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enbyscript · 22 days ago

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Trapped Chapt. 4/4 Tags: Anal Sex, Anal Fingering, Light Dom/Sub, Bottom!Reader, Top!Harry Wilson, Sub!Harry Wilson, Dom!Reader Kissing, Praise Kink, Pet names: Honey, Baby, Good Boy, Missionary Sex Summary: You and Harry finally cross the line completely into a new, unexplored territory. One that both of you can't wait to explore more. WC: 3.4k a/n: Sorry if this is garbage yet again. I restarted this about 15 times before settling with this. I've stared at this for 2 weeks, I'm tired of looking at this, trying to make it perfect. So I hope you enjoy this last chapter. Also, I don't know if it's canon how long Harry hasn't been with his ex-wife, I'm literally only on the finale of the first season still.

You and Harry had been so wrapped up in the moment, the heat between you indescribable as you continued to make out in the car, that you didn't notice Sophie and Breanna talking to you over the comms, that the file you had risked to obtain was just a decoy, and that there would have to be a meeting about finding the real file. But you and Harry just turned off comms soon after the first kiss.

You knew you couldn't return to HQ, not like this, not with the others waiting for you. So you took a deep breath and made an even bolder move.

“Do you want to come to mine?” You whisper the invitation into Harry's ear; his eyes search yours for a brief moment. His nod was all the answer you needed, a silent agreement that the night was far from over. With a thrill racing through your body, you pulled back slightly, both of you breathing heavily. The air in the car was thick with desire and anticipation.

Leaning forward, you get the attention of the driver and give him your address. As the car traveled through the streets. Harry’s hand found yours, lacing fingers together, and gave it a gentle squeeze.

As the car glides through the city, you catch a glimpse of yourself and Harry in the reflection on the window. Your faces are flushed, your lips swollen from the intensity of your shared intimacy.

Rubbing the back of his neck, Harry breaks the silence, his voice rough and low. "I, uh... I should probably let you know something."

You turn to face him, your curiosity piqued. "What is it?" you ask, your thumb absentmindedly drawing small circles on the back of his hand.

Harry takes a deep breath, a look of vulnerability crossing his features. "It's been a while since I've been with someone like this," he admits quietly. "I mean, since my ex-wife."

You can tell he's feeling a little self-conscious about it, and the confession surprises you slightly. You know how attractive Harry is; it's hard to believe it's been so long since he's been with anyone.

"How long has it been?" you ask, your curiosity getting the better of you. You squeeze his hand gently, a silent gesture of reassurance.

Harry lets out a huff, a small, wry smile playing on his lips. "A couple of years," he admits, a hint of embarrassment coloring his voice. "I guess I just... I don't know; I haven't found anyone worth the trouble since then."

He turns to look at you, his gaze searching your face as if trying to gauge your reaction.

You meet his gaze steadily, your thumb still tracing comforting circles in his skin. A small smile plays at the corners of your lips as you ask him softly, "So, I take it I'm worth the trouble?"

Harry stares at you for a moment, his eyes roaming over your face before he lets out a low scoff. "You have no idea," he mutters, his voice edged with amusement.

Finally, the car pulls up to the well-lit apartment complex. You step out onto the pavement, the cool evening air kissing your cheeks as Harry follows, his eyes taking in the surroundings with curiosity. You thank the driver and begin to lead Harry down the pathway to your apartment.

Once inside, the soft glow of lamplight bathed the space in a warm, inviting light. The faint scent of candles you had lit earlier lingered in the air. You step aside, allowing Harry to enter first, and close the door behind you, the click echoing in the quiet hallway.

You kick off your shoes by the door. "Make yourself at home," you offer with a smile, gesturing towards the living room. "Would you like anything to drink? Beer? Soda? Water?”

Harry looks around the apartment, taking in the cozy living room and kitchen as he slips off his shoes. The place is comfortable, with a warm, lived-in feel. He turns to you when you offer him a drink, a small smile playing on his lips. "A beer sounds great," he says, nodding.

"Nice place you have here," he comments, glancing around; the decorations felt distinctly you.

“Thanks,” You smile as you return to the living room; you hand him the beer. "Cheers," you said, twisting off the cap of your own. The sound echoed in the room. He took the beer with a murmur of thanks, his grip firm around the cool neck of the bottle. You both settle into the couch, the cushions sighing beneath your weight as you sink into them.

You take a sip; the beer is cool and crisp, the bubbles dancing on your tongue. You feel the tension of the day start to melt away. Harry mirrors your action, his eyes closing briefly in satisfaction as he savors the taste. The way he looks at you, his eyes lingering just a little longer than they should, tells you he’s feeling something too. You lean back into the couch, watching as he takes a sip, his throat bobbing as he swallows.

You can’t help but let your gaze drift over him, taking in the way his suit, which he still has on from the con albeit the tie is missing, wraps around his broad shoulders. Your hand moves to your bottle, but instead of taking a drink, you play with the label, peeling it slightly at the corner.

"Thanks for this," he murmurs, setting the bottle down on the coffee table with a soft clink. "It's been a long day."

Your voice is a low rumble in response, "Yeah, it has."

You both know where this is heading, the air charged with an undeniable attraction that you've been dancing around for hours. It's making it hard for you to think straight. You lean in, close enough that your breath mingles with his, and whisper, "You know, Harry, I think we both need to unwind."

He meets your gaze, his eyes darkening with desire. He shifts closer to you, his hand landing on your thigh, testing the waters. "How do you suggest we do that?" he asks, his voice a bit timid and nervous.

"Well," you begin, your voice husky with lust, "I was thinking maybe we could start in the bedroom. Is that something you wanna do?" You continue to ask him if he is okay with everything.

“Yeah, that sounds good. Please.” He grins at you; his eyes sparkle from the way the lamplight reflects off of them.

Once in the bedroom, Harry's nervousness is noticeable, his hands slightly trembling as he helps you remove his shirt. You notice the apprehension in his eyes, but it only makes you want to reassure him, to show him how much you want him.

"It's okay," you whisper, tracing your fingertips gently over his bare chest; a light dusting of body hair covers his torso. "We can take this as slow as you want." Harry's breath hitches as you touch his chest. He nods, his nerves slowly beginning to ease under your touch.

He swallows hard, his voice gruff. "I just... It's been a while," he admits almost as if he's apologizing, his gaze flickering down to your hand on his chest before meeting your eyes again. "But I want this."

"Hey, no apologizing, you are fine, Harry.” You look into his eyes before pecking his lips with your mouth. You start to remove your clothes as well so he’s not alone, leaving you in your underwear.

“You're so handsome," Harry murmurs, his eyes traveling over your body. You blush under his gaze, feeling a thrill of excitement at his words. "I want to touch you," he says, his voice thick with desire.

"Then do," you encourage, your voice equally as husky. Harry's hand moves to cup your neck, his thumb stroking gently along your jawline before he leans in for another kiss. His touch is tender and exploratory, as if he's trying to memorize every inch of your skin.

You help Harry onto the bed, pushing him down onto his back, your body hovering over his. He looks up at you with a mix of lust and adoration, his cheeks flushed and his eyes dark. You kiss him again and suck on his tongue, flicking yours over his. Harry lets out a small groan, which makes you smile against his soft lips. You trail your lips down his neck, leaving a trail of warm kisses in your wake. Harry's breathing quickens, his fingers flexing against you as he struggles to keep himself steady. You take your time, tasting and exploring his skin, your fingers tracing the planes of his body. Reaching his chest, you run your tongue over his nipples, relishing in the way he can’t seem to stop making noise. Your mouth closes around the hardened nub, sucking on the skin as you look up at his face.

"Oh goodness," Harry gasps out, his eyes wide with surprise and pleasure. His hips jerk involuntarily, pushing against you as he feels your mouth on his chest. "Nobody's ever... done that before," he admits, his voice thick with lust. "It feels so... so good." His words are a jumbled mess, a testament to the intense sensations coursing through him. He's never had anyone touch him like this, never felt the wet heat of a mouth on his skin, and never experienced the gentle scrape of teeth against his nipple that sends shockwaves of pleasure to his groin.

“Glad to be your first,” you send him a wink. You snake a hand in your underwear and slowly jerk yourself off as you leave marks and wet kisses down Harry's body.

Finally, you reach the waistband of his pants, your fingers toying with the fabric as you look up at him, a silent question in your eyes. Harry nods, his eyes hooded, almost pleading as he murmurs, "Please."

You smile and pull away just long enough to undo the button and slide the zipper down. You kiss him once more before sliding the material away, revealing his erection. Harry's cock is beautiful, thick, and hard, the tip glistening with pre-cum. You wrap your hand around it, feeling it pulse in your grip, and he gasps, his hips jerking upward involuntarily. You take it as your cue to take the last of the remaining of your clothes off.

"I want to prep you, but I've never done it before," he admits, a hint of a blush coloring his cheeks. "Can you help me?"

You nod, taking the bottle of lube from the bedside table into your hand. It's warm from being next to your body, and you squeeze a generous amount into your palm. You guide his hand to it, his fingers brushing against yours as you show him how to spread it evenly. "It's all about making it smooth and easy," you murmur, your voice low and steady, trying to calm his nerves.

He leans over, his breath hot against your skin as he brings his slicked-up fingers closer. You feel his index finger trace the edge of your hole, the coldness of the lube contrasting with the heat of his touch. You let out a soft moan as he presses it in, gently pushing past the initial resistance. He's careful, not wanting to hurt you, but you can't help but want more.

"Go slower," you advise, feeling your muscles relax around his digit. Harry nods, taking his time as he eases his finger in deeper, letting you adjust to the intrusion. You guide his hand, showing him the rhythm and pressure that feels good, and soon he's moving his finger in and out of you with more confidence.

"Add another," you say, your voice strained with pleasure. Harry does as you ask, adding a second finger. You watch as he obeys, his fingers sliding in and out of you in a steady rhythm. "Feel how tight I am?" you ask, your hips rocking back against his hand.

"Yeah," he breathes, his eyes never leaving yours. "It feels...amazing."

It’s not long before Harry adds a third finger, stretching you open. You bite your lip to keep from crying out, your body trembling with the sensation.

"Do you want more?" he asks, his voice thick with desire.

"Always," you reply, your eyes locking with his.

With a wicked grin, Harry leans in, kissing you deeply as he continues to pump his fingers in and out. You moan into his mouth, the sensation overwhelming. You're so close, so incredibly close to the edge.

You break the kiss, panting. "I want you," you say, the words barely coherent.

"You got it," Harry murmurs, his voice low and full of promise. He withdraws his fingers before reaching to coat his dick in lube. You feel him at the entrance to your ass, his tip pressing gently.

"Take your time," you advise, reaching back to grip his hip. "Just push in slow."

He nods, his eyes never leaving yours as he starts to enter you. The stretch is intense, but you're more than ready for him. You gasp as he fills you up, inch by inch, his cock sliding in like it was made for you.

"Oh, fuck," you breathe, your eyes rolling back in your head.

"Are you okay?" Harry asks, his own breath ragged.

"More than okay," you reply, your voice a groan.

With a grin, Harry’s hips move in a steady, powerful rhythm. You rock back to meet him, each thrust sending waves of pleasure through your body. The sound of skin slapping against skin fills the room, mingling with your moans and Harry's grunts. You've never felt so alive, so connected to someone. You're lost in the sensation, in the feeling of being filled by him. And as he picks up the pace, driving deeper and deeper, you know that this is just the beginning of something incredible.

You lean closer, your lips brushing against his ear. "You're so big," you murmur, the words thick and rough with need. "So much bigger than I thought.” Harry lets out a guttural sound, his hands You can feel him twitching inside you, and you reach down to run your fingers over his chest teasingly. "You're so close, aren't you?" You tease, your voice is low and sultry. "Can you hold out a little longer for me?"

"Come on, Harry," you say, your voice dripping with condescension. "You're doing so well, but I want to enjoy this a little longer. Can you be a good boy and hold off a bit longer for me?"

Harry's eyes narrow, his jaw clenching as he tries to control himself. He nods, a little growl escaping his lips. "Yes," he grits out, his voice strained, "I can hold off."

"That's it," you purr, pulling back to look into his eyes. "You're being so good for me. So obedient."

You lean closer, your lips brushing against his ear as you whisper, "You like being called a good boy, don't you? It makes you so hard, knowing you're pleasing me."

Harry's eyes narrow, his jaw clenching as he tries to control himself. He nods, a little growl escaping his lips. "Yes," he grits out, his voice strained, "oh my god, you feel so good, honey.”

You whine, your body trembling as he hits that perfect spot inside you, the one that makes you see stars. You're so close, so fucking close, and Harry seems to know it. He picks up the pace, his hips slamming against yours as he drives into you deeper and harder.

"Please," Harry gasps out, his voice gruff and desperate. "I need to come. Please, let me come for you."

A cruel thought crosses your mind, a wicked smile twisting your lips. "You want to come, darling? You want to come inside me? Beg."

Harry's eyes widen, a look of desperation in them. "Yes," he gasps, his voice thick and rough. "Yes, please. Let me come for you."

You can't deny him any longer, not when he's begging so prettily. "Then come for me," you command, your voice soft but firm. "Come for me, baby."

You arch your back, pushing your chest towards him, your nipples hard and begging for attention. "Use me," you pant, your voice breathy and needy. "Take what you need, Harry."

He doesn't need any further encouragement. His hands move to your hips, gripping them tightly, lifting them off the bed as he starts to fuck you with everything he's got. The headboard hits the wall in a steady rhythm that matches your racing heartbeat. You can feel his cock thickening inside you, his balls slapping against your ass with every thrust. "You're going to make me come," he says, his voice a harsh whisper. "I'm going to fill you up."

Your body responds to his words, your muscles tightening around him, urging him closer to the edge. "Yes," you moan, "yes, Harry, come for me. I want to feel you come deep inside me."

His strokes become erratic, his breathing ragged as he fights to hold on. "Damn," he says, his eyes rolling back in his head. "You're so perfect. I can't hold on much longer."

With a final, desperate push, Harry lets go, his cock pulsing as he empties himself into you. The sensation is overwhelming, making you scream out in pleasure as your orgasm crashes over you. You cling to him, your nails digging into his back as wave after wave of ecstasy washes through you. A mess spreads against both of your stomachs. You can't believe you came untouched; you haven't done that in a while.

He collapses onto you, his breathing heavy. "Wow," he says, his voice muffled by the pillow. "That was incredible."

You stroke his back, feeling his muscles relax beneath your touch. "Mm," you murmur in agreement. "You were so good for me."

Harry lifts his head, propping himself up on one elbow so he can look at you. His eyes roam over your face, taking in the flush in your cheeks and the way your lips curve into a small smile. He reaches up, brushing a loose strand of hair away from your forehead. "I don't think I've ever felt anything like that before," he says softly, the awe in his voice making you feel warm inside.

You reach up to touch his face, running your knuckles gently along his cheekbone. "You're not so bad yourself," you say, your voice teasing. Harry grins, his gaze flickering down to your lips.

"Only not so bad?" he teases back, raising an eyebrow. You laugh, swatting at him playfully.

"Shut up," you say, a smile curving your lips.

Harry looks at you, a small smile tugging at the corner of his lip. "Can I ask you something?" he says, his tone somewhat tentative.

You nod, curious. "Sure, what is it?"

Harry takes a deep breath, running a hand through his messed-up hair. "This is probably going to sound stupid..." he starts, his expression a little sheepish.

You reach out, resting a hand on his arm. "It's not stupid," you assure him. "Just say it."

Harry nods, taking comfort in your touch. "Okay," he says, steeling himself. "I know this is probably backwards, given what we just did. But I was wondering if... if you'd like to go out on an actual date." He trails off, his cheeks coloring slightly as he waits for your response.

You can't help but grin at the sight of him stumbling over his words, looking so nervous. "Are you asking me out, Mr. Wilson?" you say, your voice lilting with amusement.

Harry gives a small nod, a crooked smile on his lips. "Yeah, I guess I am," he admits, his hand coming up to rub the back of his neck.

You pretend to think about it, tilting your head to the side as if considering. "Hmmm..." you hum thoughtfully.

Harry looks at you, his eyes widening adorably. "You're killing me here," he groans, his hand coming up to scrub at his face. "Just say yes already."

You give a dramatic sigh. "Oh, I suppose I could squeeze you into my schedule," you say playfully.

Relief floods Harry's features, followed by a grin. "You're a real pain in the ass, you know that?" he teases, reaching out to poke your ribs before bringing you into a soft kiss.

Harry breaks the kiss, pulling back just far enough to look at you. "We should probably clean up," he murmurs, his eyes roaming over your disheveled appearance.

You hum in agreement, looking down at the mess. "Yeah, that's probably a good idea," you say, your voice raspy.

Harry stands from the bed, holding out a hand to you. "Come on," he says, his tone softer now. "Let's take a shower."

Main Masterlist

@dastmalchianss

#nsfw #fic rec #harry wilson #harry wilson x reader #x reader #x masc reader #oh my god #HE DESERVES TO BE TALKED THROUGH IT !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!#gnawing at the bars of my enclosure !!!!!!

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enbyscript · 23 days ago

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Category is:

Robby trying to have a chill day at the park with his kids but they’re all dangling from monkey bars and jumping off swings and he’s having terrible visions of them in full body casts and stitched back together

#the pitt #michael robinavitch #dr robby #noah wyle #looks like hes having vietnam flashbacks #old man

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enbyscript · 24 days ago

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SHAWN HATOSY as JACK ABBOT NOAH WYLE as MICHAEL ROBINAVITCH The Pitt (2025-)

#the pitt #shawn hatosy #noah wyle #michael robinavitch #jack abbot #dr robby #EIFFEL TOWEEER

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enbyscript · 24 days ago

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they put him on this earth to just be unnecessarily tall and sexy

#the pitt #michael robinavitch #noah wyle

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enbyscript · 27 days ago

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hi I just wanna say I like your writing esp as a trans man myself, you're doing god's work every time you write and I hope you have a great day

thank you so much for sending me this im so glad to know youre enjoying my stuff !!! 🫶

i hope you, too, have a great day !!

#anon ask #anonymous #anon #answered

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enbyscript · 1 month ago

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Title: Tonight’s the Night

Rated: NC-17

Pairing: Charlie Reid x Reader

Word Count: 3,161

Content: Reader is female, but her age and race are not specified; Manipulation (both ways); Birth control tampering; Lying; Power play; Power dynamics; Dom/sub (up to you to decide who is who)

Summary: Charlie wants you to have his baby, but he doesn’t want you to know that just yet. (You know.)

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Folks who asked to be tagged/expressed interest: @pxpecxdy; @superhoeva; @lucis-dove; @caterpillarskimono; @nowandajenn; @tway5314; @aryacoulson; @olivemoths; @icarusinthesea; @roythequeercowboy; @hatughsea; @catmomstyles3; @woodxtock; @seeminglyincurablesadnes; @silversprings-mp3; @thehowler-elisabet; @aj3684; @a-sleepy-golden-storm; @misskrose; @bliss-baberuthless; @sickeningly-sweet-honey; @just-in-case-iloveyou; @subversivecynic; @galacticmermaid; @its-shadowy-heart-world; @robbyrosierobinavitch; @m14mags; @academywas; @captainoates; @thedamnqueenofhell; @punkgeekcryptid; @phoenixhalliwell; @greckel; @noneleft; @earthbodystarhead; @chaoticcosmonaut; @lewisrain; @lockeswoodss; @thicficbich1; @science-hoes; @pope-codys; @imthirstie; @oldmanbunnylover; @whatamievendoingtoday; @turtlelover59; @readingaroundworlds; @dastmalchianss; @crysxtal; @januaryonwater; @promotional-dvd

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Charlie knows he can do whatever he wants whenever he wants, but he knows that doing that all the time wouldn’t be prudent. He’s gotta put on a nice show of goodwill here and there. He cuts other people a break now and again because it’s nice to have some extra people around who owe him. And when things are going well for him, who’s to say it can’t go well for everyone? He knows how important it is to be seen as likable, or at least someone who is tough but fair. He can swing that. He’s a pretty good actor.

It’s how he gets his hooks in you, after all.

Charlie singles you out before he was even on your radar. You were just a secretary from a temp agency after all. You were supposed to be a seat warmer, so you never thought you’d need to actually remember everyone’s names, let alone the names of the upper brass. But he sees your ass bent over, picking up a pesky pen, and he decides that you’re the one. You’re the one who’s going to give him a baby.

It starts with Charlie taking you off Detective Daniels’ desk and foisting the aging Candace off on him. Candace is great. She’s reliable, friendly. She bakes the best fudge. But she’s not baby mama material. For one thing, she’s happily married, thought Charlie considers that to be an oxymoron. For another, he respects her too much.

As soon as you’re finished settling in at your new desk, situated just outside his office, he steps out, all smiles.

“I’m Deputy Reid, ma’am. Pleasure to meet you.”

He holds out his hand, and you take it with a firm grasp that he greatly admires. He liked a woman who could hold her own. It just made taking her apart so much sweeter.

“Likewise,” you say.

You’re still not sure why you were moved or why they’re keeping you on after the temp period had passed, but Charlie isn’t forthcoming. The less you know, the better. If you’re uncertain, you won’t make any sudden moves because you need the security of a regular paycheck. But once you have his baby, you won’t need to worry about that anymore. He’ll either have you moved into his house with a nursery under construction before the year is out, or he’ll be paying you child support and also your own income to comfortably live on.

If it comes to the latter scenario, he’s pretty sure that his displays of support and understanding will eventually prompt you to come to the realization that it would be easier if you and the baby just moved in with him after all. Then neither of you have to hire lawyers or divvy up custody; he knows you can’t afford to have a lawyer on your salary anyway.

As you exchange pleasantries that turn into conversations that turn into dates over the next few months, Charlie thinks about how this is going to be a fun long con. You’re too trusting and kind, but you’re smart. (He’s seen your resume and your degree, and he’s got no idea how you got stuck doing temp work or being a secretary.) Meaning you can carry a conversation, which is what he usually makes you do. Because if he shares too much with you, then you’ll start noticing things and making connections, and you won’t wanna stick around. And he can’t have that.

But it works in Charlie’s favor, as things tend to do. You think he’s a good listener. Which he is. It comes with being a cop—and with being part of the Chicago crime families, too, if he’s being honest. The more you can remember and hold over people, the better leverage you had and the longer you’d stay alive. Anyway, you’ve got a nice voice. Listening to you talk about your family and your hobbies is no hardship, really, even if it can be a little boring for him. At least you’ve got good taste in books and movies. It makes things like date nights and birthday gifts easier on him.

On your sixth month anniversary, Charlie tells you that he’s gonna take you out to a nice restaurant on the Northwest side of the city. He hands you his credit card.

“Buy yourself something nice,” he says.

“Charlie, I can’t—”

He holds up a hand.

“Yes, you can. You’re beautiful. Call your girlfriends and have them help you get yourself dolled up for me. I’ll pick you up at your place at 7:00.”

“I don’t even get off work until 5:00.”

“You’ve got the rest of the day off, honey.”

He watches you come to the realization, perhaps for the first time, that he is a powerful man. That feeling sends liquid heat through his veins before it settles right between his legs.

Tonight’s the night, he thinks to himself, watching you put your purse over your shoulder and head out of the bullpen.

You turn around to look at him before you walk out, and he’s still looking at you. He hasn’t blinked. You give an uncharacteristically shy wave, which he happily returns.

Tonight.

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Charlie is a patient man, and he respects the speed—or lack thereof—of your relationship. You’re a classy girl. You’re smart, and you’re careful. You were raised right. You told him that almost every teacher you’ve ever had told you that you were a pleasure to have in class. You were in Girl Scouts for five years.

He’s lost count of the number of times he’s told you he “forgot” to buy condoms, only for you to go back to the front room to grab your purse to pull out a condom and say, “A Girl Scout is always prepared.”

Unfortunately, this is a crucial barrier in his efforts towards knocking you up.

It’s shaping up to be more of the same after your special dinner date, too. But this time, Charlie has made sure that he will be the one who is the most prepared.

“Charlie, wait, wait, baby. You’re not wearing protection.”

“So?” he husks. “I’m clean.”

You laugh. It’s almost condescending, which he both respects and hates. He knows a laugh like that can be put to good use. He’s used it many times when talking to a pretty girl—or that one guy a few years ago that no one else knows about. But to have it used against him? Well shit, that was just going to mean that your kid would get the “annoying, sarcastic asshole” gene from mama and papa.

“I know you’re clean,” you say, laughing again. “I don’t want to get pregnant.”

“You won’t,” he says. “You’re on the pill, aren’t you?”

“Yeah, and where are they, by the way?” you ask.

“How should I know?” he deadpans.

You smirk up at him, and he wants to choke it off you in the best possible way. He wants to see that smirk turned into open-mouth whining and drooling so he shoves his fingers or his cock into it until you gag.

“You’re gonna tell me you don’t know?”

“Listen, if you don’t want to hook up, just say so.”

Charlie makes to stand, to pull away from you and climb off his bed, but you stop him, just like he knew you would.

“I do want to hook up, Charlie. I just...wish you’d be honest with me.”

Honesty isn’t exactly his policy, but if it would make you stay...

“You can ask me anything, honey.”

Which isn’t a lie. You could ask him anything. That didn’t mean he’d tell you the truth though. It doesn’t even mean he’ll give you an answer. But you find his statement earnest enough to let out a sigh of relief, and that makes him smile and settle back down beside you on his bed.

“I know you hate condoms. And don’t try to protest because I know you haven’t ‘forgotten’ to get them eighteen times or whatever.” Twenty-six times actually, but who’s counting? “But please tell me you’re not hiding my birth control pack somewhere.”

If that is what you want him to say, then he will happily say it.

“Baby, I hate condoms, but I am not hiding your birth control pack somewhere.”

Your eyes search his face, and Charlie lets you. He takes a good look at yours, too. He already knows you’re gonna give him a beautiful baby, but he never gets tired of eye contact. If he could, he’d put you on a pedestal and look at you all day. Almost without him realizing it, you’ve become one of his favorite things.

You let out a sigh of defeat. Then you make a noise of frustration.

“So that means I really did lose them somewhere. My insurance company is never going to believe me. I’m gonna have to pay for this month twice now.”

It is then that Charlie knows he needs to do some damage control. If you stay this annoyed, distracted, and upset much longer, then he’s never gonna get the chance to fuck you tonight, and he can’t have that.

“Listen, we don’t have to have sex tonight. There’s lot of other things we can do instead,” he says. “Perhaps there’s something I can do to take your mind off those pills?”

You pick your head up and lean back on your elbows.

“Oh yeah?” you say.

And Charlie knows it immediately: you’re as good as his for the next eighteen years at least.

“Uh huh,” he says. He starts leaving kisses on your face before taking a detour at your neck. “We’ve got something to celebrate after all.”

When he gets to your tits, he doesn’t know which one he wants to devour first. Charlie dips towards your right one first and immediately palms the left one. He knows you like your nipples sucked—who didn’t?—so he makes sure to pay extra attention there today. Pretty soon, he wasn’t gonna be the one to get first dibs on them, so he needs to make the most of them now. It is then that you let out your first real moan of the evening, and it makes Charlie’s blood sing.

He could stay on your breasts longer, but he knows time is of the essence here. You both have work tomorrow, and since Charlie knows there’s no way in hell he’d ever be able to convince you to taken another day off, he needs to get his mouth on your pussy so that you’ll be begging him to fuck you before you declare it to be “too late for that.”

Charlie leaves a few hickies on the the swells of your breasts while he rips your new underwear off you. He appreciates the way your eyes widen when he tosses the two pieces of lace off the side of the bed. But before you can say anything, Charlie is slotting his hands into the back of your knees and shoving your knees to your chest.

“Jesus, Charlie.”

“Hold your thighs open for me.”

“Fuck,” is all you manage to say before Charlie dives in for his favorite meal.

Charlie’s loved eating pussy since he got his first taste his sophomore year of high school, and to his delight, it’s never left him. He firmly believes that every girl’s pussy is beautiful. He’s seen a lot of them over his adult life, and he’s yet to see one he didn’t want to sample. He savored every taste and feel, and nothing felt better than when he earned himself the best sounds on earth: a woman’s cries of pleasure.

But yours are different, of course, because you’re going to be the mother of his kid. And, if he plays his and your cards right, his kids. So when his tongue finds your clit and his finger sink inside your cunt, he makes sure he does it right. Make sure he presses the spots inside you that make you light up, make you cry out, make your thighs shake with the effort of keeping them open. He uses the flat of his tongue against your lips so he can get the full taste and feel of you before going back to your clit. He needs to tease you just enough to drive you a little crazy, after all. This has to be especially good.

C’mon, mama, he thinks. Let me hear you. Let me hear those words...

Charlie’s eyes lock with yours, which is something not even he could’ve arranged. He takes it as the sign it probably is: that this is right and that this is going to happen because it’s meant to happen. For good measure, Charlie moans into your slit, and even he can’t tell if he’s even really acting anymore.

He tries to keep his hips in check, but when you start mewling, he can’t help but rolls his hips against the mattress.

Just to take the edge off...

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Charlie likes to think you don’t have him wrapped around your finger as much as you’re wrapped around his, but even Charlie has shortcomings. For instance, he doesn’t know you saw him sneak your pill pack out of your purse a few days ago. He doesn’t know you found them in his top drawer when you went to borrow his stapler after someone “borrowed” yours and never gave it back. The bastard didn’t even try to hide the fact that he lifted them, and you wonder if he almost wanted you to find him out.

At first you were kind of livid and more than a little confused, but then the puzzle pieces started to come together. The distaste for condoms. The questions about not only your current health and well-being, but your entire history of health and well-being. The way he’s been pushing you to use the perks of your position to use the force’s free gym, which came with free massages.

When the realization had hit you, you’d sat down in Charlie’s chair, and you’d quietly closed his desk drawer, leaving your pills inside it. You’d let your mind wander and had lost track of how long Charlie had been away from his desk until the man himself was standing in the doorway, head cocked to the side in a rare moment of being caught by surprise.

“I wanted to see what it felt like,” you had said. “To be one behind the desk.”

“Honey, if you wanted to get behind my desk, all you had to do was say so.”

Was his smile, then, one of relief? Relief that you hadn’t caught him? Was it glee at knowing his secret was inches away and yet remained undiscovered? Because surely if you’d seen what was in his drawer, you wouldn’t be sitting there smiling at him flirtatiously...

No, the best way to handle this is to let him keep thinking whatever he was thinking. Because anyway, like most men who want a baby, he’s not thinking more than nine months ahead. Oh, sure, it’s easy to open a college fund at the bank and to live near a good school. But he’s not thinking of the day-to-day required to raise a kid. He’s a smart man, but he’s still a man. You’ll give him the baby he clearly wants, but he’s going to make an honest woman of you. You’re going to walk down the aisle before you start to show, no ifs, ands, or buts about it.

The best part is that this man is going to pay for it all, and he’s going to thank you for it. Look how much he already spent to make this night happen!

─────────────────────

It doesn’t take much longer to make you come under his tongue and around his fingers. He feels your walls squeeze around him, and his dick throbs out of jealousy. Your cries of pleasure are making it hard to not bust right then and there, but he remember why he’s got you here, and he’s not going to fuck it up.

C’mon, baby. Say those words.

“Charlie,” you whine.

He pulls away, panting, face dripping with your slick.

“What, baby?”

You’re still holding your legs spread for him, and he’s enthralled. Your pussy is a rosy pink, and your slit is dripping as aftershocks still zing through your body.

“Fuck me, Charlie,” you say.

Charlie bites down on the inside of his cheek hard enough that he tastes his own blood.

“What about your pills, baby? And condoms?”

There’s a split second where it looks like you might come to your senses, so he slips his fingers back inside you, earning a gasp of pleasure from you. He laughs a genuine laugh, and you try to muster a scowl for him, but you’re still blissed out.

“Charlie, don’t rub it in,” you say. “Just fuck me already.”

He not going to look a gift horse in the mouth. You’ve said the magic words.

“Say no more,” Charlie says.

And god does he hope you don’t.

Charlie wastes little time in getting between your legs, urging you to wrap your legs around him this time. He plants a hot, open-mouthed kiss on your lips, which he is delighted that you reciprocate. He wonders how you feel about tasting yourself on his tongue and if you love it as much as he does. (He hopes you do because he’s not keen on it going the other way around.) But when you moan into his mouth when he slips his cock inside you, he takes it as a good sign.

That’s the last truly coherent thought Charlie has for a while because sinking into you without a barrier between you feels as fucking amazing as he fucking knew it would. You’re so fucking soft and warm around him that he can’t help but thrust into you like a bull in heat. God, fucking you has been amazing, but now that he knows what you really feel like, he realizes he was only experiencing a fraction of you.

He groans in your ear like he’s been punched in the gut every time he thrusts back into you, and then you have the audacity to run your fingers through his sweaty curls when you say, “Feelin’ good, Charlie?”

“Jesus,” he moans, hips losing rhythm already.

You lock your ankles at the small of his back, and he gives up the ghost of keeping his weight off you.

“There you go,” you say. Your patronizing voice is back, and fuck it if that doesn’t get him going, too. “Is there anything you wanna tell me now, Charlie?”

He laughs brokenly.

“I’m fucking...in love with you,” Charlie husks, raw, open, and honest. “Fuck me, but I love you.”

You make a self-satisfied sound that lets him know he’s well and truly fucked.

“Come on,” you say. “Let’s make this baby. Come for me.”

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Interact with this post if you want to be tagged on my fics!

Thanks for reading! 🩷😉👍🏻

#fic rec #x reader #chicago pd #charlie reid #HOLY FUCK #not this reminding me to take my own pill damn #UNO REVERSE ON THE SOCIOPATH !!!!!#HE AINT BABY TRAPPING READER SHE BABYTRAPPING HIM !!!#god i love love love this #the idea of making a manipulative and cocky bastard like reid so off kilter while he fucks u ??#mid fuck love admission ????? wrapped round readers FINGER

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enbyscript · 1 month ago

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Get the all new The Pitt trading cards! Available at all stores. Swap them with your friends to create the best ER team ever! Nurse and Night Shift Pack sold separately.

TV Appreciation Week: Day 2 (22 July): Newest tv obsession: The Pitt

#the pitt

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enbyscript · 1 month ago

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Fic where everyone thinks Robby is a top based on how he is when he’s on-duty at the hospital, but he’s really the bottomest bottom to ever bottom.

#the pitt #michael robinavitch #this is robby in anything ill ever write ever #also counting this for all of noah wyle’s lil freaks #theyre all bottoms cuz i say so and i will top them

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enbyscript · 1 month ago

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saddest man in pittsburgh

#the pitt #michael robinavitch #noah wyle #i should be fuckin him

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enbyscript · 1 month ago

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Headed to bed and then was struck by the thought... how do the core four (plus Sammy... so fierce five? Idk lol) react to forehead temp checks? Either with a hand or a wrist or a kiss. I dont know why but I am so fucking soft for forehead touches and I need to know what the fam thinks of them.

(Thank you for indulging this fandom's love of h/c. 💕)

first off lemme just say that I love how we have the name of the core four or big four as @pxpecxdy has them called. But now fierce five to include my baby Sammy 💕

Robby is a big baby as we’ve discussed. He likes to be doted on or babied once he’s home and can strip off the ‘Dr. Robinavitch Chief of Emergency Medicine’ persona and just be your big baby who lays on top of you completely like a giant German shepherd who thinks he’s a lap dog. He relaxes like that while you lay on the couch watching those medical dramas that he hates because they’re so inaccurate and have too much accidental pregnancy to be real. And while he rests he feels the back of your hand come up to his forehead to check his temperature, leaning into it a bit and nodding a bit while you coo at him and tell him he still feels warm.

Abbot is absolutely not sick. He’s told you already he’s feeling fine while he lays on the rug after his shift. He only managed to get his scrub top off and kicked off his prosthetic before the headache and dizziness stopped him but he’s laying on his back telling you he doesn’t need rest. He can run a marathon right now if he wanted to. He tries to turn his head and avoid your wrist because he does have a fever and he was sweating the entire drive home with the AC on in December. You have to hold his jaw to feel his forehead but he’s burning up and you shake your head at him before trying to drag him to the bedroom because he’s dead weight now and not going to make this easy for you. He’s fine. He just wants to be a shit out of spite because you’re going to make him stay home tomorrow.

Charlie doesn’t get sick. He told you he wasn’t sick this morning and sneered when you made him tea instead of his usual piping hot black coffee. He told you he wasn’t sick when you suggested he work from home today. He told his assistant not to tell you he was sick when she caught him sipping DayQuil at lunch. Of course she told you- she was always on your side. So when he came home he rolled his eyes when you made soup and tea. He wasn’t sick. But he fell asleep as soon as he sat on the couch to watch the Bears disappoint him again and woke up to your palm on his forehead and worried look on your face. He waves your hand off- tells you he was just closing his eyes for a moment. He lets you pull him into the steamy shower with you though- maybe he’ll be sick if this is the reward.

Andrew has been feeling bad all day. Your worried look following him throughout the house and it was only when he decided to take a nap at 2 pm did you finally relent and check on him. He can’t fucking sleep most nights so finding him buried under the covers in the afternoon was concerning. But you don’t try to push him into telling you he’s sick. You creep up to him and press your lips to his forehead and sigh when you feel the burning skin and taste the salt from the sweat on him. Immediately he wakes and leans into your kiss- mumbling a bit to ask what you’re doing. You don’t ask him how he feels but you ask if he wants you to stay. Of course he wants you to stay- to wrap your arms around him and run your fingers through his hair while he sleeps off the NyQuil he chugged 30 minutes ago.

Sammy is, like Robby, a big fucking baby. He follows you around the house with the blanket draped over his head like a nun- red nose and eyes and whining that you’re moving too fast for him. He wants tea but just can’t find the strength to get up. He wants soup but just can’t find the strength to leave the couch. Yet he finds the strength to stand behind you while you do it and run his hands underneath your shirt because ‘it makes me feel better babe.’ While he naps on the couch wrapped up in blankets- you fold the clothes you washed and press the back of your hand against his skin to feel how his fever is doing. But of course he complains. ‘Why didn’t you use your lips?’ You love him so much but dammit if you don’t want to smother him with a pillow sometimes.

#fic rec #the pitt #x reader #andrew cody #jack abbot #michael robinavitch

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enbyscript · 1 month ago

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Trapped Chapt. 3/4

Tags: Fake/Pretend Dating, Kissing, Feelings Realization

Summary: Tonight's the night of the gala; you're nervous about pretending to date Harry for the con and what the night may entail.

Word Count: 2.2k

A/N: Okay, so I'm not sure if there are rooms at HQ or not, but just walk with me here, alright?

You're standing in front of the full-length mirror in your room at HQ. You don’t stay here all the time, but sometimes, when you can’t sleep at your apartment, you find yourself here.

The soft glow of the lamp in the corner casts a warm, comforting hue across the room.

One of your playlists is playing low in the background as you're scrutinizing the array of high-fashion outfits laid out before you to pick from. Ever since it was announced that you and Harry were the main stars of this con, You’ve been overthinking every little interaction with him over the past few days. You couldn't stop thinking about when you two were ‘practicing’ kissing that one day,

Your eyes flit between a sharp-tailored tuxedo and a velvet blazer. It's a tough decision.

A knock interrupts your thought as your eyes dart to the open doorway to see Harry leaning against the doorframe. He’s already dressed to impress in a tailored three-piece suit that complements his lean frame. His eyes sparkle with excitement, and you can't help but smile at the sight of him. "Hey," he says. "Ready to turn some heads?"

You nod, taking a deep breath to steady your racing heart. "Almost," you reply, gesturing to the clothes on the bed. "Which one do you think I should go with?"

Harry's gaze sweeps over the options before settling on the tuxedo. "That one," he says, pointing. "It'll make you look like a million bucks." You look down, avoiding his eyes, suddenly bashful.

You walk into the bathroom to change; you can’t help the blush that’s covering your cheeks. You slip into the tuxedo, feeling the luxurious fabric glide over your skin. Harry's right; the outfit looks incredible on you. You attempt to tie your bow tie in the mirror, sighing in frustration. Frowning, you go to reach for the door to crack it open a little.

“Harry… Do you mind helping me with my bow tie…? I-I never figured out how to tie one of these.” You feel slightly foolish that you don’t know how.

On the other side of the door, Harry pauses where he was standing, next to your bookshelf, taking in all the different titles of books and DVDs you have stacked. He turns to look where your voice was resonating from, a hint of surprise in his eyes. The sight of you in the tuxedo seemed to have taken his breath away. He quickly recovers, a gentle smile spreading across his face as he walks across the room and enters the bathroom.

"Of course," he says warmly, placing a reassuring hand on your shoulder. "Let me help you with that." He speaks calmly.

You feel goosebumps erupt on your skin as he comes to stand behind you. His hands are deft as they take control of the tie, the fabric slipping through his fingers with ease. His touch is gentle, guiding you through the process, step by step. You nod, trying to focus on the task at hand despite the heat building between you. His fingers brush against your neck as he adjusts the knot, and you find yourself leaning back into him slightly, unconsciously. Biting your lip as you admire the way his hands move, the way his veins stand out.

Finally, the bowtie is perfectly in place, and Harry steps back, his eyes meeting yours in the mirror. You can see the pride and admiration in his gaze, and it fills you with a warmth that goes beyond the physical touch.

"There you go," he says with a grin. "All set for the big night." He pats your shoulders.

You smile back. The tension in the room is undeniable. "You look incredible," he whispers, his fingertips brushing against the fabric of your lapel. "We're going to nail this. Ready?" he asks, his voice a little huskier than before. You can feel his breath on your neck, and the way he's looking at you is sending a shiver down your spine.

"As ready as I'll ever be," you murmur, turning to face him.

He takes your hand, threading his fingers through yours. The touch is electric as the two of you walk out of your room and down the stairs to the car that’s waiting for you outside to take you to the event.

As you listen in on the comms, Breanna is feeding you and Harry your cover stories and background information once again to provide a refresher. She speaks with a calm confidence, her voice a low murmur that's somehow reassuring amidst the tension.

“Good luck, guys; you got this,” Breanna says, which does little to calm your nerves.

The mission is to find the office that has the main computer in it that is used for all the illegal activities. Connect the devices to the computer, and it will start downloading files automatically. Step three: get the hell out of there. Simple.

As you step out of the car, Harry, ever the gentleman, holds his arm out for you to take as he leads you up the stairs of the building.

You can't help but feel awestruck by its beauty. It's like a work of art itself. The place just shines in the moonlight with its fancy white marble outside and all those fancy gold details. Once inside, your eyes scan the area in wonder. The interior of the building is just as lavish as the exterior, with high ceilings, intricate molding, and chandeliers creating an elegant setting. The sound of quiet chatter and soft music fills the air.

As you and Harry weave through the building, you can feel the eyes of other guests on you. The two of you make your way through the crowd, occasionally stopping to chat with other guests. Harry seems to be handling the role just as well, his hand lightly resting on the small of your back as he handles the introductions to different people.

In between getting introduced to person after person, you subtly take a few moments to survey the area, trying to locate the office that you're told is where the wife does most of her business.

"There it is," you murmur as you take a sip of the champagne you got from a waiter walking by. Harry nods, his eyes flickering with the same intensity. Without drawing any attention, you both slip away from the main room, making your way to the office.

With Harry's hand still on the small of your back, the two of you make your way inside the room. It's spacious with expensive furniture and a desk in the center. You quietly thank whoever is listening that the computer on the desk doesn’t have a password—a rookie mistake, truly. You quickly get to work as you hook up the device Breanna handed you to the computer while Harry paces the room.

"We don't have much time," Harry whispers, a hint of urgency in his voice. The two of you quickly get to work, downloading the necessary files.

The minutes seem to drag on as you wait for the download to finish, the tension in the room growing with each tick of the clock. Harry keeps a watchful eye on the door, ensuring no one interrupts your mission while you watch the progress bar slowly move across the screen. Finally, with a soft beep, the download is complete. You unplug the device and pocket it, shooting Harry a quick nod.

"We've got what we need," you say, trying to keep your voice low.

As the sound of approaching footsteps becomes louder and louder, your heart rate begins to rise. You quickly look over at Harry, your eyes wide with alarm.

"Harry," you whisper urgently, "do you trust me?"

Harry's reply is immediate, his voice firm and sure. "Yeah, of course I trust you."

Without hesitating for a moment, you reach forward and pull him to you, your hand tugging on his tie and bringing his mouth down to yours in a fierce, passionate kiss. A little noise comes from his throat at the suddenness. Your hands immediately start roaming, one finding its way into his hair while the other pulls him against your body. The intensity of the kiss takes you both by surprise, the need for air almost forgotten as you cling to each other.

The feel of Harry's lips on yours is intoxicating, and without pausing to think things through, you slip your tongue into his mouth. Harry lets out a whine against your mouth, which definitely doesn’t make your blood travel south.

The sound of the door opening jolts you back to reality, and you break the kiss, your chest rising and falling with each ragged breath. Time to play the role.

"What the..." The voice of the woman standing in the open doorway jolts through the silence, her eyes widening as she takes in the scene. You and Harry both freeze in place, your chests heaving and lips swollen from the kiss.

“Sorry, sorry…” You apologize, your chest still rapidly rising and falling. “We’re in that honeymoon phase; this one can’t seem to keep his hands to himself.” You chuckle awkwardly, and your hand comes up to ruffle Harry’s hair. Meanwhile, his face is the same shade as a tomato.

The woman looks slightly shocked, but then her face softens into a smile. "Ah, young love," she chuckles, shaking her head. "I remember those days."

You and Harry both force a smile, trying to compose yourselves. The woman's gaze flicks between the two of you, her eyes lingering on Harry's flushed face and mussed-up hair.

"Please, forgive our... enthusiasm," Harry manages to say, his voice a little hoarse. "We got carried away."

The woman chuckles again, clearly amused by the situation. "It's quite alright," she replies, her eyes twinkling with understanding. "I understand completely."

"Right," you chime in, trying to hide your relief. "We should probably head back to the party."

The woman smiles at you both, still looking amused. "Of course. You two have fun, and try to keep your hands to yourselves," she teases playfully.

"We'll certainly try," Harry replies. He gives the woman a charming smile, trying to maintain the act.

You nod in agreement, giving the woman a sheepish grin. "No promises, though," you quip, trying to diffuse the tension.

As you and Harry make your way back to the main room, you can't help but think about how understanding the woman had been. Despite the fact that you had been caught making out in her office, she had been surprisingly unfazed by the situation. It was almost odd; for a criminal mastermind, she had been strangely... nice.

You shake the thought away, refocusing on your mission and the task at hand. After navigating through the crowded party, you and Harry make your way outside, the cool evening air a relief from the humid ballroom. As you step out into the open air, you both let out a collective sigh of relief.

"That was close," Harry mutters, running a hand through his already messy hair, making it even more chaotic.

You nod in agreement. "Definitely. But we got what we came for."

As you walk towards the awaiting car, you find yourself unable to shake the memory of the little noise Harry had made when you were kissing. The memory of it keeps replaying in your mind. You try to shake it off, focusing on the mission and the importance of staying focused. But the thoughts keep creeping back: the way Harry's body had felt against yours, the way he had seemed to completely lose himself in the kiss for a moment...

Throughout the drive back to headquarters, you can't help but notice Harry stealing glances at you. There's an undeniable heat in his gaze, a smoldering intensity that seems to betray his cool and composed demeanor.

Every time your eyes meet, his gaze holds yours for a moment too long. There's a tension building between you. A silent understanding that you're both thinking of the same thing. The memory of his body pressed against yours, the way he had let out that quiet, almost guttural noise when you sucked on his tongue... It's all you can think about.

As you lean in closer, your gaze flicks to Harry for permission. He nods almost imperceptibly, his eyes darkening slightly with desire. Taking a deep breath, you surge forward and crash your lips against his, the kiss hungry and intense.

He immediately responds, his hands coming up to caress your cheeks as you pull him closer. Your fingers grip his waist tightly as you kiss him.

The kiss is desperate, full of pent-up tension and desire. You can feel his body reacting to your touch, pressing against you as you deepen the kiss. His hands trail down your back, roaming over the smooth fabric of your tuxedo. You moan into the kiss, your fingers running through his messy hair, as though trying to remember the feeling of it.

The car continues to move under you, the driver ignoring or pretending that what was going on in the back seat. But neither of you cares. In this moment, there is only the two of you.

@dastmalchianss

Harry Wilson Masterlist

Main Masterlist

Support me on KOFI <3

#fic rec #reader insert #leverage #harry wilson #x reader #AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH #screeching

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enbyscript · 1 month ago

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GIVE US MORE JESSE IN S2

#nurse jesse #the pitt #jesse van horn #i need him

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enbyscript · 1 month ago

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18+ MINORS DNI SFW jack abbot x transmasc emt!reader

kinda short, a lil shitty. first time writing for abbot, took a while to figure out where i wanted this to go. enemies to ?? somethin’.

you work as an EMT; generally get along with everyone you meet at the hospitals your ambulance makes visits to, mostly Ptmc In particular; everyone except doctor abbot. he refuses to soften his words when giving suggestions, doesn’t give you the respect you deserve when bringing him patients, alive, to be tended to. something in your stomach that finds him incredibly irritating. his stares make your hair stand on end and your palms sweat; his eyes scrutinizing every little thing you do. once he called your life saving heroics a ‘fucking hack job’ and griped every time he saw you for the next week that he wasn’t paid to clean up your shit. he pissed you off.

jack abbot, for as good of a doctor as he is, sure loves to get under your skin. seeing you try to hold back sarcastic retorts or biting comments whenever you’re in proximity to one another gives him a rush. sometimes he’ll push, asking you questions to test your knowledge even though he has a perfectly intelligent med student following him around like a puppy dog. but that med student doesnt roll their eyes at him like you do, or meet his stares the same way that makes his skin prickle under your attention. he doesn’t challenge his med student the same way he challenged you, knowing you’re an incredibly gifted EMT; everytime he does, though, he sees your work getting better, you getting faster.

nobody understands why abbot is such a dick only to you. robby has seen in at turn over and was shocked at the way jack talked to probably one of the best EMT’s in the business, and he offered no explanation at robby’s prodding.

it was a busy night when you came rushing in, your partner pushing the gurney while you straddled your patient doing compressions. your forehead had your hair sticking to it, your arms burning at the exertion, but you refused to stop. you couldn’t, not until this person was back. you kept up the compressions as shen and the nurses moved around you. finally the heart rate came back, sinus rhythm began to steady, and the really tall nurse you remembered as jesse helped you down.

you tried to catch your breath, closing your eyes and leaning forward on your knees while your partner handled the paperwork with the charge nurse. everything was so busy around you when you heard it; a deep, booming voice shouting. just below it a voice that raised your hackles anytime it was in your vicinity: abbot. you looked up in time to see some red faced asshole pull back a mean swing going straight for the night shift attending.

time slowed, almost to a snails pace. you couldn’t tell if this guy was a patient, a family member, all you could see was that he was angry and looking to cause problems. specifically by punching jack abbot. you fantasized about that, sometimes. not that you’d ever do it, but it was cathartic to think about shutting his mouth up after a scathing comment directed your way. unfortunately, all the precious air you worked so hard to get into your lungs held there and burned. you felt your stomach turn at the thought of somebody actually hurting doctor abbot, whether he deserved it or not.

with your breath held in anticipation your legs moved on autopilot as you slipped in between the two men, shoulder bumping abbot out of the wag before the other man’s fist landed squarely on the side of your head. your head snapped to the side, pain blooming in your skull at the quick impact, the emergency department going silent for a half second. you couldn’t hear over the blood pounding in your ears. you righted yourself in a flash before yanking your head back and clamming your forehead into the assailant’s nose, blood splattering across both your faces before he went down.

everything in the emergency department stopped at the spectacle you’d finished. could almost hear a pin drop if you listened really hard. your chest was heaving with exertion, head throbbing and your ears ringing as you tried to compose yourself. suddenly, everything sprang back into life. people were shouting, pointing, even gawking at you. a few security guards ran in to grab the man, still a bleeding mess on the floor, and hauling his ass out. you felt hands on your face before you could recognize what was going on, dry skin from overuse of sanitizer but warm against your flesh. a voice trying to break through, a face coming in to view beneath gray curls.

“jesus fucking christ kid, you’re fucking bleeding,” it was abbot, standing much too close to assess your injuries. were his eyes always hazel?

“not—,” you breathed. “not mine.”

abbot prodded his thumb against your eyebrow and you flinched at a sudden burning you failed to notice before.

“no, some of it is,” he mumbled in the space between you. “c’mon rocky, gotta look ‘atcha.”

your could see your partner start in your direction before you raised your hand to hold back. too tired to argue or fight back, abbot gripped your uniformed shoulder and dragged you into the closest free room while everyone else got back to work now that the show was over.

you slumped into the nearest chair, not wanting to have to sully an exam table that was better used for someone who really needed help. you watched abbot make his way around the room, spine rigid, lips downturned as he ran on autopilot to collect his necessary supplies.

“gonna need a ct scan after, make sure nothin’ else is going on up there,” he sat himself on a rolling stool and pushed his way to crowd your space once again, cleaning up the blood on your face to see what was yours and what wasnt.

“is that a dig? callin’ me stupid?”

you don’t think you’ve ever heard abbot laugh before. low, deep in his chest, barely there with his lips quirked up slightly to show his amusement. your chest tightened, probably from all the excitement.

yeah, the excitement.

“i’d never say that, ‘specially not to my hero of the night,” now it was your turn to chuckle, cheeks warming at the comment. you winced as he dabbed at your eyebrow with gauze. must have been the burning from before.

“sorry.”

abbot continued with your treatment, numbing the area before prepping a needle for sutures.

“didn’t need to do that, y’know. i can take a punch.” his voice sounded off, not the usual tone when giving you shit. it was softer, dare you say almost guilty?

“if anyone’s gonna sock you it’s gonna be me, not some asshole off the street,” you tried to sound aloof, like you weren’t replaying the scene over and over again in your head. as if your fists weren’t clenching in your lap as you let yourself feel the anger pulsing through your blood at the alternative if you hadn’t gotten in the way. you couldn’t see anyone swinging at the guy that kept you on your toes most nights. that you almost looked forward to clashing with when stepping foot inside the ED.

abbot did’t respond, focusing on stringing your flesh back together. the room grew quiet, your breathing seemingly the only sign of life. you let your eyes trace over the doctor before you, taking in the details and contours of his face. you never noticed the freeckles across his nose and cheeks, only visible at this short distance. they matched the ones on his forearms in your periphery. steady as he worked. his cheeks were stubbled with gray, probably a day or two old if you had to guess.

“think you broke is nose.”

“what,” you slipped back into yourself, not quite catching what had been said.

“that guy, you’ve got a fuckin’ hard head. had to have broken his nose with all that blood,” abbot clarified.

“he’s lucky that’s all he walked away with,” your words were clipped, that anger still simmering just below the surface. abbot almost looked taken aback, his hands stopped moving before resuming their work. he was acutely aware of the fact that you said nothing about the first half of what he said. a light blush dusting his cheeks at the recognition.

your partner came knocking on the door once doctor abbot had finished your sutures and was cleaning up, letting you know that they called dispatch and your supervisor was sending a replacement, for you to go home after your scan and get some rest. your head was too sensitive still, so you opted for a thumbs up as opposed to nodding.

“right, lets get you up there for that scan. then i can give you a lift home,” abbot slipped off his soiled gloves in the trash, as if what he said was the most casual thing in the world instead of the least normal thing he’s ever spoken to you.

“y-you don’t have to do that, i can get home myself,” it almost felt like you were on the defensive, anxious that he could hear the uptick in your heartbeat at the idea.

“no way cowboy, you come to my rescue i get to pay it back anyway i want,” the lightness of his tone made your insides feel funny. and when he looked at you with a real smile you know that take another punch, as many as needed, to keep him looking at you like that.

#self reblog

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