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Published:
2026-05-05
Completed:
2026-05-19
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6,345
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2/2
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Nine O'clock, Home Alone, Paging You (Wishing You'd Come Over)

Summary:

"…What are you doing?" McKay's voice had gotten quiet, hushed and quick as though speaking about something secretive. Javadi couldn't hold back anymore.

"I need you,"

She whispered it so quietly that she wasn't sure the call had picked it up. Her fingers buried back inside of her, the aching unbearable. It wasn't enough, none of it was, and she was putting everything on the line for it.

"…You need me?"

── ⋆⋅𖤓⋅⋆ ──

Or, Javadi's struggling to get off after a rough shift. She calls McKay for help.

Notes:

(See the end of the work for notes.)

Chapter 1: So Meet Me At 11:30, I Love The Way You're Talkin' Dirty (Said I'm)

Chapter Text

"Javadi?"

 

She could hear McKay's voice on the other line, low and quiet through her speaker. She'd pressed the surface of the screen between her ear and shoulder, lying in bed with her sheets half-tossed. She had to know what she was doing, using that voice on her. The one that dipped low, almost raspy in the ways it breathed through the call.

 

"I— I just… Wh-What are you doing, right now?"

 

"Well… For starters, I only just got through the door thirty minutes ago… and only out of the shower ten minutes ago. Javadi, what's this about?"

 


── ⋆⋅𖤓⋅⋆ ──

 

Their shift had gone as normally as one could expect. Javadi, with her peers pressuring her into multiple different cases she couldn't slip away from, had stressed herself out with her workload and caffeine intake. The crash (not funny, by the way) hadn't come until the end of her shift, where passing along information and wrapping up charts loomed over her head. Whitaker had sat beside her, pulling up a chair slowly and nearly sliding out of it when Santos pushed him underneath the desk to get him out of her way. Javadi had to admit that she did laugh, although she could also admit it wouldn't have been funny at all if he did fall. Nope, not one bit.

 

"Hey… Javadi? I don't want to sound like I'm… overstepping or anything… but I— I wanted to let you know that sometimes, Santos talks about you… and sometimes, I get worried you might feel left out. Y'know… with Santos and I sharing a roof over our heads now and all… I just wanted to let you know that if you're ever free, you're welcome to come over any time."

 

When she'd met his eye, she'd probably looked like the biggest idiot to roam the ED. She was acting as though his act of kindness was taboo, like she'd never been invited to hang out before, and she had to shake her head out to reset her expression.

 

"Oh—! No, really! It's fine. I-I mean, I'd like for us to get together and do things more… but I… I think I'd be too nervous to randomly come over, or call and ask... Maybe… we could make a group chat? Like, for all the med students?"

 

Mel had been walking by at the same time, a look deep in thought on her face when she heard the idea. She gave a curious look, nodding and throwing up her hands for a shrug as Whitaker thinned his lips, pulling out his phone and unlocking it.

 

"You know what, that's actually a pretty good idea… Do you— mind, putting your number in again…?"

 

Mel peeked over, watching Javadi as she typed in the number. "Oh— Can you add me, too?"

 

She felt hot at the base of her neck. The heat traveled up her spine, sending a tingling sensation down below.

She could feel her watching. She could sense her there. Unable to tell if it was like a jealous puppy or a incessant guard dog, she could only bite her lip picturing the redhead as either.

She didn't turn around.


── ⋆⋅𖤓⋅⋆ ──

When she'd arrived home, it was like a flurry of emotions had taken over her conscious. Like she'd just needed to relieve herself from the stress and tension of the day. She'd dropped her bags off at the door of her apartment, kicking off her shoes and heading for the bedroom. As soon as she'd sorted herself out enough to excuse the mess she'd have to clean in the morning, she had a one-track mind. Falling onto her purple comforter, she shoved her covers to the side and laid idle on top of it for a moment. Her eyes flickered between the plushies lining the side of the bed facing the wall, and the words of encouragement decals on her wall she'd often stare at mindlessly when she was studying back at her parent's house… She wasn't quite sure why she'd brought those when she'd moved.

 

This sucked.

 

It'd already been so difficult to even do anything. Once she got off work, it was like she was a ticking time bomb that would soon explode and collapse dead until her alarm blared at her in the morning. Cleaning, cooking, studying… She'd slacked on reading up on the latest studies recently strictly due to this.

Relieving stress with masturbation felt more stressful than it was worth. How could something meant to make you feel good only make you feel stumped, no matter how good it felt? Sadly, it'd become routine by that point. Routine was something Javadi actually enjoyed outside of the Pitt. At least at home, with some routine, she could have a break. Everything that happened was expected. She could find comfort in the fact everything would always be the same, and she could prepare for it. If attempting pathetically to get off as she sat with a hand between her thighs and frustrated tears on her face was the routine she used to get to sleep, then that was that.

She had a migraine. She was exhausted. She was likely dehydrated and her head felt like it was splitting in two. One devil on her shoulder said she needed to chug an alcohol bottle, from neck to bottom, and take a week off. The other bargained a cold glass of water, ibuprofen, and a good short story to read before passing out. The two always fought, but neither ended up winning. Instead, she was stuck here. In this in-between, this limbo, where she was technically off of work, and should be relaxingbut she wasn't really doing much of anything. Truthfully, she was convinced most got home, thought about their mistakes and the possible ways they could've saved their patients, and passed out to do it all again in the morning. She wasn't an exception. What a way to live. She'd be going to work tomorrow as usual, and she was really trying to avoid giving herself a resistance to pain medicine.

Masturbation was the quickest way to slumber.

Or, at least, it was accessible and didn't cost anything.

 

Slapping a hand across her bedside dresser, she felt across the wood surface and slid her fingers downward until they grabbed the brass handle of the drawer. She pulled it open with a light creak and took out the smooth vibrator inside. Small, discreet, it matched her bedsheets color with a lighter hue. At least if she abandoned her clothes on the floor now, she'd be one step closer to passing out.

Shuffling down her sweatpants, she took them off her ankles and threw them someplace in the dark room. At times, she felt nervous to do this. Like the windows, despite the blinds, curtains and privacy frost… somehow it wasn't enough. Not only that, but the posters in her room staring back at her. All of her plushies against the wall were turned to look away. Sometimes, she even had to cover her eyes.

 

Tonight, though, she felt a draw to her phone. Sometimes she watched something, other times she read. It helped to make the night feel less alone. She'd watch others kissing, others touching and feeling on each other while all she did was lay in bed and pathetically try. Try to find a release, somehow, when she knew it'd never come.

It made her feel perverted, in a way. Opening a porn website to find something to watch, crying herself to sleep and showing up to face her coworkers the next day.

That was what she did, though. Opening the website and scrolling past the first few videos. They were always the worst. Sometimes, she even had to search a key term just to find something watchable.

Skimming over the thumbnails, she paused her scrolling to linger on one.

 

A redhead in a homemade lesbian video, strapped and fucking another girl into the sheets. The scene was dark, only lit by a very dim warm light… She hesitated before tapping on it.

Only because she knew who it reminded her of.

Her mentor, the R2, with that same dark strap buckled onto her hips. The one with the bright smile, the one with tired but warm eyes, even if they were an icy baby blue. Fuck, this was so wrong. So gross. What would she think if she knew? Was it really so wrong if she never told her?

 

The video started out as typical as ever, with the camera being fixed and stepped away from. The comforter was bundled up under the girl on the bed, holding her hips up while she laid on her stomach. The only bad thing about the video was that it was hard to see much of anything. Not only was it dark, but the camera was tilted down to hide their faces. All she knew was the one with the strap was wearing a white tee and a chain, and the one on the bed was entirely nude. The strap looked black, but it was hard to tell if it was that or just a deep navy or violet. Maybe the darkness was for the better, it made it easier to imagine the woman she wanted to see.

Knees on the bed, the one in the white shirt held the other's waist, smacking her thighs to probe them to open. It sent a wave of heat to Javadi's core, thinking about who's hand could be doing something like that…

…and so her own traveled lower. Slipping between her own thighs, spreading with the girl's on screen as if the command was meant for her.

 

Would McKay talk her through it? Surely she would. She was always so vocal about praising her, and that was part of the reason she got so hot around her. McKay would stand behind her, explaining exactly what they were doing and why… Speaking for her…

 

When the strap was lined up and slid inside, the moan that left the woman on the bed almost killed her. A low, long moan erupted and it made Javadi's hips buck into her hand. Flustered, she pulled her own shirt up to bundle over part of her face. Ashamed, as if anyone could see her.

 

Her hand felt over her clit, rolling circles into the nerves that made her hips jump. The woman in white on screen slapped her ass, raising herself off her knees to press the toy into the other. Would McKay slap her? Did she have it in her? Would Javadi like that? She was certain she'd let McKay do anything if she so much as wanted to.

Moans left her phone's speaker, and Javadi joined them shyly. Quietly, as if judgment could be passed through the screen. Her fingers dipped lower while watching the toy disappear inside of the woman, wanting to feel the same as her. Wanting McKay over her, telling her to take it as she pressed her hips into hers. She wanted her to fill her up, whisper things to her that she'd certainly never say… Tell her she was doing so good by taking it for her, and that she'd reward her if she just moaned a little louder…

 

Her fingers slipped inside easily, wet just from the thought. Groaning, she worked her hips to meet herself halfway, the feeling not enough. The two on the phone were in a rhythm, and she had barely started. Hips smacked together, moans spilled one after the other, and all Javadi could think about was the way the woman's chain bounced off her chest the same way McKay's would.

 

The quiet, almost silent question from the one in white about if she was close almost slipped past Javadi, and she whimpered softly. The girl on the bed replied with a 'yes'.

She wasn't close. It was like a taunting feeling somewhere in the distance, too far for Javadi to reach, and so she, frustrated, let her hips meet the bed when the two came together, and she didn't even reach anything near her climax.

 

Swiping off of the browser, she was going to do something dangerous. Something reckless. Opening McKay's contact, she pressed the call button.

 


── ⋆⋅𖤓⋅⋆ ──


"I just— Just wanted to hear your voice. "

 

She heard a shuffle from the other line, and a sharp exhale of breath. It sounded like the doctor had just sat down, clearing her throat. "Are you okay…? You sound—"

 

"Yes! I'm fine." She reassured, face burning with shame. She was back to working circles on her clit, embarrassment flooding her veins when she realized how much better this felt already.

 

"…Okay… Why did you want to hear from me? Did something happen at shift change? Did Santos give you a hard time again? I thought I had told her to knock it off already…"

 

She had to bite her lip to resist a moan from slipping through. The way McKay sounded protective, actually irritable over the way Santos treated her… She was slipping. Her mask was falling, and she knew it. She was able to calm herself enough to muster a reply.

 

"N-No, I just… Tonight's been hard."

 

She heard the woman suck her teeth, the pause a lot longer than she would've liked. Part of her wondered if she knew. If somehow, she knew what she was doing. The disgusting thoughts she was thinking. Like she was the one who had been peeping through her windows, somehow making her worse than her.

 

"Javadi, you can talk to me. What happened?"

 

A sharp breath was taken in, and Javadi held it.

 

McKay wasn't having it. "Tell me."

 

Her demanding tone finally made a whimper slip from Javadi's lips, bucking up into her hand with an aching pain. She needed her, she needed it. She needed to hear McKay, but in reality, she needed her there. She needed her working her fingers inside of her, pressing up to the knuckle and dangling her chain in her face. She needed that strap buried inside of her, listening to the way McKay would praise her unlike the video— How she'd make the porno look like a weak attempt at sex, how she'd raise the standard in just one night.

 

"…What are you doing?" McKay's voice had gotten quiet, hushed and quick as though speaking about something secretive. Javadi couldn't hold back anymore.

 

"I need you,"

 

She whispered it so quietly that she wasn't sure the call had picked it up. Her fingers buried back inside of her, the aching unbearable. It wasn't enough, none of it was, and she was putting everything on the line for it.

 

"…You need me?"

 

McKay's voice was so tight that she couldn't tell the emotions in it. Was it positive? Negative? Was she disgusted, or was she intrigued? Javadi clenched her teeth, letting her head fall back. The tension was killing her, the silence and the air. It felt hard to breathe, and with her fingers dipping into her and pulling back out with enough drench to wet her sheets, she was about to beg.

 

"Baby, what do you need?"

 

McKay's voice had lowered. She'd seemingly picked up on the implication from the way her tone shifted. Javadi felt tears flood in her eyes, pained with the way she couldn't get there.

 

"I-I need you to… to tell me what to do… Please, I can't do it without you…"

 

She begged, her voice a whiny pitch as she bucked into her fingers. Hot wetness rolled down her cheeks, staining them and working down to her jawline. Her thighs trembled, and she hugged herself, sniffling softly in an attempt to win McKay over.

 

"I've got you,"

 

McKay finally caved, and Javadi let out a moan just at that. Freely, without shame, she moaned in her room like there was no one else to hear.

 

"What're you doing right now?"

 

Javadi covered her eyes with her arm, wiping at her tears. "I-I've got two… two fingers, inside."

 

"Shit…" McKay breathed, her next inhale sounding shaky. "Keep going for me, baby. Can you go a little faster?"

 

Her guidance helped. She knew it would've ever since she started. Working quicker inside of herself, strained whimpers left her through her teeth. It felt so wrong, but so right all at once. She'd never heard her say the name baby before directed at her, and it was sending her over the moon. Breathing into the phone, making sure it was picked up alongside her whines and soft curses. McKay groaned from the other end.

 

"How good does it feel, Victoria?"

 

"Good, fuck," She winced, "I-I need you to do it…" With that, her tears came back tenfold. She wept softly, cries and moans mixing together.

 

McKay's voice rasped with her next reply, "I know, but you can do it. I know you can. Go a little deeper, curl your fingers a little. You've got it."

 

"Cassie," Javadi's head leaned back, sniffling as she finally said her name. "Cassie, please,"

 

"I'll be there next time. I promise. You're doing so good."

 

"Want… your fingers… Yours,"

 

McKay's breath hitched on the line, and she made a soft growl of a 'yeah?', her breath just as labored if not more. "So good for me. You wish I was there? Wish my fingers were inside of you instead?"

 

It was like she was trying to made her cry. She was wet enough that she was sure her fingers would be pruned by the end of it, her hand cramping, but she couldn't care… All she could picture was McKay hovering over her, looking down at her with those baby blues, and fucking her silly. That stupid video had ruined her, thinking about the way she'd press her head down into the bed while she fucked her from behind.

 

"Need you,"

 

"My good girl."

 

It was like that name had broken the last tie she'd been trying to unravel from. A louder cry left her, back arching from the bed and hips working into her hand. Her muscles were on fire, the phone slipping slightly from her ear. "Cassie!"

 

"There's my girl."

 

White, hot, the orgasm was everything she'd needed. The peak had nearly killed her, her breath ragged as she pinned the phone between her cheek and the pillow. Drool had collected on her bottom lip, her tears dried by the time she came down. McKay was breathing heavily into the phone, silent until Javadi winced, in which she finally spoke to her.

 

"You did amazing, Victoria."

 

She could've began crying all over again. She praised her so freely, without restraint, every time she needed it. Anyone else would've ridiculed her for the smallest mistake, but even the biggest, like this—

 

"You did the right thing, calling me."

 

She stopped breathing.

 

"Can I… Can I come over…?"

 

A light chuckle was heard on the other end, then a hum. "Why not?"

 

Glancing over her sheets, she caught sight of the small, purple bullet vibrator on the bed.

It was embarrassing how much of a fit she'd gotten herself into to forget the thing that could've potentially solved it all.

Thankfully, it was the best fumble she'd ever made.