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[zyafics]

don't know what's going on with the drama in the rafe fandom, but wanna say: my account is not a safe space for trump supporters, homophobes, transphobes, racists, and zionists. idc if you don't "care for politics," i do, and everything i create is political.

[lunarayletters]

Not as sweet as you think

Pairing: Jack Abbot x Female Reader

Summary: based on this request to write about DV between siblings. It was later changed from FL to JA here.

‼️ TW ABUSE ‼️ You, grew up in an abusive household, under the hands of your brothers. As you got older, you kept in touch until one night, the same brother who hit you dedicated his speech to you, all in the name of raising money for a charity that helped kids who had gone through abuse. That was the night you decided you wanted nothing to do with them. It was also the night you met Jack Abbot, who helped calm you down after your panic attack.

Two years later, a text message from one of your brothers sends your world crashing down, secrets unravelling, as you go through a traumatic flashback in front of yours and Jack's PTMC friends.

Revenge is sweet, and no one loves revenge more than your darling boyfriend.

Word count: 6.6k

TW/TAGs: abuse, anger, yelling, blood, panic attacks, vomiting, use of nickname: dolcezza, as per anon request, swear words,

Notes: sending you my love, my darling anon <3

ngl not very well proofread. i wrote from the heart, and whatever came out i wrote it down. i dont feel like polishing this story, i want it to be as real as possible

@lacy1986

⋆ ──── ♡ ──── ⋆

‼️ TW ABUSE ‼️

If your life were to be a book, the first line would be: fuck my family.

You can only imagine the shocked and surprised faces of people who worship their families as they read your book. 

How dare you say such a thing about your family?

Because we have to respect our families, regardless, correct?

Fuck no. 

Using DNA just so it's a lame excuse for abusive behaviour?

Another fuck no.

Your older brothers were not kind people — they were messed up in the head, to no fault of anyone but themselves. And the reason for it? There simply isn’t one. 

It wasn’t until you grew older that you realised that what you had gone through was indeed abuse. Because a twelve-year-old getting hit by her brother was not ‘playing’ or ‘teasing’. An eight-year-old getting dragged by the hair across the floor was not because ‘your brother cannot control his anger’. It was simply abuse. 

And to make matters worse? They all work in health care. Care. They care for people when they cannot care for their own sibling. One of your brothers went through med school, pretending to care about patients when his own sister had a purple bruise around her beautiful, small eye.

You hid it well, the bruises and the burns, the heartache and the anxiety. You did so well. And you kept in touch with them, even after you all went your separate ways for a while, because you are their dolcezza, their sweetheart, the one that can never say no to them.

Until one day… you realised how fucked up they truly are. 

You sat at the table, surrounded by doctors, surgeons, nurses, pharmacists and hospital administrators. Today is a fundraising event, with hospitals from all over Pittsburgh attending to raise money for all sorts of charities. You wore a beautiful, sleeveless black satin dress, showing your beautiful skin. 

Now that you no longer have bruises to hide, you show as much skin as you want. 

Your brothers sat on the table, along with their dates. You came along as one of their plus ones — because, being the kind-hearted person you are, you wanted to support them.

Until your older brother took the stage and started his speech, talking about the charity he and his team will be fundraising for. 

It was for a charity, supporting children who had gone through abuse and neglect. 

Was this some sort of sick joke? Your stomach twists into a painful knot. 

And to make matters worse, he dedicated his speech to his dolcezza.

You.

The sweetheart of the family. 

Bile rises in your throat, and you can no longer hear the speech or see clearly. You lose all your senses, and you are convinced this is what death feels like. 

Slow. Painful. Nauseating. 

You kick your heels off, push off the chair and run out right in front of the entire hall that was now staring at the damsel in distress. 

Your brother, however, continues with his speech. Your other brothers, who sat at the table, are now planning revenge for why you did such an embarrassing thing. Their little perfect girl, running away like this?

You sprint down the empty hallway, looking for the bathroom. You needed to be sick. Needed to breathe. Wanted to die.

In a panic and a rush, you run straight into a man and knock him clean off his feet, and fall right on top of him. “I’m sorry” you cry out as you try to move off him, but the panic in your chest is making it impossible for you to stand straight “I’m so sorry!” You are convinced this man was going to drag you by your hair, slap you, even.

But instead he softly says, “Hey, that’s okay. It was an accident.”

You eventually manage to stand up, stumbling as if you are drunk. But you had nothing to drink. You don’t even offer to help him stand, but the man manages to get up on his own. “Do you need a hand?” He asks you.

You try and breathe but your lungs seem to have stopped working “Bathroom- I need - bathroom - i’ m gonna-“ you let out a gag and press a hand to your stomach. The man instantly grabs your arm gently to steady you and leads the way to the accessible bathroom.

Your mind convinces you that he is about to hurt you, hell even take advantage of you in the bathroom but he doesn’t do any of the sort. He pulls your hair back as you hug the toilet seat and vomit. One hand stays on your back, gently moving up and down your bare back, making soothing motions. “I’ll go get you some water, do you think you will be okay on your own for a while?”

“You don’t have to stay with me..” you say weakly, as you feel your the post adrenaline crash, “i’m really sorry about this.”

“You’re ill, there’s nothing to be sorry about.”

“I’m drunk and a mess.” You lie. It was much better to say, instead of having to explain why you’re in this bathroom, with a strange man, vomiting your guts out over your brother’s speech. But the man doesn’t think you are drunk. He’s well aware you’re having a panic attack. He leaves the bathroom for a few minutes and returns to find you sitting against the wall, with tears streaming down your face. Your mascara had run down your face, leaving long black streaks. You looked broken, and he wonders who broke you. “Here’s some water” he says gently as he lowers himself to the floor, “Would you like me to take you home?”

You look up at the man and instantly recognise him — it was Dr Abbot, the one who was speaking with your brothers at the welcome drinks. “I can manage.”

“No worries, I won’t push it.” He says softly, offering you a hand to help you stand. “Do you have your purse and phone?”

“No… no it’s back at the table. I uh…” You simply cannot go back into that room without having another panic attack. You need to be away from them, as far as possible. 

“I’ll grab it for you. Is it the gold purse you were carrying? You are sitting at table five?” Jack recognised who you are, the moment he saw you running down the hallway. Because when someone as beautiful and elegant as you are is in the same room as him, he remembers. “I’ll grab your heels too.”

“Mr Abbot? Sorry Dr-“

“It’s Jack.”

“Why are you doing this?”

“It’s what people do for each other, isn’t it?”

Kindness, such as this, was a stranger to you. 

He leaves you in the bathroom once again, and you manage to collect yourself, wash some of your makeup away and look somewhat presentable. He returns a few minutes later, helps you slip your heels back on, and hands you your things. “Are you sure you’re gonna be okay getting home safely?”

“Actaully, can I take you up on that offer? If it’s not too much to ask?”

Jack instantly smiles, warm and kind. Growing up in an abusive household, you quickly learn people’s smiles, speech and body language. Because at any given moment, a punch can be thrown and you need to duck down. Some smiles can be deceptive and evil — but his smile isn’t. “Sure, but first, how do you feel about grabbing dinner with me? Pancake House is still open.”

“I would love that, Jack.”

Your quick dinner turned into a three-hour conversation with Jack. You learnt that he is an ER doctor who had met some of your brothers in passing, but was not close with them. “I’m not close with them, actually.” You lie, “We don’t speak. Tonight was a one-off.” 

Jack doesn’t question it further because families fall out and argue. Right?

He asks you some more questions about what you do and what you're interested in. He didn't want this to end; it was only when you rested your head on the booth and started to fall asleep that he suggested going home.

He wrapped his jacket around your bare shoulders and supported your sleepy body as he walked you out to his car. You fought sleep, not wanting to let go of this moment just yet.

“I really enjoyed tonight” You say quietly just as Jack pulls up outside your apartment. “Thank you for making me feel special.”

You don’t want this night to end, and neither does Jack. He hasn’t had this much fun in years, and the unfamiliar feeling of butterflies in his chest was a stranger. Until they appeared tonight, he was reminded of how much he missed this rush and excitement. “I would love to do it again sometime.” He murmurs softly, and you admire how good-looking he looks, sitting in the leather seat... his tux shirt is unbuttoned slightly... his curls slightly messy. 

“Do you have any plans tomorrow?” You ask hesitatingly, leaning toward him slightly. 

“I do…” Jack murmurs, leaning toward you too, “I have a date with a hot girl.”

“Oh yeah? Where are you taking her?”

“Somewhere beautiful, but not as beautiful as her.” He leans in, hand gently tracing up your neck as he pulls you toward his lips. “I hope she says yes.”

You kiss him softly and slowly, and you feel safe and content. A feeling you never thought you’d ever, ever feel. “She says yes.”

“Good, that’s very good.” You feel him smile as he continues kissing you. “I can’t wait.”

The next morning, you woke up to hundreds of messages from your brothers asking where you were. They knew where you lived, and you feared that they would come knocking on your door. You texted back, apologising for your behaviour, and acted like the good girl they expect you to be. But little did they know that you handed in your tenancy notice that morning, asking to move out as soon as possible. 

That same day, Jack came over and took you on your first date. And since that day, you became inseparable and Jack never left your side.

It was like the universe had sent him your way.

You kept the peace with your brothers and came up with excuses for why you couldn’t see them.... until the day of your move-out. The day you collected keys to your brand new apartment, which is in Jack’s building, because he was the one who helped you find it and move. You changed your number, and so to them, you disappeared overnight without a trace.

That was the proudest moment of your life. 

Cutting off your fucked up family for good. 

They don’t deserve your love or attention. 

They don’t deserve to call you dolcezza. 

They deserve hell, today and every day for the rest of their earthly life and wherever they go after.

Jack on the other hand, was the only family you needed. It didn’t take long for the two of you to make your relationship official. His kindness and generosity were something you did not know existed. But every day, he surprised you further. You couldn’t help but fall in love with him, and he was the only one you saw in your future.

However… you were carrying a heavy secret that you didn’t know if you could ever share with him. You buried this secret 10 feet underground and never imagined it would ever resurface within seconds. 

All it took is a simple text message to send your world spiralling. 

A simple message, asking how you were, and inviting you over for a family dinner. 

Two years of no contact. Where the hell did they find your number?

Two years of disappearance. Do they know where you live?

Two years of peace and love. From Jack and only Jack. You live with Jack now, so surely they can’t hurt you?

It took two seconds for them to ruin the peaceful life you have carefully created for yourself. 

⋆ ──── ♡ ──── ⋆

It was evening time, and Jack was expected to come back anytime. The text message had sent you spiralling all day, choking you slowly and painfully. You broke one wine glass and two dishes as you attempted to make dinner, and you cleaned up any evidence of what you had done.

Because the mindset you have worked so hard to forget and overcome has now taken over your mind overnight.

Broken dishes often meant broken fingers. Or broken noses. Or broken hearts. 

You don’t hear the door open or close as you stare at the water that is boiling and splattering all over the hob. You can hear yelling and awful cries — but was it coming from your apartment?

It was the gentle touch on your back that sent you into a panic. You spun around quickly, arms coming up instinctively to cover your face, anticipating five fingers. But your heart stopped your arms from shielding your face, because it was Jack who was standing in front of you. And there was no yelling or crying. 

“Baby, are you okay?” Jack frowns at your reaction; you are never this jumpy. There is a look of fear in your eyes that he has never seen before. 

“Yes sorry, all good!” you force a smile and hug him tightly, “it’s been a bad day.”

He embraces yor hug, pulling you against him tightly, “wanna talk about it?”

“Oh no it’s fine, it’s just one of them days.” You say quietly, feeling the panic ease, knowing that you are safe in his arms, “was work okay?”

“It was bad; all I wanted was to come home to you. So I’m better now.” He murmurs in your ear, “How about I continue dinner?”

“You’ve had a long shift — go freshen up i’ll do it.”

“If you’re sure baby” he pulls back, arms gently trace up your body, cupping your face, “I want to quit my job… and do nothing but be here with you… kiss you and love you all day. I hate work.”

“That would be the dream” you tilt your head playfully, “but you have an expensive lifestyle that you need to maintain”

He tips his head back and laughs, and you join him too. But you’re quickly reminded that this lifestyle you’ve curated might not be this peaceful forever. 

Every morning since you received the text message, you woke up after not having much sleep and you checked your phone, clicking on your brother’s number and text messages. It wasn’t the oldest brother who had messaged — it was actually another brother who ‘was not that bad’, when it came to abusing you. You haven’t replied and haven’t blocked his number either. You had so much you wanted to say to him, so much anger that needed to be let out.

But for now, you clicked the phone shut and turned over to Jack, who was still fast asleep. A few minutes later, his alarm goes off, and you quickly jump over him in an attempt to turn it off so he can have a lie-in. It was his day off, so why the hell does he need to be up at 7 a.m.?

As you move over, you knock his phone over along with a glass of water that tips over, splashing all over his phone, which now sits on the bedroom floor. Tangled in the sheets and full of panic, you try and move over but you end up falling to the floor too. You try not to let out a sound, but Jack hears a loud thud and jolts wide awake.

You broke your brother’s phone once when you were seventeen. No amount of ice packs brought down the swelling on your cheeks and you never made it to school that day. 

Your mind reminded you that you don’t have ice packs in this apartment.

“I’m sorry!” you cry out once you see Jack awake. “I’m so sorry; I’ll fix it!”

“Sweeth-“ Jack stops himself. You had asked him once not to call you sweetheart or honey, because the nickname made you cringe. Dolcezza meant sweetness, and you hated the nickname. But Jack didn’t know why you hated it. 

You pick up his phone and walk away from the bed, “i’m so sorry Jack I promise it was an aciddent and-“

“Baby, can you calm down, what even happened!” Jack flicks the sheets off him, but he can’t reach his crutches and can’t get to you. 

“It was an accident I knocked it over and then it fell and I fell and-“

“Baby slow down and come back here, you’re not making sense” he says softly. “Please, just- can you grab me my crutches?”

You shake your head, standing in the corner of the room, hot tears running down your cheeks, “Please don’t be angry”

“I would never be angry with you! Can you just tell me what happened?”

“I broke your phone, and then water fell on it.” 

“And you fell? Did you hurt yourself?”

A little voice in your head whispers, “Dolcezza, did you hurt yourself? The answer is always yes. You tell them you’re clumsy and the bruise is from playing football with your brothers.”

You shake your head, trying to shake the voice out, “i’m good! i’m good!”

“Okay, that’s good.” Jack forces a small nervous smile, “Can you come back to me…yeah? just a few steps toward me. I’m not gonna hurt you I promise.”

Liars. They’re all liars. The voice whispers again.

You take small steps toward him, and with shaky hands, you hand him his phone. “I’m sorry.”

“Apology accepted my love. Now, can you sit next to me?”

You nod and hesitantly sit on the edge of the bed. He shifts over next to you, reaching out for your hand, “I don’t know what’s changed… but I will never be angry with you. Never. Okay?” Jack doesn’t want to question your behaviour any further. Not yet. He wants to study more of your behaviour and reactions before he starts questioning it. Because this… This isn’t a behaviour that’s been brought on overnight. “We’ll soak it in some rice — worst case I’ll buy a new one. It’s nothing really..”

“Mhmm”

“Now shall we go back to bed?”

“Yes, please.”

“It’s my day off today, so I’m getting all the cuddles, if that’s okay?”

“I’d love nothing more.” This definitely wasn’t a lie. You wanted to feel safe again, and his arms were your only safe space. 

“You sleeping okay?” He asks as he shifts on the bed, lying down next to you. He felt you in the night, tossing and turning, and waking up at the early hours of the day. But you always came up with an excuse that he believed. Until now.

“I am, of course I am.” You lie as you turn over to face him, forcing yet another smile. Jack starts talking to you, but your mind shuts off, taking you back to when you were a teenager, reminding you of all the ugly things they did to you as you fall back to sleep. 

⋆ ──── ♡ ──── ⋆

The invitation for Dana’s housewarming party has been sat on your fridge for weeks, but now that it’s actually time to get ready and leave, your body refuses to move. Your mind’s been foggy since the text message came through, and your anxiety has been slowly brewing, and you knew that the comedown will be ugly. You still haven’t replied, and you've decided that you won’t be replying. They don’t deserve you, so why the hell should you put yourself through this for them?

You have no excuse on why you won’t be able to attend Dana’s party, so you brave yourself and head out of the door, over to the cafe to pick up some pastries. Jack insisted he’d come over and meet you but you told him to meet you there. The last thing you truly wanted is for Jack to start questioning on why you’ve not slept, eaten, and cannot form a full sentence without slurring your words. 

“Order sixteen?” The waitress calls out. 

“That’s me! Thank you.” You approach the counter and pull your purse out to pay, “How much do I owe-“ 

Ugly eyes were staring back at you. 

You’d recognise these demonic eyes anywhere. 

The same eyes that stared into your soul when you got beaten up.

That malicious smile..

It stabbed you right in the chest. Suddenly your chest was starting to hurt, your body reminding you the many times your older brother punched you. 

“-ready when you are” the waitress says.

“Hmm?” You finally break away from his gaze and look back at the waitress, “uh… oh.. I uh..”

How long has he been sat there for?

Does he know where you live? 

Is he going to hurt you?

“I’m sorry I uh-“ you turn your back to him, abandoning your order on counter and sprint out of the cafe. You haven’t had a panic attack this bad since the dinner — the same night you met Jack. Except this time Jack isn’t here to calm you down. You’re alone and in danger.

“Well if it isn’t the favourite child” the ugly voice says. 

Your legs can’t move quick enough before he caught up with you. He always caught you, regardless of where you hid. 

“Let’s talk, sis” he smiles as he grabs hold of your arm and pulls you down a quiet alleyway. 

Your body wants to move, fight, scream but his evil stare paralyses you on the spot.

“I’m so happy I bumped into you…” he says slowly, grinning as he leans in. “It’s been a long two years, sis”

“What do you want?”

“The whole family’s upset with you… running away like this?” He clicks his teeth, then slowly pushes you against the wall. “I missed you.”

“Let me go”

“Oh you can run if you want to… but I know that you don’t. Because you miss me. Dolcezza.” His wink sends a wave of nausea through you. 

He is right — you do want to run but your legs stop moving. They’re a heavy and dead weight, and suddenly you’re sixteen again, cornered in your bedroom, while he yells at you, throwing punches around you until one lands on your body. 

“So are you coming to the family dinner? We miss our girl.”

“Fuck you” you spit out, knowing it will get you in a lot of trouble, but you’re done being sweet. You’re not as sweet as they think. “Fuck you!” You yell again and push him off, making a run for it, but you don’t make it very far as he holds onto your hair and pulls you back toward him . “Can’t leave now without saying goodbye? Hmm? I also have your pastries… they’re as sweet as you.”

He shoves you against the wall awfully hard, and your mind convinces you this is the moment you’re going to die. And Jack… oh Jack you never got to say goodbye. If only you told him the truth. 

“Give me a fucking hug, dolcezza. Don’t be a bitch and make me kill you.” He stands there with his arms wide open, with the same malicious grin on his face. 

It’s either this or dying. But you can’t die yet, not until you say goodbye to Jack. You step forward, embracing his hug, smelling his cologne. The same cologne he sprayed every morning, the same one that lingered in the air after he beat you up. 

“Good to see you sis, enjoy the pastries.” He pulls back slowly, leans in and giving your forehead a kiss before turning on his heels. 

The kiss burns your skin, and you instantly wipe it off, rubbing the back of your hand across your forehead. Over and over and over again. 

“Okay, okay” you gasp for a breath, “I’m okay, I’m okay.. okay.” You look at the box of pastries that is now crumpled, and you hold it tight against your chest so your shaky hands don’t drop it to the ground. Luckily you had some wipes on you, so you clean off the blood that now trickled down your face from your scalp. “It’s only a cut..” you whisper to yourself, “just a small cut. It’s just a cut…” 

You don’t remember making it over to Dana’s house, because that fog that took over your mind these last couple of weeks? Was now much much worse. Your legs were like jelly, and with every step you took approaching the door, you felt yourself get more dizzier and dizzier.

“Hi Dana!” Years of faking excitement so you’ve mastered the perfect reaction, “it’s so good to see you!”

“Hello Doll don’t you look lovely!” She embraces your hug, and your body reminds you that’s not ready to be hugged yet. 

“These are for you, I’m sorry the box is.. damaged. Someone bumped into me.”

“No stress sweet” she chuckles, and your stomach twists at the way she said sweet. “Come on in, Jack’s been antsy waiting for you.” 

She leads the way to the lounge where everyone is now gathered, and Jack’s face lights up the moment you approach him.

“Hi baby” he pulls you down toward him, sitting you closely next to him, “missed you.” He coos in your ear; you wish you could feel something, anything happy, but instead your stomach twists in anxiety again.

“Me too Jacky. Sorry I’m late.”

“You okay bub?” Maybe you could fool everyone, but not your boyfriend. Jack’s been monitoring your behaviour the last couple of days, and he’s convinced something has changed but he’s not too sure why. Little does he know, it started when you were just a kid. His hand wraps around you, strong fingers gripping into your forearm to ground you. But again, little does he know, his touch was making you feel sick and panicky. 

“All good.” You force another smile, turning your attention to Santos and Whitaker who sat next to you. 

You try your hardest to keep up with conversations, but ugly images of your brothers from over the years, including today, keep flashing in your vision. It became incredibly difficult to distinguish between reality and the past. Your throat has gone dry, and your lips now felt like sand paper. Reaching over for a glass of water, someone coughs and your shaky hands knock it over and it shatters; glass and water splattering at Whitaker and Robby’s feet.

“Dolcezza, what the fuck did you do that for?” Someone says.

“I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to!” You cry out. 

“Pick it, bitch” 

You do as they say and lean forward to pick up the glass, trying your best to ignore the yelling. But a hand out of nowhere comes too close to your face, and it’s got to be one of your brothers who was about to hit you? Right? No. It was only Robby trying to help you clean up the glass, but you yelped in fear, falling off the sofa straight onto the glass. 

“I’m sorry” you spit out, looking around the room and your bothers are staring back at you. 

“Pick it up Dolcezza. Get on your fucking knees and pick up the mess you are.” 

“Okay, okay I will!” You scoop up the mess you made with bare hands, shrugging off the hands that now sat on your shoulder pulling you back. 

Someone was yelling at you, but you don’t recognise the voice. It wasn’t any of your brothers’ voices?

“I’m cleaning it up! Please don’t touch me!” You shrug the hands off again as you scoop up the glass into your hands.

You’re no familiar to the smell of blood, but this time there was ao much of it, now tricking down on the carpet. Tears, mixed with blood and glass sat on the floor in front of you. 

“C’mon pick it up quicker!” 

“I’m trying” you cry out, “I’m really really trying!” They were going to punish you, you are certain of it. 

The same hands wrap around your waist, pulling you back away from the mess. The glass you’ve now collected has fallen back to the floor and you cry out again. The voice behinds you calls you baby, but none of your family or friends ever called you that.

No one except one.

“I’m here, it’s okay, I’m here” the voice coos in your ear, “baby just breathe with me, hmm?”

“No, no- I’m sorry let me clean it up.”

“You’re here with me, with Jack. It’s just me bub and our friends” he manages to drag you away from the glass, taking you straight outside into the garden, “you’re with me and safe”

“I’m sorry I broke it! I- didn’t mean to- I promise I didn’t” you wipe the tears away, spreading glass shards and blood over your face. 

“I’ll get the med kit” Robby tells Jack as he runs back inside.

“Jack do you want us to do anything?”

“Bowl of warm water please so I can clean her up,” he rasps out, not taking his eyes form you for one second, “she’s having some sort of flashback, I’ve never see her like this.”

“I’ll get the water” Santos runs in, and Dana adds, “I’ll get everyone to move away, the last thing she wants are prying eyes.”

“I’m really sorry Dana” you have snapped out of your flashback, all thanks to Jack’s touch grounding you, “I really didn’t mean to”

“No stress sweet. It’s just an accident.”

“I’m sorry I know but-“

“Hey how about we buy Dana a new glass? Hmm?” Jack says softly as he holds onto your wrists so you don’t hurt yourself, “sound like a plan?”

“Okay”

“Okay baby, now can you sit down on the chair for me? So I can clean you up?”

“I-I can do it? It’s fine really you don’t have to” 

“But I want to, if you let me. After all I’m the doctor?” Jack forces a soft smile, because he has no other option but to smile. “Shall we go home after this? Yeah?”

“Yeah okay” you nod shakily.

“Wanna tell me what happened there?” He says taking the med kit from Robby, and starts cleaning up your hands gently. Robby pulls a chair next to you, and he notices the dried up blood that’s wrapped around your hair. 

“It was nothing, I’m sorry if I acted weird, I really didn’t meant to ruin anyone’s day! Please don’t be upset-“

“No one’s upset baby, I promise you that. Right Robby?”

“It was only a bit of water and some glass. It’s nothing really.” Robby forces a small smile, but it’s clear that you’ve been assaulted because why else would you have dried up blood in your hair? “Hey Jack how about I clean her up and you can sit next to her?”

Jack frowns but Robby subtly points at your hair, so they swap. Jack puts one arm around your shoulder, leaning in toward you. He sees the dried blood and his heart sinks. But he can’t risk asking you question, not wanting to send you into yet another flashback. 

He waits until Robby cleans you up and stitches your hands to take you home. Jack never letting go of you, murmuring supporting and loving words to help ground you, all the way home, until you’re back safe and sound in your apartment. 

“Do you feel like having a shower? “Clean off the blood?”

You answer him but Jack tilts his head and frowns, “say that again?”

“I said I’ll shower in the kitchen”

“Baby what are you trying to say?”

“I said-“ the nausea stops you from saying anything further, you gesture of him to wait, until the twisting and sickly feeling settles. You take a deep breath, and quickly mutter, “I’ll go shower”

“Can we talk? About what happened today?”

“There’s nnnnothing to say?” You shake your head in attempt to focus, “I um my head hurts I think from the blood?”

“Let’s sit you down, I’ll take off your jacket to cool you down” he helps you over to the couch, sitting you down slowly, slipping your jacket off, revealing your bare arms that had a bruise on it. A finger print bruise.

“What’s… this?” With shaky hands he grabs hold of your arm, examining the bruise, “baby who did this?”  

“It’s a longggg story…”

“I have time; I need to know what else they did?”

You shake your head and the movement sends stabbing pains down to your ears and neck, “no no no I promise I’m fine!”

“Okay you have a concussion, baby you gotta tell me everything. Please.” Jack can now see how obvious it is that you’ve got a concussion: the blood on your hair from blunt trauma, the slurring of speech and dizziness. Panic sets in and he can no longer act like he’s fine with whatever this is.

You shake your head again and burst into tears. 

“Okay, please don’t cry hmm? Let’s get you to bed. We can sit in bed and I promise we don’t have to talk. Not yet.” It kills him that you’re not saying what has happened to you.

You nod and do as he says, your brain far too foggy to make any decisions or argue.

Jack sticks to his promise, stays in bed with you, but he can’t look away from the bruise. How is it he can approach a conversation without sending you into a crash down?

“Where do you want to go for our next vacation?” Jack asks softly, his fingers gently trailing up and down your bruised up arm. 

“Anywhere you want”

“You don’t want to go anywhere specific? Anywhere in Europe?”

“I’ll go anywhere you go”

“Anywhere, anywhere?”

“You’re the only one I ever need Jack.”

“Same goes for you baby” he murmurs, “I’ll follow you to end of the earth if I have to.”

“Why would you do that for me?”

“Because I love you”

“I don’t know if I deserve that”

“Deserve my love? What makes you say that?”

“I’m scared Jack”

“Of me?”

“Of them.”

So you tell him. You tell him everything. From the moment they laid hands on, to the night at the gala where you first met Jack, and until today’s events. 

You don’t lie about a single thing. 

Because love is strong, love is honesty, and love wins above all.

⋆ ──── ♡ ──── ⋆

Do you know what’s more powerful than love? Revenge. 

And that’s what Jack Abbot set his mind to, the moment you told him everything your family has put you through. 

He woke up every morning, and planned his revenge. 

He went to sleep every night, and planned his revenge. 

He pulled up outside your brother’s house, and has already planned his revenge. 

Jack Abbot was never an angry man.

But now that’s in love, with someone as kind as you, he’d sell his soul to the devil if that means keeping you safe.

He gets out of the car first, then comes over to your side, slowly helping you get out of the car. 

“You can do this.” His voice is gentle but firm, grounding you to the ground that seems to shake underneath you with every step you take. “Say the word and we will leave. Okay?”

“Okay, yeah okay.”

Jack walks into the house and is greeted but what looks like a normal family. Everyone’s so happy and smiley, but also so fucking fake. He doesn’t let go of your waist once. Not even when your brothers take you in for a hug, one by one. 

Jack carries out with conversation as normal, but his revenge plan was calculated to perfection.

He may or may not have dropped a couple of hints about what they've done to you, but only when you weren’t around. Only when he was with the brothers.

He may or may not have said that you shared too much of your sweet…. Sweet childhood.

Was it dangerous to interrupt wasps while you’re in the middle of their hive? 

Yeah it was so fucking dangerous. But Jack would die for you, if he had to.

He mentions how highly you speak of them. How touchy feely they were growing up. How hands-on they were.

He gives them credit in his mind — for being such good actors. 

He waits until it was almost dinner time, when everyone has had a bit too much to drink. 

“Hey baby, shall we go home?”

“What? Why? Did they say something did they hurt-“

“No it’s just my leg. It’s aching. I think it’s best if we call it a night.”

“Okay sure, I’d love nothing more than to leave.” Jack watched you the entire evening — the person he fell in love with was completely different to the woman in front of him. You’re quiet, nervous, anxious, shaky and jumpy. Oh he could not wait any long for his plan to fall into place.

“Wait in the car, I’ll say my goodbyes.”

But Jack doesn’t say his goodbyes, no. 

Jack hangs around the kitchen, looking at all the pictures that hung on the fridge. Pictures of all of your brothers, and their kids, but none of you.

“Beautiful photos” Jack murmurs. “Shame she’s not in any of them.”

“She was never a fan of taking photos.”

“Huh I wonder why…”

He scoffs, “what’s that supposed to mean?”

“Oh it’s nothing” Jack waves his hand casually, “I’m just being silly.”

“Huh”

“Speaking of silly… how are your kids? Are they silly?”

“Kids are kids you know..”

Jack clicks his teeth, “wouldn’t know, don’t have them, don’t want them. They’re dirty and messy.. and they break things and then you have to resist the urge to smack them. Gotta learn their lesson.” He lies.

“Huh” 

“So anyway, we’re gonna be heading out. Sorry we’re not staying for dinner, but I got you this bottle of wine as an apology.” Jack hands him the bottle of wine, with a photo stuck on the front of it. A photo of your brother’s handprint on you. But just before Jack hands it over, he deliberately drops it to the floor. Red wine splashes against the white kitchen cabinets, along with shards of glass.

“Ooops” Jack says slowly, with a smirk on his face, “you better clean that up.”

“I don’t know what you’re playing at.”

“Me? Literally nothing. It’s just a little birdie told me you sometimes get rough when kids break things. Right?”

“You’re lying”

“And you’re not denying it” Jack shrugs, “or are you? Because the CCTV footage of you shoving her against the wall in that alleyway is more than proof.”

“Get out of my house.” 

“Or what? You’re gonna hit me like you hit her?”  

Jack sees your brother’s nostril as they start to flare — his face is angry and red, his eyes — this stare is a devil’s stare. It cannot be described any other way. 

Bingo. The wasp is finally angry and about to sting.

“Don’t worry she told me everything. Like literally everything.”

Your brother takes a step forward toward Jack, stepping on the broken glass like it was nothing, “she’s a little bitch”

Jack clicks his teeth and shakes his head, “now that’s not very nice of you. Is it?”

“Dolcezza needs to learn how to keep her mouth shut.”

“Why? Is it like a family secret… like a secret tomato recipe like they do in Italy?”

“Get out of my house!” He yells, “before I-“

“Before… what?”

The wasp is angry. Very angry.

“I should’ve cut off her tongue when I had the chance. Maybe the bitch wouldn’t have over spoken.”

“That’s a bit harsh don’t you think? Cutting off her tongue? Maybe a little slap or a punch…” Jack teases, angering the wasp just a tiny bit more.

“The bitch had enough of those. She never learns.”

"Enough of your fingerprints on her? Enough punches?"

"I wish I hit her harder", he spits out.

“Perrrrfect.” Jack purrs. He puts his hand out, gesturing for your brother to stand still. He sticks out five fingers.

He lowers one. 

And another.

And another.

And one last one.

“Boom.” The entrance door swings wide open, and police swarm the house, coming straight into the kitchen.

That sweet look of betrayal on your brother’s face, and the sweet look of revenge on Jack’s face. 

Jack takes a step forward, careful of the glass, smiling from ear to ear, “the beauty of hidden cameras. Say hello” he points at his chest. “See… unlike you I’m a nice guy. And when you’re this nice, and have connections… then well, people start owing you favours. But… you don’t have to say anything because you’ve confessed to more than enough. Anyway…” Jack clicks his teeth, letting the officers handcuff him. “I heard that they’ll reduce your sentence if you tell them what your brothers did too.” 

Jack looks back at the family that is now watching a horror scene unfold. All of their secrets are now out in the open. Someone's crying, others are yelling, and one of his kids... is smiling.

“I’ll make sure you never practice medicine again. Enjoy prison; I’ll ask for all of you to be put together.”

And with that he leaves the house, closing a chapter of your life for good. 

“Shall we go home?” Jack asks calmly as he gets in his car.

“Uhhhhh Jack?” You look in disbelief over at him, “What happened…?”

“Nothing you need to worry yourself about.”

“Is that my brother in handcuffs?”

“Oh yeah” Jack chuckles as he watches him getting dragged outside, “he’s going to prison, by the way. Hope that’s okay with you?”

You burst into hysterical laughter, tears streaming down your face as the absurdity of it all finally catches up with you. As Jack pulls away, you roll down the window and stick your head out, shouting complete gibberish into the air.

Not as sweet as you think. 

That’s what you’d title your book.

⋆ ──── ♡ ──── ⋆

A/n

I'd like to imagine that Jack proposed to her one day while they were in bed. It was simple, quiet, and just the two of them. I imagine that, straight after proposing, he takes her out on a car ride and drives over to a small cottage. Like the one Miss Honey lived in (from Matilda). They get married there too.

I also imagine that when the topic of kids was brought up, she said she doesn't want biological children. So when they start their adoption process, they are matched with a little boy who's four years old. The agency informs them that he has a sister who is also in foster care, who's no older than seven.

I imagine Jack comes home from work, she's outside in the garden, playing with her two beautiful children, surrounded by far too many animals that she's rescued.

Life does get better, you just have to wait.

[barnesdreamcatcher]

fuzzy surprise

jack abbot x f!reader

summary: jack comes home to an unexpected guest—and finds them rather reminiscent of himself

cw: nothing but fluff and a little bit of excitement in the beginning

wc: 1.5k

a/n: ah, so this is not the first jack fic i’ve started, but the first one i’ve finished. hope you enjoy it. lowkey only read it over once, so ignore any mistakes, I promise they’re, um, stylistic choices.  some abbot smut is def incoming, especially after i heard shawn's second episode this morning while getting ready and almost missed my bus because of how distracted I was.

Jack prides himself on having a pretty good gut feeling about your well-being. It’s almost like a sixth sense that lets him know that you’re fine. And that sense hasn’t sounded the alarm yet, but something feels amiss.  He doesn’t get to check his phone for longer than a few seconds every time during his entire shift—only ever allowing him a glance long enough to see that you haven’t texted him.

He tells himself you’re fine. You’re most likely tucked away in bed, sound asleep and deeply unaware of all the terrible things that happen to people late at night—a privilege he’ll never get back. 

But the pit in his stomach doesn’t ease up. 

By the time 7 am rolls around, he’s more eager than ever to get out of the PTMC, get into his car, and drive home to check on you. He considers calling you from the car, but he doesn’t want to wake you in case everything’s fine and you’re asleep. Part of him thinks it might be some sort of PTSD kicking in, a desperate need to protect everyone around him, you at the very top of that list. He promises himself to bring this up in his next therapy session, but before that, he needs to see your face.

The quiet that greets him when he gets home is not the kind he’s used to after years of working the night shift. It’s different, thicker, more loaded. 

And then it’s interrupted. 

A sound he can’t quite place echoes down from upstairs. It’s like a soft pitter-patter, fast and a little uncoordinated. 

Jack’s eyebrows furrow together. The noise is much too soft to be originating from your movements, but he struggles to come up with any other explanation. 

He takes two steps at a time, his leg stinging quite a bit after his long work day/night, as he walks up the stairs.  The door to your shared bedroom is closed all the way—it rarely ever is. 

As suspicion makes space for fear, Jack’s fingers wrap around the lamp on the side table in the landing area. He can’t imagine that a burglar would try his luck in the early morning hours, and he pays more than enough for the security system of the house, but his concern for your safety outweighs logic. 

With his makeshift weapon in one hand, he takes a step forward and inhales deeply before he makes contact with the door handle. 

But just as his fingers touch the cold brass, he hears something. Your voice. And you don’t sound scared at all. 

“Shh, sweetie, you gotta be quiet.”

At first, he only feels relief. Then your words process. And Jack realizes you aren’t alone in there. His mouth falls open.  It’s not jealousy he feels in response to what you said—it’s immediate heartache.

It can’t be, he thinks. You wouldn’t do that. You wouldn’t bring some stranger into the house and—he can’t even bring himself to finish the thought. But then he hears your voice again, so soft and tender as you whisper words he can’t quite make out.

You wouldn’t talk like this to a man—or woman, for that matter. Jack’s confusion grows into utter perplexity. 

There’s only one thing he can do. 

He pushes the door open and stares. 

The scene he’s met with barely makes sense in the beginning. You’re crouched on the floor, a fluffy wand with a feather attached at its end in your hand.  The room smells a little bit like fish, and there is all this white and grey hair sticking to your black sweatshirt—no, not hair. Fur. 

“Sweetheart? What’s going on here?”

Jack is frozen between rooms, the divot between his brows growing deeper. You smile sheepishly, and he instantly knows you’ve done something you weren’t supposed to. 

“Hi, honey,” you mumble, your voice lowered. “I, um… I have a surprise for you?”

Jack figures this was supposed to come out like a statement, but it sounds more like a question. 

“What are you doing on the floor?” he asks, extending a hand to help you up from the floor. You take it, but instead of letting him pull you to your feet, you tug on his hand (the one that’s not holding the lamp) and guide him to sit down. 

“Don’t be mad, please,” you request. 

He furrows his brows as if you’ve just said something utterly ridiculous.  “I won’t be mad, princess, but… what… what is going on?”

You take a deep breath, then mutter, “I found a—” 

Before you can finish speaking, a fuzzy little ball of grey and white shoots out from under the bed. With its considerable speed, the furry thing knocks into the dresser, then disappears under it. 

“What was that?” Jack gasps, crouching down ungracefully to peer under the furniture. “Was that a rat?”

You tut instantly and shake your head. “That was not a rat, Jack.” Your soft laughter fills the room, but he is still trying to get a glance at whatever was currently trying to make its home underneath his socks and underwear. 

Just as you open your mouth to keep explaining, a pink nose peeks out. White whiskers are attached to said nose, and Jack has to admit that it’s much too big to be a rat. 

When the rest of its furry face becomes visible, Jack’s goes a little pale. 

“Baby,” he begins. “Is there a cat hiding under the dresser?”

You smile awkwardly, then nod.  “A kitten,” you reply. 

He leans down even further to get a better look at the animal, then gives you a look full of disbelief.  “That’s not a kitten. That… that is a cat, in every sense of the word.”

You frown softly, and all he wants to do is kiss your face, even though you brought some possibly flea-ridden stray into his house without asking first.

“She’s a baby.”

“She? She? She is a cat—wet nose, whiskers, and four paws.”

“Three.”

Jack blinks at you, then mutters, “Excuse me?”

“She has three paws,” you explain, then whistle softly. The kitten—cat—whatever she is, peers out of her hiding place and glances between you and Jack. He receives a rather critical look, prompting him to scoff. Then she stalks out of the tight space right into your lap. 

The little feline truly has only three legs and a little stump where the fourth was supposed to be. 

“What happened to her?” he asks quietly, reaching out to let the cat sniff his fingers. She does that, rather disinterested though. 

“I don’t know,” you mumble. 

“And how old is she?” he continues. 

“I don’t know. Baby age,” you repeat. 

He gives you a sour glance, but if he’s honest, he is fighting a smile. 

“And what is she doing here?” he questions. 

You look down at the little fur ball and smile.  “I found her.”

“And decided to keep her?”

“Yep.”

Jack sighs deeply and scratches behind her ears. When she starts purring, he’s no longer able to suppress a grin.  “She’s a little sweetheart,” he mutters. 

As if to contradict him, the cat swats at his fingers—at least without claws—and then turns in your lap to look away from him. 

“I stand corrected,” he says. “She’s feisty. You found a little diva.”

You keep petting the cat, who has taken a much bigger liking to you than to him, and look up at him. He knows the dreaded question is coming before you even open your mouth.

“Can we keep her?” 

Jack exhales audibly, then takes another look at her.  “We don’t know where she came from,” he reminds you. “She might have a family, sweetheart, people who are looking for her.”

“But she’s so thin and her- her fur’s all matted. There was no collar, and I even checked to see if there’s a tattoo in her ear, and there isn’t. We could take her to the vet and have her checked for a chip. And if—” you argue, but he stops you before you get your hopes up too high.

“Baby, wait, wait,” he says. “Alright. We’ll take her to the vet, but I… please don’t think about names and cat trees and all that just yet, okay? Let us see what we can find out about her first.”

He can’t believe he’s agreeing to this, but then adds, “And if there’s no chip and nothing else to indicate she might belong to someone else, we… we can keep her.”

The cat jumps from your lap as you fall into Jack’s arms, the biggest smile he’s ever seen on your face. 

“Oh, thank you, honey,” you answer, the words a little muffled as you speak them against the side of his neck.

He gently rubs your back and shakes his head. 

“I can’t believe half the things you get up to while I’m away at work.”

The cat stares at him, her yellow eyes following the movement of his hand on your back rather critically. Jack sighs again, realizing he might have just lost the number one spot in your heart to a three-legged ball of fur. But then again, you’ve always had a thing for strays with missing limbs. 

❤︎ just a quick reminder that the best way to support authors on here is to comment and reblog ❤︎ ☆ find my masterlist here ☆

[da-pitt]

Shawn Hatosy as Dr. Jack Abbot | The Pitt 2.13

[abbotverse]

ER wallflower - jack abbot.

in which jack abbot is the first to notice the wallflower resident of the ER.

summary; reader has always been used to being left behind, and eventually stopped trying to make space for themselves. she doesn't think anyone notices her, until jack abbot starts paying attention.

warnings; fem!reader. use of y/n, use of she/her, probably medical inaccuracies bc all my medical knowledge comes from shows lol, also NO AI used !!! i use em dashes sometimes but i PROMISE this is strictly a no-ai account!! also reader has a cat bc i said so

i might make a part two of this tbh but i wont label it as a series bc then my brain will start procastinating and i'll lose all motivation to write it LOL

The noise of the ER buzzed around you. The muscles in your neck ached, begging to be stretched and massaged. One of your hands came up to gently rub on your neck, the other slowly typing out the chart of your latest patient.

Some of the interns were huddled together, giggling to each other about something. It had become a habit of yours to listen in on them— on whatever gossip they had going on this time. Sometimes, you liked to pretend that you were part of it. That you got to gossip with friends just like they do.

That'd never been the case for you. In your intern year, you were the only one. Already feeling alienated, you struggled to find your place in the ER. Everyone seemed to already know who they were, aside from you.

For a while, you tried. You tried to include yourself. You joined the others when they went for a beer after a heavy shift. But as time went on, you didn't feel any closer to belonging. It didn't feel like anyone was making room for you either. So, you stopped showing up. And no one said anything.

Now, you just worked. You took all the patients no one else wanted. You stayed a little later to make sure another coworker could get home on time. You helped in traumas, then slipped away as soon as it was done.

This routine worked. It'd been your routine for years now. It wasn't that you were a bad doctor, no. You just didn't fit in.

A small wince covered your features as you rubbed your neck again. You truly couldn't wait to get off shift, and go home. You know your cat must already be sitting on the kitchen counter, waiting for the sight of you walking through the door.

"Nice catch, earlier." You heard a gruff voice behind you— one you recognized as your attending, Jack Abbot. Being the eavesdropper you are, you waited to hear the response of the person he was complimenting. You wondered if they'd be humble or gleeful. You know that if you were complimented like that, you'd be over the moon.

The light of the monitor made your eyes burn a little, but you just had to push through this last chart.

Then, you felt a hand tap your shoulder.

"Kid?" Dr. Abbot hummed, looking down at you, the corner of his lips quirking into a small smile. "Did'ya hear me?"

Your eyes go wide, and you swear you can feel your heart jumping up into your throat, making your breath hitch. He was talking to you. No one ever bothered talking to you, not if it wasn't necessary.

"I— er- sorry, what did you say, Dr. Abbot?" You cleared your throat, trying to get your heart to return to a normal pace, the chart all forgotten now.

He watched you for a moment, his gaze softening from playful to a more gentle one. "I said..." His hands gripped both ends of his stethoscope, the one he always had around his neck, "Good catch earlier. With the silent heart attack patient. Not many of us could've caught that."

The apples of your cheeks shifted into a deep red color, your eyes darting from him to your keyboard, then to your water bottle, the floor, keyboard, him...

"Oh- um, yeah, thank you, sir." You nodded in response, already mentally degrading yourself for being so awkward. This is your attending, for gods sake. You should be professional.

But that easy grin rested on his face, and he nodded. "Oh, sure, kid. You're one hell of a doctor. Keep it up." He gently squeezed your shoulder, and walked off. And that was that. He complimented you like it was nothing.

That simple compliment swam in your head the entire day. It made you smile as you prepared your lunch for work at home that evening. It made you hum with content as you settled into bed, curtains drawn shut to hide the rising sun.

Good catch earlier.

It started happening more and more. Abbot would pull you into traumas with him, let you take the lead on them, and then give you a small compliment, and one of those warm smiles. He'd linger when you charted, always trying to spark up small talk.

You never came out of your shell, though. It was driving him insane. He tried everything. But you always shut it down and got back to work. For a while, he thought you might just dislike him. But he could see the small smiles you gave him, and the pink tint in your cheeks at his compliments.

So, he tried asking the other residents about you. Imagine his shock when no one knew anything about you. Everyone just responded off-handedly.

'Oh, Y/N? Yeah, she's a quiet one. Dunno much about her.'

'Y/N? Great doctor. Haven't talked to her much.'

'Saw her a few times in her first year of residency. Then she stopped coming out.'

No one knew anything. That's what made Jack perk up a little more. He tried to subtly keep notes on you throughout the day. See who you spoke to. If maybe you left with someone. Maybe discussed patients. But he got nothing.

You were all alone.

The last straw was when he spotted you slipping into the abandoned wing of the hospital, settling yourself on the dusty staircase, and opening your lunchbox. You even hid away to eat.

He had to fix that.

So, he became a little more persistent. He'd ask you to eat lunch with him, and before you had a chance to decline, he'd already led you into the breakroom, making you sit down with one pinned stare.

He could tell you were a little anxious. So he always made the first move. He'd ask questions that required more than a nod for an answer, just to get you talking. And he would listen. Full attention, eyes glued to you the entire time you spoke.

No dismissive nods, no hums of acknowledgement in a way to just make you feel heard, no. He made sure you knew he was listening. When you mentioned your cat, he asked for its name. He asked to see pictures. When you made an offhanded complaint about the hospital coffee, he asked what your favorite coffee place was.

The next day, a coffee from said place was waiting for you.

[winterswake]

SHAWN HATOSY ANIMAL KINGDOM 3x13

[mongoosemagazine]

Limes (Awkward!Jack Abbot x Allergies!Reader)

CW: allergic reactions, medical inaccuracies, always research this is from my knowledge of allergies and allergic reactions & some research of my own. Reader is stated to be allergic to Citrus & Tomato but more is possible

Summary: growing up you allergies always seemed like the the most awkward confession. So avoiding outings with a high probability of cross contamination became a must. But when you're hot af attenting learns you half-hazardly agreed to a night out, you can't say no.

AN: Jack is kinda OOC here my bad- but I love an Awkward!jack headcannon (i think he'd struggle to approach women after leaving his wif

Based on a request (kinda) from @lunarayletters (show her some love)

WC: 2.6 k

“Hmmmmmmmmmm….” Shen toyed with the paper straw with his tongue, the ER was absolutely dead, usually was around the 4am to 6am stretch at the end of the shift. Usually just coping through a flood of residual patients that came in from a rough night partying. “Never eat pizza again….orrrr all of your sodas are always room temp…”

“Never eat pizza! Are you kidding!?” Mateo erupted as if you’d asked him to choose between his wife and child. “I guess I'd never eat pizza but thats fucked up man-” mateo pointed a finger into Shen’s arm. 

“I would die without a cold diet coke after a shift…” Lena leaned back in her swivel chair with a sigh. 

Shen’s elbow pushed into your arm as you watched the conversation “oh me?” your finger pointed into your own chest, “Don’t like Pizza,” your lips pressed together awkwardly. “Tomatoes make my stomach sick…” A slight down play to the reality of your allergy.

It shouldn't be as embarrassing as it is to admit to someone that you have potentially life threatening allergies. But it had a striking emotional resemblance to having to order off the kids menu in a fancy restaurant in front of all of your friends. 

“You’re kidding- that must fucking suck.” Ellis joined the group on your free side. “No lasagne, spaghetti bolognese- fuck no bloody marys!” your stomach rumbled at the thought, even if you couldn’t eat it, the mental image of delicious hot italian food taunted you. 

“You get used to it…” your chin rested on the counter over your hands which were folded over each other. “The only annoying thing is that stupid restaurants never put it on the menu in meals, so it's like a mystery until it’s sat in front of me.”

“Damn.” Shen’s brows raised as the conversation spotlight landed on you, and well, you most definitely had stage fright.

“Sorry- I made it awkward- my bad-” you stumbled over your words.

“No it’s better that we know-” Ellis bumped her hip against yours, “otherwise we would invite you to an Italian themed bar tomorrow night…” her voice lilted upwards slightly as you rolled your eyes. 3 months in the ER had cushioned you in, still you were yet to meet them on one of their monthly nights out. Bars just weren't really your scene, cross contamination was a constant worry even in high end restaurants. It didn’t help having the most obscure list of allergies that ranged from peanuts to a specific kind of chemical in most makeup. 

“I don’t know” your shoulders curled in on themselves “I don’t do great in busy places in public-”

“All of us will be there and make sure you’re okay?” Shen leaned in “pleaaseeeeeeee” your palm went over his face with a groan. 

“Fineeee” you whined looking back up at the patient board, “I should check on North 5-” you turned to make your way towards the bay only to knock into a solid wall of flesh. The smell of leather and pinewood filled your nostrils as he recalibrated his center of gravity, hands steadying you by gripping onto either forearm. 

“Careful there…” Jack abbots devilishly attractive smirk seared into your retina’s, the angle, the way the fluorescent light caught on the grey stubble which was growing in, picking out the small evidence of his auburn hair now that he had gone almost fully grey. His hands could wrap around your arms with a seductive ease, sending a dizzying flood of blood up to your cheeks. “I can’t believe my ears… are we finally finishing up Wisp’s nightcrawler initiation?” he smirked, throwing an arm around your shoulders and pulling you in under his arm without thinking about it.

You’d kept it down to the single allergy letting “I- Yeah-” your heart thumped heavy in your chest. Either Jack knew you had an absolutely humiliatingly huge crush on him and this was some kind of humiliation ritual or he was completely oblivious which was equally as bad because everyone in the ER knew. Either way, without his consent, you’d decided that there was no possible way that a universe could exist where you and Jack Abbot would be a plausible coupling.

“Well then we better make it a big one!” he clapped his hands together with a wolfish grin, your shoulder aching where his arm had been, clearly missing its company. “Now- get back to work-” his hand patted down on your back and you were all sent off your separate ways.

The end of the shift came and weariness settled deep within your bones, hands cracked raw from the ER’s soap which you’d been forced to use for the last 12 hours, one which you were most definitely not tolerant of. 

The awkward outfit selection didn’t do anything to relax you, the little worms in your brain reminding you that anything you wore was going to be witnessed by your literal boss. And unhelpfully your crush. 

A low cut top- hell no imagine dropping your purse, leaning over to get it and giving the whole emergency department nightshift staff a whole show. Instead reaching for the turtleneck sleeveless shirt which was just the perfect shade of brown for your skin. 

That cute skirt that you kinda stole from your college roommate? Can’t it very much give away your past desire to pick up any old random by basically mooning them. But the summer heat was too much so you instead settled for a pair of decent yet sexy shorts. A brown belt to match your shirt hooked around your waist. The added pro was easy access in case you needed to use the epipen tonight. 

You shoved the thought down in the exact name you shoved the two epipens into the outfits matching purse, tugging on a pair of sneakers and grabbing your keys before heading straight out the door. 

Was walking to the bar at all responsible? No. But it was only two blocks from your apartment, a trek you’d pulled more times than you could count with your roommates after a couple too many cocktails. 

“Theres Wisp!” Jack cheered as you walked into the bar being met by the claps and smiles of the nightcrawlers, his arm landed where it often did, slung around your shoulders patting your arm before pulling away. Wisp was a nickname created by several iterations. In the first two weeks, of you working in the ED everyone swore that they hadn’t heard you say a word outside of treatment. Then when you did speak it was mostly a polite shy whisper. Then “Whisper” was affectionately shortened to “Wisp” which barely fit anymore as they had successfully pulled you far enough out of your shell to handle a large bout of small talk. 

“Hi guys” you shyly raised a hand before taking your place in the booth, swiftly followed by Jack sliding into place beside you. He may be oblivious to the cheeky looks of the crew but you were unfortunately anything but. Settling into the conversation was easier than you had believed it would be but eventually Jack's elbow nudged into yours. 

“Wanna grab a drink?” Jack’s breath fanned over your ear, trying to cut through the chaos of the conversation which surrounded you. You forced out a nod before making your way over to the bar, Jack parting the crowd like the red sea to give you a clear path through the chaos. 

You pulled yourself up onto the bar stool as jack stood by your side, waiting for the bartender to walk over, your knees pressed to the warmth of his tree trunk thigh. “Whats your drink of choice?” you smiled over at him, desperately trying to grip onto sanity at the touch.

“Usually a whiskey neat…” he exhaled his hands going into his pockets, he leaned in to make sure his voice reached you, crowding over you slightly. “But when I’m out with these guys I usually try to stay sober…” 

“Are they really in that much trouble?” you chuckled, staring into his hazel eyes as the bar buzzed around you. Jack shook his head with a small laugh. 

“The stories you have yet to hear,” he smirked, as the bartender approached the sticky part of the bar you’d sat by. “I’ll have a Miller zero and a…” his hand gestured towards you. “Sorry-” he moved over to the table for a few seconds to listen to some random bullshit debate she and Ellis were having.

“C- can I have a Moscow mule? But uh- leave out the lime please i’m allergic-” you offered a polite smile, turning back to Jack, who’d retaken his spot by your side, before you could realise that the bartender sarcastically rolled his eyes. The conversation flowed easily as you waited on the drinks, Jack buffering anyone from moving into your space. 

The drinks were placed in front of you, Jack insisting it be added to his bill. “Sorry- i’m-” your hand went to his bicep holding him in place, “look I know this is forward and probably completely inappropriate given the fact that you’re my fucking boss- but i’m really having fun talking to you one on one and I kinda wanna keep that going?” you physically braced for the injection as Jack stood with his eyes wide staring at you. His head shook lightly before he leaned his body down on the counter with a sly smile. His crows' feet curled deliciously. The LED bar lights perfectly highlighted the pronounced biceps attached to the carved chest which was conveniently on full display because of his tight black shirt.

His eyebrows stayed raised as blood rushed up to his cheeks, his dogtags bounced against his chest as he moved onto the stool next to you, tilting his head over at you. “Uh- ditto…” 

You barked out a laugh “Smooth.” 

“Sorry- i’m just kinda rusty?”

“What do you mean rusty?”

He raised the bottle of faux beer to his lips, taking a gulp as if it could give him a placebo liquid courage. “Well I don’t get to talk to women as perfect as you on the regular.” 

You damn near choked on the mix of gingerbeer and vodka as you sipped it, whole body tingling at his comment. The words stalling in your throat as you glanced over at him. “Wow.”

“Was that good?” his brows furrowed as he held in a chuckle, his hand pulling over his face. 

“Amazing-” your voice croaked as your hand tentatively moved up to your neck, palpating lightly. 

“Are you okay?” Jack leaned in closer to you, his hand moving to your drink, immediately inspecting the bottom of the glass for any residue. 

“Yeah-” your tongue began to swell as you pushed him away gently “bathroom-” you clutched your purse to your chest before making a break for the toilet. Jack stood at the bar his head hung slightly, assuming he had somehow managed to insult you or read your intentions completely incorrectly, despite the fact you had just told him you enjoyed speaking with him.

You stumbled past a couple of lesbians making out on the sink, giving them a polite nod as you shuffled into the stall and pulled out the epipen. 

“Fuck fuck fuck-” the bartender rushed over to the bar just as jack was about to leave, grasping your cup and realising what he’d done. “Uh- that chick you were with- did she drink this?”

“Yeah…” Jack turned slowly, his gut dropping. 

You fumbled with the cap feeling your lungs burn and scratch for air, sweat collecting on your brow as your tongue tingled. “Fuck-” the needle stung as you pushed down against your thigh.

“Fuck- you might um-” the bartender ran a hand through his hair, his shoulders tensed up as he smelled the drink. “You need to go check on her- I mixed up her order- that girl over there just complained her mule had no lime- so i must have- mixed them up-”

“Thats…not a huge deal-”

“She said she’s allergic to lime-” Jack moved as quickly as he could, the door clattering against the adjacent wall, pausing only slightly to see the girls separate and rush out to find somewhere more private. “Ladies-” he gulped, ducking his head and pounding on each bathroom door to find you, yelling your name. 

You unlocked the door, wheezing giving away your presence. You put your palm out with two pens in hand, Jack's heart dropping. “It’s okay- you used it- okay-” he inspected the pen seeing the 3 year old expiry date. “Do- do you feel better?” 

You nodded “only a little- the first one didn- didnt work and- the second one- helped-”

“We’re gonna go to the ED come on-” he pulled you off the toilet, holding your bag and parting your way outside of the bar. “We’re taking my truck come on-” he basically dragged you out of the bar and lifted you into his car as time passed. He figured the bar covering the bill was the least they could do. 

“It’s getting better-”

“You know reactions can come back it’s always better to go to the hospital- especially when epipens past 2 years expiry are only- 80% effective-”

“Do you always rattle off medical shit when you’re stressed-” Jack’s head snapped over to you for a few seconds, worry baked into his perfect brow furrow. He stumbled over his words as he put the car into gear.

“Yeah- yeah I do-” he sighed before taking off, driving as responsibly as possible towards the hospital. He couldn't help but stare over every few seconds to check in on your condition “how’s your throat-?”

“Never had complaints-” your hand shot over your mouth as Jack let out an unintelligible sound of pure surprise. “Sorry i think the adrenaline makes me lose my filter-”

“Uh- I-” Jack shook his head, flustered beyond belief.

“I don’t know why i said that- i’m not like-” 

‘Stop- don’t say anything else- I think you’ll kill me if another word leaves that mouth of yours-"Jack pulled into the parking lot, stepping out into the night and just taking a moment to regain his sanity. You stepped out, making your way down to the ER with him. 

You laid in the hospital bed, just needing to be monitored for a few hours as jack stayed posted up by your side. “You know you should tell me all your allergies just in case…” Jack held your chart on his lap.

“I’m not allergic to any medication thankfully- don’t respond well to morphine but otherwise not relevant-”

“No I mean…” Jack rested his hands on the handles of your bed leaning in over you slightly. “I should know, for when I take you out to breakfast.”

Taglist: @imstressed17, @phantomtea19, @sous-les-sakura-blog, @pastorquack, @miraclesabound, @madi-reads-things, @lilmisslexapro, @geek-trying-to-breath, @seph8 , @lovvrr , @angelamariaxo, @bluelineandpitlanearchive, @sleepylunarwolf, @isthatachickennn, @hexsnare@perksofbeingatrex, @ilocuras24, @momdancingtomcr, @emma8895eb, @babyspiceeeeeeee, @mevlliflous, @lilyxxox

[shadeofpeach]

450 mg/dL ; we’re a team

Pairing: Dr. Jack Abbot x teen!daughter!reader (diabetic) Warnings: angst, T1 diabetes, father-daughter dynamics, hyperglycemia, kinda panic attack, minor Injury, soft, comfort, fluff, chronic illness struggles. Summary: Jack expects to treat a simple ankle sprain. Instead, a routine finger prick reveals a hard reality.

A/N istg this sounded better in my head 🫠

Disclaimer: This story is pure fiction and written solely for entertainment purposes.

Based on this 🎀 and this request 🎀 more diabetic!reader ; dad!abbot fics

You were gripping your school counselor’s shoulder, tears streaming down your face as you hobbled on one foot through the ER.

You had taken a nasty tumble down the stairs at school. The pain in your ankle was blinding, already swelling to the size of a baseball.

"Hello, can we get Dr. Abbot?" the counselor called out urgently to a nurse. "His daughter fell at school. We think she broke her ankle."

Within seconds, Jack was there rushing to your side.

"I've got her, thank you," Jack told the counselor, gently scooping you up into his arms to carry you directly to Exam Room 3. "Let's get some ice on this and get X-ray down here right away," he directed the nearby nurse.

As he set you down on the gurney, you let out a sharp cry, clutching your leg. "It hurts, dad. It hurts so bad."

"I know, baby, I know. I'm going to look at it," Jack murmured as he carefully unlaced your sneaker. He gently palpated the joint, causing you to wince and pull away. "It looks like a severe sprain, maybe a hairline fracture. We'll get the films to be sure." He paused, his brow furrowing as he looked up at your face. "Are you okay, bug? You look... Did you check your numbers?"

"I'm... I'm fine." you lied.

But Jack’s eyes narrowed. "You're flushed," His medical instincts took over. Jack grabbed a glucometer from the wall cabinet. "Give me your finger."

"Dad, no, I'm okay, my ankle is—"

"Give me your finger, now."

He pricked your finger, the machine beeped and when the digital display finally flashed, Jack's face went completely blank.

450 mg/dL.

"Four hundred and fifty, what the hell?" Jack whispered. He looked at you, the worry for your ankle completely forgotten. "Your ankle is the least of our worries right now, sweetheart. You’re in severe hyperglycemia."

He immediately turned to the nurse who had just walked in with the portable X-ray machine. "We need a standard insulin protocol immediately. She's staying."

"Dad, please, I don't need to stay," you pleaded, your voice cracking as the mix of pain and the high blood sugar began to make your head spin. "Just wrap my ankle and let me go. I'm fine."

"You're not fine," Jack said as he helped the nurse secure the IV in your arm. "Your blood sugar doesn't just spike to four hundred because of a sprained ankle."

He stepped closer to the gurney. "Are you checking your numbers at school? Are you bolusing for what you eat?"

You rolled your eyes, choosing to play dumb. "Yes dad, I took my dose today," you muttered.

Jack closed his eyes, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Please don't lie to me, this is serious."

"I'm not lying to you!" You said in a somewhat aggressive and annoying way, a symptom that Jack recognized when your blood sugar was out of range.

"Okay, we'll talk later when your numbers stabilize." Leaving you to let the IV fluids run, Jack stepped out into the hallway.

There, he found your classmate and best friend Chloe sitting anxiously in the nurse area. She had walked with you and the counselor to the hospital.

"Hey, Chloe," Jack said approaching her.

"Is she okay, Dr. Abbot?" Chloe asked, clutching her backpack. "She looked so pale. And she’s been looking really tired lately, I don't get it why she fall like that."

"Yeah, we're gonna take some X-ray for the ankle and… we have to stabilize her glucose. She's pretty high." Jack offered to reassuring nod. "Chloe… Can I ask you something? Have you noticed her acting differently? Does she seem to struggle with her insulin routine at school?"

Chloe bit her lip. "I... I don't want to get her in trouble..."

"It's okay, I just need to know how she's doing at school."

"Honestly? I'm a little worried, Dr. Abbot. I don't think I've seen her use her pen or check her levels this week. She always says she already took her shot in the bathroom. But she never actually carries her kit with her."

Hearing those words felt like a cold bucket.

-

A bit later, Jack stood by the door before he stepped over to the side of your gurney. He didn't look at you right away. He reached for the IV pole, adjusting the drip rate.

"Alright," Jack started. "Here's what's going to happen. The IV is administering a rapid-acting insulin protocol along with a high dose of saline to clear the ketones from your system. I've ordered a full lab. We're going to bandage your ankle to immobilize it, but we've postponed the X-rays until your blood sugar is below 200. And you're going to stay under observation until tomorrow. No exceptions."

You kept your eyes glued to the far wall, your hands clutching the rough hospital blanket. "Fine," you mumbled. "Whatever."

Jack walked around to the other side of the gurney, stepping directly into your line of sight so you couldn't avoid him anymore. He bend down slightly to meet your eyes.

"Now let's talk about how we got here," Jack said. "I want, and need, you to tell me exactly how you’ve been managing your doses at school. Are you really checking your numbers? Actually injecting the correct units for what you're eating?"

You swallowed hard. You forced yourself to look at him, putting on the most convincing face you could muster. "Of course I am, Dad. I told you, I do it every day. I use the pen in the bathroom before lunch."

"Every day?" Jack pressed, his eyes narrowing.

"Yes! Every day," you lied, raising your voice slightly to sound defensive. "I don't know why my blood sugar is this high. Maybe the insulin got warm in my bag, or maybe my hormones are just messing with my levels. You know that happens! I'm doing everything right."

Jack’s face shifted. The worry in his eyes hardened into anger.

"Are you? Don't lie to me," Jack snapped. "Don't you dare play dumb and lie to my face."

"I'm not—"

"I just spoke to Chloe," Jack cut you off, his voice rising a little. "She has not seen you check your blood sugar or carry your insulin kit this week. You haven't been taking your insulin at school at all, have you?"

"Chloe doesn't know what she's talking about—"

"She's worried, too, like me!" Jack roared. "Stop lying! You could die from this! You could pass out one of these days and you will not just have a broken ankle, you could be in a coma… or even worse! I trust you with this and I keep beliieving you're being safe. Only to find out you've been sitting around slowly poisoning yourself!"

His chest heaved as he stared at you, his eyes bright with tears.

For minutes, the room fell into silence.

You kept your face turned completely away from Jack, staring hard at the floor, your jaw clenched so tight it ached. You tried to swallow the rising lump in your throat, tried to blink back the stinging behind your eyes.

You wanted to keep the walls up.

You wanted to stay angry, to stay defensive, to play dumb.

But under your dad’s heartbroken gaze, the silence became too heavy to bear.

Out of nowhere, your shoulders hitched.

A tiny sob escaped your lips.

There, you broke.

The tears spilled over, soaking your face. You buried your face in your hands, your entire body shaking violently as the confession tore out of you, loud and desperate.

"I... I hate it!" you wept. "I don't do it because I hate it so much."

Jack froze. His furious posture shattered. Seeing you collapse into yourself, so broken, washed all the anger right out of him.

"I hate pulling out a needle in the middle of the cafeteria, dad," you sobbed, gasping for air as the words rushed out of you frantically. "I hate the way everyone stops talking and just stares at me like I'm some kind of freak. I hate the look of pity on the teachers' faces when I have to ask to go to the bathroom before the lunch break. I feel so weird, dad. I feel so embarrassed. I just want to be normal. It's so annoying that everything in my life relates to this stupid disease."

Jack walked to the side of the gurney and gently guided your trembling hands away from your face.

"Hey..." Jack murmured, his voice going completely soft. He wrapped his arms around you and pulled you tightly against him. You collapsed, burying your face in his scrubs, weeping inconsolably as he rocked you gently back and forth. "it's okay, bug, I'm here, I'm listening to you."

He tightened his grip around you when your breathing became shallow and rapid. Your chest heaved, and you clutched at the fabric of his scrubs, your fingers trembling violently.

"I hate- Dad, I don't want this anymore," you gasped out. The room felt like it was spinning, the sound of the heart monitor accelerating into a frantic rhythm that mirrored your racing heart. "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, I messed everything up but I—"

"Shh, It's okay," Jack shifted slightly to press one palm flat against your back, rubbing it. "I need you to take a breath for me. Calm a little. Come on… I'm not angry."

You tried, letting out a sob before your lungs finally caught the rhythm.

"There you go. You're okay, kiddo. I've got you," he whispered, resting his chin gently on top of your head. "You didn't mess anything up. We're dealing with a bump in the road."

"I don't want to be like this," you whispered, being exhausted. "I'm just so tired of carrying it all."

"I know. I know you are, and I am so sorry I let you carry it alone," Jack said. He squeezed you tighter, wishing he could simply absorb the illness, the embarrassment, and the exhaustion right out of you. "But you don't have to carry it by yourself. I'm your dad. I'm supposed to help you shoulder the heavy stuff."

He pulled back to look you, his thumbs gently wiping away the tears on your cheeks. He gave you a soft smile, the dad smile that always made you feel safe.

"We are going to make this work," Jack promised. "Whatever we have to change, we'll change it. We'll find a routine that doesn't make you feel singled out. We'll talk to your school, we'll look at different technology; whatever it takes. We're going to do it together. Okay? We're a team."

When the tight knot of panic in your chest began to loosen, you leaned back against him, nodding weakly.

"Okay, dad," you whispered.

"That's my girl," Jack murmured, kissing the top of your head as the IV fluids did their work, bringing a sense of peace back into your world.

⋆｡˚☤🩺✧˖°.｡⋆💉

the pitt masterlist

[nattybearr]

I'm Your Man

pairing: rabbot x illegal boxer!med student!reader

summary: you’re the typical broke med student, willing to do anything it takes to survive. Much to your dismay, abbot and robby are more than willing to find out exactly what you've been doing to survive.

wc: 1.4k

content warning: age gap (reader early 20s, jack/robby late 40’s/50’s) medical inaccuracies, mentions of abuse and self harm, half proofread, kinda angsty

──────────────────────

Get up. You have to eat. You can’t go another day going off the taste of blood and excess adrenaline. You’re going to crash, you’re going to die. Get. Up.

Blood drips from your head onto the red-stained concrete. You can barely see out of your right eye, but you get up anyway. Your heart pounds against your ribcage, fighting to break out. There's a warm sensation flowing through your body; it's so comforting you almost fall into it like a cat in warm laundry. You stand; foreign blood drips down, and the cheers of the crowd are muffled in your ears.

──────────────────────

It’s almost time to go, to go rest and take a bath or drown yourself in red wine. Yet here you are, standing on cold linoleum floors and basking in fluorescent lights, so far away from home. Not that you were going home anyway; you had plans after work. 

“Long shift, huh?” McKay chuckles at the way you try to stifle a second yawn.

“Yeah, something like that.” You crack your neck and close your eyes pushing the noise in the background further away until you feel a tap on your shoulder.

“Hey,” To your surprise it’s Santos. “A couple of us are going out tonight; you wanna come?” You can’t read her. You never could.

“I’m sorry, I’ve got other plans tonight. Maybe next time.” You politely decline, for the millionth time. She nods with tight lips and walks away. You turn around and hear from a distance,

“I told you she was gonna say no.”

“It’s worth asking anyway; I mean we see each other 12 hours a day.” Whitaker's lame attempt at trying to slap away Santos’ cynical attitude.

“How ‘bout instead of gossiping about your peers, you go save some lives?” Robby surprises them with a firm shoulder shake, letting them scatter. He stares at you with his arms crossed. You weren’t exactly the most open person for someone so bubbly and bright. He knows you’re always busy and even more private than he is. You’re incredibly kind and soft-spoken, especially with children and seniors. He also knows that you like to hide bruises. 

He first noticed when you reached for something overhead in the supply closet, revealing a small bruise on your side. He figures that you had an extra fun night out with a boyfriend or a one-night stand. Odd place for a hickey, but who is he to judge? Another time he noticed the very edge of a purple bruise on your shoulder when your scrub top shifted. It’s only when you started wearing turtlenecks every day that he started to worry. He’s been meaning to talk to you about it, but every time he gets the chance to, another trauma comes in, or someone is trying to get his attention. Fortunately for Robby, someone else took notice.

──────────────────────

Jack catches on to your secrecy quickly. He notices the way you pull down your sleeves every second your hands aren’t busy, how you wince slightly when someone bumps into you accidentally, how quickly you tense up and shut down the idea of hanging out with anyone outside of work. His mind goes to the darkest spot: someone's hurting you, and you aren’t speaking up about it. Worst of all, he can’t help you; even worse, he can’t even come near you or speak to you for more than a minute. If he tried to talk to you about anything but procedure, you would politely brush him off. Despite your softness, you’re strictly business. No distractions, only patients. Unfortunately for your secret, this attitude of yours only makes him want you more. He wants to be let in all the walls you put up, to explore the inner workings of your mind and learn all your favorite things. 

Your last two hours are up, and you’re beelining for the door. That is, until a firm chest stops you mid-step.

“And where do you think you’re going, little miss?” You look up and discover two pale eyes looking at you.

“Um, home?” You answer with a confused look that makes his heart skip a beat.

“Okay, well, I think there are some things we need to talk about.” He lowers his voice, “With Robby.” He looks at Robby from across the room, motioning him to come over.

You panic, trying your best to hide it. “Can this wait until tomorrow? I really have to get home.”

“I don’t think it can, sweetheart. Come on.” He ushers you into an open room, gaining looks from the nurses and other staff. He draws the curtain closed as Robby walks into the room, clicking the door shut behind him. 

Your cheeks are heating up uncontrollably; it’s only your luck that gets you into a private room with two attendings you happen to be very attracted to.

Robby sighs deeply, unprepared to have this conversation. “I think it’s best if we cut to the chase. Jack and I noticed your bruises. It’s my duty as Chief to make sure that my staff is safe and okay to work.” He looks down at you with his hands in his jacket pockets. “Are you safe, and is there anything I need to know about that could be hindering your ability to work?”

“I’m sorry-” You shake your head,” What is this? What’s going on?” Your eyes can’t choose who to look at.

Abbot repeats Robby’s question, “Are you safe and okay to work? Should be a simple yes or no.”

“Yes, I am safe and okay to work.” You answer begrudgingly, “Can I go home now?” You start to get a little irritated, breaking your soft demeanor for once. You go for the door but a large hand stops you, you internally curse yourself for wincing.

Robby scratches his beard, “You see, kid, I don’t think you are. I think you’re hiding something under your scrubs that you don’t want us to see.”

“Dr. Robby,” You say with a firm voice, “That is highly inappropriate.”

“If inappropriate is what it takes to find out why you just flinched then I will be inappropriate.” He raises his voice, just enough to get his point across. “If something is going on that might cause liability issues then I would like to know about it.”

“No, nothing is going on. I’m fine.” You insist.

“I kind of have to question that when you’re limping when you think no one's looking or when I see you taking 11 blades from the suture cart.” He looks at you with hard eyes. You start to sweat under his gaze. 

“Be straight with me kid, are you self-harming?” Abbot asks.

Your eyes go wide, and a scoff leaves your mouth without thinking. “You think I’m self-harming? Besides that, you think I’m a potential liability?” He looks away from you. “No, Dr. Abbot and Dr. Robby, I am not self-mutilating with hospital supplies. And I would appreciate it if-”

“Lift up your sleeve.” Jack interjects.

“Excuse me?”

“You heard me, lift up your sleeve or I will do it for you.”

“No, I won’t do that-”

“I guess I’m doing it for you.” He comes towards you, placing a firm grip on your wrist while scrunching your sleeve to the crook of your elbow. He inspects it, “Active defensive wounds on the posterior.” 

“How’d you get that?” Robby asks in a hushed tone.

“It’s nothing.” You yank your arm back, shoving the sleeve back.

“Nothing? Sweetheart you have multiple bruises at different healing stages on your arm. That ain’t nothing.”

Your heart is pressing up against your throat, threatening to jump out. “I promise, I’m fine. Will you let this go, please?” You plead. It’s the only thing you have left to try and get out.

“If someone is hurting you then we can help, you just have to be honest.” Robby puts a comforting hand on your back.

“Nobody is hurting me, and I’m not doing whatever you think I am to myself. I’m sorry for stealing hospital supplies, it won’t happen again. Just, please Robby, I want to go home.” You look down at your shoes feeling smaller than ever.

The two men exchange looks before finally letting you go home.

“Don’t think this is over.” Robby calls out to your back.

──────────────────────

“That went incredibly well.” Jack remarks sarcastically.

“Yup. So well.” Robby drags his hands across his face.

“I still think she’s hiding something.” 

“Yeah man, you think?” Robby scoffs, “Sorry, sorry, I just- shit.” He sighs, “Can’t even fucking get close enough to ask her anything.”

“I’ll find out.” 

Michael laughs, Jack doesn't.

“What, are you gonna stalk her?”

“No, put her on night shift. It’s quieter, more opportunities to get her to open up.” 

“Are you serious right now?” 

──────────────────────

[lunarayletters]

The perfect list

Summary from request: jack abbot x nurse reader who has scoliosis and suffers with chronic pain from it. Maybe she feels inferior to her colleagues because she can’t do as much as them in terms of transfers and moving beds etc.

Pairing: Jack abbot x reader!girlfriend

Word count: 3k

TW/TAGs: anything medical you’d expect to see on the Pitt, mention of pain and injury, hurt/comfort, jack is protective and so in love ;)

Notes: one shot fic, dialogue heavy

Scoliosis is an abnormal curvature of the spine. There are many types of it, but given that the request did not specify which one, I’ve picked idiopathic scoliosis which is the most common type. It can cause pain, ranging from mild to severe, as well as weakness and numbness, decreased mobility, fatigue and limited flexibility. Complications include long-lasting pain, physical deformities and nerve damage.

Every condition and illness is a spectrum and not everyone will have the same symptoms.

Please don’t self diagnose based on anything written in this fic.

⋆ ──── ♡ ──── ⋆

You have always aspired to be perfect in anything you do, but as you grew older and started your nursing career, physical limitations had to be implemented so you don’t injure yourself.

Jack Abbot knew that you have always felt insecure about not being able to fulfil some of you duties at work and it never, ever bothered him or anyone else, except you. Jack fell in love with you not because you are a great nurse, but because you are an amazing person who is kind, hard working and wonderful. No matter how much he told you how brilliant you are, at home and work, you never fully believed it. So Jack came up with a different way to show just how great you really are. The perfect list.

⋆ ──── ♡ ──── ⋆

It was around midnight that the ache in your back starts to bother you, but worry not because Jack would be on the case reminding you to catch up on charting. A subtle way of telling you to sit down and have a break, without showing favouritism. It was you, actually who told him off for caring way too much about you at work, whereas Jack on the other hand would have shouted it from the rooftop for the entire city to hear on how much he truly cares about you.

“I still have a few patients to see”

“Don’t care” Jack gives you a lazy smile, “sit down”

“Abbot-“

“Who the hell is Abbot!”

“Baby stop…”

He immediately smirks at the way you softly say baby, “that’s it… I was wondering if I was put in the dog house for a minute..”

“I have so much to do”

“And I…” he leans in, “don’t care”

You shake your head at him in disappointment, but still do as he says and sit down. 

“Now what would you like to drink?” He asks, still smirking, clearly pleased with his bossy tone that you cannot resist.

“Don’t you have patients to attend to?”

“That’s what residents and med students are for… they’re like my minions. They as they are told”

You giggle and turn your attention back to the computer. “Baby go do some work, if I want a drink I can make it myself.”

He huffs awfully loudly at you, “okay little miss independent. I guess you don’t need me anymore!”

Before you can say anything, he walks away in a strop and you can’t help but laugh at him. You love how much he loves you, but you also worry about how much he worries about you. 

Your sitting down break doesn’t last very long before you get called away, just as Jack was coming back to see you with a hot drink. He watches as you run off in the distance and puts both hands out in protest but you shrug and run into the room. 

“What do we have?” You ask as you put your gloves on. 

Parker replies, “T-bone accident, mobilised with c-spine. We need to be careful transporting him onto the bed.”

You look around the room and not enough bodies are in here to help transfer the patient. You grab onto the gurney, but Parker immediately cuts in, “don’t you dare! Go get someone else”

“I can do it” you shouldn’t do it, but the patient needed to be moved asap. A small part of you desperately wanted to prove to everyone that you can do anything.

“Abbot would kill me, go get someone else.”

You shake your head at her and get hold of the gurney, “I’ll deal with Abbot later. On your count?”

The patient transfer goes smoothly, but your back immediately protests the movement and you feel a sharp pain shoot up your spine. Parker watches your reaction as you grunt in pain, but then focuses on the patient in front of her, immediately making a mental note to check on you later. Once the patient is stabilised and ready to be transferred to CT, you offer to take him up but she immediately rejects your offer. “Go get someone else” she says firmly.

“I said I can do it.”

“I know you can” she says calmly, “doesn’t mean you should.”

“But-“

She walks over to you and leans in, “I can’t have you injured because the floor can’t lose its best nurse.“

“I don’t feel like I’m the best right now, or any other day.” You mutter as you feel heat creep up to your cheeks, and you swallow back your tears. You do as she says because at the end of the day she is the lead on this case. 

Two hours later, the pain is now terrible, and you’ve taken pain relief that doesn’t seem to touch it. Usually it’s manageable if you avoid any activities that would trigger pain to this extent, but in this case, there was no helping you. You power through your feelings, and take on one case after another. 

Parker out of respect to you, doesn’t mention anything to Abbot but it was too obvious that you’ve hurt yourself. She’s also beating herself up about it, and she knows full well Abbot will be give her a well deserved lecture when he finds out. 

The next patient you encounter was a toddler, no older than three years old. The dad in the room seemed to care more about scrolling on his phone than attending to his own crying child, and despite your loud huffing and puffing, he doesn’t look up for his phone , once. You’d taken his observations, and administered his meds as prescribed and hung around him so he can have some company. You brought him some toys and sat on the bed with him, but the child clearly needed someone, anyone, to hold him. “How about you get him some chocolate milk and something to eat from the cafeteria?”

“Hm?” The dad hums cluelessly.

“Patrick, your kid. He’s hungry..”

“Oh right okay. Where’s the cafeteria?”

“Upstairs” 

“Where?”

“Figure it out” you bite back rudely as he gets out of the room in a rude strop. One thing you hated was useless parents. You turn your attention back to Patrick, whose fever was slowly coming down. His red cheeks and teary eyes broke your heart. “Shall we go say hi to everyone outside? Go for a little walk around?” 

“Okay!” The child exclaims happily. It was also awfully alarming that he did not care once that his dad had left the room. Without thinking, you pick him up, steady him on your hip and walk over to the hub with him. “This is Lena…”

“Hey little one!”

Patrick wraps his arms around you, burying his face in your neck shyly.

“Where’s the dad?”

“Getting him some snacks.” You then whisper, “he’s useless.”

“Hey you two!” Jack says from behind you, putting one gentle arm on your back, “what are you up to?”

“Just a little walk around, introducing him to everyone. He needs some love and hug”

Jack immediately extends his arms out and Patrick without hesitation launches himself at him. “Oh you’re heavy, what do they feed you??”

“Pizza!”

Jack mutters, “Jesus” and you giggle softly. 

Jack walks around with him for a bit and you follow, showing Patrick all the different rooms, avoiding anything too gruesomer. You offer to take him back but Jack refuses and instead he walks him back to the room and sits him on the bed. “Shall we play?”

“Okay! Do you like superman?”

“I love superman!” Jack replies happily. You reach down for the toys that scatter all over the chair and some that had fallen to the floor, and as you pick it up, pain shoots up your arm and you fully lose grip in your hand. Without saying a word, you pick it up with the other hand and hand it over to Jack.

“Can I leave you with him for a bit?” you ask Jack who is too distracted with Patrick. 

“Why don’t you have a sit down with us for a bit?” 

“Can’t, too many patients to see.” You lie. Your left arm was now tingling and you were starting to get anxious and sweaty. 

“You alright?” He says softly, noticing that you don’t look yourself.

“All good baby. Have fun in here.” You rush out of the room and look around for a doctor, because it’s either you are having a panic attack or a heart attack, because your back was aching terribly, your left arm was tingling and painful. It all came on within a matter of seconds. You clock eyes with Parker who instantly can tell something is wrong. She points at a room and you meet her in there.

“You look terrible” she spits out, already putting gloves on.

You say shakily, “Ellis it’s either i’m-“ you choke up on your word and suddenly feel nauseous, “My back hurts so much, my left arm- it’s uhhh tingling and painful.”

“Take your top off I’ll run an ECG.” She immediately moves to the machine, “is it your scoliosis?”

“I thought it was but this pain… it’s never this bad.” Living with chronic pain becomes a habit. Your body adapts to the pain, making it difficult for you to distinguish between a flare up or danger. The 0-10 pain scale no longer applies to you; it was never an accurate measurement of pain anyway, because everybody’s tolerance is different. However at this exact moment, your pain was a steady 9/10 and hence your panic.

“You told Abbot?”

“No” you mutter, “he doesn’t need to know.”

“He’s gonna kill me!” She spits out as she puts the leads on your chest, arms and legs. 

“Can we make sure I’m not having a heart attack please”

“Any heartburn?”

“Huh?”

“Is your stomach on fire?”

“I don’t think so…”

A moment passes as Ellis watches the waves on the screen, “ECG looks fine - let’s do troponin bloods. ECG isn’t always a 100% accurate”

“Seriously?”

“In women, heart attacks can present with symptoms as simple as heartburn. So we do bloods to rule it out.” She moves over to your arms, “let’s do a neuro exam.”

She asks you to squeeze here fingers but you can’t grip strong enough with your left hand. You can’t push her fingers away or pretty much do anything. 

“What’s your gut feeling?” She asks you, “please don’t lie to me”

“It might be scoliosis but it’s never ever been this bad…”

“You should have never lifted that gurney” she says quietly, “you must have done something else to trigger it.”

“I carried that toddler in room five.”

She sighs and drops her should down in defeat, “girl why the hell did you do that?”

“Because-“ you choke up and find yourself instantly bursting into tears, “because I feel incompetent!”

”What brought this on? You were never like this before, unless you hid it from us. From me.”

You stay quiet, too embarrassed to say anything.

”Something’s been said?”

You reply too quietly, “how do you know?”

“Wild guess. Who the hell have said what so I can rip them to shreds”

“It’s no one…”

“Fine i’m gonna go get Abbot” she moves away from the bed but you immediately plea for her to stay.

“Please don’t! It was a patient, the other day. Called me lazy.”

“What the fuck for!”

“Because I couldn’t roll him onto his side and had to call Mateo in.”

“You’re silly” she sits on the bed next to you and holds your hand, “you’re nowhere near that! That patient is an asshole and clearly doesn’t know you”

“There’s so many things I can’t do, and I…”

“You don’t feel like you’re good enough.”

“Exactly.”

“And whatever I say to you right now… you’re not gonna believe.”

You shake your head in embarrassment.

“I’m gonna ask Mateo to do your bloods, because I can’t do bloods. Wanna know why?”

You shake your head again.

“Because I’m fucking awful at it. I do it wrong all the time. It’s one of the many things I can’t do, but you can.”

“It’s simple really…”

“But is it?“ she tilts her head and leans in, “have a think about how much you can do and I can’t. We’ll circle back to it in a minute. I’m gonna go find Mateo. Stay here, if anything gets worse press the panic button.”

“Yes boss.” You mumble, and wipe your tears away.

She gives you a big hug and runs over to Lena, asking her to block out the room and adds your initials on the board with the diagnosis next to it ?STEMI ?NEURO

As promised, Mateo comes rushing in to take your bloods and to check in on you. You ask him no to mention anything to Jack just yet, but it was too late. Because as Abbot leaves Patrick’s room, he looks at the board to pick his next patient. He sees your initials on the screen with a heart attack and question mark next to it, and he instantly panics. Because 1. Why is this patient with the same initials as you not in a trauma room? And 2. Where the hell are you. 

He charges into the room, opening the curtain rather aggressively in panic. His heart is telling him there is no way it would be you in that room, but the moment he sees you on the bed, his heart sinks and bile instantly fills his throat, “What the-“

“I can explain!” You say quickly, “I’m fine!”

“Mateo have you done what you need to do in here?” He says firmly and Mateo nervously nods before escaping the room.

He links both hands behind his back and walks over, “Who’s your doctor?”

“Ellis…”

He immediately thinks of a million ways to torture her, “Are you having a heart attack?”

You shake your head. 

“Sweetheart what the hell happened!” he says softer now, and approaches you. 

“I can’t feel my left arm… and my back hurts and everything is tingling.”

He sits on the bed next to you and cups your face, “I need you to tell me exactly what you’ve done today. From start to finish.”

“I lifted a patient and-“

“YOU DID W-“ Jack grunts and forces himself to speak calmly, “you did what…”

“There weren’t enough hands in the room….”

“And then you carried Patrick…”

“I did…”

“You had him leaning on your right hip, so my best guess is you’ve trapped a nerve in your back. Have they done troponin?” He looks over at the ECG waves on the screen, double checking that your heart looks fine.

You nod, “I’m sorry…”

“Nothing to be sorry about” Jack murmurs softly, “how bad is the pain?”

”It’s awful” you mumble, “Parker’s ordered some pain meds I think”

“Baby why didn’t you come to me…”

“I didn’t want to worry you!”

“It’s my job to worry about my girl because if I don’t worry about you then it means I don’t love you enough!” Jack gives you a soft smile, “and I love you so incredibly much and I don’t show it enough!”

“You show it more than enough but I’m struggling to understand why you think I’m a great nurse because even I don’t believe it.”

“I’m glad you asked that question” he smiles happily and you’re so confused by his reaction. He pulls his phone out, and opens his notes app. “Now you might think you’re not a great nurse, or feel inferior to our colleagues but no one ever thinks that of you. So a while ago, I started making a list…”

He pulls out his glasses from his pocket and puts them on. 

“December 20th — your elderly patient who came in with a broken wrist said she won’t be able to cook dinner for her husband who can’t care for himself so what did you do? You bought her food from the cafeteria to take home and showed her how to order food on the delivery app. So when Christmas comes, she doesn’t need to worry about food. Do you remember what she said to you?”

You’re far too stunned to speak and you simply just shake your head. 

“She said, people like you deserve everything good in their life. Because not only you were a great nurse, but also kind and went the extra mile for a complete stranger.” He smiles and reads the second one. “Christmas Eve — you came in wearing a Santa hat and the end of life patient who came in here with a fever? She told me she didn’t think she was going to see Santa before she passes. Thanks to you, she saw his hat on last time. I also checked, she died on the 26th of December in the hospital.”

Jack smiles and continues reading, but you on the other hand is staring at him with fresh tears running down your cheeks. “That boy you did CPR on for 15 minutes? He survived because of you. That was on January 5th.”

“Jack today’s the 9th of June…”

“So?”

“You have 6 months worth of notes?”

“Oh and it’s still going. Patrick is going on the list too, don’t worry. Next.” He clears his throat and continues, “Do you remember that lady that overdosed on turmeric? She came in and looked jaundiced and no one figured out what was wrong? You diagnosed her. Not me or any other doctor. In the same day, you also told Shen that he should reexamine a patient, and you were right. He missed a step in his consultation and the patient was treated correctly thanks to yo. A week later, you noticed that the lady brought in with a suspected heart attack had the ECG leads put on incorrectly by the paramedics, and thanks to you she survived.”

Jack continues talking for minutes on end, reading out to you every nice word patients have said about you, staff who praised you and jobs that you excelled in on shift.

“May 16th — you gave that homeless patient a wash and a hair cut. No one asked you to, but you did it anyway. Do you know what he said to Lena on his way out? He told her that now he looks clean, he might be able to go for a job interview. All thanks to you. He offered to leave you a tip but she told him we can’t accept money.”

“Seriously?”

“Yes baby, seriously!” He says excitedly, “I have so much more to read, hang on”

“Jack-“

“No let me finish-“

“Jack! Look at me” He puts his phone on the bed and his warm eyes meet yours, “you did this for me?”

“This was nothing! It’s all little blurbs really I could have done it much better.”

“I don’t know what to say.”

“Sweetheart, just because you can’t lift a patient up, or carry a gurney, or push heavy equipment around does not make you any less of a great nurse. We all have limitations - including me. It took me a long time to admit that I won’t be able to run to you if God forbid I ever need to, but that’s something I have to live with and accept even my heart doesn’t want to. You are a perfectionist, and you already are perfect.”

“I love you Jack”

“You’re my perfect sweet girl. You got it?”

“Mhm” you bite on your lips and smile, “i’ve got it.”

“Now, once you’re better, can I take you home so I can take care of you? Please?”

“Yes please”

“Seriously?” He grins, “you’re gonna let me take care of you! You never let me do that.”

“What do you have in mind?”

“So many relaxing activities. You’re gonna be so relaxed you’re not gonna make it to work tomorrow.” He leans in and kisses you deeply, “and no more secrets”

“No more secrets.” you kiss him back.

Jack mumbles “perfect” against your lips.

Jack Abbot made you a list of all the great things that make you a nurse. Whenever you’ve achieved something during a shift, he wrote it down. Whenever a patient thanked you, he noted what they’ve said. Whenever he hears praise about you, he opened up the notes app and wrote it down. 

That’s how much Jack Abbot loves you.

And he hopes that one day, you will realise that your limitations do not make you any less perfect. Because limitations are only tiny bumps in the road and don’t definite your entire journey. 

[harryscherriess]

Brunch

pairing: loverboy!Jack Abbot x Girlfriend! Reader

This came to me while I was at brunch with my friends and got a little tipsy!! Basically, if you went out to brunch with your girlfriends and got a little too drunk and texted Jack to pick you up, and your friends get jealous!

We need more yearner/ loverboy Jack Abbot fics, like I know that man gets down bad for his woman!!!! lowk feel like the ending is rushed, but i hope you enjoy anyway!!

more of my works here!

WC: 1.2k

You didn't plan on drinking so much, but you were with your besties and the conversation was flowing, and the drink kept coming. One of your friends was telling you work drama, because that's always fun. After all, it's incredible how adults act in the workplace sometimes! You didn't realize that you were that drunk until you stumbled to the bathroom and smiled at yourself in the mirror the whole time you were washing your hands. 

There was one thing on your mind, your lovely and handsome boyfriend, Jack, who so graciously offered to drop you off and pick you up whenever you were ready. You'd sat back down at the table while one of your friends was telling a story about how she thinks her boyfriend is gonna propose, but she's not ready yet, and you were absent-mindedly listening while you pulled out your phone to text Jack. 

You were completely in your own world texting Jack until one of your friends called your name 

"Are you texting Jack?"  Mira asked, raising an eyebrow 

"Maybe," you said sheepishly 

"Oh my god, is he coming?" Camille said, wiggling her eyebrows 

"Also, maybe," you said 

"'Maybe' my ass." Sloane giggled. 

You laughed, setting your phone face down on the table. "He said he'd be here in like... fifteen."

"I swear that man appears out of thin air every time you text him," Nadia said, leaning back in her chair. 

“He was already out,” you said 

“Doing what?” Mira questioned

“Grocery shopping,” you said, taking a sip of water 

She stared at you.“…He’s grocery shopping on a Saturday?”

“Mhm.”

“And he’s leaving to come get you?” she asked 

“I mean… yeah.” You shrugged. 

“You didn’t tell him to.” 

“I didn’t have to,” you shrugged again. There wasn’t anything else to say.  If you texted Jack because you were ready to go home, he'd come get you. 

If you mentioned on a Tuesday that you were craving cinnamon raisin bread, it'd somehow end up on the kitchen counter before the week was over. If you forgot your lunch on the counter before work, he'd text you a picture of it five minutes later with, turn around, I'm in the parking garage.

It wasn't something the two of you talked about. It was just Jack.

“I’ve said it before, and I’ll say it again…” Nadia pointed at you with her fork. “I hate how cute you two are.”

It's actually kind of annoying," Mira muttered.

"What is?" you asked.

"The way you two make everything look so... easy."

 "It isn't easy." You frowned.

Everyone’s eyes landed on you.

"I don't know..." You laughed quietly. "It's just... we've been together long enough that none of it feels like a big deal anymore."

"What do you mean?" Camille asked.

You shrugged. "I know he'll answer if I call and I know he’ll come get me” .You smiled to yourself. "He knows I can't fall asleep unless the fan's on."

Another shrug. "I don't know. We stopped keeping score of who does what for who a long time ago."

Nadia tilted her head. "So all that stuff just... happens?"

"Yeah."

"Nobody's trying to impress anybody anymore." 

You shook your head. "I mean, I'm sure we still are."

That earned a few laughs.

"But it doesn't feel like that."

"It just feels like..."You searched for the words before smiling. "...coming home."

Sloane smiled. "I want that."

"So do I," Mira admitted.

You laughed, suddenly feeling a little shy. "It sounds way deeper than I meant it to."

"No," Nadia said. "I think you actually explained it perfectly."

The conversation carried on for another fifteen minutes. Your friends ordered another basket of fries for the table, and someone else started talking about a coworker who'd accidentally had their mic on during a Zoom call while complaining about a manager. 

You were laughing so hard your stomach hurt when your phone buzzed against the table.

here 

His truck was parked at the curb. "He always parks in the same spot," you mumbled more to yourself than anyone else.

One of your friends laughed. "You sound so happy."

"I am."You stood, slinging your purse over your shoulder.

Immediately, one of your friends reached over. "Nope."

"What?" you asked, brows furrowing 

"We're coming," they said in unison

"...Why?"

"We wanna see him," Sloane stated

"You've all met him," you sighed, looking outside at Jack.

"Not after four mimosas," Camille corrected.

"I had three." Everyone looked at you. "...And a half."

"That's what I thought."

You rolled your eyes, unable to stop smiling as the five of you walked toward the front of the restaurant.

The little bell above the door chimed as you stepped outside.

Jack looked up from where he was leaning against the passenger door. His sunglasses were pushed on top of his head, grocery bags still sitting in the backseat behind him.

You walked straight over until you were standing right in front of him. "Hi."

"Hi, baby." His hand found your waist before he leaned down and kissed the top of your head. "You have fun?"

"So much fun," you said 

He reached over and slipped your purse off your shoulder. "I got it." You watched him tuck it into the backseat with the groceries before he closed the door again.

"You bought groceries," you commented

"I did," he said, rubbing your waist

"What'd you get?" you said

"You'll see when we get home," 

"I wanna know now." You pouted. 

He laughed quietly.

Behind you, one of your friends cleared her throat.

"So..."

The two of you turned around.

Jack smiled politely. "Hey, guys."

A chorus of hellos answered him.

 "We have a question."Nadia folded her arms.

"What'd you tell them?" Jack looked at you. 

You gasped. "I didn't tell them anything." "They've been interrogating me for twenty minutes."

 "Is he always like this?" She pointed between the two of you.

"Like what?" Jack frowned slightly.

She gestured vaguely. "The purse, the pickup, the groceries, the forehead kiss."

Jack glanced over at you before looking back at her. "I don't know." 

He shrugged. "That's just... us."  

You smiled. "See?" "I told you."

Your friend looked at you in disbelief. "He doesn't even realize he's doing it."

"I know," you said, looking at him and then back at your friends. 

"Am I missing something?" Jack looked between the two of you. 

You laughed, slipping your hand into his. "No."

"You sure?" 

"Mhm."

"You girls figure it out?" he said, squeezing your hand

"I think so," Camille said 

He nodded once as if that settled it.

"Good."

You gave his hand a little squeeze. "Babe?"

"Hm?"

"I'm hungry again."

He smiled. "I had a feeling." He reached into the backseat and pulled out one of the grocery bags. "I stopped by the bakery while I was there."

You looked inside. "...You got the rosemary focaccia." 

"You said last week you were thinking about it," he said, smiling at you. 

Your jaw dropped a little. "I forgot I said that."

One of your friends let out the longest sigh.

You smiled to yourself before looking back at your friends. "I told you."

"What?" Jack asked 

"It just feels normal," you said 

Jack reached over and opened the passenger door. "You ready to go home?"

"So ready." You nodded.

[izzwhatitiz]

suck it up, buttercup!

Jack's been on a health kick ever since he turned fifty. So much so, he decides to drag you along with him to the gym.

A/N: Finally back!!!

Warnings: SELF-INDULGENT! Reader is female/fem presenting. A bit of backstory for this reader: she forged a doctor's note, her mum is a nurse practitioner, past insecurity (she's still insecure, but a little less), implication of reader being chubby, important-ish flashback, understandable hatred for cross-country. Self-deprecating jokes. Lots of leg jokes. Jack is 50, reader's age isn't specified, but around early thirties. Jack and reader live together, but aren't married (yet). Flirty Jack, what's new? Reader daydreams about Jack; kinda suggestive, but nothing you can't read in public. Mostly correct tenses, your girl's a genius! Half-assed ending because I have not been able to post anything lately and I'm having the jitters!

WC: 2.1k

You were never the athletic type, considered ‘weird’ in your younger years.

Cross-country was the worst.

Not only were you forced to unnecessarily run seven and a half miles, but must train daily to prevent muscle stitches and cramps. During the dead of winter, no less.

Convinced it was torture; you forged a doctor’s note just to escape.

And it would’ve earned you a four-week suspension, too.

The principle was furious, obviously well-read on your hatred for any physical activity.

You overheard his secretary murmur about a possible expulsion – just imagining it caused you to spiral.

Luckily, your mother claimed the clinic’s printer at was defective, the ink often exploding, deeming the documents illegible. So, to alleviate the situation, she chose to print the note at the department store instead.

Suspicion was evident on the principle’s face, but how was he supposed to argue that? He had no proof that your mother was fabricating the story – she was a law-abiding citizen of the community!

Not to mention, she was a nurse practitioner. Who works at said clinic.

You got off scot-free that day. For the most part.

Slamming the car door, causing the windows to rattle, “Grounded. For three months!” Your mother screeched, a mere inch away from cursing at your face.

“You’ve made a liar out of me!”

The lecture continued for a majority of the drive. You stared out the window, eyes welling, barely containing sobs.

Your mother noticed. She always did.

Her eyes softened at the sight of you picking the skin of your lip.

Stroking your cheek with her knuckles, she gently asks, “Why’d you do it, honey?”

“Because I look stupid.” You sniffled, rubbing mucus across the sleeve of your hoodie. “I get so gross after running. My hair’s a mess, my clothes soaked with sweat, and my breathing so laboured it’s the reason Antarctica's icecaps are melting!”

She snickers, “That’s to be expected, bub.”

“No, it’s not! You don’t get it, mum. All the other girls finish training looking like Victoria Secret models; running with their hair down, clothes completely dry, and without so much as a lick of sweat on them! It’s as if they remained still.”

“Then they aren’t doing it right,” your mother huffs, parking the car in your garage.

Waterworks were always effective when it came to your mother. She couldn’t stand the sight of her little girl (you’re still her baby, no matter what) weeping, especially if she raised her voice beforehand.

So effective that it lessened your grounding from three months to a week.

You never forged again.

However, you did plead your mother to write up a sick note whenever cross-country rolled around.

It surprises you that the memory returns nearly two decades later.

All because your fifty-year-old ‘boyfriend’ (he feels far too old for that term) proposes that you accompany him to the gym.

Jack’s been on a health kick ever since he hit the big five-zero, determined to remain agile for as long as possible. Protein shakes, vitamins, supplements, and nutritious meals are commodities in your household.

“This is all for you, sweetheart. If doing all of this will grant us more time together, every disgusting salad I eat will be worth every bite.”He says with a wink, grimacing while taking a large gulp of his green smoothie.

Jack never said he enjoyed eating healthily.

But hitting the gym regularly? That he can do.

He usually follows a PPL routine: Push, Pull, Legs (or in his case, just Leg), Mondays are for cardio, and Fridays focus on full body (somewhat, anyway).

He spends hours on the power rack, lifting almost double your weight – and it shows. You can see it when he crosses his arms; shirt straining at the motion, and you swear you can hear threads snapping.

Or when he kneels to pick something up, his left calf bulging due to the amount of muscle. To be honest, it scares you sometimes. It looks as if it could pop under the slightest pressure.

 And don’t get started on his torso. You relish at the thought of it.

So, while you don’t participate in rigorous exercises like Jack, you can appreciate the effort he puts in to look delectable while keeping his body in good shape.

That is, until today.

“Although… you gotta suffer with me, buttercup. It’s only fair. In sickness and in health, right?”

“Hold on! First, we aren’t married-”

“Yet.”

“-and second, you choose to do this! So, in return, I should get the choice to opt out of it.”

The older man shakes his head, “That’s not how this works, sweetheart.”

Placing his smoothie on the marble countertop, he drops his hands onto either side of your hips, “Just think about it! You get to ogle me, and I get to ogle you. The both of us hot and heaving, getting some exercise in. It’s a win-win situation,” Jack moves his thumbs back and forth, massaging the plump skin of your waist.

Your eyes dart to the cupboard behind Jack’s head, pondering his offer. On one hand, you’d be delighted to watch the magic happen in front of you, rather than just witnessing the aftermath.

On the other... the same emotions you felt all those years ago come rushing back. Feeling inadequate for not being as fit as your peers, anxiety coursing through your veins when putting on sports gear - the curvier sections of your body suddenly exposed – looking like a soggy meatball after every P.E. class.

But this is Jack we’re talking about.

Your Jack.

The same man who dreaded revealing his amputation when you first met; worried it would scare you, worried it would show how damaged he is, worried you’d leave him for someone complete.

Always so critical of himself, while adulating every detail of your existence – each tucked away in the depths of his heart, cemented there, perpetually storing new information.

Flitting your gaze to meet his, you cave.

Sighing, you tug at his silver curls, "Fine. But if you find yourself thinking I look like an obese swine while working out, it’s your fault.”

Jack’s breath hitches at the pull, “Buttercup, if I ever think like that I want you to smack me into next Tuesday, you hear?” He arches a brow, urging you to comply.

“Oh, I’d do far worse than that, hon.” You retort, mockingly patting his chest.

He titters, pressing a delicate kiss to your temple, “Good.”

Upon entering the ginormous gymnasium, the little confidence you had dissipates.

Brawny men and women surround the space, performing various activities that make you shrink inside.

You barely know how any of the machines function; resembling torture devices from the Renaissance period, or death-traps designed by Jigsaw himself.

“Stay with me now.” A snap echoes through your ears, Jack eyeing you with a concerned expression.

He slots his fingers between your shoulder blades, “This doesn’t have to be a whole thing, okay? If you just wanna jog on a treadmill today, that’s totally fine. I don’t expect you to throw yourself into the deep end.”

Jack’s got that love-sick smile on his face, the kind that conveys more than words ever could.

‘I’m proud of you for trying.’

‘You being here is enough.’

‘Thank you for entertaining my silly ideas.’

The calming effect is instantaneous; better than any herbal tea or white noise you’ve tried.

Suddenly, the task didn’t seem so daunting.

Despite Jack’s encouragement, it resumes to feel like a humiliation ritual.

Truly.

You’re currently running (if you could even call it that) on a treadmill, per his advice, feeling like an absolute buffoon.

Feet ablaze, heels of your shoe gnawing at your ankles, socks sopping thanks to heavy perspiration. Breathing is agony; like your lungs are the size of twisty balloons, hardly expanding from the harsh intake of oxygen. With every step, you anticipate a burst.

What an experience, am I right?

 You can’t recall the last time you were this drained - you’d rather cosy up with a book or binge twenty-season TV shows as a pastime.

But most humiliating of all, Jack’s putting the other gym-goers to shame. He’s executing his routine with extreme precision, with very few intervals between sets.

There’s a sheen of moisture coating his physique, casting a youthful glow.

If the treadmill wasn’t already rendering you breathless, you’re sure just the sight of Jack would leave you winded.

A trail of dampness falls down his chest and back. His navy-blue singlet is an entirely different shade – in fact, if you had no idea what colour it was originally, you’d think it’s black.

God, the things you’d do to swipe back his ash-grey hair. It’s sticking to Jack’s forehead, and he makes no move to fix it.

Thoroughly ‘in the zone,’ as he’d say.

~

Shifting your attention from your quaking legs, you will yourself to picture more pleasurable situations.

Particularly about Jack.

Maybe if you’re lucky, he’d allow you to pat him down later. Dabbing a towel along his form, removing any leftover residue or grime. Then, you’d give him a massage to relieve his aching muscles – focusing on Jack’s nub.

Just the way he likes.

Soft gasps would escape his lips, eyelids falling shut, the back of his head melting into the mattress. When you hit a spot that’s too tender, he’d grab your wrist in a frenzy – halting your actions. He’d practically beg, ‘Don’t stop. Just... be gentle.’

Better yet, washing his hair in the bathtub. You’d lather it up with his favourite shampoo (your vanilla shampoo), and knead into his temples. He’d be humming and praising you the whole time; rambling sleepily about how he ‘needed this.’

At the peak of relaxation, Jack would lean his head back - situating himself on your kneecaps - and he’d ask for a kiss, all sweet-like. Yearning apparent in his eyes, a desire for his buttercup to know just how much he loves her.

And who are you to deny him?  

Hunching your back, you’d let your lips meet his. Jack would grin into the kiss, the velvety exchange flooding his body with warmth. ‘I love you,’ he’d whisper, toying with your fingertips.

~

A click shatters your stupor; hundreds of pinpricks riddling your limbs. Your foot misses the running belt, stomping on the thin deck lining the sides of the machine. The sole of your shoe catches onto the tiny divot between the components, creasing the rubber.

 Balance faltering, your palms scrape against the surface of the treadmill’s console, narrowly evading a tumble. Scrambling to release your sneaker, you stretch a leg to the floor – anchoring half of your body, preparing to yank the trapped foot.

With the belt still circling, it makes it near impossible to free yourself. Groaning frustratedly, you reach over, slamming the bright red ‘STOP’ button with a balled fist.

“I need to stop envisioning these scenarios before I twist my ankle!” Scolding yourself, clasping onto the handlebars, eyes downcast.

You just wish this ordeal would end, never wanting to be in a gym again.

If Jack wants you to exercise so bad, he can buy as much equipment he wants. Creating a personal gym would come with so many perks!

Like being able to gawk at Jack in the privacy of your home.

Goodness knows it’ll be cheaper in the long run – these memberships pile up even with his military discount.

Jack’s aware of the way your eyes linger on his biceps whenever they flex - it’s why he’s been on the pull-up bar for the entire duration of your session. All the while grunting much louder than needed; even detaching his prosthetic to heave himself higher.

Is he meant to be using the leg-press today? Yes, but Jack isn’t gonna miss seeing his pretty girl openly gawking at his figure for the world.

‘Leg day can wait; besides, I only have one.’ He muses.

He’s also aware of your lack of concentration, silently observing your unsteady gait and glossy eyes – often spacing out while staring in his direction, lips slightly parted.

You’re exactly where he wants you.

Hopping off the bar, Jack tips onto a railing on the wall, stabilising himself just enough to grab the bottom half of his leg. Slipping it on swiftly, dashing to your side once it’s secured.  

“Whoo! I think we deserve a break, don’t you?” He huffs, leaning all his weight onto his forearm, causing the plastic of the control panel to creak.

“Thank God.” You utter under your breath.

“Hah, you look positively spent, buttercup.” Jack pulls the bottom of his singlet to his face, wiping the excess sweat, exposing his abdomen.

You stifle a groan at the action, eyes tipping upwards to the ceiling.

Lord have mercy.

“You are so getting it when we get home.”

The man only giggles, leaving his shirt half-off on his chest – looking like the pinnacle of mischief. “Holdin’ you to it, hon.”

[lunarayletters]

Shadow

based on this brain dump and a request to write about narcisstic parents + request to expand the brain dump to a fic

Summary: Jack Abbot x reader!doctor!robby’s little sister

Reader is Robby’s little sister, who was raised by narcissistic parents who only cared about one child: Michael. Reader has known Jack since she was a teenager, and they have been friends since. Once she is older and they become closer at work, she convinces herself that she doesn’t love Jack and dates Rob. On the other hand, Jack has been madly in love with her since she was a med student.

Word count: 9.6k

TW/TAGs: SH as child and adult, narcissistic parents, vomit, reader loses virginity to Jack (when she is +18), smut, reader has nickname: bubs, cheating on partner, blood

Notes: hiii I’m aware that Robby mentioned his mom left him at a young age. But for the purpose of this fic, that didn’t happen. 

Sending my love to anyone who was raised by narcissistic parents, and who was made to feel like they are never good enough. You are more than enough, and you don’t need anyone who shares the same DNA as you to tell you that.

Sending you my love if you’re struggling with your mental health too. Please please please talk to someone about how you’re feeling ❤️‍🩹

The fic includes flashback to reader’s past.

Not very well proof read.

@lacy1986

⋆ ──── ♡ ──── ⋆

Flashback

A shadow, is how you felt like for most of your life. A dark silhouette of something big and great, and you only seem to be noticed when the light is faced towards this so called something that is big and great.

“Oh Mikey don’t you look so handsome!” Your mom claps her hand together as she fights back tears once she sees your brother all dressed up in his graduation gown. “Doesn’t he look great?”

“You look nice” you look up from your book and smile at him. “Have fun at graduation!”

“Sorry you’re not coming.” He says softly, forcing a small smile. 

“Me too.” You aren’t sorry in the slightest, because it means you get the house to yourself for a few hours. Your mom also forgot to buy your ticket — a blessing is disguise if anything. “Take lots of pictures please!”

The moment they leave the house, is the moment you can finally breathe. You grab your book, curl up on the sofa, and lose yourself in a made up world where you weren’t forgotten about. 

A world where you didn’t feel lonely.

A world where you felt loved.

⋆ ──── ♡ ──── ⋆

“Your mind is elsewhere tonight.” A gentle voice snaps you out of your haze. 

“Sorry Jack.” You clear your throat, giving yourself a second to readjust to your surroundings. “What were you saying?”

“Nothing, but you’ve been staring at the screen and not blinking for a good few minutes.”

“Sorry.”

“Don’t need an apology, just making sure you’re alright?”

“Robinavitch!” Someone yells your name, “patient in five is after you.”

You fight back tears you didn’t know the cause of, mutter another sorry as you log out of the computer and walk to room five. Jack watches you as you walk away, a familiar look of defeat and sadness in your step. He wonders what went wrong, but he doesn’t know when it went all wrong. He had known you at least fourteen years, and working beside you has brought him nothing but joy. But the more he watched you, the more he realised how good you did at hiding your emotions. But he had a feeling that you might be getting too tired to hide anymore and he desperately wanted to help.

⋆ ──── ♡ ──── ⋆

Flashback

“Oh she’s vomiting again, you’re gonna be late for school!” Your mom yells as she passes by the bathroom. The time was 6am, and it was exams week. Which means that sickening feeling in your stomach was back; a feeling you didn’t know what it was and was difficult to explain. You also had no one you can tell about this feeling. But it made you uncomfortable and you couldn’t fight the nausea that burned your stomach every morning. So during exam week, or whenever there was a test coming up, you vomited just before going to school. Your body had built up a coping habit, and you didn’t know there was anything wrong with it until you became a doctor many years later and reflected back on it.

“I’m ready” you say weakly as you rinse your mouth clean. “You’re the one who’s still in pyjamas.”

“Your dad’s taking you.”

“Which means I’m gonna be late for school!”

“It’ll be fine!”

“Mom! No! They gave me detention last time because he was late!”

“He works harder than you, the least you could do is say thank you.” She snaps back.

You choose silence, because that’s the best option most days. You wait by the door for him, backpack slung over your shoulder as you tap your foot on the floor anxiously. The sickening feeling in your stomach is back, and this time you don’t feel nauseous, but you feel an unexplained wave of fear wash over you.

“You’re quiet on the drive this morning”

“Please can you drive faster? I’m gonna be late.”

“I’m going the speed limit.”

“You’re 7 miles under.”

“You could at least appreciate the morning with me? Michael always was so much more talkative.”

Michael was more talkative on the way to school because they asked Michael questions on the way to school. Whereas for you? Your interests, which were mainly reading books, wasn’t their interest so no questions were asked. 

“It’s career day at school today.” You say quietly. 

“That’s exciting! Right! You’re gonna be a good doctor.” A good doctor, but not a great one. A career that was chosen for you, the moment Michael was accepted into medical school. Your mom cried tears of joy: “oh I’m gonna tell everyone my son is a doctor! My daughter will be one too! Hopefully.”

⋆ ──── ♡ ──── ⋆

The shift goes on like how anyone would expect, and the tears you were fighting earlier, came rushing out the moment you stepped into the bathroom cubicle. You actually weren’t too sure why you were crying; you felt an ache in your heart that twisted so badly at you. The ache is always there, sometimes forgotten about, but today… today it was excruciating. You wait until your face had calmed down slightly, and your eyes were not as red before you step out into the ED. You had two more hours of this shift; two more hours until you can get home, and zone the hell out. Two hours until you take yourself into an imaginary world in which you didn’t feel broken. 

“Robinavitch” Ellis calls you over, but she instantly clocks in on your sad and red eyes. “You alright?”

“Mhmm. How can I help?”

“Patient in room 5 is asking for you again.”

“Okay.”

“Wanna know why?” Ellis frowns at how quiet you had gotten all of a sudden. “What’s up with you tonight?”

“PMSing.” A lie. “Bad night.”

“Go rest, I’ll do it.”

“No, no, I can do it!” You had this deep fear of someone doing you a favour. Again, a feeling you weren’t too sure why existed, but it was deeply unsettling. 

“Girl, go rest. I can see you fighting the will to live.” Ellis’ words hit you like a punch to the gut. You have been in survival mode for far too long, and the will to live is now a stranger. “On-call room is yours. I’ll come find you in 30 minutes”

You give her an unexpected hug, and she doesn’t have time to react before you pull away and rush to the room. Your tears once again had started falling and you weren’t too sure why. You open the door without knocking, and walk in on Jack talking to someone on the phone. You freeze, not entirely sure where to go from here, and he quickly hangs up the call. “Who upset you?” He says firmly. “Give me a fucking name.”

“No one” you whisper as you wipe your face clean.

“A name!” He says loudly.

“Jack I promise nobody’s upset me.”

His jaw tightens as he walks toward you, “I swear I’ll skin them alive.”

“Abbot I promise…” you say softly, “Nobody. I’m having a bad night.”

“And if I find out you’ve lied to me?”

“I’ve never lied to you Jack.” 

He wraps his arms around you, holding you tight against him. “I’m here to talk. Always have been.”

“I have nothing to say.” You had plenty to say. So much to say, in fact, that you had written so many notes and letters about the unexplained emotions you have felt since you were younger. You kick your shoes off and lay on the bed, resting your legs on Jack’s thighs who sat at the end of the bed. You don’t go to sleep, instead, you close your eyes and focus on a happy memory. Although you don’t have many, there was one that always stuck.

⋆ ──── ♡ ──── ⋆

Flashback

Graduation day, for you, went a lot differently than Michael’s. You got ready in your room alone, which you were grateful for. But when it was time to take picture, your mom was too busy doing her makeup, and Michael was still out at work. Your dad was too, so you opted for a couple of mirror selfies.

Your mom yells for you to get the door as it rings. You groan loudly, and she snaps back, “I heard that!”

You run down the stair, holding onto your graduation cap, and open the door to one very smiley Jack.

“Jack! Hi!”

“Wow” you exclaims as he looks at you, “you look amazing!”

“Aw thank you!”

“Seriously Robinavitch, you look stunning.” He follows you into the house, gently closing the door behind him. “Where is everyone?”

“Dad’s at work, he might not make it on time. Mom’s still getting ready and Michael’s nowhere to be seen.”

“That’s fucking terrible. On your graduation day?”

“Hey at least they remembered!” You tease. 

“Okay while everyone’s busy then.. I have something to give you. It’s something small, really, but I thought you might like it.”

He pulls out a small jewellery box, and hands it over. You open up the box and find a bracelet, with a few charms dangling from it. “You didn’t have to get me anything?”

“Of course I did! It’s your graduation!” You take the bracelet in your hand and look at all the different charms. There was a book charm, a cat charm, and a stethoscope charm. 

“You can add more charms if you want to, I just picked the three I thought you’d like the most.”

You throw your hands over him, knocking your cap off your head in the process and Jack doesn’t hesitate to pull you tightly. “So proud of you.”

“I can’t thank you enough.”

“It’s nothing!”

“Jackyyyy!” Your mom says loudly, interrupting your moment. “Don’t you look handsome.”

“Me? Have you seen her? She looks stunning!”

“What’s up with your hair” she points at your hair that had gone messy form the hug, “fix it quick. Jack how do I look?” She spins around, showing off her dress. 

“You look nice, Mrs Robinavitch.”

“Aren’t you a polite young man.” She giggles at him. “Are we ready to go?”

“Is dad not coming? Or Michael?”

“They’re running late but I said I’ll take pictures!” She says as she walks away from you, grabbing her keys off the side. 

Although you feel disappointed, because how could you not, you don’t feel as sad once Jack links his hand in yours, grabbing your cap off the floor and leading the way out of the house. Having your only friend cheer you on today made everything so much better.  

⋆ ──── ♡ ──── ⋆

“Wake up” Jack say softly as he gently shakes you, “it’s home time.”

“No” you mumble, “I like it here.”

“What, in the on-call room??” 

You body jolts wide awake and you look around confused.

“It’s just me bubs. Shift’s over.”

“Ellis was supposed to wake me up! You were supposed to wake me up!” You say panicking as you feel your heart hammer in your chest. You feel instant guilt of letting people down. “They needed me out there! Why didn’t you wake me!”

“It’s okay, it was quiet. Honestly everyone’s been twiddling their thumbs.”

“You’re lying to me.”

“Ive never lied to you once.” He helps put your shoes on, “shall we grab breakfast after this? What are you in the mood for?”

“Can’t. I’m meeting Rob after work.” Jack hates Rob, so does Ellis, and Robby, and everyone else that had met him. But you weren’t meeting him, that was just an excuse to not go out with anyone so no one asks you what’s wrong, “Sorry,”

“Don’t be. Go enjoy it. I’ll see you tomorrow night?”

“Sorry again about missing the shift.” You say quietly.

“Sweetheart…” Jack mutters softly, “I don’t know what’s going on in that beautiful mind of yours, but I can feel your sadness, and I need you to talk to me when you’re ready. Hmm?” Jack hand known you since you a teenager, after meeting your family once him and Robby started residency together. He had picked up on your habits, like how you preferred to zone out when the world around you was loud. How you read books that had the most unrealistic realms ever. How you avoided your family like the plague, and more importantly, how the light had been sucked out of you slowly but he couldn’t understand why. 

“Thanks Jacky”

“Don’t let anyone out there know you call me that,” a small smile tugs at the corner of his lips, full of worry but also full of love. “Say hi to Rob.”

⋆ ──── ♡ ──── ⋆

Flashback

The first time you inflicted pain on yourself was the first time you felt at ease. A bizarre and unfamiliar feeling washed over you, which confused your mind deeply. How was it that a small cut took the ache in your chest away? It didn’t make sense. It became a coping mechanism, from the moment you left home and started med school. But you didn’t do it often, because you didn’t need coping when you were away from home. It was when you got a random phone call from your parents, to tell you about another one of Michael’s achievement. They however also would ask about med school, your friends, exams, etc…. “It’s been tough, I’ve picked up some shifts at a local cafe so trying to juggle both had been a-“

“Oh I’m sure it’ll be fine, it’s all about time management.”

“Yeah, time management….” You murmur, wanting to roll your eyes at her but that would be catastrophic.

“When I was your age, I picked up two jobs at college. Michael did too actually.”

“He worked in a bar, mom. He got paid to party.” You see the moment her facial expression changes on the screen. How she presses her lips together tightly, holding back words of anger. “Gotta go mom, say hi to dad.”

“You should call us more often” she says but you end the call so damn quickly. You mutter to yourself, “You can call me too, you know.”

Michael, or he now goes by Robby, checked in on you constantly. But it was always a text, or a quick call. When you tried to call him yourself, he always declined and said he was too busy. But the only person who was always to pick up the phone was Jack. 

“Hey bubs!!” His face lights up the moment it comes on the screen. “I’ve missed you!”

“Hey Jacky, I’ve missed you too! I wanted to see how you are.”

“I’m good, great actually. How’s university? Is that roommate still giving you trouble?”

“Actually she moved out. So I’m all alone.”

“Which you love!” He says excitedly. You always loved your alone time. “Do we still… love that?”

“I do, of course. It’s nice having all this space to myself.”

“What about boys?”

“There’s some cute guys but they’re so childish….”

“You staying safe?” 

“Always” you assure him, “can’t have little Robinavitch get in trouble now can we?”

“You never got in trouble once… you were a golden child if anything,”

You snort out loud, then the familiar ache appears back in your chest. “Yeah….”

“Hey uhh, when are you coming home?”

Never would be the answer, but one thing you didn’t do was be sarcastic with Jack. “Not soon, maybe Christmas? Why?”

“Nothing I just miss you.”

“You can always come to California? There’s a medical conference on in a couple of weeks at Stanford. I can give you the tour and we can attend it together?”

Jack grins from ear to ear once he hears the invitation, “I’d love that. Let me work out logistics.”

⋆ ──── ♡ ──── ⋆

“Morning, sweet girl” a soft voice whispers in your ear, and you brush him off. “Fancy breakfast?”

“No… I’ve just worked a 14-hour shift… can you let me sleep in, please.”

“But I’m bored.”

“Rob, respectfully, not my problem. I’m working tonight.”

He grumbles as he flicks the off the duvet and walks out of the bedroom. Despite all the loud noises he made in the kitchen, you managed to drift off back to sleep. Rob has his own apartment, but always opted to staying over at yours because it was bigger and nicer. But that also meant that your much needed silence is interrupted daily, and there always was a mess you needed to clean up. But dating him was also fun… sometimes. He was nice and kind and never got angry at anything.

A couple of hours later, you wake up feeling refreshed for the shift ahead. You have a few missed calls from your mom, and you decide that you are in no rush to give her a call back. She’s well aware that you work nightshifts, but she doesn’t seem to pay attention to that. You can also guarantee that the moment you call her back, she’d say something like, “I called you five times” 

“I was asleep”

“At midday?”

“I work nights remember?”

“What’s with the attitude?”

“I woke up not long ago and you for some reason are in a bad mood.. what can I do for you mom?”

“It’s your grandma.”

“Okay?”

“She’s dead.” 

Oh. 

“That’s terrible.” You say flatly, not a hint of emotion in your words. Death never really affected you, not in the way it should have. Michael was also your grandma’s favourite, and she forgot your name most of the time. 

“You can sound a bit sad you know.”

“I am sad…” You feel a small hint of sadness, but also feel generally numb.  

“I don’t hear you crying?” She says rudely.

“Are you crying?”

“Of course I am!” She certainly wasn’t, because you knew her fake cry very well and she was putting it on too dramatically.

She tells you about her the funeral dates, talks far too much about flower arrangements and then asks you to pick a nice, suitable dress for the funeral. She reminded you to send her a photo of what you pick because she knows best and she will make sure you look your best. “It’s a funeral, not a fashion show” you mutter to yourself once you hand up the call. 

You text Robby: have you heard from mom? 

No, what’s up? 

It’s not good news

Is it about gran?

You know?

She’s been gone a few days… 

You let out a sarcastic laugh. They forgot to tell you that your grandma died? Ah, the carrier pigeon must have had a detour.

He doesn’t respond to your text and you don’t expect him to. They forgot to tell you that your grandma had died, but made sure to tell Michael that she has. That summed up your life. 

The day of the funeral, you wanted to feel sad, you truly did. But you felt nothing as you slipped your black dress on, brushed your hair back, and fixed the last bit of your makeup. You stare at your lifeless eyes in the mirror, “why aren’t you sad? We should be sad….”

You told Rob that he doesn’t need to attend, because the last thing you needed was family members asking when you’re getting married. The answer would be never. Robby picks you up, and you’re surprised to see Jack in the front seat. He offers to switch with you so he can sit in the back but you quickly decline. The ride over was quiet, like anyone would expect, but Jack texted you sneakily to ask if you were okay.

I’m managing. 

Anything I can do to help?

Help me get through the big Robinavitch reunion, please 

I’ll never leave your side

Thank you always <3

The ceremony went as anyone would expect, a few forced tears came out of your mom’s eyes, none from your dad’s. Robby shed a few tears too, and despite all your best efforts, nothing came out of your eyes. You even pinched your hand a few times, hoping a bit of pain would trigger some sort of sad emotion, but nothing happened. Jack sat next to you, a few rows behind your parents and all the other family members. Jack moved his hand slowly over to your hand, and gently linked it with his. His touch was warm, soft, and everything you ever wanted in this life. The tears you’ve been holding back have now come rushing out, and not for the reasons anyone expected.

“Once this is over… wanna get out of here?” Jack whispers.

“Where to?”

“Somewhere with alcohol….”

You keep your eyes fixed ahead at the person who was leading the ceremony, but you slowly nod at Jack and squeeze his hand tighter. Once the ceremony was over, you wait for everyone to leave and you stay behind, wanting to avoid any family members that might ask about your marriage status, and Jack hangs around with you, noticing how reserved and uncomfortable you looked, “Fake a medical emergency?”

“Dropping dead would be ideal” you mutter.

Jack shoots you a look of concern; you always had a dark sense of humour but this time there was nothing humorous about it. Your tone was serious. 

“I’m kidding Jack.”

“Mhm… let’s uh… let’s brave the Robinavitchs then.”

“Come say hi to auntie!” Your mom says excitedly, forgetting that this is a funeral and she should be acting sad. “She’s a resident, working where my Michael is. Can you believe it?”

“Hi” you give a small wave, but she pulls you in for a long and wet kiss on the cheek.

“You must be so proud”

“Oh yes he’s the attending of the entire department!”

“No of her” Auntie says, “you know, despite all her troubles as a kid… she’s now a doctor!”

The troubles she referred to as a kid consisted of being alone, crying at random things and having panic attack, which reflecting back on, you didn’t know they were panic attacks. You thought you were dying when you had the most terrible fearful feeling wash over you. They took you to a doctor once, a shrink as your mom called it, to find out what’s wrong. When he told them that their 9 year old daughter might be anxious, they laughed and told him not to be ridiculous. 

“Good to see you, Auntie. I’m no longer troubled, if you’re wondering.” Her eyes, as well as your mom’s widen in horror at your comment. You rarely ever snapped back at anyone, and to do it at a funeral? You knew you were about to be the talk of the family for weeks.

You turn on your heels and brush past them as you walk away abruptly, but your mom of course catches up with you. “That was rude young lady.”

“You think I’m troubled?”

“Not anymore, I don’t!” She tilts her head at you, an attempt look sympathetic but in fact it looks condescending more than anything, 

“I wasn’t troubled! Mom! I was sad!” You still are sad, but she doesn’t need to know that. 

“We gave you everything. You had a roof over your head and food on the table every day. You never once went hungry! What even made you sad”

You laugh at her words. “So providing the bare minimum for a child you decided to birth is a luxury?”

Jack sees you from a distance arguing, and without saying a word, he takes his phone out and requests an uber back to his place.

She leans in and hisses, “Stop being a brat. You think you’d change after all these years.”

“See you later, mother.”  You charge past her, your anxiety wrapping itself around your neck like a rope. You don’t see Jack approach you, or all the eyes on you, but you do remember walking away from them as quickly as possible. Jack rushes after you, eventually catching up, “hey, hey”

“No, no I don’t want to talk!”

He holds your shoulders steady, “wasn’t gonna. Taxi will be here in a minute then we’re going home.”

“Where the hell is that Jack! Because it sure can’t be this hell!”

“Back to mine, okay? Back to my home.”

You try and catch your breath but your chest is on fire. He pulls you away from prying eyes, holds you in his arms until the taxi arrives. Without another word to anyone, including Robby, Jack takes you home.

⋆ ──── ♡ ──── ⋆

Flashback

“Can you tell me about how you’re feeling?” The therapist asked you.

“I don’t understand the question” you replied. 

“Your teacher at school sometimes say you hurt yourself on purpose.”

“I don’t hurt myself…”

“She says you pinch yourself a lot and you have bruises?”

“It’s a habit…”

“Usually ten-year-olds like you… Would pick up on other habits. What makes you pinch yourself?”

It was something you did when you felt uncomfortable, and it gave you a sense of relief. You felt too clastrophobic in the classroom, scared for no reason, terrified you’d feel that unexplained feeling of dying again, and so pinching yourself helped you cope.

“I’m sorry I won’t do the habit again. I promise.” You made a mental note to pick on places no one can see. And when the habit developed into something more dangerous, like using something sharp, you again, did it no place anyone will see. 

⋆ ──── ♡ ──── ⋆

“Drink” You snap out of your haze and look up at Jack, who was standing in front of you with a drink in his hand. 

“Is it strong?”

“It’s whiskey”

“I’d take Absinthe at this point.”

“Maybe one drink at a time..” he says softly as he sits next to you. “I’m proud of you.”

“Hah. What for?”

“For standing up to her.”

“I didn’t, though…”

“You absolutely did!” Jack sets his glass on the table. “did you see the way you spoke to her?”

“It’s nothing to be proud of…”

“Why? Because you were taught always to respect your parents?”

“Yeah, pretty much.”

“That’s bullshit.” he gently moves your face toward him, then mutters, “You know it is.”

You instantly burst into tears because what is being said is true. You don’t need to respect them because they never respected you or even loved you. A roof over your head does not mean love. “No one will ever love me!”

Jack holds your face in his hands, resting his forehead on yours, “I love you, you know that. I tell you that all the time and I’ve never once lied about it.”

Your sobs only get louder, “You only love me because you’ve known me since forever! It’s like you have to love me because you know me!”

“I love you for a lot more than that.”

“I don’t know if I am deserving of anyone’s love, Jack. Like she said, I’m troubled”

Jack mumurs softly, barely audible, “Until the day I die, I will prove to you that you are wrong.”

For a moment, everything goes quiet. The pain and the emptiness, it was all too much. You have reached a breaking point, and you don’t want to think anymore. You want to feel love. Or something. Anything.

You lean in and kiss him first. It isn’t soft or sweet, no. It’s desperate and hungry, like you haven’t kissed anyone before.

Jack freezes for half a second in surprise, then kisses you back just as fiercely, one hand sliding into your hair, the other pulling you closer. For those few seconds, the noise in your head go blissfully silent, and you feel loved. Then reality hit you like a truck as you pull back sharply, eyes wide with guilt. “fuck, fuck fuck!” You push away from him and rush to the door.

“Wait, please don’t go!”

“No! Jack! I’m stupid! What the hell did I do that for! We promised never to do that again. Rob! oh my God, what about Rob!”

“Rob is a jackass!”

“Hey! no!”

“He forgot your birthday! He forgets you work night shifts, sweetheart. He- you deserve better!”

You throw your heels on, and with shaky hands you manage to grab your bag and phone, “don’t I know it Jack!”

⋆ ──── ♡ ──── ⋆

Flashback

“Welcome to Stanford University!!” You jump up and down in excitement, showing off a huge building behind you. “I can’t believe you’re here!!”

Jack gets out of the car quickly, forgetting about his bags or paying the cab driver, as he picks you up and spins you around for a hug. “Oh, I’m already feeling so much better”

“Me too, Jack, me too!!!” 

He puts you down but doesn't let go just yet; he wants to make sure you’re really here with him. “Hi”

“Hi Jacky” 

“Missed you.”

“Missed you too”

“Excuse me! Your uhh bags??”

“Shooot” Jack rushes back to the cab to pay, then takes his bag in one hand, your hand in the other as he lets you lead the way. “This is beautiful.”

You look at the old building and the green parks aorund it. “It sure yes.”

But Jack isn’t looking at the building or the garden; he is looking at you. 

“Do you want the grand tour first or freshen up in my room?”

“I’d like to see where little Robinavitch lives please and make sure there are no childish boys hiding under her bed.”

You giggle softly and lead the way, Jack casually swinging one arm over your shoulder as he asks you a million questions about Stanford.

The door to your dorm room clicks shut behind you once you make it back. Jack set his bag down and looked around the small space with a soft smile. “I like it, it’s cozy.”

“It’s okay.”

“It’s you. You’ve decorated how you want it, not how anyone else wants it.” You don’t understand exactly what he means, but Jack is no stranger to how your parents treat you. “What books have you been reading?”

He sits on the bed next to you, as you show him all the new books you’ve bought, and the ones you’ve so far read. You also grab your iPad and show him all your study notes and your progress. You love how supportive he always is with your studies, and how helpful he has been whenever you needed help with an assignment.

“Back in my day we wrote with pen and paper. Nothing this fancy.”

“Under candlelight too?” You tease him. “So what do you think? Am I gonna pass?”

“You’re gonna be the best doctor I’ve ever known.”

“What about Michael?” Jack clicks his teeth and you giggle at his reaction. “Don’t let Mrs Robinavitch hear you say that.”

“I’ll shout it from the rooftop next time I see her.”

“You’ll get me in trouble!” You didn’t need to do anything to get in trouble… but when things don’t go her way, or your dads way, or in a way that it doesn’t benefit Michael, then it was somehow your fault. Jack helps you study for a while, quizzing you on all sorts of medical topics, praises you for each question you answered correctly, which was pretty much all of them. He admired how clever you are, and how passionate you are about this despite it being a profession you didn’t pick for yourself.

“So… any guys I need to worry about?”

You shrug. “Meh. Not really. Most of them are idiots.”

Jack chuckles but stays quiet, waiting for you to say more.

You swallow hard, feeling embarrassed all of a sudden. “I’m still a virgin, Jack. And all the boys here are not for me. They’re childish, love to take drugs and generally just… meh”

He doesn’t look surprised, but instead keeps his warm gaze on you. 

“I’m scared,” you continue. “I don’t want my first time to be with someone who’ll use me or make me feel bad afterward. I want to feel safe… and loved and I don’t think I’ll find it here.” 

“That’s okay, the right guy will come. Don’t rush it, no matter how pressured you feel. Do what’s best for you.”

You meet his eyes, and you blurt out, “I want it to be with someone like you, Jack. Someone I trust.”

He studies your face for a second, definitely not expecting you to have said that. “I uhhhh” Jack wants to respond but for a moment, nothing comes out. 

“I’ve thought about it…. Not like the way you expect. But I want my first time to be…different. With a friend. Not on a drunken night out.”

“Sweetheart there’s an age gap between us. I’ve known you for years…”

“That’s why I trust you Jack. You never once made me uncomfortable. You’re always been so respectful and kind and… I’m not forcing you to do anything. It’s just what I would like to do.”

“You sure?” he asks in a low voice now. “I need you to be certain. Because if that’s what you want then I’m okay with that. I want your first time to be with some you trust too.”

“I’m sure,” you whisper. “I want it to be you. I trust you.”

“I don’t want things between us to change sweetheart. This will affect us for the rest of our life.” 

“I promise it won’t, not for me. I didn’t ask you to come out here just to say this, but the second I saw you today, Jack, I just… knew.”

Jack smiles softly and leans in, his eyes meet yours and for a second he freezes. Once he sees you smile he kisses you with quiet confidence. The kiss was everything you’ve dreamt of. His hands slide to your waist, pulling you closer but never rushing. “Now?” He asks.

“Mhmm, please”. No time like the present.

“You taste good already” he murmurs against your mouth. “Just relax into my touch. Keep telling me how you feel, hmm?”

Clothes come off gradually between kisses, without rushing. He peels away your shirt, then his own, his fingers tracing your skin gently. “Beautiful,” he whispers, pressing his lips to your collarbone. “Tell me if anything feels off.”

You lie back on the bed as he settles between your legs, his body warm above you. He kisses down your neck, your breasts, taking his time until you’re arching into him and breathing faster. You thought about how it would feel to be this intimate with a guy, with someone like Jack, but you didn’t think it was gonna be this good. And certainly not this soon into seeing him, but you truly couldn’t be more content. The emotions you are feeling were different — they are wild, happy. 

“Wanna show me how you play with yourself? So I know how you like it?”

You shake your head, “Just… do what you would normally. Just be gentle… I think.”

His hand slips between your thighs and you moan at the thickness of his fingers flicking against your clit. “Good girl,” he says softly, voice low and reassuring. “You feeling relaxed?”

“Mmmm” you mewl, back acrhing off the mattress as your feelings intensify.

“Sweetheart do you..have condoms?”

You point at the top drawer by your bed. “They hand them out like candy.”

He reaches for a condom rolling it on while keeping his eyes on yours. “We’ll go slow. Breathe with me, okay?”

“Just the tip first,” he coaches, pressing forward inch by inch. You feel the stretch, tight and tense at first and he freezes immediately. “Talk to me bubs, what are you feeling?”

“I feel good, it feels good, more, please”

“Okay you’re doing so well. Relax those muscles… there you go.” He sinks a little deeper, murmuring praise the whole time. “That’s it. You’re so tight around me. Feels incredible. Let me in, baby. I’ve got you.” The fullness is intense, but his voice keeps you steady. He pauses often, kissing you deeply and his thumb circling your clit to keep you relaxed. “Halfway now. You’re taking me so beautifully. How does it feel?”

“Good,” you gasp, digging our nails into his arms, “Don’t stop.”

He rocks forward until he’s fully seated, groaning quietly. “Fuck, you feel perfect. All the way in. Just stay with me… breathe bubs, breathe.” He starts to move in slow, “Feel how I’m sliding in and out? Nice and easy. Your body’s opening up for me. So good… you’re doing amazing. If you want me to stop i’ll do it okay?”

“N-no ppplease don’t”

Pleasure builds gradually and you no longer feel discomfort. His pace stays gentle as he watches your face for every cue. “That’s my girl. Let it build. You’re getting wetter… feel that? Come whenever you need to. I’m right here.”

“I-I-“ Jack kisses the corner of your lips as he feels you clench around him, crying out into his mouth. 

“Yes, just like that. I’ve got you. So perfect.”

Only when you’ve come down, and feels you relax a bit more, “baby can I come now?”

You hum in response and nod.

He thrusts a little deeper but still controlled, until he finishes with a low groan, burying his face in your neck. He pulls out carefully and disposes of the condom, then pulls you into his arms, kissing your forehead. “You were incredible. How do you feel?”

“That was amazing,” you say, head all foggy but feeling so incredibly happy and loved.

“You’re beautiful,” he murmurs against your neck. 

“Thank you Jack, for making me feel this way. It’s gonna be a fun couple of days.”

“Oh yeah?” He smirks, “what else do you have planned for us?”

“More of this… more of us. Just for a weekend.”

“Anything you need. I’d do it for you.”

⋆ ──── ♡ ──── ⋆

You get home later that evening after the funeral, and you truly and well have gone and fucked up now. You heard your mom’s voice in your mind, reminding you how messed up you are.

“How was work?” Rob asks as he looks up at you from the sofa. 

“I was at the funeral Rob. I told you that?”

“Oh sorry, I have a lot going on, I keep forgetting. How was it?”

“It’s a funeral. What… do you expect?”

“Okay I’m just asking.”

“Is it okay if I have space tonight please… I need to be alone.”

“But I’ve missed you and I really want a cuddle” he says softly, tilting his head at you playfully.

You shake your head in frustration and shut the bedroom door behind you. He doesn’t bother to follow you, and luckily for you, he eventually leaves. You spend the whole night crying at how stupid you are for what you did with Jack. You promised never to kiss him again. You worked so hard on forgetting about your weekend in Stanford, and you both did so incredibly well, working together, being this close with each other and still keeping a boundary. And all it took is a funeral, not even a sip of whiskey to get you to kiss him.

You sob as you sat on the bathroom floor, looking down at the blood that trickled down your thigh. You promised you wouldn’t cope this way, and you’ve been doing so well, until now.  You cry at how broken you are. Your dad’s voice echoes in your mind, telling you that no Robinavitch should be this weak. You cry because your bother who you love very much, can’t fix your parents behaviour or yours. You cry because you indeed are troubled. 

You return to work as normal, putting on a happy face, especially around Jack. He doesn’t bring up what happened, although he constantly checks in on you. He notices how cheerful you are, and wonders what actually have gone in the last 48 hours. Because the sad and broken girl on his sofa few days ago, is much differnet to this one. But what Jack doesn’t know is you’re back to coping, which means back to masking, which means despite your smile, you’re closer to the edge than you ever have been. 

Later that morning, you go back home to find Rob in bed. You want to tell him what you did but can’t find the right words, so you sit on the toilet seat and stare at the floor. 

“Morning sweetheart.” He stretches his arms as he walks into the bathroom and lets out a loud yawn. “What happened to your leg?”

You look down at your thigh and freeze. The scars are right here, evenly spaced out, sore and red, and you forgot to hide them. “I cut myself.”

“Oh no” he tuts innocently, not realising what you’ve meant. “I’ll get you a plaster once I’ve brushed my teeth.” 

“I want to break up.” Your mind doesn’t register what your lips have said. 

“What?” 

“I can’t do this anymore. I’m a shit girlfriend.” You convinced yourself you were but in fact he was the terrible boyfriend. Who forgets their girlfriend’s birthday? Who buys his lactose intolerant girlfriend, cow milk?

“You’re just stressed! You’re not thinking clearly!”

“Don’t make this any more difficult than it has to be. I’m done.”

“But why!”

“Because Rob! Because I’m messed up in the head okay!” You yell and shock is suddenly all over his face. “I’m fucked in the head and I’m destined to be alone, so leave me alone!” 

“You’re a bitch” he spits out and you start laughing hysterically at his words.

It was the only thing he’s ever said to you that you truly believed. 

⋆ ──── ♡ ──── ⋆

Flashback

“Michael is bringing is friend over tonight, so be on your best behaviour!” Your mom clicks her fingers at you as she prepares the food in the kitchen. 

You look up from the sofa, “I’m always on my best behaviour…. Do you need help with anything?”

“No, just make sure the dining room is tidy.”

“Already done it.”

Not even a thank you comes out of her mouth. “Wear something nice. His friend is a resident doctor too!”

“It’s not like I’m gonna marry him.”

“Oh please” your mom lets out a small laugh. “I’ve seen his pictures, he’s so handsome”

You ignore her and turn on the TV, Matilda your favourite movie starts playing. 

“Turn it down!” She yells at you after a few minutes. “Not the time to watch a movie when you should be helping!”

“I just asked you if you needed a hand…”

“You shouldn’t ask, you should do it anyway! Come, those dishes won’t clean themselves.”

You opt for silence once again as you help her around the kitchen, but everything you do apparently isn’t done correctly. She finally tells you to go get changed in preparation for this guy that’s coming over and you once again obey. You stay in your room for as long as possible, lying on the bed staring at the ceiling. There was no reason for why you did this, it was yet another habit. You opted to wear your denim dungarees and a top. Not a dress like she asked of you. 

The door bell rings and you then hear your mom yell your name, but you ignore her. The familiar chatter of hello and introductions fill the hallway and eventually, you brace yourself for meeting Michael and his friend. You find them in the kitchen, already being fed snacks and God knows what else.

“This is an amazing spread, Mrs Robinavitch.”

“Oh please” she says in an unfamiliar voice. Is she putting on a posh voice? “Call me Maureen. Ah there she is!” 

“Hi” you wave at the guy. Michael rushes to your side and gives you a big hug. 

“Missed you, bugs,” he gives you a kiss on the top of your head. 

“Missed you too Mikey.” You truly have missed having him around, because when things got difficult with Maureen, he sometimes had your back. “Jack, this is my little sister.”

“Hi” Jack shakes your hand, “very nice to meet you.”

Your mom wasn’t lying about calling him handsome, because he truly was. His curls were a mixture of auburn brown and ginger, and he had the most beautiful green eyes. “Nice to meet you Jack.” 

“Right let’s give you the grand tour!”

“Mom what the hell for!” Robby protests, “Jack doesn’t need to see anything. We’ll sit in the garden.” 

You join them around the table outside in the garden, and the moment they start chatting, you purposely zone out. The conversation doesn’t interest you, and you truly would prefer to be elsewhere. Somewhere where your dad isn’t gloating about how hard he worked, or your mom reminding you once again she came from a big family and had to take care of her siblings. You notice how Jack isn’t also as talkative, but maybe he wasn’t interested too. Or nervous?

Your dad asks you to grab the boys some drinks, and you wonder if Michael’s hands suddenly stopped working? It would be unfortunate given that he’s a doctor. After taking the drinks order you slip away to the kitchen and spend too long staring at the fridge. The footsteps behind you once again snap you out of your haze. 

“Hi” Jack says softly, “do you need a hand?”

“It’s okay I can do it.”

“I don’t mind helping. They keep asking about work and I truly want to not… think about that.”

“Sorry they’re just.. proud of him.”

“Michael tells me you read a lot?”

“He talks about me?” 

“All the time, yeah!” Jack smiles and you can’t help but smile too. “What are you reading at the minute?”

“Im reading two at the moment… sometimes three”

“That’s so cool” 

You’re not sure how to feel about Jack being interested in your books. You wonder if he’s doing it out of sympathy? Or interest?

But Jack was truly interested in what you’re reading, because Michael spoke so highly of you and he couldn’t wait to meet you.

“I can show you? If you want?”

“I’d love that!”

You take him upstairs to your room where you kept all your books, and Jack wonders why they’re not kept downstairs, along with all the other books? 

“Your room is very tidy”

“Mom made me do it… sorry” you aren’t sure what the apology for, but you’re terrified of saying the wrong thing. 

“Bugs is your nickname?”

You nod.

“Do you like it?”

“Not always. I used to not be able to say bugs bunny. I used to call it bubs bunny.”

Jack chuckles, “That’s very cute.”

“Yeah I prefer bubs.”

You show him all the books you’ve collected over the years.

“Do you like classics?” Jack asks as he looks at your book case, picking a few interesting ones. 

“Like Shakespeare?”

“Yeah, or dickens.”

“I love them.. I borrowed it from the library once but my allowance won’t cover the entire collection. But I’m waiting for my birthday to buy it, grandma always gives good money on birthdays.”

Jack doesn’t notice that he’s smiling, but you do. He has small dimples that you admire almost instantly. “Do you read Jack?”

“Not always, I used to. I never have the time to go to the bookstore. Do you think I can borrow a few?”

“Yeah! Take as many as you want!”

“By the way, when’s your birthday?”

“In two weeks.” 

Two weeks later, your family, along with your grandma, and Michael, all come over for your birthday. The doorbell rings and as you open it, you find Jack standing with a present in his hand and some flowers. 

“Jack! Hi!” There was no hiding your excited tone. “I didn’t think you were coming”

“Michael invited me, hope that’s okay?” He steps in and you close the door behind him. “Happy birthday. You look very nice!”

“Thank you! Everyone’s in the lounge, come in.”

When it was time to open presents, your grandma hands you an envelope and you excitedly open it, expecting it to be a full wad of cash so you can finally buy the Shakespeare collection you wanted. But it was a coupon of the book store that you like, that actives when you spend $50. You don’t have $50.

“Here” Jack says excitedly as he hands you the present.

“Oh Jack you didn’t have to get her a present” Maureen says

“It’s her birthday?” Jack doesn’t take his eyes off you as he says it, ignoring her rude comment.

The box is heavy, wrapped in pink wrapping paper with a bow on top and a card that said: happy birthday bubs. You open it and find the entire Shakespeare collection that you told Jack about. As your eyes meet, you have the most shocked expression on your face and Jack shrugs casually. 

For the first time in a long time, you feel loved. And that was a feeling you hold on to, for a long, long time. 

⋆ ──── ♡ ──── ⋆

The annual Robinavitch dinner. The day you’ve dreaded since you last saw your parents. Your mental health has now hit rock bottom, but you’ve masked it so well, so no one knew what’s truly going on. Even Jack, who you told about you and Rob, and he once again supported you like the kind and amazing person he is.

You pull up at the house, just as Jack does too behind you. You grab the flowers you bought your mom, despite you not wanting to. She doesn’t deserve flowers, and it took you a long time to accept that. But it saves an argument so flowers it is.

“Hey beautiful” Jack says as he puts one gentle hand on your back. “You look nice”

“Do you think? Maureen will think otherwise.”

“Fuck what she thinks.” He smirks, “I think you look nice and that’s all that matters.”

“Before we go in… I want to tell you something.”

“Okay…” Jack frowns at your serious tone. 

“I’m leaving. I’ll be telling them all at dinner tonight.”

Jack says, barely an audible whisper, “what?”

“I’ve spoken with HR and I’m taking a sabbatical.”

“Why didn’t you tell me!”

“I am… now.” You say quietly, fighting back tears. It was a rash decision you made overnight, but you staying here in Pittsburgh was not doing your mental health any good. If you were going to be miserable, you might as well do it abroad. “I’m sorry”

“Sweetheart… is it because of Rob?”

“Oh definitely not. I’m glad it ended.”

“Then what…”

“It’s difficult to explain.” Where would you even start? “Let’s go in…”

You turn on your heels and walk toward the door, leaving Jack standing by your car, watching the love of his life announcing her departure, without a planned destination or a return ticket. 

Jack had loved you for a long time, but it didn’t happen when you first met. No. He admired you when he first met you though, your passion for books and your love for staying silent. You two became close when you got older. But he realised he loved you after your weekend in Stanford. As he boarded the plane, his heart was heavy and sad, and he felt empty. At one point he panicked and wanted to get off the plane, and run back to you. That’s when he realised he’s in love with best friend’s little sister. But that was a secret he kept for himself only for many years. He told you he loved you many times, you did too, but he truly meant it just as friends. The first time he’d tell you he loves you, you’d know exactly what he means.

“It’s so nice that you came Jack!” 

“Of course Maureen, I can never turn down any of your invites.”

“How’s my Robby been? Do you think he’s following in Adamson’s foot steps?”

“Oh much better” he blurts out. “So much better. He’s brilliant.”

Jack glances at you, waiting for Maureen to ask about you, but he sees you pinch your skin under the table, so his hands reach over slowly and brush over yours. He leans in and whispers, “Shall I fake an emergency?”

You giggle softly, “there might be an emergency when I tell them I’m leaving.” 

His posture stiffens and he clears his throat once he’s reminded again that you’re leavin. As the conversation continues, someone makes a comment about you, and you snap back at them. Something you didn’t do often, but you’ve reached a stage of not caring. 

“Oh she’s always been sensitive” your mom laughs, “she’s always been like this. Ignore her”

Heat spreads across your face and chest as you sigh angrily. Jack reaches for your hand again but you brush him off, because the last thing you needed is human touch.

“Is she sensitive like this at work?” Your dad asks Jack.

“She’s one of my best residents actually. She shows emotions if that’s what you’re wondering.” Jack says flatly, maintain an angry gaze with him. 

“That’s all thanks to us” your mom smirks, “we did good raising her.”

Jack puts his drink back on the table a bit too loudly, but doesn’t bother to respond. You laugh sarcastically at what she said. All thanks to her? The bitch did nothing to raise you well. She was more interested in getting her nails and hair done while you made yourself lunch at the age of five. All the memories of your childhood come rushing back in at once, and the panic attack hits you out of nowhere. Your skin tingles with anxiety, and no amount of pinching was going to help with the ache in your heart. You excuse yourself, mumbling something inaudible as you slip away from the table but they don’t notice you’re gone. Jack waits a few minutes before he pushes away from the table and follows you upstairs. He finds your bedroom empty so he walks over to your bathroom and knocks on the door. “It’s just me.”

But you don’t respond. 

“Bubs can you let me in please?” He says softly. “Let’s get out of here and leave.”

Silence.

“Hey, I’m gonna come in if you don’t respond.”

Nothing. 

Jack opens the door, and nothing has ever perpared him for the scene in front of himself.

“No” he whispers as he drops to the floor next to you, blood pouring out quickly from a cut, “no, no, no no!! Hey stay with me okay?” He grabs a towel and wraps it around your wrist. “Stay here, with me. Don’t leave okay?” He grabs his phone and dials 911, giving them the location detail. Your pulse is faint but the bleeding was quick.

“Bubs stay with me” his voice breaks, “why did you do this!” He wants to yell for help but he also doesn’t want to leave you. He manages to tourniquet the bleeding, as best as he could, but his eyes are too blurry from the tears. “Please, please no” 

“It’s okay” you whisper, “it’s gonna be okay”

“Hey stay awake okay? C’mon look at me”

“Jack” you mumble, “I don’t want to be a doctor”

“Okay quit, okay? I’ll write your resignation letter. But you have to stay with me. You can’t leave me, I have so much more love to give to you!”

You give him a small smile, because you love him too, but don’t have the energy to show him how much, “I’m sleepy”

Jack sees the blue lights outside and he carries you in his arms and rushes downstairs. The pressure on his right leg is agonising, but he doesn’t bother to wait for the paramedics to one grab you from him. One of your cousins sees you and Jack and screams in horror. The family all rush over but Jack was already out of the door just as the paramedics open the ambulance doors. He doesn’t wait for anyone, and asks the paramedics to close the door and hit the road.

They don’t love you enough so they don’t deserve to know whether you survived or not. But Jack loves you so much, and he doesn’t leave your side that night, or any other nights until it was time for you to leave.

A few weeks later, you say your goodbyes to everyone at work, including Jack, whose face is a mix of anger, betrayal and love. “At least tell me where you’re heading.”

“You don’t need to know because you don’t need to worry.” You say softly. 

“How can I not” he snaps back, but his anger doesn’t affect you. Because his anger is because of love. 

“I love you, so incredibly much” you brush your hands through his grey curls, “and I’ll be back. I can promise you that”. 

“I’m not saying it back.” His lips are pressed together tightly, as he sniffs back tears.

“That’s okay….I’ll send you regular updates I promise.” 

With a heavy heart, you wave goodbye at everyone, give Jack a kiss on the cheek, walk out of the door, and head home.

A small part of you wishes he runs after you, but as you look over your shoulder, there is no one. 

You’re reminded once again that fairytales don’t exist. 

You are destined to be alone, forever. 

The end. 

⋆ ──── ♡ ──── ⋆

Note: hiiii

Did you really think I was gonna end it this way?

Of course not besties. 

Because I want my girl to be happy. 

But I like teasing people of the internet, so anyway, here’s the actual ending. 

Enjoy!!!!

Sorry again hah. <3

⋆ ──── ♡ ──── ⋆

You’re in the airport staring at an over priced book store. The self help book was staring back at you. “How to fight your own demons” you read the title out loud, “my demons are Maureen and I wish I fought her.” 

A guy next to you laughs and you can’t help but laugh too. You glance over at him, “What the-“

“Hey bubs” Jack smiles. 

“What!” You exclaim loudly and everyone is now looking, “oh my God what!!!!”

“I rang every airport.” Jack says quickly, “I rang so many places. I looked at most flights and eventually took a wild guess. Anyway, eventually I pretended I was you when I rang the airline. We’ve been upgraded by the way.” He smiles.

“What! I thought the airline made a mistake! I didn’t even go to the first class lounge!”

Jack continues “And then the guy on the phone said I sounded like a guy not a girl, and I’m sorry I shouldn’t have but I snapped at him and told him he shouldn’t assume who I am based on my voice. Anyway he apologised and I apologised and he’s probably feeling guilty as we speak and I shouldn’t have done it, I feel terrible already but oh my God-“ Jack takes a deep breath then continues talking, “I love you. I love everything about you. I love how quiet you are. I love that you call it quiet time. I love how much you day dream. I love that you read Shakespeare when you were a teenager. I love that you want to quit being a doctor. I love that you’re so strong”

“Not strong Jack, I have so many scars.” You shake your head and wipe your tears.

“So!” He closes the distance between the two of you, “so what if you have scars! Life’s not been kind on you. Your way of coping isn’t healthy, or good, but we can work on it. Me and you. Together!”

“I’m broken Jack. You’re signing up to be with someone like me.”

“Whoever made you believe that you’re broken deserves hell.”

“I’m sensitive and-“

Jack yells loudly, “fuck that! You have emotions!”

“I’m not sure when I’m coming back.” 

“Me too! Shen’s in charge now. I have no plants I need to water, and I’ve turned off the electricity in my apartment. I have no intention of going back either.”

“You really want to do this? I can’t promise I’m gonna be chatty, or keep up with conversations. My heads a mess and it’s all foggy and-“

“Bubs look at me” he gently lifts your chin up, “I don’t think you understand how happy you make me.”

“Me?”

“Yes, you.” He gently kisses you, “it’s always been you.” 

[navia3000]

They're not dating but... - Dr. J. Abbot

Pairing: Fem!Resident!Reader x Dr. Jack Abbot

Warnings: cursing, some anxiety, use of Y/N, she/her pronouns, Abbot and that damn rooftop, not really proof-read (might not make much sense, I'm tired)

A/N: it seems I am back from my little hiatus (let's see how long that lasts). I've done this before for different characters and decided I wanted to do it for the Pitt universe. Let me know your thoughts, if you guys like it, I was thinking of making some for Langdon and Park the Shark. Anyways, enjoy!

Masterlist

They're not dating but he always waits for her to arrive before starting night shift rounds.

"Are we ready?" Robby asks, rubbing his hands together (his signature move) as the day and night crew stand in a circle around him.

"Not yet." Abbot shakes his head. He doesn't elaborate, but everyone knows what he's referring to.

She's not here yet. Robby nods his head, wordlessly waiting until the woman of the hour arrives. It isn't until five minutes later that she finally rushes in.

"Sorry, I'm here!" She's breathless, clearly having rushed to the hospital in time. And yet, Abbot thought she looked as beautiful as ever. "Have you guys started?"

"Nope, courtesy of Abbot." Robby is trying to hide his amusement, thinking to himself how whipped his best friend is.

"Thanks," she whispers to Abbot, taking her usual spot next to him as she listens to Robby's debrief.

They're not dating but he's always in tune with her - her emotions, her mood, her cases, etc.

"Where's Y/N? I have a cool laceration I want her to see," Shen asks Lena, tapping his fingers on the nurse's desk.

"She's in central five," Abbot pipes up, standing five feet from Shen, eyes dissecting a file on his Ipad.

Shen smirks, knowing full well why Abbot knew the girl's exact location. "Thanks, boss," he pats Abbot on the back as he walks her way.

They're not dating but she stands next to him on the rooftop in silence as long as he needs her to.

There was a chill in the air, the sun rising to wish the citizens of Pittsburgh a good morning. Abbot stood in his usual spot on the rooftop, on the more dangerous side of the railing. He knew she didn't like it, he knew she thought it was unsafe. She didn't think he would jump or anything of the sorts, but it still scared her. He couldn't help it - standing so close to the edge grounded him (ironic, I know). It had become a sort of routine - a stressful case would come in, he would come to the roof, she would follow.

The familiar creak of the door broke him out of his train of thought. She's finally here, he thought. He listened intently as her steps moved her closer to him, as she stepped under the railing - which stressed him out because he worried for her safety - to get to him.

Each moment in the rooftop went the same. They shared little words, they didn't have to speak. She knew how he felt, how much he cared for each patient that ended up on his table. As much as she wishes it were different, she knows that there is nothing she can say to alleviate his pain. So, she stands there with him, showing him she cares and that she is there for him without having to say it. And this fact does little to lessen the massive crush he has on her.

They're not dating but she invites him to play pickleball with her on their mornings off.

"Boom!" Her yell echoes across the pickleball court. "7-4, old man," she brags after scoring yet another point on him.

He laughs, shaking his head. "I'm taking it easy on you," he quips back.

At that comment, she scoffs "yeah right," under her breath.

He can't help but smile, watching as she bends her knees to prepare for the next play. He might be hot and sweaty and disgusting, but he wouldn't trade their pickleball days for anything.

They're not dating but she's the only one who can call him 'old man.'

"Your age is showing, old man," Shen speaks, elbows deep into the chest cavity of a trauma patient.

Abbot scoffs, "Oh, I know you're not talking to me." He knows Shen means no harm, and he knows that he is in fact teetering on the edge of being geriatric, but he can't help but get annoyed at Shen for his comment.

Before he can come up with a snarky retort to Shen's dig, Y/N pipes up from the corner of the room, "hey, I'm the only one that can call him 'old man,' Shen." The edge of Abbot's lips twitch, a smirk fighting its way to his face.

"Yeah, Shen. Only she can call me 'old man'."

They're not dating but, even though she teases him mercilessly for it, she always makes sure to walk into the hospital with both her usual vanilla latte and his black coffee (I could never drink black coffee straight).

"Here ya go," a hot drink cup is placed next to where Abbot sits, charting so Gloria gets off his ass about record-keeping.

He smiles, his heart skipping a beat at the fact that his favorite resident memorized his coffee order. "Kid, I've told you to stop wasting your money on me."

She smiles shyly, eyes shifting to her feet. "I don't see it as a waste of money," is all she says before walking away, her own coffee in hand.

Yeah, safe to say Dr. Jack Abbot is whipped.

They're not dating but he always has a stock of chocolate in his locker because he knows she loves it.

Y/N stands at the nurse's station, chatting away with Lena. He could tell that her mood was dropping slightly, so he made the walk all the way to his locker to grab a Kit-Kat he gets just for her.

Her head turns when he appears in the corner of her eye, holding out the candy bar. His heart swells as her eyes light up, a beaming smile taking place on her face.

"This is why you're my favorite." She grabs the bar from his hands, fingers working to undo the wrapper until she suddenly stops and says, "thank you," in the most earnest tone he has ever heard.

"Anything for you, kid."

They're not dating, but he is the first to reassure her whenever she gets nervous or anxious.

She feels her hands begin to shake as she sutures up the bullet wound adorning the guy on the table's stomach. There was too much blood, too much liquid spilling out, too much paleness taking over the man's body.

"Hey," his voice tore through her mind, "you're doing good. Breathe." His words soothed her, grounded her. If he wasn't freaking out, then she shouldn't either. If she royally fucks it up, it's technically on him as the attending. And if he believes in her, then she will do everything in her power to deserve his praise.

After the patient is stabilized, after the nurses and the doctors clear out of the trauma room, leaving her and Abbot alone, she can't help it.

"You okay?" He asks. Her answer comes in the form of a hug. She squeezes him tight, arms wrapped around his torso as if he is her lifeline. It doesn't take more than a second before he is squeezing her back just as tight.

"Yeah," she sighs, "I'm okay now."

They're not dating but there is a betting pool on when they're going to get together.

$30 they're already secretly dating - Garcia, Whitaker, Mohan, Princess

$25 they're hooking up - Matteo, Santos, Shen

$50 they're madly in love with each other but refuse to confess - Robby, Dana, Langdon, Mel, Javadi, McKay, Perlah, Abbot

^ has nobody noticed that Abbot himself literally bet on this - Javadi

[slewfootbrew]

Living Angel of Death

Pairing: Jack abbot x morguetech!reader

Summary: meeting him for the first time

Author's Note: saw this post and immediately loved it so loosely based off of this but reader fits the morgue stereotype.

Warning: medical inaccuracies, mass casualty death, age gap, death, shooting, face claim (don't have to use to enjoy)

I was at home when I got the call, a mass casualty event at pittfest, this would not be pretty you thought, you knew the morgue would be overwhelmed with all the bodies given that there was barely any space for the bodies already there.

i placed the half finished marionette on the desk taking off your magnifying glasses, paint scattered on your desk.

"there estimating up to 50 bodies enroute to us right now" your boss Dr. Shan exclaims, "we've called the coroners office to pick up the bodies that are already there just to free any space needed", immediately getting from my work space, putting on my scrub and coat and leaving.

Parking the car in the underground lot i take these few seconds just to breathe, a calm moment before entering the storm. Dr. Shan message pings lighting up my phone screen.

'ETA 10 mins, we need to brief before, were briefing in the ER ', i sigh taking in one more breath just one more inhale, then exhale as i open the car door.

Walking into the ER and its chaos already, nurses running around trying to free any beds where possible, doctors scrambling finishing their protein bars and running in and out of the toilets just before there's not time to do it yet.

Dr. Shan is near the nurses station with two other techs walking over to them, they are immersed in conversation as you silently listen, he goes over everything how there we have to document any identifying marks take picture and upload so that when families send in there own pictures its easier to identify.

"I hope you understood what I've just said as there's no time to repeat it and where the hell is Camilla?" shoving his hand in the air.

"I'm right here" you say impassively, straight deadpanned onto him. his eyebrows burrow into themselves he wonders how he didn't see you your standing straight in front of him "when did you arrive" he head moves back a little creating space a choked in his voice, he is really concerned on how he didn't see you, you weren't behind him nor hiding behind someone else you were in plain view.

you scare him, you scare all the techs you joined the team almost 4 years ago and you still creep all of them out, you're used to the feelings of others moving away from you creating distance like the plague. you've dealt with this your entire life, the stares and the whispers, you expected it from children but coming from adults it was almost laughable. you got a lot of shit from bratty kids when you were a child no kids wanting to be your friends or sit next to you, your family were coined 'the Addams family' for being some weird gothic family that owned a funeral home right here in Pittsburgh.

Marie Hetsy was an 80 year old hag, she was a horrible old lady, she would egg on the others kids to call you a witch when you were younger said the devil had me in his clutches and he would drag me to hell one day, you hated having to walk past her house everyday just to get to school cause there she would be on the crickety rocking chair shouting nonsense, I couldn't wait for the day when she had finally croaked, and when she did was it so quiet not having to have a badger on about whatever, your dad was cleaning her up making her more presentable for her funeral and for the first time she was quiet, she didn't judge me did hurl slurs she was quiet and you enjoyed the quiet.so its quite fitting that even in adulthood you would rather be around the dead than the living.

"I was here the entire time" again said impassively no ounce of emotion in your voice. he gave a quick nod and carried on "some of you will be up here making sure to liase with the ER department and also be bringing bodies to the temporary morgue set up in the loading bay just to save time instead of continuously going up and down that's the job of me and a few other techs that are already downstairs prepping and so-"

"ETA 7 minutes" the charge nurse Dana shouts with the phone still in her hands.

"okay we all know what to do" you and the two other tech nod your heads "I'm going to go speak to Robby and his team about what our side will be doing and how to go about the dead ones" he leaves and walked over to Robby giving him a pat before turning around to his team and explain the black and white checkered wrist bands he points to us techs a few times but he is out of earshot so i stop paying attention as you and the other techs went into the break room to have your own meeting.

"this is going to be a crazy few hours" a tech says

"just to get through this then we can go home, whose staying for nights?" the other says

you lift your hand not even looking while while texting your dad about the mass casualty events to just prepare him as there will be a lot of phone calls to him.

"well that's a great way to start a shift " i looked up at lucy, blond hair deer eyes someone who i would never imagine being a morgue tech seemingly more of a dermatologist than anything.

"yeah" i breathed out with a blank expression immedialty going back to your phone continuing to message your father. "at least we're not needed as of right now but there are gonna be a lot of bodies" continuing the conversation

"ETA 1 minute" you hear over the speakers, you and other techs begin to leave the breakroom lucy in the front when the door is pushed inwards almost hitting her, you step back in swift motion not wavering in step almost as if you predicted the door opening.

"sorry" a voice says lowly a hit of chuckle behind it, you at him an older man grey hair with a red mixed into it, grey stubble sat on his lower face. u eyes moved lower to his scrubs how they fit on his body and even lower to where his nametag sits on his hips

JACK ABBOT, MD

you looked back up at him and he walked into the room straight past you directly to the cupboards and took out a box of protein bars grabbing one

you turn to leave giving one more look as you shut the door.

the ER was quiet, too quiet like everybody held their breaths waiting for the shoe to drop and drop it did, the ER was immediately filled with the sirens, people on gurneys, screaming and crying doctors filling the room shouting orders, and so much blood you tried your best to stay out of their way as lucy pulled your arm towards the loading bay and the other tech vannessa stayed to grab any bodies off the ER ward.

outside lucy and i already overwhelmed by the bodies already on site thin white coverings used to hide the bodies, we grab a body and bring it to the ERs kids room.

unveiling the sheet, there laid a woman no more than 20, a bullet wound straight to the head, you pursed you lips while lucy let out a heavy sigh, you hold the phone up taking a picture of her "This is going to be a long night".

and the night was long, as less and less ambulances came, there were less and less bodies and the overwhelming pressure had been lifted.

"okay your good here by yourself right?" I looked up lucy and gave her a quick nod before looking down and pointing the phone.

click

Kiara the social worker had been in and out all night looking at the picture i had taken identifying people and lucy adding toe tags after correctly identifying everyone. using the pictures i uploaded she was able to efficiently identify people.

so when the door to the room opened up you thought it was Kiara coming in to identify another body.

"Hello Dr. Abbot what can we do for you?" Lucy sings.

click

"i just came to check in to see how you both are doing" he says calm.

"it got a bit crazy there," lucy says shyly looking away and tucking a piece of fallen hair behind her ear.

click

"and you?" he questioned eyes knowingly on you.

click

"yeah I'm good" you say putting the phone down you looked at him with a dead look.

"you look tired" he says with concern

"oh I'm-"

"oh she always looks like that" Lucy chimes

jack looks towards her with a raise of an eyebrow and you look at her expressionless and then at him with the same look.

he gives one good nod then leaves.

you look back her.

and she looks at you, then away.

giving a quick and small 'sorry' then leaves.

and you stay expressionless basking in the heaviness of whatever happened.

looking outside towards the ER the small chaos and in the fleeting moment you see Dr. Abbot staring at you. just looking. feeling. and you look back at him taking in the moment as well.

he looks away as a trauma comes in and you disappear back to the body on the stretcher, holding up the phone again and angling it to small heart and skull tattoo.

click

[moodyabbott]

waiiiit cute jack date idea: he lets you drive his big ass truck for the first time lmaoaoaoaoa

thank you for requesting, anon!! i decided to make reader a shyyy bby!! hope you enjoy <3

jack x shy! reader

it’s late in the afternoon.

the sun is dropping low over the parking lot outside the tennis court and everything is washed in that silky gold blanket that makes their post workout high feel calmer than they expected it to.

“i can’t wait to take a shower.” she hums as she swings their racks in her hands while he walks slightly ahead of her.

“mm, me too.” he says looking back at her with the cheekiest expression. she giggles, shaking her head as she selfishly admires how his back muscles flex underneath his shirt.

jack huffs as he unlocks the car with his key as he stands next to his truck like it’s just another extension of him.

she calls his truck, ‘actual true love’ which caused him to playfully roll his eyes at how she teases him about his prized possession. mans best friend.. or whatever they say.

it’s large, black, and impossibly clean for a man that lives in chaos most days. he keeps his swat bag in the trunk and his work bag on the floor behind his seat.

he taps the hood once, then looks at her with prideful eyes, “you’re going to learn how to drive it.”

she paused as her eyes widen at his sudden intrusion of her oogling, “what?” she laughs, “oh, stop.” she brushes off.

“i’m not joking baby.” jack nods at her, motioning her to come towards the drivers seat.

“i- i don’t think i can! your car is like a monster, babe. she throws her hands up as if that was shielding her away from him.

“well, that’s why you’re learning,” he says too casual for her liking.

she hesitates where she stands on the curb, fingers curling at the hem of her workout skirt. “c’mon baby, it’s huge.” she states.

jack opens his mouth for a comeback but she glowers at him in warning making him shake his head as his chest shakes from his low chuckle.

“what if i mess up?” she urges.

his gaze softens as he reached his arms out for her. she takes his hand in hers before he pulls her close into him like that’s the exact answer she’d give him.

“then you’re just gonna correct it,” he says. “or you stop and pull over, baby. nothing bad will happen.”

she groans in response and hands him the racks as he opens the drivers side door for her anyway. “get your cute ass in.” he tuts.

she yelps as she playfully taps her bum with large palm. grumbling as the seat swallows her in.

it all feels too high for comfort. it’s not as daunting when she’s the passenger princess. the truck suddenly feels too wide in every direction as she adjusts the seat twice before even looking at him.

jack gets in on the passengers side “okay,” he says, while she pressed the electric turn-on button.

she glances at him while her hand hovers over the gear for a second too long but he doesn’t rush her— he just waits and that makes it worse and better all at the same time.

she gulps as he reminds her about the blind spots before she finally shifts into drive. the truck gives a small roll forward and her breath catches immediately grabbing the steering wheel tighter than necessary. her knuckles going white as she peers out of the windshield.

“ey,” jack says, “baby, you’re in control, it’s not going to run like a horse.”

“i- i know,” she says quickly. “i just—this is so big.”

“it sure is,” he replies, looking out at the nearly empty parking lot.

he still directs her slowly though.

a lap around the lot— she jerks the wheel once when she turns too sharply and immediately looks like she’s about to apologize.

“it’s fine,” he interjects softly, “you’re overcorrecting yourself.. when have i not done that in a tight turn?” he comforts as she nods.

“o—okay i’m easing into it,” she mutters, which makes him glance at her.

that’s the first smile she gets out of him.

“you call that easing?” he jokes making her scoff.

her cheeks flush a deep pink as she talks while her eyes stay glued to the view in front of her, “it feels like easing.”

“that’s because you’re nervous.”

she doesn’t argue that part because he’s right.. like always.

on the third lap, her grip loosens and her worried breathing slows and the truck suddenly doesn’t feel like it’s swallowing her while anymore. it just feels like something she’s learning to understand.

of course, her notices immediately. “you’re doing better,” he says proudly.

she blinks over at him. “really?” she squeals excitedly, her body jumping up and down in the seat slightly.

“yes.”

there’s no hesitation to his voice as she glances at how his freckled arm hands out the window. she can’t help but take her bottom lip in between her teeth at the way he gave her his confirmation.

it lands more than it should and jack raises his eyebrows, deciding not to say anything.

the fourth lap around is clean. she turns smoothly and has good acceleration. she actually laughs a little, surprised at herself because now she’s got it all under control.

“i didn’t mess it up,” she says, almost disbelieving.

“you didn’t,” jack agrees, “have more faith in yourself, baby. when you put your mind to something, you’re always going to do well even if it takes practice.”

she glances over at him, her lashes fluttering softly, “well you make it look so easy.”

he chuckles, “it’s just practice.” he pause for a second. then softer, “and paying attention.” he points making her smile.

when she finally parks back into a random spot, she doesn’t immediately get out. her hands are still on the wheel.

jack cocks his head “good girl, you did great.” he says like he wants it to stick.

she smiles timidly, “you’re just saying that because i didn’t crash your truck.”

“i wouldn’t let you crash it.” he says defensively, like it was never an option in the first place.

she looks down for a second, then back up at him. “so all of this was… what? to prepare me for something?”

his eyes flick to hers briefly. “something like that.” he reached over the console and rested his hand on her thigh out of habit, “if you ever needed to drive it, i don’t want you afraid of it.”

she nods, laying her hand onto his as he squeezed her thigh absentmindedly. they stay like that for a good while before she steps out slowly, still a little stunned at how normal it started to feel.

jack is quick to follow—he helps her into the passengers side before he rounds back to the driver seat and rests a hand briefly on the truck like he’s checking it’s fine then looks back at her.

“i think it’s a good idea to get you more practice in,” he says, climbing in.

she blinks. “jack!” she groans, “you’re gonna make me drive this thing again?”

“yes.” he says, reaching over and pulling the seatbelt over her lap and locking her in.

“fine,” she finally says as he starts to drive out of the lot, but there’s a small smile plastered across her pinky glossed lips.

jack nods once, like it’s settled. his hand resting on her thigh yet again as she reached towards the radio to pick a playlist.

“let’s go home and shower, shall we?” he hums.

she giggles in response, leaning towards him before giving his cheek the sweetest kiss.

[moodyabbott]

the coffee shop meet cute

jack x barista!reader

—

the small silver bell chimed over the coffee shop door making her look looked up automatically with that ready smile, pushing her hair behind her shoulders.

“hi, welcome i— in.” she stumbled, the words caught in her throat as she started at a man walking in the doorway.

his hair was disheveled and he looked like he'd walked straight out of the longest hospital shift that she’d never want to work.

hospital junkie, she thought.

he effortlessly wore a pair of navy scrubs with a faded pittsburgh baseball cap pulled low over his brow line making her cheeks warm as she noticed his broad biceps peaking out from under his sleeve.

her eyes glanced towards his salt-and-pepper stubble and she waved as she noticed his hospital id clipped to his waistband.

she bit back a smile, noticing he had the most confused expression she'd ever seen directed at a coffee menu.

"is this your first time here?” she chirped.

he looked over at her— hazel eyes meeting hers. “is it that obvious?" he gave her a crooked sideways smile that caused her heart to flutter.

"a little." she chuckled but the second she said it, her face fell. "oh— sorry." she winced. "i’m sorry! that sounded mean."

"it did." he said flatly.

"oh my god—” she panicked walking her hands, motioning that she didn’t mean it that way.

"i’m kidding, kid.” his mouth tugged into the faintest smile making her gasp out as relief washed over her so visibly that he almost laughed.

"i was told to come here," he said as he stepped up to the register. "apparently the coffee across the street doesn’t hit the spot like this place does."

she giggled. "yeah, i’ve heard that before."

"you have?" he rose a brow, tilting his head causing her to to the same.

"mostly from doctors like you." she shrugged.

"how do you know i’m a doctor?"

"i mean..." she pointed sheepishly. "the badge gave it away."

he looked at it, "right."

great job. you moron, he thought.

she looked at him as he looked at the menu and ten back at her.

“i’m going to be honest." drawled.

"okay."

"i have no idea what any of this means." he pointed at all of the specialty items causing her to smile widely.

"t— the menu?"

he nodded once, "feels like i'm taking another board exam." he joked making her laugh— a bright sound that a couple people turned to look as she covered her mouth.

"oops, sorry."

"for laughing?" he tilted his head.

"i laugh really loud." she blushed shaking her head.

"i don't think you do."

"you don't?"

"no." he said as he found himself studying her for a second. she had this habit of apologizing for things that didn't need apologizing for.

"so," she said, trying to recover, "what do you usually drink?"

"eh” he shrugged, “a black coffee."

"no flavor?" she wondered.

"nope."

she nodded, "okay, any sugar?"

"no."

"creamer?"

"nah." he shook his head making her tilt her head, her hair fanning over her face.

"so, just a coffee then."

"yes, please."

"hm,” she pretended to think very hard, “i think i have just the thing." she chirped making him smile.

"i was hoping you'd say that."

she turned to make the drink while he looked around the shop. it was cozy, quiet and nothing like the emergency department he'd left twenty minutes ago.

"you know,” she hummed, her voice carrying over the sound of steaming milk, "you look less confused now."

"it’s because i’m not looking at the menu anymore."

"that helps." she mused.

"it does."

she finished pouring the coffee before grabbing a lid as she reached for a marker, she hesitated. she did it all of the time, the little smiley faces on the cups.. but he looked almost too serious for that. she bit her bottom lip, tapping the marker against the cup— then, before she could overthink it she drew a tny smiley face.

"there you go." she huffed out with a smile and slid the cup across the counter.

jack reached for it, looking down at the cup then back up at her. "you drew a smiley face."

eery ounce of confidence left her body, “oh.. i—” she laughed, “i do that sometimes.. b-it if people don’t like it i can—”

this is so embarrassing, she thought.

“you do it for everybody?"

she nodded quickly, “yeah, most of the time."

"why?"

she shrugged, "i don't know."

she gave him a bashful smile as she averted her eyes from him while giving him a tiny smile. “i think coffee should make people smile before they even drink it."

he looked at the cup again and then at her. "damn that's a good answer."

his words made her shiver causing her hands to rub her hands together ti distract herself on how nervous he was making her. her heart was beating so fast she almost thought he could actually hear it.

“i’m glad." she said quietly as he took a sip. jack paused, rolling his eyes making her stomach drop in anticipation.

"this is really good."

she stated at him while he started back. neither of them looking away from one another. neither of them moved. she opened her mouth to say ‘thank you’ but someone behind him politely cleared their throat.

he stepped aside, "right." he shook his head motioning for the person to walk up to the counter but her coworker came form the kitchen waved down the customer towards them, noticing how her cheeks were bright pink and the order man stood staring at her with a molten hot stare.

she laughed softly, "busy morning." she said, nervously twirling a strand of hair between her fingers.

"guess so." he hummed. he picked up his coffee again before heading toward the door but just before he pushed it open, he glanced back. "you know..” she looked up, "i never got your name."

for a second, she completely forgot how to speak as she opened and closed her mouth a few times before finally spitting it out to him. he repeated it quietly, like he was making sure he'd remember.

"jack." he pointed to himself making her laugh.

"i know."

"you do?" he asked in slight confusion.

he pointed toward the hospital badge still clipped to his waistband causing him to look down.

"i really should stop forgetting that's there." he blushed lightly, rubbing the back of his neck out and ofnervous habit.

"it keeps giving you away." she joked.

he laughed.

"i guess i’ll be seeing more of you” he smiled causing her to nod slowly.

"i hope so." she tilted her head as she watched him walk backwards towards the front door.

hack nodded once, biting his bottom lip like he was in his mid twenties all over again before disappearing out the door.

the little bell chimed behind him and stood there for another few seconds, staring at the door.

"you forgot to charge him for the extra espresso shot." her coworker's voice snapped her back to reality.

"w— what?"

"you gave him a double shot." her coworker laughed as she fished off the counter filled with croissant crumbs.

"i did?"

"mhm."

"oops." she shook her head before looking at the computer to see how she put in his order.

her coworker smirked. “you were flirting it up with that silver fox.” she laughed excitedly.

"hey! i was not." she protested.

"you absolutely were."

she looked down at the register, "do you think he'll actually come back here?"

her coworker grinned, "well considering how he couldn’t keep his eyes off of you, i’ll bet you twenty bucks he’ll be here tomorrow.”