i have been a long-time reader of fanfics for almost a decade phew. if you are here, i'd like to welcome you to my journey in writing as i try to find myself in this art that i've been dying to create, which is definitely not purely self-indulgent. I appreciate you for being here!
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some things about me
- i am in my 20s
- english is NOT my first language
- a pervy bisexual
- multifandom! so expect that i'm probably gonna post a lot from different media
- i like to ramble about what i like and love, so tolerance for my yapper ass would be greatly appreciated
â︾âżŕ¨â§ââšââšââ§ŕ§âżď¸ľâŽ
reminder: MDNI!!! 18+
i write whenever i feel like it! but i am open for requests! you can read some of my works in ao3 (cross-posted)
MASTERLIST!
đľ Ë âŽ jack abbot (the pitt).á Öš â ęą
- an exception (+18) chapter 1 / chapter 2
- a little help
- anything for his girl
- quick to snap
- scent that lingers
HEY so theres this fic that ive been dying to read⌠i never got to finish it but it was pretty angsty? reader was jackâs physical therapist and they ended up married with kids but theyâre having problemsâŚ.
dudes i saw this fic MONTHS ago and i never found it again :((((
if any1 knows⌠pls comment the link đ ive been thinking abt it for months
â°âËęŠď˝Ą ex!jack abbot is not fond of the new resident
cw: mentions of blood! proofread a lil
âi swear iâm fine!â you repeat, angling your hand upwards so the blood from your palm pools on your hand and not let any of it drip on the floor.
the laceration on your palm was an unfortunate consequence after naively giving your absolute trust to the MS4 you dragged with you to perform an escharotomy.
he was just handing you a scalpel, how did that ended so badly?
now, youâre rushing to find a room with a suture kit on your non-dominant hand. the new and awfully stubborn r3 named stan, who started 2 weeks ago, is following behind you.
âoh come on. i swear iâm good with sutures! let me at least show my skills,â stan swears by his heart.
you enter an empty treatment room, and turn around to the guy whoâs so eager to help you with your injury.
âyouâre telling me you just wanna show off?â
âto be fair, my main reason is to help you. the other part is secondary,â he says with a sincere look.
you sigh, sitting on the bed. you might as well let him. it would be quite a pain in the ass if you treat your dominant hand by yourself.
âjust live up to your word, okay?â
his face practically beams! oh, he feels like its his lucky day to help the pretty resident.
âi wonât disappoint,â he smiles with full teeth, grabbing the suture kit from you and pulls a chair facing the bed.
đ ďš â ęŠ â đ â âš
stanâs hands are gentler than you thought. head bent close, and brows furrowed in concentration. he grips your hand carefully, âdeep breaths and relax your arm for me, yeah?â
you nod, âyeah⌠yeah, sorry.â
âdonât apologize. youâre doing great.â
you take your gaze away from your palm, immediately meeting his. you didnât realize that he was already looking at you.
âyeah yeah, okay,â you give him a small smile, hoping that it seals how grateful you are for the help.
outside the small bubble you share with stan, jack abbot watches you through the glass behind the counter by the nurseâs station. his eyes fixate on stanâs hand cradling yours, and to your shy smile as the man tends to your wound.
jack knows that smile. hell, he misses it. he knows what it costs to earn it, because he used to be good at itâ
âwhatâcha watching there?â robby nudges his shoulder, putting the chart he was just reading on the counter.
jack doesnât look away.
âthat new resident of yours⌠he knows what heâs doing right?â jack asks, hiding the grumble in his voice or else itâll give him away.
robby follows his eyes, âah that. our overeager intern lacerated her palm earlier. so, stanâs just fixing it up.â
âfuckâ you hiss, teeth digging on your lower lip.
âiâm almost done, okay? youâre a big girl,â stan smiles
oh, the usual level-minded attending seethes. who the fuck does he think he is? calling you big girl like that, voice all soft and sweet? a suture on the palm shouldnât even take this long too, thatâs a quick job for a good resident, and not whatever slow, deliberate thing happening behind the glass like thereâs no one else in the department.
âheâs taking his time about it,â jack points out. is stan not aware of the awfully busy nature of PTMC? for a woman who values efficiency in the workplace, why are you letting this man be inefficient with timeâ
âabbot,â robbyâs voice firm and stern voice cuts him off. that doesnât faze his friend away though.
âwhat?â jack finally takes his gaze away to look at his friend, like robby is the one being insufferable. âwhat now?â
âjust leave them be, alright? leave her be. itâs been like whatâa year?â he says with a serious face, the friendly grin no longer there.
âhow is that relevant? have you seen the number of people waiting out there, we canât have our residents fucking aroâ?â
robby doesnât let him finish and lets out an exasperated sigh. he grabs his shoulders, forcefully steering jack to push him out of the nurseâs station, and drag his ass with him to the ambulance bay area.
âooookay, letâs get some air, shall we?â robby squeezes his shoulders, a surprising reminder that jack is menacingly built and yet he just lets robby manhandle him towards the exit.
through the glass, right as robbyâs turning him towards where theyâre going, your head tips up.
youâre not sure why, but its like your instincts sensed that youâre being watched and you just had to look who it is.
you make eye contact with jack, being escorted out by your attending.
thereâs that annoying little thing prickling in your chest once again. you hold your gaze on his, and your ex boyfriend does tooâ
âand weâre done!â stan pulls your attention back to him. âlook at my beautiful work.â
you turn to stan, and okay, you canât deny that he is quite good with sutures. he has that precision that you struggle with.
âhumble, are we?â you tease.
âiâm allowed. i did good work,â the corner of his mouth tips up.
you playfully roll your eyes, letting stan hold your hand and look at his work from different angles under the harsh hospital light.
your mind starts to wander to why is jack here in the hospital two hours before his shift?
a/n: aaaaaand i guess this is the start of my blurb series hehe canât you tell my favorite jack trope is ex!jack đ
gonna stick writing & posting drabbles/blurbs for a while đđđ i think i got burned out from writing full one shot fics GOD im such a wimp but whatever! im having fun w them anyways
a/n: wrote this nothingburger in a whim! bc god i love how jack abbot loves eye contact. personally, iâd die if he made eye contact with me.
âi hate it when he does that,â you say under your breath, sliding next to ellis behind the counter.
âwho and what now?â ellis asks, turning to you.
âdr. abbot and that⌠eye contact thing he does,â you gesture vaguely with your right hand.
âah⌠he gets pretty intense with it, doesnât he?â your friend chuckles. âyouâll get used to it.â
but eye contact has always made you uncomfortable. you canât even look at a patientâs eyes for too long because it makes you squeamish.
âi highly doubt that.â
âdoubt what, doctor?â jack says behind you.
and of course heâs there. where else could he be? he always seems to pop out of nowhere whenever heâs the last person you want to see.
âthat sheâd get used to your intense eyes, abbot,â ellis snickers.
you glare at ellis, yet you keep your eyes on her. how can you face your attending when your dearest friend just snitched?
âi donât think theyâre that intense,â he slightly grins.
and there it is, youâre not even looking at him but you can already feel that his eyes are on you now. sometimes, you wonder if he has invisible laser eyes because his gaze feels like it burns on your skin.
âdo you agree with your fellow doctor?â he calls for your attention now.
âiâwell,â you turn your body towards him, eyes flickering to his. you immediately retreat your gaze from his eyes, looking at literally anywhere else.
âseems like you do,â jack tilts his head. he crouches low enough just so he can catch your eyes, taking a step closer to you.
it turns into a small game of chase between the two of you, jackâs eyes darting after yours as you keep dodging.
âgotcha,â jack smiles as soon as your eyes make contact. âyou gotta work on that, doc.
âyeah,â you grumble.
you tried your best to keep eye contact. you really did, but how does one keep their gaze on this guy? your resolve crumbled after⌠5 seconds.
âyou can handle putting your hands into peopleâs guts but not eye contact?â he teases.
âi mean, theyâre not⌠yâknow⌠eyes,â you mumble, unable to match your tone with your smartass answer.
jack hums in amusement, âha-ha, very clever.â
he takes a step back, thankfully. âbut im serious, doctor. you gotta get better with eye contact, you can connect with your patients better. that can help you figure out what theyâre not telling you, half the time.â
âyeah, okay. iâll take note of that ,â you risk meeting his eyes once again, as if youâre trying to prove that you can handle his eyes just fine.
âgood,â he nods, holding his hand up to the intern behind you to wait for him over the trauma room 3.
âand besides, people would benefit from seeing how pretty your eyes are,â he says in a low voice, just audible enough for you.
your face goes warm, you wonder if someone turned the heat up in the workplace.
benefit? how can pretty eyes be beneficial? wait, did he just say you have pretty eyesâ?
before you can even ask what he means by that, heâs already leaving.
you watch him walk away with furrowed brows.
âah⌠you know what, i take it back. i donât think you can get used to that,â ellis snaps you out of your lingering questions.
âwhy is that?â you furrow your brows.
âhe never looks at me like that⌠or at anyone.â
âlook at me like what?â
ellis just stares at you, and yep, itâs better to leave her poor oblivious friend wondering. to see is to believe, as one would say.
âwhatever, good luck!â ellis pats your shoulder, leaving before you can even ask any question.
what do you need good luck for?
a/n: LMAO i hope i did ok w this⌠i wanna practice writing on xreaderâs pov more! [divider credits! @cursed-carmine]
âjesus christ,â you mutter dramatically, as if youâre looking at something so obscene.
âwhat?â andrew stops what heâs working on his table to look at you.
he finds you looking down on something, and he can already guess what it is that got you so astonished.
ânothing, itâs just your ass is just⌠wowâŚâ
not again
âquit it, wonât ya?â he huffs, turning his back to you once again. this happens almost every day.
not that heâs complaining, of course. he loves that you love every part of himâ he just doesnât see why you fixate on his ass so much in every chance you get.
a brief moment has passed, and andrew feels your hands around his cheeks, giving his cute butt a tight squeeze.
âmmmhm, fits perfectly in my hands like itâs made just for me,â you giggle.
he sighs in defeat, letting you knead his ass as like its your favorite stress ball.
being the loving boyfriend that he is, he just lets you have your fun, after all, he does the same to your tits whenever he can.
summary: after a confusing argument, jack proposes that slapping him would help you let off some steam and maybe make you less upset with him
jack abbot x resident!reader
warnings: 18+ smut with a little bit of plot, piv, fwb!jack abbot x reader, jealous!jack, avoidant!jack, slapping (dw jack likes it), riding, unprotected sex, creampie w/o warning [wc: 2k]
a/n: ah yes i hope i did this justice LMAO,,, who doesnt love a man who likes to get slapped while you ride him crazy style
Jack should be grateful for how lucky he is. How fortunate that even if you're absolutely fucking mad at him, you're still here, on top of him on his bed, riding his cock with fervor.
Half an hour earlier, you wouldn't even dare to look at him in the eye or to his direction. you can't even stand being in the same room as him when you were still in the hospital.
And yet, here you are.
He doesn't know what kind of pathetic impulse possessed him to act the way he did. He was, to be blunt, quite passive aggressive towards you the entire shift. Unbeknownst to you, it was simply because you spent a little too long chatting with a paramedic named Stan, after bringing a patient in.
Sure, you were being a little too nice and a little too friendly. But you figured Jack wouldn't mind, why would he when he's the one insisting for the past few months that whatever this was between you two was just casual?
Yet on Jackâs end, the ugly feeling that he refuses to name fueled his every irrational thought, so he did what he did best: bury it and convince himself he didn't care.
Jack gave you the cold shoulder for the rest of the shift. Only spoke to you when necessary, yet his voice carried an edge, a little bit of annoyance, that hadn't been there at the start of the shift and before it.
You tried to ask what's up with him, yet he never really gave you the chance to even have a proper conversation in the hospital.
Neither of you said anything on the drive home, his home to be exact. As much as you wanted to go to your apartment instead of his â unfortunately, your apartment building was still dealing with the water main issue, so his place was the default for now. It has been for the past few weeks.
The second the door was shut behind you both, an argument inevitably started.
One thing led to another, both of you are too prideful and too upset to actually talk it out â with Jack not admitting what he really feels, and you being completely confused what has gotten into him. Eventually, you find yourselves hastily stripping each other's clothes, and before your rational minds can even think past your lust, you're now on top of him.
You keep your reactions minimal out of pure spite. Jack's cock has always made you feel incredible, daresay he probably has the best girthy cock you've ever had. But, you don't want to give this guy anything to be smug about.
But that doesn't really stop him.
"Aww, you feel good, sweetheart?" Jack asks with that smug smile of his, keeping his voice steady as he musters everything in him not to moan pathetically like he always would when you're on top â two can play this game.
You just glare at him, not giving in to give him the satisfaction of getting a response from you, breathing heavily to keep any whimpers contained.
"You still pissed at me?" Jack asks. He would have you fooled that he's actually concerned from his words if it weren't for the arrogance laced with it.
He grins when you didn't answer, "You look so hot when you're mad."
Again, no sound came from you. Just an audible exhale when his tip hits the spot firmly, your cunt clenches around him instinctively.
"Shitâ, I love it when you're meanâ"
"Shut your mouth, Abbot," you sneer.
Fucking finally.
You never call him by his surname outside of work. But he'll take what he can get out from you.
"Ouch, now we're back to last-name basis? You must be really upset," he coos.
You grind down harder on Jack's cock, taking him deeper with every roll of your hips. Your pussy clenches around his thick shaft, but you swallow every sound that tries to escape. The wet slap of skin on skin fills the room as you ride him, your thighs flexing with each movement.
Jack's hands grip your waist, fingers digging into your skin. "Fuck, you're tight," he groans, his smug grin never wavering. "Even when you're pissed at me, your cunt still grips me like it doesn't want to let go."
You lean forward, bracing your hands on his chest. Your nails dig into his skin, leaving red marks. The angle lets his cock hit deeper, rubbing against that spot inside you that makes your vision blur. Your breathing turns ragged, but you keep your lips pressed tight.
Jack pants, keeping his curses under his breath but you hear him regardless. His hips bucking up to meet your thrusts, his calloused palms pressing firmer on your waist.
You slam down on him, taking him to the hilt. Your clit grinds against his pelvis with each movement, sending sparks of pleasure through your body.
He's so hypnotized by the sight of your wet pussy oozing with so much slick that everytime you lift yourself before slamming down, there's glistening string of slick that briefly connects his pelvis to your cunt.
Jack takes his eyes away from the filthy scene to look up at you. Your breasts bounce with the force of your movements, nipples hard and aching. His hand reaches out to cup your tit, squeezing the plump flesh before pinching your nipple playfully in hopes of you making a sound â but you stubbornly bite your bottom lip.
Your fucked out face does a bad job at hiding how upset you still are, not that you're trying to hide it in the first place.
He knows that look. He's seen those furrowed brows and hard eyes multiple times before you got into this arrangement. The same expression that paints your face when a patient refuses to listen and insists that you don't know what the hell you're doing. The same expression you wear when someone pushes you past your limits.
You never looked at him like this, not until now â he can't even blame you. He was a jerk to you, undeservedly so. Even now, you still have no fucking idea why he's acting up.
His fingers close around your wrist before you can pull away. He turns his head just enough to press your palm flat against his cheek, holding it there like an offering.
"I know you want to," he says temptingly.
"What?" Your voice is already edged.
"Slap me. I can see it in your eyes."
"Abbot, I'm not that fucking madâ"
"Using that damn name again." He almost smiles, but it's tight, and completely self-aware that you're not. You would never hurt Jack, and that's what he despises about this whole thing â that's exactly what makes him want to push you further.
A slap wouldn't hurt him, it wouldn't even faze him one bit. He doesn't want it just to be hurt, he wants it because he deserves your anger. His irrational jealousy and what came after? He's completely ashamed of it.
If letting you, pushing you, to take some of that anger out on him could make you feel even a little bit better, he'd take it. A slap wouldn't feel as heavy as the weight sitting like stone in his chest.
"Come on, baby. I know you want to."
You're still straddling him, his cock buried deep inside you, your hips moving in that hard and sloppy rhythm . Every time you sink down, your thighs tense, your nails dig into his chest. He watches your face, reads the inner turmoil there, and keeps pushing.
"Aww, didn't know you liked me that much," he murmurs. "Look at youâcompletely pissed, but you're riding me like you're not."
He groans under you, hips twitching up to meet each slam of your body. God, how is he supposed to keep a smug face when you're fucking him stupid? But the stubborn little piece of shit that he is, perseveres.
Can't you just give in to what he's offering?
"God, who knew you'd be this aggressive when you're mad?" His voice is low, taunting, but there's something almost grateful underneath it.
He chooses his next words carefully, gambling that the next thing he's gonna spew out is what ticks you off.
"Yâknow, sweetheart. It seems to me like⌠I can just do whatever I want and you'd still come back just to fuckâ"
Smack
Your palm cracks across his face, sharp and sudden. The blatant disrespect finally breaking the restraints.
He exhales hard through his nose, eyes half-lidded. "'S that enough to get everything out of your systemâ"
Smack
The second slap lands harder, the sound ringing in the room. His head jerks with the impact, a red mark blooming across his cheek.
"Fuck," he breathes, voice rough, cock twitching inside you like the sting only made him harder.
Finally, a grin breaks through on your face. You seem pleased that such an act of violence turns this doctor on so much. You wonder if you have awakened some closeted filthy thing in him?
You bring your hips into halt to not overexert your legs. You start to grind on his lap, sliding your clit on his pelvis, making his cock throb inside you.
"Don't tell me you're gonna cum just from that?" you tease but you're no better. Your thighs tremble as you fight against the building pressure. Every thrust sends heat pooling low in your belly. Your clit throbs with each grind against him.
Jack just smiles below you, his hands sliding to the cheeks of your ass, spreading them open as to let more of your slick drip down on his length to his pelvis.
"I'm just glad my girl feels better now," he says with a lazy smile.
My girl? God that sounds so fucking cheesy and possessive. He's been doing a good job avoiding that endearment for months, but he lets this one slip. For once, he should be true to himself.
Your hips continue to rut against his, as you feel yourself getting closer and closer and so fucking closer.
Jack's orgasm hit him like a whiplash, unable to warn you how close he is that all he can muster to say is, "I, shitâfuck fuck fuck."
Soon enough, Jack's cock pulses inside you without any warning, and you feel the first spurt of his cum filling you. He groans, his hips jerking as he empties himself deep in your cunt.
The sensation pushes you closer, your walls clenching around him as he paints your insides.
You keep riding him through it, rubbing your sensitive bud on his rough pelvis, your pussy milking every drop from his cock. Your own orgasm builds until it breaks. The moans, curses, and whines come out all intertwined and jumbled after holding them back for so long.
"Jesus fuck," you catch your breath, letting yourself fall on Jack's broad chest, his cock still inside you. He holds you tight right there and then, immediately wrapping his arms around you. He pulls you close and savors your warmth as his breathing slowly settles.
You rest your cheek against his, while his hand moves absentmindedly along your back. For a moment, no one says a word.
But you never let your curiosity wind down.
"What's going on with you?" you lift your head, studying his face to grasp anything that can answer your own question.
"Nothing," he smiles, brushing a stray piece away from your beautiful face.
You keep your eyes on him and he chuckles. You were always so headstrong with finding out why things happen for a reason â which what makes you so good at your job.
He leans forward to kiss your cheek, "I'm just tired."
You're not convinced.But you're too tired to argue, so you choose not to push even further â which Jack is grateful for.
Maybe he'll tell you what he truly feels for you, but for now, he'd rather enjoy the calm before the inevitable storm that would come crashing down once he finally has the guts to be honest.
a/n: eek! i hope yall like this đ why is smut so nerve-wracking to write?????
engagement and feedback are much much appreciated! help ur jack abbot lover!writer out by letting me know whatcha think!
âhow to recognize AI in fanficâ â hey so this is another not-gentle reminder that AI stole from us. itâs using OUR words and OUR sentences and OUR styles.
writing âlongâ paragraphs is not a sign of AI â itâs a common narrative choice many writers make both in fanfiction and in traditionally published novels, and AI stole it from us.
using an em dash is not a sign of AI. itâs a stylistic sentence choice thatâs been an option in place of commas and semicolons for a very long time, and AI stole it from us.
long sentence structures are not a sign of AI, but are yet another stylistic choice writers often make to create a cadence and tone that mimics the flow of poetry, and AI stole it from us.
âYA narrative breaksâ? i donât even know what the fuck this means, but i can guarantee that AI stole it from us.
italics are once again a stylistic choice that many writers love to use to create emphasis, and itâs a more stylistically acceptable and traditional form of emphasis than bold or underline text. oh, and just to be extra clear: AI STOLE IT FROM US.
stop creating fandom witch hunts over AI when you know fuck all about what it means to sit and write a story, and to spend hours fiddling with sentence structure and dialogue to get the exact right tone. writers will stop writing out of fear that their work âsounds like AIâ â IT DOESNT! AI STOLE FROM US! AI SOUNDS LIKE US! â and after a while, all that will be available on AO3 is shitty AI-generated fanfiction.
because yeah, people are going to continue to use AI to write fanfiction whether you âcall them outâ or not. but making a laughable thread on X that uses asinine criteria is not going to fix that problem. it will just push the real writers out because people will accuse them of using AI when they havenât, and they will (rightfully) stop writing for spaces that attack them.
