot Fanfic #jack abbot x oc #dr abbot

436 notes · View notes

twohearts-hs · 3 months ago

Text

Dove & Captain: 1 - Dr. Jack Abbot x Reader Series

Words in Total: 7.5k

Pairings: Dr. Jack Abbot x fem!reader

Synopsis: She's his Dove. The ER nurse who is the definition of chaos, trauma and humour in scrubs. He's her Captain, gruff, emotionally guarded war veteran with a prosthetic leg and completely in love with her. Six years together, a mortgage, four dogs and the ability to conquer anything. This is a story of their life in one day. He is 49, she's 30. This is one day of their life based on the 15 episodes of 'The Pitt'. There will be little imagines of their relationship over the years.

Warnings: Swearing, Age Gap, Trauma, Medical Language/Procedure, Pregnancy, etc.

A/N: This is a complete series of ~60k. I will post a few snapshots of their relationship over the six+ years they've been together.

Hope you enjoy :)

Series Masterlist

0700

The bathroom tile was absolutely and utterly freezing against her bare knees, but Y/N did not move. She couldn’t. She couldn’t risk it, but she also, she couldn’t stop. Another wave of nausea crept up her spine and she leaned forward just in time to vomit into the toilet bowl again. Her hands gripped the rim of the toilet with white knuckles, her pulse loud in her ears. She stayed like this, motionless, forehead pressed to the cool porcelain, eyes watering and sweat along her brow.

She knew now it was not food poisoning or stress. Yesterday, it confirmed it. She was indeed pregnant. Dana made her take a pregnancy test, and it came out clear. Then, they confirmed it with a blood test. Then again, with an ultrasound. Seven weeks along, she was, and she was completely terrified.

Y/N had endometriosis, a very severe case which at nineteen she was told by doctors that the chance of her getting pregnant is very slim, but the chance of her being able to carry full term was even slimmer. Therefore, when she and Jack got serious, Y/N expressed to him that she was not able to have children,, and he supported her in that. He was older, forty-nine now and she just hit thirty, together for six years. Not married. But common law. Share a mortgage, a credit card and joint bank account as well as, four dogs while he helped raise her brother.

Very serious, very committed, very much together, but just not legally binding to one another through a marriage contract. Though, they love one another with everything in themselves.

However, he did not know she was pregnant. She found out yesterday during her day shift. He worked the nights. They have been barely passing one another, barely able to talk with their conflicting schedule. Y/N used to work nights, but she got pulled to day shifts lately due to a nurse leaving on maternity leave.

She was planning on telling him tonight. He had the day off. His shift ended at seven in the morning, while she started hers at seven. When she got off at seven that evening prior, she had a whole speech prepared to tell him. However, only Dana knew at this moment.

Y/N took a slow, ragged breath, blinking back tears. Not because she was sad. Not because she was happy. But because she didn’t know how to feel. Never had she thought she’d be able to get pregnant with him. Never had she thought she’d have to talk to Jack about what to do.

He was forty-nine. He was older. To throw a child into their life would create chaos. She was younger, thirty and it could work. However, both were workaholics. Y/N never thought she’d be able to be a mother, so she never thought this through.

Tonight. She would talk to him tonight. They would plan, discuss and come up with the solution moving forward. A nurse. A homeowner. A mother to four dogs. In a stable, quiet, loving partnership with a very nice man. A man who understood her more than anyone ever had. They owned dogs, shared a mortgage, grew herbs in the windowsill, argued about laundry and both fought over who would cook in the evenings,as that is one of their shared love languages. It was good. Peaceful. Calm. Lovely.

However, morning sickness fucking sucks. And this? This was not part of the plan. Especially being told that this could never happen.

Sleeping in a bed alone last night while Jack worked the evening shift was something she did not like. However, she had to go to work, talk to him and see him for a bit before he went home and she had to keep this a secret. She had twelve hours to work through before they could have a serious talk.

Glancing at her watch, she groaned again.

Late. She was utterly, completely and terribly late.

Rounds were about to start soon. The handover from night shift to day shift was about to happen. Work was about to begin. Yet, Y/N was stuck on the ground of the ensuite, tears flowing down her face and nausea bubbling over.

Dressed in a pair of sleep shorts and a bra, her hair was matted and bags covered under her eyes.

She was fucked.

Taking a deep breath, she pulled herself away from the toilet bowl. Guilty a little bit because she was leaving with a spoiled toilet, and normally she would clean it after puking. However, she was late to work and Robby would have a fit.

Jack was at the computer, filing in the last bits of his shift. Writing patient notes, talking to Robby for the handover. However, his eyes furrowed as he glanced at his watch to see that it was just past seven and Y/N was not here yet. Where was she? She was never late. Rather, she was constantly early.

“Dr. Robinavitch?” a voice came from behind Robby as he leaned against the nurses’ station talking to Jack.

“Yep,” he replied, turning to the voice.

“Melissa King. I will be joining you today. I just came from two months at the VA,” Mel told Robby, voice pitched with excitement and a smile.

“Hey, welcome to the Pitt,” Robby replied, shaking her hand. “This is Dr. Jack Abbot,” Robby introduced, glancing over to Jack, who was focused on the computer in front of him and didn’t glance over to the resident.

“Nice to meet you,” Mel hummed before looking at Robby again. ��I can’t tell you how excited I am to be here today, so…”

“Talk to me at the end of the day,” Jack muttered, looking over to the resident, voice low and serious.

Robby glanced at Jack. “Ignore him. He had a rough night,” he stated, “and is having an ongoing existential crisis.”

Jack stood up, straightening as he looked a them. “Don’t worry, you’ll get there soon enough,” he joked, coldly, face serious. “Robby, have you seen Y/N?” he asked, looking over to his old revival and long time friend. “She’s never late and I haven’t seen her.”

Robby’s brows drew together in concern. “No, not yet. She’s usually in by now.”

Jack didn’t respond. Instead, he turned his gaze to the main hallway, like maybe she’d appear if he just stared long enough. But there was nothing – nothing…no rushed footsteps, no half-apologetic smile, no Y/N clutching a coffee cup and calling out something sarcastic to the team. Just a sterile corridor buzzing with too many lights and not enough soul.

He tapped his fingers against the nurses’ station counter, the way he always did when he was trying not to overthink.

“Maybe she overslept? Traffic? Maybe one of the dogs got out?” Robby offered casually, but Jack didn’t bite.

“She doesn’t oversleep when she is supposed to work,” he muttered under his breath. Then, louder. “She never oversleeps. The dogs are trained. They don’t escape.”

Robby shrugged. “Traffic then? You two are like in the woods. Text her. She’ll be here,” he replied with a smile before patting Jack’s back. “Don’t stress.”

Jack nodded watching as Robby walked away with Mel, rounding up his interns, residents and med students for rounds. Pulling out his phone, he brought up his messages with Y/N, but she had sent nothing since last night.

Y/N slammed the door shut to her Bronco with more force then intended, her hair still damp from the world’s fastest shower, pulled into a low messy bun. She hadn’t had time to do her usual minimal makeup, and her scrubs were slightly wrinkled. She felt gross. Heavy. Empty. Swollen. Her bag was slung over one shoulder, and a tangerine stuffed in her pocket that was her makeshift breakfast. She knew Jack would lecture her. However, the nausea was still there.

Running across the hospital parking lot, her sneakers pounded against the concrete in rhythm. Each step sent a dull ache up her spine, her stomach still uneasy, her head spinning from the sudden movement and lack of food.

She burst through the staff entrance, making her way through the triage to the back, scanning her badge on each door.

It was 7:18.

“Shit,” she hissed to herself, brushing past coworkers as she headed towards the nurses’ station after placing her belongings in a locker. Jack was still there. Robby too. And several new faces which she placed as the new intern, resident and medical students.

Her gaze met Jack’s, and he raised a brow at her, but she just sent a small smile. He didn’t look angry. But his eyes were sharp, worried. That was worse.

“As you can see, we have some new faces with us this morning,” Robby began. “Good morning. Good morning. Come on over.”

Y/N stood behind the station, looking over the new faces. Jack was glancing at her, but she said nothing.

“Starting with second-year resident, Dr. Melissa King, fresh from the VA,” Robby announced.

“Everyone calls me Mel,” Mel said with a smile. “I’m so happy to be here.”

“Trinity Santos, intern,” a new face said, pale skin and dark hair.

Y/N crossed her arms as she glanced over to Dana who was on the phone. Y/N knew there was an incoming trauma.

“We’ve got two traumas from the T,” Dana said, holding the phone to her ear. “Five minutes out.”

“Ok, copy that,” Robby replied. “Actually, this is the most important person that you’re going to meet today. This is Dana. She’s our charge nurse. She is the ringleader of our circus,” he said before looking over to Y/N. “And this here is Y/N. Nurse as well. Nurses are your best friends. As you can see, our house is always packed, and our department is mostly clogged up with boarders. Those are admitted patients waiting for a room upstairs, sometimes for days. Beds are a very precious commodity around here, so please be quick and efficient with your workups. What else?” he paused for a moment to breathe, then nodded. “We treat the sicker patients back here, but please keep your eye on that waiting room. Make sure nobody’s gonna die out there. Your senior residents are Dr. Collins and Dr. Langdon. You report to them, and they report to me. Ok? Great.”

As the last of the introductions faded into the background, Robby took his team to deal with the incoming trauma.

Jack noticed she wasn’t listening. Not really. Her arms were crossed, fingers twitching like she was trying to ground herself, eyes glazed over just enough to make him uneasy. That wasn’t like her.

Before she could slip away to get a shift change from the night shift, Jack reached out, a firm but gentle hand on her elbow. “Kid.”

She looked up at him, startled.

“Hi,” she whispered, a small smile gracing her face. “How are you? How was the shift?” she asked, sending him a small smile.

He stared at her for a minute, whiskey eyes connecting with hers. “Fine. Rough, but fine. We can talk more later about it. Can I talk to you for a minute, though, in private?” he asked, his voice low. Not unkind. Just quieter than usual.

Y/N hesitated for a moment, then gave a tiny nod, letting him guide her a few feet down the hallway near the med supply room, just out of earshot from others. It was private but not secluded enough to feel like a scene.

Jack looked over her carefully now that they were face to face. Her skin was pale, tinged with that clammy undertone he only ever saw in patients who hadn’t eaten or had something deeper going on. The bags under her eyes were harsh against her face. No mascara, no usual faint blush or a neat bun. Her hair was tied back like she’d done it blind, and her face looked dry, bitten.

“You were late. You’re never late,” he said quietly. Not accusatory. Just a fact. His eyes narrowed as he scanned her over. Then he tried to make eye contact with her.

Y/N glanced down, crossing her arms over her chest. “I know. I’m sorry,” she whispered, shifting uncomfortably. “It won’t happen again.”

“That’s not you.” He waited for a second, but she was still looking down. “What happened, Dove?”

They were alone, and the nickname slipped his lips.

“Nothing. I’m fine,” she replied a little too quickly, shaking her head.

Jack frowned. “Dove, you don’t look fine,” he replied, trying to get her to look at him. “Look at me.”

Y/N glanced up to see him, his eyes meeting her and all she could see what the complete care he had for her.

“I’m just tired. It’s nothing,” she said, brushing her hand through her hair. “I went to bed late. I overslept. Forgot to set an alarm. Stayed up late talking to Beckett.” Beckett was her younger brother, half-brother.

He tilted his head, raising a brow. Silence happened between them. “Y/N…”

“Jack, just drop it,” she muttered, voice tight. “I’m here now. That’s what matters, right?”

He stared at her for a moment, crossing his own arms now. Biceps bulging which usually makes her heart flutter, but she was glancing away. “I know you. You’re hiding something,” he whispered.

Y/N glanced around. They were always professional at work. People never really questioned their relationship. Him being a trauma attending and her a trauma nurse. But now, with his voice so soft and eyes so concerned, it felt like a crack in their practised armour.

“Jack,” she started, but the words faltered, her throat tight. “I didn’t sleep well. Ever since I’ve been put on days, it’s just weird sleeping alone when you are doing nights and–“

“You’re deflecting,” he interrupted. He leaned in a little closer, not touching her, but lowering his voice so that no one would overhear. “Dove, I’m not mad. I just want to know what’s going on. Talk to me.”

Her eyes flickered again, to the hallway beyond, to where voices were rising and monitors beeped from the trauma bay. She couldn’t do this here. Not now. She felt the weight of the morning crashing down on her all over again. The puke. The nausea. The fact that she was pregnant.

“We can talk later. I need to work now,” she whispered, looking up to him. “I want to know how your shift went. I’m off at seven. I’ll be home and we can order in, watch one of those serious documentary movies thing you like and talk,” she proposed. Then she took a deep breath. “I’m ok,” she said confidently. “I’m ok,” Y/N said again.

Jack didn’t believe her.

Not because he thought she was lying. But because he knew her. Knew the way her jaw clenched when she was holding back. The way her voice steadied was not out of calm, but control. A nurse who thrived in chaos. A woman who didn’t flinch in a code blue. But here she was – eyes too shiny, hands twitching like she was trying to hold her pieces together.

Still, he nodded.

“Alright,” he said quietly. “Later then.”

She gave him the briefest nod. “I love you,” she whispered.

He nodded. “I know,” he whispered back. Y/N reached out and squeezed his hand. “It’s ok,” she whispered again, a mantra for herself more than anything. “Go home, sleep, have a shower, think of me in the shower,” she hummed, tone light as she winked, “give the dogs a kiss. Then I’ll be home before you know it.”

He chuckled lightly as he stared at her. “Did something happen with your brother?” he asked, raising a brow. She shook her head, and he narrowed his eyes. “Did something happen to your mom?” he asked. She shook her head. “Did something happen to you?” he asked, voice low now.

“Go home, Captain,” she stated, tone sharp. “I’ll see you later.”

He stared at her for a few more moments. “Have you eaten?” he eventually asked.

“No. I have a tangerine in my pocket that I grabbed on my way out,” she replied.

Jack rolled his eyes. “Christ, Y/N,” he whispered. “Let me go buy something from the cafeteria. I don’t want you to be running on nothing,” he muttered before walking off but squeezed her bicep as he left.

Y/N sighed, watching him leave. She stayed there for a moment before walking back to the nurses’ station. Y/N settled down next to Dana who looked over.

“You look like hell,” she muttered, chuckling and shaking her head.

Y/N rolled her eyes and glanced over to her friend. “You sound like Jack,” she muttered as she grabbed a tablet to look over.

“Jack said that. Doesn’t sound like Jack,” Dana replied.

Y/N sighed. “More like ‘Dove, you don’t look fine’ is what he said,” Y/N muttered as she looked over the charts. “Give me a shift change.”

Dana looked over at her, glasses perched on her nose, as she looked at the young nurse. “Have you told him?” she asked, hinting to the little secret she had.

Y/N groaned. “No. However, he is sniffing out that I’m hiding something.”

“He needs to know, sweetheart,” Dana replied.

“I know,” Y/N whispered back. “Spent the morning puking my guts out. That is why I was late.”

Dana clicked her tongue, her voice lowering but still tinged with that no-nonsense edge only a seasoned trauma nurse could carry. “Morning sickness is not your friend, but hey, you get something out of it in the end.”

Y/N looked over as Dana read her tablet. “I don’t know what I’m going to do,” Y/N whispered. “Don’t know how Jack will react.”

Dana’s eyes met with Y/N’s. “I’ve known you since you were a small, new graduate nurse. Well, met your briefly when you did your last practicum. What I know about you is that you already know what you’re going to do,” Dana replied. “However, Jack needs to know. He’s a lot of things – gruff, grumpy, allergic to small talk – but he loves you. If he finds out you didn’t tell him? Especially over something like this? He’s going to be very hurt.”

Y/N nodded. “I will tell him. Tonight. I won’t keep this from him, but,” Y/N sighed and looked around, “I’m scared.”

Dana reached out and gently touched Y/N’s wrists, grounding her. “Of course you are. You’d be crazy not to be. But you’re not alone, ok? You’re not doing this alone.”

Y/N swallowed thickly and gave her a small nod, eyes glassy. “It’s just…I was told I couldn’t. I couldn’t have kids. Couldn’t get pregnant. Therefore, Jack and I just didn’t care. We just went along with the ride. We didn’t think that I could get pregnant, and here I am. And now it’s like I’m holding a secret I never thought I’d have. Now I have the impossible and it’s terrifying,” she whispered, voice cracking, barely audible now.

Dana squeezed her wrist once before pulling away, sensing how raw Y/N was. “That’s a lot to carry, hon. And you’ve been doing this all alone. Let someone in,” she whispered, giving her a look.

“I let you in,” Y/N replied.

Dana raised a brow. “Let him in. How long have you two been together? Six years or something.”

Y/N nodded. “Yeah. No ring though,” Y/N replied, trying to make a joke as she let out a low chuckle. “No, we aren’t planning on getting married.”

Dana rose another brow. “How many dogs do you have?”

“Four. Two rescues, then I have my dachshund from when I was twenty-two and Granny, Jack’s rescue from aeons ago,” Y/N replied, lowly.

Dana nodded. “Four dogs. You bought a house together a year ago. A beautiful house with a big yard. He’s your emergency contact. You go on camping trips with him even though you hate camping. He bought you a car when you were together for what, six months? Because he didn’t want you walking home in the dark. He’s basically like Beckett’s dad. You share everything. You two are serious. Practically married. Talk about everything together. He’s your best friend, your other half, though I would say you’re the better half and you deal with his trauma, and he deals with yours. Tell him. What are you scared of?”

Y/N was silent for a moment and the words were on the tip of her tongue, I haven’t told him the truth.

However, just when she was about to respond Jack appeared in front of them. Coffee in one hand and a wrapped sandwich in the other. His eyes narrowed between the two of them, trying to calculate what was happening.

“Eat, Kid,” he said, placing the sandwich down in front of her. “It’s a breakfast sandwich,” he told her. “And a coffee. Two sugars and a splash of milk.” He didn’t look smug about it, rather just quietly concerned.

Y/N stared at him. “Thank you,” she said. However, the sandwich stayed still.

He stared at her. “Eat.”

“I will,” Y/N whispered. “I just need to get a shift change.”

“Eat while you’re getting a shift change,” he replied. His eyes were bouncing now between Dana and Y/N, sensing the tension, the way Dana was sitting just a little too straight, and how Y/N was avoiding his gaze.

He looked at Dana. “You know something.” Jack raised a brow at Dana. “Tell me what’s happening.”

Dana gave him her best nurse face. Calm, unreadable, efficient, while Y/N said nothing. “Nothing. All good. We’re good. Just girl talk,” she said smoothly, tapping her table. “Thanks for feeding our girl, though. She needs it.”

Jack glanced at Y/n, raising a brow. He lingered for a moment, arms crossing over his chest again. “Girl talk, huh?” he asked, tilting his head.

She forced a smile, pulling up the coffee and bringing it to her lips. “Thanks for the coffee and food,” she whispered, then smirked. “Just girl talk. You hate girl talk. You know Dana,” Y/N said, looking over to the older woman, “probably telling me to eat better and stop dating emotionally unavailable men.”

Jack raised a brow, letting out a scoff. “I’m very emotionally available…now, aren’t I?”

Y/N huffed a small laugh, grateful for the reprieve, even if her hands were shaking slightly around the cup. “You’re evolving. Better than when I first met you.”

He studied her for a moment longer, his eyes narrowing just a better. “Talk to me tonight, ok?”

Y/N nodded. “I will. Just tired.”

He didn’t look convinced. In fact, he looked like he was filing the entire interaction away in that steel-trap brain of his. The secrecy. The whispered tones. The way Dana had looked at Y/N.

Something was going on. And he didn’t like being left in the dark.

“You can tell me everything…anything. You know that, right?”

Her heart clenched. “I know,” she whispered. “And I do. You know too much about me.”

Jack gave a slight nod. “I’ll head out. Dogs are probably plotting a mutiny without me. Especially Delta. Barely a year, but pure chaos.” He sent her a small smile. “Text me if it gets too crazy here or if you get a really good case,” he finished.

Y/N nodded. “I will. Can you give Granny her medicine? I wasn’t able to when I left,” she told him, naming their oldest dog, a female named Alaska, but they call her Granny. She was Jack’s dog when they got together, which he got when he came back from his last tour.

He nodded. “Yeah, I can. Did you feed them?”

“I did. I let them out too before I came. Normal routine. However, Winston didn’t want to move from the bed so can you please let him out again?” she asked, sending him a smile. Winston was Y/N’s wire-haired dachshund, which she got when she was twenty-two after nursing school.

He nodded. “Yeah, can do. I’ll see you later, ok? Text me, ok?” he said, and Y/N nodded, agreeing.

Then Jack was gone, turning to leave, but he glanced back one more time, his brows furrowed, eyes sharp. Watching her like he was solving a puzzle.

As soon as he was gone, Y/N slumped back in her chair, sandwich untouched.

Dana glanced over; brow raised. “He totally knows something is up.”

Y/N groaned. “I know. He’s going to dig until he finds out.”

“Well, let’s make sure he hears it from you and not from putting two and two together.” Dana tapped her temple. “Smart man, that one. Scary smart.”

“I’ll tell him tonight,” Y/N muttered, more to herself than anything else. “Tonight.”

Dana gave her a look. “Promise?”

Y/N nodded, slower this time. “Promise.”

“Good. Let me get you something for the nausea,” Dana replied, getting up. She pointed to the sandwich that Jack bought. “But eat, you’re growing a baby,” she lectured.

“Dana, shush!”

Dana gave her medication to help with the nausea. They were going over their shift change when Robby appeared. Y/N was munching on the sandwich when Robby called their names.

“Abbot’s told me that he’s got a pregnant teen coming back today for mifepristone. Let me know when she gets here,” Robby said, looking at the two women.

“Sure,” Y/N replied.

“Yep,” Dana stated before turning back to the computer.

“Bowel obstruction still waiting on surgery consult. What about Garcia? She was just here for the traumas,” Robby rambled of the board.

“I think she was waiting for her attending to sign off,” Y/N muttered, looking over to Robby.

Robby and her met eyes. Then he shook his head. “Ok…” he walked towards a computer to file patient charting. “Oh, and one of the med students took a header,” he chuckled. “I parked her in the lounge under the guise of a work comp report. Will one of you go in there, eyeball her, and make sure she’s alright?” Robby asked, glancing over his shoulder to look at the nurses.

“Last time I checked, I have an eidetic memory and an IQ of 178,” Y/N replied, typing on the computer. “I don’t babysit med students.”

Robby turned to look at her. “Jack said you’re hiding something,” he said casually. “What are you hiding, Ace?” Then he raised a brow.

Y/N glanced at Dana. “My kinky sex life,” Y/N said with a smirk.

Dana snorted but didn’t miss a beat. “Yup. That’s exactly what she’s hiding. She’s got Jack handcuffed to the bed every other night. You should see the bruises.”

Y/N chuckled as Robby stared at them for a moment. “I’m kidding!” Y/N expressed. “Maybe on the handcuffing, but not on the kinky sex,” she added with a smirk. “Men with trauma, freakiest in town,” she replied with a smirk and a wink.

Robby just stared at her. “You deflecting adds to my hypothesis,” Robby muttered. “Abbot knows something’s up. I know some things up. Dana definitely knows what’s up.” Then his eyes landed on her. “You’re not planning on breaking up, right?”

Y/N’s eyes widened. “No!” she exclaimed. “God, if anyone would leave anyone, it’d be him. I am a whole wagon of problems,” she muttered.

Robby hummed. “Well, you deflecting is a sign. Secondly, Jack gave me this look this morning like he was ready to gut me with trauma shears, so whatever you’re hiding…he knows you’re hiding it, and he’s two seconds from losing his mind or figuring it out,” Robby muttered as he typed things into the computer. “Intelligent man.”

Dana hummed. “That’s what I said.”

Y/N turned in her chair to give them both an unimpressed look. “Do you know how exhausting it is to be this emotionally intelligent and book smart, responsible for lives, and handling interns, med students and residents who know less than me?” she poked.

Robby glanced over his shoulder and pointed a finger to her. “Deflection.”

Y/N rolled her eyes.

“I’m just saying. You were late. In the eight years you’ve been working here, you’ve never been late. You look pale, there are bags under your eyes, you’re quieter than usual, you didn’t jump into this morning’s trauma, and Jack is acting like some keyed his fancy truck.” He glanced at her and he chuckled. “I know…” he whispered, shaking his head. “Jack will either not forgive you or will…” Y/N raised a brow. “You’ve adopted another dog.”

Y/N stared at him and raised a brow. For a minute, it was silent as eyes were on her. “Yes. How’d you know?” she hummed.

“Knew it,” Robby muttered before going back to the computer.

“No. I didn’t adopt another dog,” Y/N said moments later.

“Delta chewed through the seaming of the couch?” Dana asked, looking over to the nurse. “She’s a menace.”

“That pup has the soul of a raccoon,” Robby added, clicking through patient charts. “Chaos and cuteness in the same package.”

“Keeps us on our toes. Never had I ever had to kennel train a dog as she is not worth trusting,” Y/N replied.

“Anyway,” Dana muttered, changing the subject, “med student is going to miss the arrival of the living dead.”

Robby glanced over at them again. “How many are we expecting?” he asked, voice serious now.

“We are getting three, but one died en route. Don’t know who’s luckier, us or them.”

“What’s open?” Robby asked.

“14,” Dana replied.

Y/N got up. “Good luck. I have patients to see,” she muttered, leaving the nurses’ station after Dana gave her a shift change.

Y/N was talking to Langdon about a patient, writing down notes as they talked about what she needed to do to care for them, when Robby showed up.

“Y/N, triathlete, Otis?”

Y/N glanced up. “He’s stable. Repeat potassium is 6.1. Renal wrote the dialysis order. Tech should be down soon…maybe fifteen minutes,” she told him.

Robby nodded, looking at her. “Good. Thank you.” Then he glanced over to Langdon. “Language mystery solved yet?”

Langdon shook his head. “No,” then he sighed before looking up. “Hey, what’s your take on dogs?”

“In what context?” Robby asked.

“For kids,” Langdon added.

“Kids and puppies go together like fish and chips. Man’s best friend, you know?” Robby said, walking around the station to go to one computer.

“Well, you don’t have a dog.”

“I don’t have a best friend,” Robby added.

“What am I?” Langdon hummed.

“You’re my best resident,” Robby replied. “Big difference.”

“Yeah, but we’re still friends,” Langdon poked.

Robby glanced over. “Not if this conversation goes on much longer. Talk to Y/N, she has dogs.”

Y/N’s head perked up from where she was sitting, looking over to Langdon and Robby. “What?” she asked.

“You have a dog?” Langdon asked, raising a brow.

“I have four,” she said with a chuckle.

“Four?” Langdon gasped, raising a brow. “Four dogs?” he asked again, shocked by her comment.

“Uh, yeah,” Y/N said with a chuckle.

“How can you have four dogs?” he asked, raising a brow.

Y/N glanced around for a moment, then turned slightly in her chair to face Langdon fully, amused. “Easy,” she said. “I don’t have kids. I don’t sleep much. And I live with a man who’s just as much of a softie for strays as I am. We also have a giant piece of land for them to run around and we enjoy being outside.”

Langdon blinked. “Jack’s a dog guy?”

Robby snorted but before they could respond, Mel came over asking for Langdon to check in with a four-year-old.

Y/N continued to type, but she could feel Robby’s eyes on her. “You’re staring,” she stated as she continued to type. “It’s creepy. Stop staring.” Then she glanced at him. Robby said nothing, and Y/N scoffed. “Robby,” she whispered, raising a brow.

He threw his hands up. “Good work, Ace,” he said with a smile as he went back to work.

Y/N was doing her job within the hour, checking on her patients when Otis began to crash. She ran back out to the nurses’ station, catching the eyes of Collins, Robby and Dana.

“Otis’ BP is crashing. 70 over 50. Still waiting for dialysis,” she announced, nodding to the room that her patient was in.

They entered and instantly got to work.

“How are you doing there, Otis?” Robby asked.

“Not so good,” he replied.

A series of beeping was heard from the machine as the patient crashed. Y/N began setting him up.

“50 litres. Non-rebreather, please,” Robby called out.

Y/N listened, working alongside them. An ultrasound was done.

“Fuck,” Y/N muttered, looking over at the ultrasound. “Diastolic collapse of the right atrium and right ventricle,” she muttered before Collins could say anything on the screen.

“Tamponade from uremic effusion,” Robby muttered.

“That is why his BP is low?” Santos asked, glancing over to the monitors.

“Yup, indeed,” Y/N replied. “Too much fluid and pressure around the heart, chambers can’t fill.”

“Otis, you’ve got some fluid around your heart,” Robby told the patient as Y/N grabbed gloves. “We need to get it off.”

Y/N lowered the bed, making him flat lying down.

“25 of Propofol, 10 cc’s of lidocaine with epi, pericardiocentesis tray,” Collins said to Y/N, who nodded.

“I have to get that from central,” Y/N replied, looking over to Robby.

“No, no. Just open a central line kit. Dr. Santos takes the head of the bed and bags him if he stops breathing, compressions if we lose the carotid. Prep and drape the subxiphoid, please. 10 cc’s of 1% with,” Robby ordered.

Y/N nodded, grabbing supplies.

“Chlorhexidine here.”

“Injecting lidocaine,” Robby announced before following suite.

“Pressure down. 60 over 40,” Santos explained.

Robby grabbed the ultrasound from Collins.

“Wait, you can’t ultrasound and place,” Collins barked to him.

“I know, that’s why I’m taking the probe,” Robby replied. “18-gauge thin wall on a 60 cc syringe, please, Dr. Collins. Let’s go,” Robby muttered, looking over to the resident. “You’re going in right over the centre of my probe…” The doctors continued to work as Robby explained the procedure to Collins. Y/N watched.

Eventually, the patient stabilised.

However, just before they were stabilised, Y/N ran to the bathroom. Robby watched her cover her mouth and instantly ran out of the trauma room, running across the bay to the bathroom. Dana watched her run as well, dodging co-workers before making her way to the bathroom.

Opening the door to the bathroom, she kneeled down to the toilet, puking her guts out. Breakfast sandwich and coffee coming back up as she clutched the toilet bowl.

The fluorescent lights buzzed softly above her as Y/N stayed crouched, one hand gripping the edge of the toilet, the other holding her hair out of her face as wave after wave of nausea rolled through her.

The bathroom door opened gently behind her. Soft footsteps. Not rushed. Familiar.

Dana.

Without saying a word, Dana stepped in and crouched down beside her, pulling a handful of paper towels, wetting them and placing them gently on Y/N’s back of her neck.

“Nausea meds didn’t help?” she asked, rubbing her back.

“Guess not,” Y/N muttered, coughing and wiping her mouth before leaning back against the wall. She took a deep breath, rubbing her eyes.

“Are you ok?” Dana asked, looking at her.

“I don’t know,” she whispered back. “I don’t know what set it off, as I was fine.”

Dana chuckled lowly. “It’s morning sickness, sweetheart, you can’t control when it hits. It’ll be fine. You’ll stop being sick soon at the end of this trimester,” she responded.

“If this baby stays within me,” Y/N mumbled, not thinking. “If I decide to keep it too.”

Dana rose a brow. “What does that mean, sweetheart?” she asked, looking at the young nurse.

Y/N sighed. “It’s not my first time getting pregnant. The other times, I’ve lost it early on,” then she groaned. “I think it’ll be better if I just get an abortion so I can’t go through losing it again.”

Dana’s expression softened, the sharp edges of her no-nonsense persona melting into something gentler. She reached over and cupped Y/N’s cheek for just a moment, grounding her.

“Sweetheart,” she said softly, “I’m sorry. I didn’t know.”

Tears began to brew in her ducts as she looked at the older woman, blinking them away, trying to hold herself together. “No one knows. No ex-partner. Not even Jack knows. Not even Beckett,” she whispered. Then she sighed. “I don’t know what will happen or not. I just…maybe it’s for the best to just get this dealt with and never tell him. But what if I do tell him and he gets so excited then I lose it. I don’t want to go through that again,” she continued to ramble. “I don’t want Jack to go through loss again.”

Dana sat beside her now, fully next to her, knees cracking slightly as she adjusted on the tile floor. “I get it. I do. But this isn’t something you should carry alone. Not this time.”

“I don’t want to see that look in his eyes,” Y/N whispered. “The quiet heartbreak. I know he would like kids. He says he’s too old, and he’s ok with my endo, but like I see the way he looks at his sister’s kids or like kids in general. Like he’s wondering what it would’ve been like if he hadn’t missed his shot.” She closed her eyes for a moment to breathe.

Dana was quiet for a moment before she said, “He loves you. Everything about you. Mess, chaos and all. Hope and heartbreak included. He’s your partner. Your other half. Talk to him. He deserves to know…not the decision, but the truth,” she told Y/N. “Go home. We will be fine without you today,” she suggested.

Y/N scoffed. “That’s the last place I want to be,” she replied.

“Let me cover for you for the next hour. Go lie down in on-call. I’ll say you’re charting or looking up labs.”

“Dana,” Y/N tried.

“Y/N,” Dana cut her off. “You just ran out of a trauma room and vomited into a toilet. You’re not fine. You’re a damn supernova most days with that brilliant brain of yours, but even stars burn out if they don’t rest,” she replied.

Before Y/N could reply, there was a sharp knock on the bathroom door.

“Y/N?”

Robby’s voice. Low. Concerned and filled with love.

She closed her eyes for a moment and took a breath, silence happening between them.

“She’s fine, Robby,” Dana called out.

A pause happened, then Robby replied, “I’m not leaving until I see that with my own eyes, Dana.”

Dana turned to Y/N. “You ok if I let him in?” she asked.

Y/N wiped her eyes quickly with the sleeve of her scrub top. “Yeah,” she whispered. “Might as well. He’ll probably come in–“

The door opened, and Robby walked in.

“My point exactly,” Y/N muttered, looking up to see the older male attending.

His eyes fell on Y/N instantly, crouched on the floor, pale and sweaty, but clearly alive. His concern deepened.

“Jesus, Y/N,” he whispered, crouching down beside her, not too close, scanning her face like he was memorising it for changes. “Scared the hell out of me.”

“Sorry,” she whispered. “Just a rough morning.”

His brows furrowed. “You ran out on a code. That’s not like you,” he muttered. “What’s happening? You sick?”

Y/N shook her head. “No, I’m fine.”

“Do you want me to call Jack?” he asked, voice dropping a little bit. A sympathy tone.

“No,” she said a little too bluntly. “I’m not fucking broken if that’s what you’re thinking. I’m fine. I can work. I just needed to puke. That’s all. I will take an anti-nausea and I’ll be fine. Do not call Jack,” she barked. “Do not even mention this to Jack. I’m not in the mood to deal with this,” she muttered, getting up.

Robby rose with her, slowly, watching every movement like he expected her to collapse again. “Y/N,” he said, carefully. “I didn’t mean–“

“I know what you meant,” she snapped, her tone sharp but her body trembling. She leaned against the sink for a moment, catching her breath. “But I don’t need saving.”

“No one said you did, sweetheart,” Dana replied gently, standing now, smoothing her hands down her scrubs. “We’re just worried.”

“Well, don’t be. I’ll be right,” Y/N responded as she looked at herself in the mirror. Her reflection betrayed her – pale skin, red-rimmed eyes, hair clinging to her damp forehead. “I’m not your patient. I’m your colleague. I’ll handle it.”

Robby raised a brow, stepping just a little closer. “If this is just a stomach bug or food poisoning, you’re really overreacting to the offer of help.”

Y/N glared at him through the mirror. “What are you saying?”

“I’m saying,” he replied, crossing his arms, and tilting his head, “I’ve known you for far too long. Eight years. You don’t run from a code. You don’t puke in your shift. I have never heard you take a sick day. You don’t bark at people who offer to call your partner unless something is really wrong.”

Silence.

Dana cleared her throat. “Robby,” she tried.

“No, it’s fine,” Y/N interrupted, voice strained. “There is something. But let me deal with it on my own.”

Robby sighed. “Y/N,” he tried.

“No. I’ll be right,” Y/N muttered. “I’m ok. I can work. I want to work. Honestly, the next trauma I’m jumping in as I haven’t gotten any blood on my hands yet today.” Robby and Dana slowly nodded. However, they stayed quiet. Y/N turned. “I don’t want to talk about it,” she responded. “Not with you. Or you,” she said, pointing to each of them, “definitely not Jack and definitely not even with myself.”

“Can you talk to Kiara?” Robby tried, raising a brow.

“Definitely not her,” Y/N barked. Both of them stayed quiet. “I love you all. I thank you for helping me. I thank you for your care. I thank you for your worry. I just need to deal with this on my own, and Jack will know eventually,” she said, voice softer now. Y/N’s eyes shifted between them. “Do not tell Jack, and if you do, I will make all your lives a personal hell,” she barked before turning to the door and walking out.

Robby glanced over to Dana once the door clicked shut behind her. “You know what this is, don’t you?” he asked, looking at his nurse.

Dana crossed her arms and levelled him with a look. “Not my secret to share.”

Robby sighed, running a hand down his face. “Dana,” he tried.

Dana snorted. “Do not try to get it out of me?” she warned, shaking her finger. “But she is going through something hard. Something she didn’t think was possible. And the fact that she’s still standing, still showing up, should tell you exactly the kind of woman she is.”

Robby leaned back against the bathroom wall, arms crossed tightly, staring at the door Y/N had just exited like it might swing back open and explain everything.

“She said Jack doesn’t even know,” he murmured.

Dana said nothing.

“She’s scared,” he added, quieter now. “Not panicked. Not sick. Not spiralling. Just…scared. Jack mentioned something was up with her this morning. He knows something is up.”

Dana looked over at him, rose a brow.

“Let me work the problem,” he muttered.

“She’s not your patient, Michael,” she said sternly.

He shook his head. “Just hear me out…humour me,” he said, holding his hand up as he began ticking off on his fingers. “Sudden nausea. She was late this morning. No fever. No reported GI outbreak in the hospital. She said she’s not sick. Ran out of trauma. Pale, lightheaded. Avoiding food. And her mood? All over the place.”

Dana was quiet, arms still crossed.

Robby held up both hands now. “And don’t even try to say stress, because Y/N thrives under pressure. She doesn’t run. She charges.”

Silence stretched between them like a wire pulled tight.

Then, he went softer. “Morning sickness. Hormonal shifts. Emotional volatility.” Robby looked over at Dana now, his voice lower. “She’s pregnant, isn’t she?”

Dana didn’t even flinch. “That’s not mine to confirm or deny,” she replied.

“But I’m right,” Robby replied.

“I did not say that,” Dana warned.

“You didn’t have to,” his voice wasn’t triumphant; it was heavy. Like the realisation carried more weight than he expected. “Excellent doctor, I am,” he hummed with a smile, winking.

“Don’t tell Jack,” Dana whispered, voice blunt.

“Lips are sealed,” he replied, giving her a salute before going back to the outside world of the emergency room. “I am correct, aren’t I?”

#jack abbot x reader #jack abbott x reader #michael robinavitch x reader #the pitt fanfiction #the pitt x reader

949 notes · View notes

thesquidgame · 6 months ago

Text

The Moments After

Hwang In-ho x wife!reader

Part One Part Two

Summary: In-ho deals with your sudden collapse while you receive treatment.

Warnings: angst, medical emergency, hospital, stitches, blood, viral infection, understaffed hospitals, trauma, violence

Word Count: 2.5k~

In-ho didn’t know how slowly time could pass before today. Sitting in the sterile white hallway of the hospital, bouncing his knee, staring down at his blood-soaked hands, every minute felt like hours. He always thought that was an exaggeration, but here, in this moment, he knew it to be true. Every now and then he would look up when he thought that at least half an hour had passed, only to find that it had been less than a minute.

After he had run you into the ER, chaos erupted. An entire medical staff instantly swarmed you, asking countless questions, all that he was almost too frazzled to answer. He told them only what he knew; that you had been acting strange lately, what strange behaviors you had, and that he woke up earlier that night to find you throwing up blood. And that you hadn’t stopped since you had started.

After that he could only focus on you, screaming your name over and over again as you blinked your eyes slowly, in a daze of blood loss and whatever had happened to you to make you throw up so much.

And then, the hand he didn’t even realize was gripping yours slipped away from his. A nurse held him back as they wheeled you into a deeper part of the hospital that he couldn’t enter. It was suddenly very quiet. Unlike the insanity that had just happened around him, there was complete and total stillness around him. He was far enough into the hospital that the noises of the ER were inaudible. In-ho never knew how quiet a hospital could be, but between the silence, the white walls, and the glacial pace of time, it felt like he was being tortured.

It had been an hour since he had arrived in the hospital, he only knew because of how often he glanced at the clock before any staff talked to him.

“Sir? Are your feet alright?” 5 AM, the time he knew the doctors changed shifts in your hospital. The man speaking was young and looked terrified by seeing a 40-year-old man covered in blood sitting in an empty hallway. “Are- are you okay?”

In-ho glanced down to see that tracks of blood were running from his feet. He just noticed the pain. He still didn’t care. “No, I need to know what’s happening to my wife?” He demanded as he stood up.

Shame washed over him. Why hadn’t he asked before? He knew the answer, he didn’t want to talk to anybody, that would make this real.

“Sir, I- I think you need to get some stitches first, your feet look-”

In-ho made the difference between him and the young doctor. He picked him up by the collar and slammed him against the wall. In-ho didn’t consider himself a violent man, but right now he had no idea what he was capable of.

“What happened to my wife.” He wasn’t asking, he was demanding.

“I- I think I need to treat your feet fi-” In-ho pushed him further into the wall.

The doctor gulped, “What- what’s her name?”

In-ho let go. “(Y/n) Hwang.”

“Nurse Hwang is your wife?” The doctor looked away.

“Yes.” In-ho had done countless trainings and interrogated countless criminals. He knew when someone was afraid of something. “Why are you looking away from me.”

The doctor started walking away, stammering, “If you come with me, I can help you find out what ha-”

“Don’t walk away from me. What aren’t you telling me.” The doctor stopped in his tracks.

When he turned around, In-ho saw tears on his cheeks. “I’m sorry. We- we didn’t know.”

In-ho stalked towards him, leaving almost no space between him and the younger man. “Didn’t know what.”

“We noticed she was acting strange. We thought- we thought it must just be stress.” He gulped, “and if it wasn’t,” he got quiet, “we didn’t know how to deal with it. We were all so stressed out all the time. We- we didn’t have any time or resources to step in or talk to her about it.”

They knew something was wrong with his wife, but they hadn’t done anything about it. In-ho wanted to grab the doctor and slam him against the wall. But he couldn’t. Hadn’t he done the same exact thing? Hadn’t he been too stressed to prod further about what was happening? In-ho thought that because you were a nurse, you would do something if you thought something was wrong, or talk to him about it. He was just as bad as them. No, he was worse. He was your husband. He was supposed to take care of you, that was what he had sworn to do on the best day of his life, your wedding day.

In-ho wanted to break down. He wanted to collapse and roll into a ball on the ground and cry. But he couldn’t. He didn’t know anything about your condition, he had to figure out what was happening, he had to do something.

In-ho croaked, “What happened to her?”

The doctor silently walked away, sensing what had just happened, and In-ho followed behind. “I’m going to see if anyone can come tell us what happened.” He pressed dials on a phone and called someone. “A doctor will be here soon. The surgery is almost over.”

Surgery? In-ho knew there was a reason that all of the doctors and nurses had rushed away and not come back, but hearing it was different than just simply knowing it.

“Can I look at the cuts on your feet?”

In-ho didn’t respond, just sat down in a chair and put his head in his hands.

It was another long wait before anyone came out to talk to In-ho, and eventually, a woman and a man came out wearing scrubs, “Mr. Hwang?”

In-ho stood up immediately, staring at the doctor who looked to be the same age as him. In-ho didn’t have to ask the question, the doctor already knew what he was waiting to hear. The other doctor sighed, “She’s alive.”

In-ho let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding. “My name is Dr. Park, would you like to take a seat?”

He didn’t like that. In-ho knew that tone of voice. He had used the same one at his job when he was giving bad news. “No, tell me now.”

The doctor reached up and took off his surgical cap. “Your wife had a large blood vessel in her esophagus explode, causing internal bleeding. We were able to help correct it using bands in surgery.” The doctor sighed again, as In-ho held his breath. “However, that isn’t the concerning part. There is almost always an underlying condition causing this. We sent a rush blood panel down and found that your wife’s liver results came back abnormal. We believe she has cirrhosis.”

Cirrhosis. He had only heard about this in passing when you were studying for your nursing exams. You had made a stack of notecards at least three feet tall, and he spent weeks quizzing you. In-ho had always had a good memory and was usually able to pick out pieces relating to the disease, but for some reason, he couldn’t remember anything relating to cirrhosis.

“What, what does this mean?” In-ho said, panic exuding through his voice.

“I’d like to talk further when your wife wakes up, it’s best if we discuss with the patient and the patient’s family there.”

In-ho wanted to was rush over and hit this doctor until he told him everything he wanted to know, but his priorities were still on you. He had to conserve his energy, and arguing with the doctor would only take more energy than he had to waste. “Can I see her?”

“Yes, she’s right this way.” This doctor said nothing about the blood In-ho was leaving on the floor. He had been doing this a lot longer than the other one and knew that stitches were the least important thing in In-ho’s mind at this point.

You were lying in the bed, still unconscious from surgery. “We were able to go in laparoscopically, meaning that we put a tube down her throat and operated from there.”

In-ho didn’t care about what that meant, he just rushed to your side and grabbed one of your hands in both of his. Your hands felt cold and clammy, and he looked to your side to see that there was a blood bag attached to your arm next to another one giving you other fluids.

“Is there anyone we can call for you? You were listed as her emergency contact, so we weren’t sure if you had any family you’d like us to call.” The nurse waiting next to Dr. Park asked.

In-ho didn’t pause, “Yes, my brother.” He realized that he had left his phone in your apartment in his rush to get you to the hospital. He quickly gave Jun-ho’s number and went back to directing his complete and full attention at you.

In a couple of minutes, the young doctor from before came into the room pushing a small metal cart. “Mr. Hwang, can I quickly treat your foot wounds? You won’t have to leave her side. It’s best to do it now so you won’t have to leave her side later if it gets worse.”

In-ho didn’t move, and the doctor took it as a sign to continue. The younger doctor had clearly been lectured on what best to say to the loved one of an injured person. He painstakingly pulled glass piece after glass piece out of In-ho’s foot, washed each cut carefully, and then stitched up each one. He was in miserable pain, but In-ho didn’t move. It was a small dosage of the punishment he deserved for ignoring your illness.

The doctor silently left after he was finished wrapping the wounds, and In-ho continued the self-inflicted torture he put himself through inside his head.

The door burst open, and Jun-ho rushed inside, a nurse hot on his heels. “Sir, you can’t be in here! It’s not visiting hours.”

“It’s 6:45, visiting hours start in 15 minutes,” Jun-ho said, ignoring her further protests to run forward and kneel next to his brother. “In-ho, are you alright? What happened? They wouldn’t tell me anything on the phone.”

“She’s sick. She’s really sick.” In-ho said.

Jun-ho’s face was shocked. “What are you talking about? How long has this been going on?”

“I don’t know. I- I knew something was wrong, but I didn’t think it could be this.” He paused, taking a deep breath, “she had to have surgery. She started…” In-ho shuddered, “she started throwing up blood earlier this morning, and I had to drive her to the hospital.”

Jun-ho didn’t know what to do, or say. His brother was glued to your side, so he couldn’t hug him. They had been through something slightly similar when Jun-ho was 8 and their father had died, but past it both being sick family members, everything else was different. In-ho was 20 when their dad died, and he was the one comforting Jun-ho. Now it was Jun-ho’s turn, and he had no idea how to do it.

This was his wife. The reason In-ho got out of bed in the morning; you were his entire life. Your wedding date was his passcode, and his lock screen was you on the day you graduated nursing school.

“In-ho, I’m so sorry. I don’t know what to say. Do they know what it is?”

In-ho squeezed your hand tighter, “I don’t know the details, but it’s something with her liver. It’s… It’s bad Jun-ho.”

There was nothing else for Jun-ho to say. No band-aid that could fix it, not call to anyone to change it. He sat down next to his brother, and like In-ho, waited.

It was only a couple of hours before you woke up, dazed and blinking slowly. Your eyes immediately moved towards the man holding your hand, “In-ho?”

Your voice hurt to speak, it felt like there were rusty nails in your windpipe.

“Hey, hey, it’s alright.” In-ho surged toward you, beginning to stroke your hair with his hand.

“What- what happened?” You saw In-ho’s brother push a button next to your bed.

“What do you remember?” He said, slowly and soothingly.

“I remember feeling sick, and getting up to throw up, and- and that’s it.” You said, blinking in confusion.

In-ho looked like he started to say something before a doctor and a nurse walked into the room, both of them being people you had worked with before. Dr. Park was the nicest doctor in the hospital you thought. He was a man of few words and never sugarcoated anything, but he always took care of his patients' needs. The nurse was a new hire, she was one that you always covered for, and there was a strange expression on her face.

“Ms. Hwang, I’m glad you're awake.” He said, pulling a stool forward that had been in the corner of the room.

“My husband was just about to tell me what happened.” You said, still confused at what was happening. You looked up at In-ho, and there was a look of sheer terror on his face, confusing you even further. “Honey, what’s wrong?”

He did his best to wipe that look off his face, but it didn’t really work, “nothing, I just want to hear what the doctor has to say.”

Dr. Park took a deep breath, before explaining something that would change your life forever. “Ms. Hwang, your husband brought you in early this morning after you threw up blood. He told us that you had been having some odd symptoms, and frankly, some of the staff were able to recount some for me as well. We did some blood work, and noticed some unusual things.” You held your breath. “The first thing we noticed, was that you tested positive for Hepatitis C, do you have any knowledge of this?”

You and In-ho were both shocked, “no, I- I had no idea.”

Dr. Park sighed again, a sound that was quickly becoming foreboding, “Do you have any past use of drugs, any knowledge of any family members carrying the virus, or any contact with used needles.”

And then it hit you, “Yes. When I was in my first month as a nurse I got stuck with a used needle. My boss- my boss told me that it happened to everyone at some time or another and that we were busy and had to move on.”

In-ho looked at you horrified, “Honey, what does the disease do?” He whispered, addressing you and not the doctor.

But Dr. Park cut in, “It’s a virus that can go away on its own, but other times it can stay in the body symptom-free for decades before showing harmful symptoms. It’s unlikely to be transmitted through sex, but you should get tested as well.”

While the doctor was speaking, the pieces connected in your head. Hepatitis C, vomiting up blood, the symptoms you thought were nothing. “My liver is failing, isn’t it.”

The four other people in the room turned to you. The look on In-ho’s face killed you, so you had to look away and move your glance to Dr. Park.

He stared you in the eyes, and said, “Yes, it is.”

I'm taking a break from the series, I'll probably write part three after my next fic!

Tags: @bigdaddddyyyyy @kimeungun114 @eviesmoon @jspidey5 @kyl13sm1l3y @watasinekoru @starkeyszn @multifandomgirllol @annasnape7 @sylviavf @foulbreadpaenut @unaaasz @vrystalius @ultimate-simp-10

504 notes · View notes

baronessvonglitter · 3 months ago

Note

I’m having a really rough day and the only thing that will make me feel better is a story about Joel tying me up and devouring my 🐱🐱 for an hour until I’m happy again.

I’m sorry is that too much 🤣😭

I was very happy to step up to this challenge! Hope your day got so much better, hon! 🩷

kiss it better

joel miller x f!reader | wc: 1K

summary: after an awful day, you turn to Joel for help to de-stress

WARNINGS: 18+ Only! Explicit. Light D/s tones. Soft dom!Joel. Reader is tied up at her request, so.. subby reader? ❤️Joel is a cunning linguist (aka f receiving) 😏Pussy pronouns. Fingering. Squirting. Also Joel comes in his pants because I said so. Reader is not much described besides female anatomy. No use of y/n EVER and not beta read because I live dangerously. If I've missed anything please LMK!

a/n: still gonna add a fun fact to this request! Hi, I'm Adriana and I cannot play video games because I will get addicted to them 😞

Please enjoy this, Anon, I wish I could have written it sooner for you 🌹

dividers by @sweetmelodygraphics 👑

JOEL MILLER MASTERLIST | FULL MASTERLIST

"Had a bad day, huh?" Joel's deep voice sends a thrill through you as he stands at the headboard of his bed, expertly yet softly tying your hand to the bedpost in a black silk scarf. He tests to make sure it's not too tight, and when he asks you tell him it's perfect. Satisfied, he goes to the other side, pressing a kiss to the inside of your wrist before securing that one as well with another scarf.

"Need me to kiss it all better?" he asks, and you tell him yes because words are important, and he only has you like this when you really need to give over your power.

You're spreadeagle on his bed, naked, your wrists tied as per your request to Joel. He's played out this scenario with you a few times before, and he was more than happy to fulfill your need once again when you showed up on his doorstep after an agonizing day.

His bare hands smooth back your hair, caress the curve of your cheeks, and stop teasingly upon your lips before gliding down over the hollow of your throat and in beteween your breasts where his palm rests a moment, feeling the beat of your heart.

Now he moves slower, his touch more calculated as he cups the heft of each breast, giving each a good squeeze before flicking his tongue against your nipples, the flat of his palm on your torso to keep you still as you writhe under him. He knows you can come from just sucking on your nipples, but today you need something stronger than instant gratification, and his mouth is already watering at the thought of getting to taste you.

Your belly trembles, your cunt already constricting around empty air as his hands and lips travel south, pressing soft kisses into your skin, worshipping the curve of your hips

"Lift up them pretty legs," he softly orders you, his eyes hungrily taking in the sight of your wet core as you lift your knees, thighs spread apart exactly as he likes them. You're sopping wet already, your sweet and musky aroma greeting his nostrils. "Cryin' already," he murmurs. "You're havin' the shitty day and she's the one with the tears."

You muffle a giggle at his rare show of playfulness.

"Into each life a little rain must fall," he continues, thumbing your folds with the rough pads of his calloused thumbs. Your viscous slick is thick, more pouring out as he spreads you open. His eyes look up to meet yours. "Ever heard that song before? It's an oldie, so probably not," he says, so conversationally as though he's not in between your thighs, spreading your pussy juices all over your mound.

"I like when you're hydrated," he says softly, as if to himself, and gives a kitten lick to your clit, smoothing your thighs when they start to shake.

"Easy, now," he murmurs, sitting up to take off his shirt, leaving his jeans on, the top button undone just enough for his paunch to be free. You want to rub your hand across that little belly, feel the kitten-soft hair that rests on it and have his erect cock tap your hand when he's fully ready for you. But right now it's about you, not him.

Your hips lift off the bed and a sweet moan flies from your lips as he dives in, tongue roving languidly over your cunt. He laps up your nectar, wiggling his tongue into every nook and cranny, then stopping to press soft kisses to the insides of your thighs, edging you.

"Joel," you whine. He puts your knees over his shoulders, large hands cupping your ass. There's a pillow beneath you to keep you at an angle so he won't hurt his neck giving you head. Last time he had a crick for a week, and he plans on being down here for awhile.

"Patience," he soothes you, his kisses now on the crease between your thigh and your pussy, taking in your scent. "Got all night, don't we?" His own body is desperate for release, his cock rock hard, straining against the denim of his Wrangler jeans. He's humping the mattress as he eats you out, needing to relieve the ache building up inside.

Time seems to still as he goes back to devouring you, using the flat of his tongue to lap up every drop and the pointed tip of his tongue to tickle your clit. He leaves you guessing at every turn, fucking you with his tongue and suctioning his lips around your clit, keeping your orgasm out of reach until he feels you're ready, despite your pleadings, your bound hands clawing at nothing.

"We're not through until ya soak me," he grumbles. "Wanna be able to smell this cunt in my mustache for days." With that, he gently inserts two fingers, softly curving them, tickling that spongy part deep inside that makes you forget your own damn name.

"Fuck! Joel!" Your thighs threaten to constrict him, your back arches, offering all of yourself. You lose yourself in the sweet pleasure, gasping and sighing, calling out his name as his skilled tongue licks a wide stripe across your drenched cunt. He delves inside of you, tasting you like he needs it to survive, all while his fingers pump into you steadily.

"You taste so good.. I could do this all night."

All the warmth that has been gathering in your core now threatens to spill over, and your eyes go wide when you realize what's about to happen. "Joel! Joel, wait.. I think I have to pee!"

He lifts his head, an amused little smile on his lips. "Nah, baby, you're gonna squirt, and I want you to do it. Come for me.."

You're powerless to stop the huge wave of pleasure that engulfs you, your muscles tensing right before you squirt, the warm liquid gushing out, covering the sheets, covering Joel, who stays where he is, continuing to finger you through your climax as you pulse and choke his fingers.

You come down at last to view the aftermath: a soaked bed, and Joel pulling off his jeans, his cock now softening. You made him come in his jeans.

"Better, baby?" he asks, concerned with you before himself.

"Well.. it was a really bad day." Your eyes glisten with mischief, matching the glint in Joel's. "I might need another round."

no pressure tagging some joel babes: @itwasntimethatdidit40 @joelmillerisapunk @tateypots @probablyreadinsmut @joelalorian @joelmillerswife9

@evolnoomym @cxrsed-angel @mrs-hardy-hunnam-butler-pascal

@letsgobarbs @everybodylovedcontractors @milla-frenchy @aurorawritestoescape @untamedheart81 @la-vie-est-une-fleur29 @sunshinehaze1 @604to647

@rav3n-pascal22 @axshadows @inept-the-magnificent @ohhoneypascal and probably others, forgive my goldfish brain

#joel miller fanfic #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller smut #joel miller #joel miller tlou #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller fic #joel miller fan fiction #soft dom!joel #subby!reader #pedro pascal characters #ppcu #ppcu fanfiction #ppcu fandom #ppcu fics #pedro pascal cinematic universe #anon request

310 notes · View notes

stefanmikaleson1864 · 3 months ago

Text

Just a little Touch

A/N: Please Bear with me y'all this is my first one in a while so im getting my feet wet again i really hope you all like it and enjoy it ! :)

Tag: @lostinfandoms-butitsokay

Frank Langdon X Reader

Y/N’s POV

Working as a paramedic was something that was kind of sprung on you. You weren’t really sure what you wanted to do with your life.

Then one day while you were stuck at community college you stumbled in a job fair.

Your now cap was there and he called you over.

He didn’t have a lot of people at his table and he told you he wanted to look like he was being cool and had a following which made you laugh.

He had a table full of medical supplies and fire equipment. It drew you in right away.

You guys talked for what seemed like hours and it really intrigued you. The thought of being to help someone else in their worst moments. Trying everything you can to make it a little more better.

You loved your work family they had quickly become more than just a work family and more like a regular family.

They were there for you in every important moment and even every hard moment.

They always gave you the best advice to and some of it you took and some of it you ignored.

Like one of the pieces you ignored was to not get involved with the Dr’s and the workers in the Emergency rooms. The people you worked with everyday.

The day you walked into the ER and saw a bright eye brown haired intern on his very first day you knew it was going to be all over for you then. He looked like someone who belonged on TV and not the ER.

He was running around like a chicken with his head cut off. He looked sheet white and he couldn’t make heads or tails of anything. You couldn;t help but just sit there and watch him your eyes were just glued.

He looked over at you and saw you watching him and smirked over at you

. Damn you got caught is what you immediately thought. When he walked over to you, your stomach felt like a damn zoo it was rumbling all around.

He walked over and walked right over to your face and just stood right there and followed your eyes with his.

He just smiled up at you and your cheeks were bloodshot red. You wanted to just run away but your feet were glued to the ground.

“Hi I’m Frank and who are you” He asked in a cocky voice.

“I’m Y/N nice to meet you mmm let me guess your the new nurse” You said trying to get under skin.

Which it clearly worked because he looked slightly annoyed at you.

“And you, your cleary the new house maid” He said looking up and down at your obvious Paramedic Uniform.

“I clean up nice but no sadly not the house maid nothing against one of the backbones of the hospital” You said smiling.

“How nice do you clean up” Frank said in a amusing tone.

“Wouldn’t you like to find out pretty boy” You said snapping back.

“Maybe I would” he said giving you a sly smile.

That conversation was 4 years ago time really does have a crazy way of flying by so fast. By the end of both your crazy long shift that day he asked you out to celebrate his first day which you gladly accepted.

It was a instant connection between the two of you. Everything just made sense and the world had a way of just standing still when you were with him.

He asked you to marry him a year to the date of you two meeting.

The bar he rented out and he decorated it and played nothing but your favorite songs he really had a romantic side one that he kept hidden from others.

Working together most people would have found it hard and stressful considering the high stakes jobs the two of you had.

But you guys were like a machine what happened at work stayed there and you guys could always check in on each other throughout the day.

Which helped more than you both knew. It would always give you that check back in that moment of i can breathe again.

That’s not to say it could just as much take you away from your work to.

The way you both worried about each other when it was extra hard. A day like today which at first seemed like a normal day.

But you knew you should never think like that before. It was ending your shift and you were ready to go home.

You were tired and you wanted nothing but take out and to take a long bath maybe alone maybe with your husband if you were nice.

But life had other plans when you got a mass alert there was a shooter at the pitt fest. Everyone knew then it was all hand on deck and one hell of a night.

You went straight into work mode not thinking about anything else just clearing your head and putting your entire energy into that call.

You and your partner had worked together for years so you knew you knew you had a good support to help.

Once you reached there it was a disaster. Fans screaming and running and workers everywhere.

The other first responders took off full steam ahead. You just dove in feet first.

Hours had passed and you didn’t realize it. You were up to your knees in traumas and just soaked in blood.

Other ambulances had gone to transport but you all stayed on the scene. Knowing you were needed there.

You didn’t even get a moment to step away and breathe; it was just like an assembly line. One after another, an end not in sight you thought.

****

Frank’s day was hectic from the start. With a new batch of interns and a med students

. He was busy with the non stop hectic life of the ER. He did get to see you twice today which made it easier.

He always loved the sight of you the slight touch of his arm or even being able to lay eyes on you was plenty good enough for him.

His day was also winding down to a close and he was grateful. His headspace was pretty much the same as yours a nice easy relaxing night.

But then just like that fate stepped in and crushed it.

When he heard about the incoming Mass casualty event his first thought was why, and how where they going to keep up.

But once those thoughts went away he thought about you.

He knew you were going to be there of course you were. It was your job but still the pit of his stomach couldn’t settle and his nerves felt like it was going to burst out of every part of his body.

He took a moment while everyone was getting ready to step into the quiet of the breakroom.

He got some coffee and sat down. He pulled out his phone buzzing already with the news of what happened.

Nothing from you which made him even more worried. He pulled up your name and sent a “ I love you” simple but with all the heart and love behind it.

Before he put his phone away he just looked at a picture of the two of you. It was his lock screen and it was taken at the beach.

The two of you that you made him take glowing in the sun and not a care in the world. He would give anything to be there with you in that moment.

Just as he put his phone away the first trauma rolled through and he quickly got up like a solider heading into battle.

Just like your night hours had gone by but unlike you he noticed. He kept looking over at the door and just hoped and prayed he would get a quick look at you.

But nothing and every hour that had gone by he felt more and more anxious and sick.

His co workers noticed and they wanted nothing more than to comfort him but they couldn’t right now and they all wanted to , they all wanted to check in with their families but they also knew his situation was different.

They knew you were in an active dangerous situation right where the shooter was.

They couldn’t even begin to imagine the extra burden to carry along with everything else they were already dealing with.

Frank was in between at the patients at the moment. Just got done with one and was headed over to the next one.

He took the moment to step around with the hopes he would catch you or at least anyone who worked with you.

He walked all around the ER and couldn't even make it outside without being called back by someone. He was hopeful everytime he did his laps.

But nothing and the pitt in his stomach just kept growing and the tiny little fire in his brain and he couldn’t put it out.

He just wanted to run to the locker room and grab his stuff and go to you. Every muscle in his body was pushing and pulling him that way.

DR Robby just happened to look up at the young resident. He wanted nothing to go over there and comfort him. He was running all around sweat dripping.

He was also shaking a little dog who got caught in the rain

Franks face was also showing everything he was feeling. Fear, Sadness, Loss and worried shitless.

He knew nothing he would say would make this better though and that’s what killed him. He was supposed to the person everyone could rely on.

He also even debated on sending him home but he could't it was rude it was wrong but he needed the help he could't afford to loose him.

The best thing he thought was the power of distraction it was the only weapon he had.

“Frank we got a incoming over here he’s got a GSW to the chest, bleeding and he’s gonna need a crank you got it” Robby yelled out.

Frank shook his head a moment and then looked over at robby and just shook his head yes and dove right into the patient.

Frank knew though that no news was also the best news. That if you weren’t being rolled in here on a stretcher or he wasn’t being pulled aside by a man in a white collar shirt you were okay.

That’s what he told himself that’s the only thing that was given him a tiny piece of comfort.

He desperately right now just craved your touch. He would give anything to hear your voice in the hall with a upcoming trauma.

A touch of the arm to let him you were there.

He pushed all that down that for the moment. His patients needed him, his team needed him and he needed the best possible DR for them.

Frank tried he really did, he though the was doing an okay job at hiding everything.

He was knee deep into patients and he just went one after another. But now it was gearing towards the end.

The fire in his brain though it just kept growing along with the pitt in his stomach. It felt like it was over taking him. Like he couldn’t breathe.

The weight was just to much for the young resident to bare and he didn’t know how he was going to keep from breaking.

They finally said no more traumas and everyone felt like they could finally breathe for the first time since the shift began.

Frank was sitting at the Nurses station his head in his arms just needing to close his eyes for a moment.

He didn’t even notice Dana had walked over and placed a hand on his back and started rubbing small circles on his back.

“Hey you okay need to sit down a sandwich maybe” Dana asked in her usual mothering tone.

“No No im good” Frank said. Not even being able to lift his head up the thought seemed like it might kill him at the moment.

Dana walked in front of him and she knew what was really going on but she didn’t wanna bring it up and upset him.

She knew he just needed a moment and he would be okay. Of course he would and you would be to.

“Hey why don’t you get some fresh air Nurses orders” She said smiling at him and gently pushing him off the nurses station.

He took the hint and got up taking him arms and stretching them behind his head. He just sighed and walked away she was right he always was.

He walked out and didn’t say anything to anyone. It felt like the weight of the world was on his shoulders

. At one point he didn’t even know if he was going to make it outside.

Once he did the fresh air felt amazing. Just being able to feel the fresh air in his lungs and his skin was free was from the hospitals cold demeanor.

He sat down on the bench his feet were crying out in pain. He didn’t even care though, he just kept scanning the parking lot.

Every time a ambulance pulled up and it wasn’t you it was like someone was taking his heart and stomping all over it.

He kept checking his phone to. Nothing which now was getting him worried.

No more traumas no more cases why couldn’t you have taken a moment to text or call. So he took the initiative and called and of course nothing.

He didn’t even notice his hands were shaking until he brought down the phone from his face.

He felt a overwhelming simulation in his body and he just had to get up and walk around. His whole body was just shaking and he couldn’t stop it.

Everyone around him was just passing him by all running on nothing if it was any other day the strangers outside would have stopped him but today it looked normal.

He couldn’t even take it anymore it was just thoughts and thoughts passing through his brain. Certainly the worst had happened and they were backed up in letting him know.

He thought about what he wanted to say to you one more time. He loved you,

he was grateful for you. He wanted to smell your signature scent, he wanted to kiss you softly and even hard.

Running all around he thought he was going to pass out he could feel it.

His knees were shaky and he couldn’t breathe and he was still shaking all over

. He had no choice but to just sit on the ground and try and center himself.

His head was in his lap and he was just self soothing at this point. The noises around him had gone silent.

When suddenly a warm familiar hand touched him. It instantly pulled him back to earth and he didn’t even need to look up and see who it was.

He lifted his head up so fast he stood immediately on his feet. His blue eyes matching yours and he couldn’t even control the weight of his body.

He just grabbed on to you and pulled you in tight. He didn’t say a word he barely looked at you. He crushed you but you either could care less.

For the first time in 4 hours he took his first breath all nigh and god it felt good.

“I love you , I love you”. Was all Frank kept saying it was all he could get out.

God he needed this , God he needed you

Y/N POV

God the night was a absolute mess.

No matter what you did you couldn’t even take a moment to process everything that was happening.

It was like you were in override mode. You thanked god for adrenaline because otherwise you would be dead right now.

You were assigned to stay on the ground it was all hands there. There was some ambulances

That was taking patients but there was an overflow of people who could be treated and the scene was too unstable to move right away.

The hours were long but fast it felt like they were also just flying by to. You thought about Frank nonstop.

You were wondering how he was handling the Pitt. You knew the trauma he was dealing with and you needed him so damn bad.

Just to be able to hear his voice and to touch him. Your body longed for him and it was like you were missing a big part of yourself.

Finally after 4 hours of being there you all were released to go. You asked for your partner to drop you off at the hospital.

Your anxiety through the roof the whole time. Not knowing how frank would be.

When the ambo pulled up you saw him sitting on the ground shaking and your entire heart broke.

You barely came to a complete stop when you opened up the door and ran out.

You ran over to him placing a hand on his arm. He didn’t even look up he just jumped so fast which scared you a bit but then he pulled you in tight.

He was holding you so close that if he let go you were going to be gone.

You didn’t say anything though you both needed it so you nestled right back into him.

The strong scent of the hospital just laid all over him like a coat and it usually bothered you but today it didn’t.

You both stayed like that for a while.

When you pulled apart he didn’t waste any time before he leaned in and kissed you hard.

You felt the butterflies entering your stomach for the first time all day you felt at peace.

After the kiss broke you placed your hand on his face. And he leaned into it

“Hey come on let’s go home im starved and i need a long bath” You said.

“How about Chinese and we soak and eat at the same damn time” He said

“There is no where else I would rather be” You said.

You walked into the parking lot over to his car and waited for him to gather his stuff and come out.

When he did he ran over to the car like he was afraid he was going to be dragged back in.

You both got in and he instantly grabbed your hand and squeezed it. He speed off fast and you melted into the seat closing your eyes.

His touch soothed you so much the one you craved all day was finally here. God you loved him and you were so grateful on nights like these you had him.

He thought was thinking the same damn thoughts about you. How lucky was he to have you by his side days like this he needed his best friend.

You both knew how lucky you were to be going home together to be able to say those words to feel this moment.

#frank langdon #the pitt #pitt hbo #pitt max #frank langdon x reader #dr. frank langdon x you #the pitt x you #the pitt x reader #michael robinavitch #dana evans #patrick ball

255 notes · View notes