[cowboycastles]

mast. guidelines. beaucore.

baked cookies. vinyls. trinkets. whale sharks. jensen ackles’ moustache. marvel. taurus. the cinema. the smell of new books. the feeling of emptiness when the concert is over. shawn hatosy’s tiktoks. old cigerettes. paw pads. noise cancelling headphones. nineteen.

inbox ; open, always. ˋ be respectful. requests ; closed.

[duchess0fmalfi]

i loved the vigilante reader! x dex!! i cant stop thinking about a reader thats like deadpool and just kinda crazy and cant die 😭 lowkey perfect for dex

i wholeheartedly agree, anon. as always, i will shamelessly link my masterlist with the rest of my dex posts, including the previous one with vigilante!reader :3

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗

after showing up in dex's apartment and waxing lyrical about how much you admired his work around the city, he became much more accustomed to you showing up in places he wouldn't expect you.

you were always doing something you probably shouldn't be doing, too. things that any adult with two brain cells to rub together could tell was senseless.

several times had dex caught you in the middle of trying to kill as many as ten avtf agents equipped with significantly more firepower than you. in fact, it wasn't unusual for dex to find you using nothing but a hunting knife that looked poorly designed for such labour, but you didn't seem to care.

dex knew that you didn't have the same level of precision as he did when it came to throwing shit—not even close. but you seemed quite adept at hand-to-hand combat, he painfully had to admit. you walked away from fights with just a few scuffs and a bright look in your eye, like you'd just won the lottery.

what dex particularly looked forward to was you sneaking up on him. at least once a week, he'd turn around after disassembling a sniper rifle or walking away from a massacre and you'd be right there. always with your mask on and your wide eyes blinking up at him before you'd slip off the fabric and flash him your full grin.

"hey, bullseye. dex. bullseye? dex?"

one such day you asked him which one he preferred.

"i mean, bullseye is a sick name, y'know? obviously you know, you chose it. or did you? did you choose it or did you kinda get it bestowed on you?"

the talking was incessant with you, but dex grew to love it. he never really said much, but he listened with such rapt attention like you were telling him the secret to life.

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗

one evening, you had followed dex to a rooftop after you spotted him up there. he hadn't shot anyone, surprisingly. he just watched. you were unfamiliar with this seemingly passive side of the vigilante.

dex heard your footsteps impacting on the roof as you approached him but he didn't move. not yet. he waited for you to pause beside him before glancing in your direction.

"hey, dex." as always, your slipped off your mask and smiled at him in the consistently disarming way you perfected. dex wondered if you had ever looked at someone else like that; a fleeting but nonetheless agonising surge of disgust coursed through his body, top to bottom.

he shelved his thoughts away in a part of his brain he never intends to visit and gives you a brief "hi".

"i was just in the neighbourhood, thought i'd say hi."

dex was almost alarmed by the casual nature of your assertion, his head almost whipping to look at you. once again, he saw the shit-eating grin on your face. ah. a joke.

"why do you do that?" he blurted out. the question had been on his mind for a while. as long as he had known you, really. he couldn't wrap his head around somebody knowing him—his crimes, his lifestyle, his background—and willingly hanging around him, not to mention with such enthusiasm. he finally let the question slip and waited anxiously for a response.

the smile on your face didn't shift a millimetre, but the glint in your eye he'd only seen after you knew you fought a good fight made another appearance.

"i like you. don't ask me why. i'll tell you when i figure it out." and with that, you made your way down the fire escape. just before you slipped out of sight, you threw him another glance over your shoulder.

"we should do this again sometime!"

dex's gaze stayed fixed on the last spot of the railing you'd held onto before sauntering down. he didn't know what answer he wanted, but he thought he could do with the one he received.

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗

this is kind of a nothingburger, but i think i'm vamping up to make vigilante!reader x dex a full series with each post being longer than the posts i usually make :3

[q-nk02]

Feeling your wisdom teeth coming thru and asking Jack to have a feel and discovering an interest in medplay. He's wearing black gloves and feeling around your mouth. Keeping your mouth open as the saliva pools in your mouth and soaking his gloved fingers. Gently biting and gnawing on his fingers. All while he's saying "atta boy" for keeping your mouth wide open for him

(defo not inspired by just now. what I thought was a cut or a burn in my mouth, was actually my wisdom tooth >_<)

[cowboycastles]

thinking about jack abbot with ftm!user

jack abbot who makes sure your tape is put on correctly and taken off with oil and remover

jack abbot who does your t shot

jack abbot who finds the best top surgeon in the world and pays for all the expenses

jack abbot who helps you shave

jack abbot who, if you get blisters from tape, makes sure to do all the after care

jack abbot who forces your to take your binder off

jack abbot who does all your top surgery after care to make sure to get as clean results as possible

[wannabespacesmuggler]

DO NOT DISTURB ➵ J. ABBOT

Masterlist | Buy me a coffee

Summary: Jack Abbot's relaxing day off takes a turn for the worse when he hears his phone ring. After all, his phone is on do not disturb and there's only one person that he's allowed to interrupt his peace — you. Even worse, your voice isn't the first thing he hears when he picks up.

Pairing: Jack Abbot x nurse!reader

Warnings: f!reader, violence against healthcare workers, language, mentions of bodily harm, mentions of blood, mentions of injuries sustained at the workplace, use of the word 'assault', Jack Abbot's dead wife mentioned, description of a drunk driving accident, Frank Langdon catches some strays, use of the nickname 'sweetheart', use of the nickname 'slugger', no use of y/n, mutual pining, fluff, hurt/comfort

Word Count: 5.5k

Author's Note: Yo — so I'm still alive. I have been stuck in The Pitt for awhile now. This one has been sitting unfinished in my drafts for a hot second. I also have a Robby fic sitting in there that I desperately need to finish. Those two men have truly bewitched me. Anyways, hope y'all are ready to be stuck in The Pitt with me for the time being. Hope you guys enjoy this one!

BEEP

BEEP

BEEP

“Motherfucker!”

You angrily hit the coffee maker that has been causing the entire emergency department trouble for the majority of today’s shift. Langdon had watched you struggle earlier this morning before swooping in to fix the problem with a swift hit to the side of the machine and an off hand comment about having the ‘magic touch’. So, you imitate his actions now — hoping another dose of caffeine will help get you through the last couple hours of your shift. The machine stops its incessant beeping just as it had hours ago, but instead of brewing a fresh cup of mediocre coffee, the interactive screen goes completely black. 

Great. 

You squeeze your eyes shut and take in a deep breath. If Jack were here, he’d miraculously show up beside you with a latte in hand. You don’t know how he does it, but the man just knows exactly what you need and when you need it — you’ve taken to calling it his ‘sixth sense’. In reality, that’s Jack — observant and steadfast. 

You miss the night shift.

It’s not that you dislike the day shift. In fact, you happily accepted Dana’s request for your help covering for Donnie during his paternity leave. In Robby’s words: they needed another nurse practitioner on the day shift and there’s only one that he trusts. A part of you thinks that it was just flattery to get you to come to the light side, but deep down you know that Robby only knows how to speak honestly. Lena wasn’t necessarily happy to let her best help switch shifts for an extended period of time, but she also knows that the ED is a team — sure the staff is split between day shift and night shift, but things only run smoothly when the shifts help each other out. 

Jack wasn’t too keen on the idea. 

He couldn’t stop you of course — Lena is your supervisor, not him. But that didn’t stop him from voicing his concerns. Jack Abbot has always been protective of his nightcrawlers, but there was something verging on possessive in the way he told Robby that this is simply a temporary arrangement after he realized he couldn’t change your mind. 

“Should I call Ahmad to escort the caffeine criminal off the premises or do you have a handle on the situation?”

Robby’s voice breaks through your thoughts. You let out a sigh before turning to face the day shift’s senior attending. His expression, usually threaded with deep exhaustion and stoicism, is teetering on the edge of playfulness while a small smile tugs at his lips. 

“Y’know what, Robinavitch? We never had this problem when we had the old machine. Mr. Coffee only had three buttons and never betrayed me.”

Robby lets out a breath through his nose — not quite a laugh, but the closest he’ll get to one this late into his shift. Gloria had decided to get the department a fancy new coffee maker that makes individual cups instead of a full pot a few weeks ago to celebrate improved patient satisfaction scores. What was meant to be a gesture of goodwill from upstairs has become the staff’s worst nightmare.

“You sound like Jack.”

You roll your eyes, but you also know no one has been more upset about this change than the night shift’s senior attending. Robby has always brought his own coffee from home, but Jack has been relying on the emergency department’s supply of shitty coffee for the entirety of his career at PTMC. You’d asked him about it once when you first started working together and he’d revealed under fluorescent lights that there was something comforting about the way it reminded him of the coffee rations he’d receive during his deployments. 

“Have you talked to Jack recently?”

Robby attempts to sound nonchalant; however, you know him better than that. You’ve come to terms with the fact that he’s worse than the night shift nurses. Always needing to be in the know about everything and everyone. He swears that it’s because he’s the senior attending, so it’s his responsibility to keep an eye and ear on all of his staff. But Jack isn’t like that. He’s always been reserved and professional during shifts, always keeping his staff at a distance so he doesn’t get too attached — everyone except for you. In between cups of coffee and rooftop conversations, you managed to slip through the cracks of that cool, steely exterior.

“We talk during handover, but that’s not exactly the same as working a twelve hour shift with someone. Why? Anything I should be concerned about?”

Robby’s lips pull into a tight smile at your response, but anxiety finds its place in your chest. During handoff about a week ago, Mateo had pulled you aside to ask if you had any idea what was going on with Jack. Your brow furrowed as Mateo filled you in about Jack’s sudden change in demeanor with his staff — the once calm and collected attending has been increasingly impatient and scattered. You’d reassured Mateo that it was probably just stress related since Jack hadn’t had a day off in months — and even then he spent his rare off-call moments volunteering as a SWAT medic. You figured that Jack had finally hit a wall and was running on fumes, but Robby’s words were now making you second your assumptions.

“Nothing of concern, just looking out for you and Jack.”

Robby has this tone that makes it seem like he knows more about your relationship with Jack Abbot than you do. You know about his history with the night shift’s senior attending physician, but Robby hasn’t been there for the close calls at three o’clock in the morning when Jack puts his complete trust in your hands without a second thought. He hasn’t been there for the nights that seem to drag on for days when it seems like the sun will never rise again. He hasn’t been there for the hushed conversations in stairwells when the night feels darkest and the only comfort to be found in PTMC is in each other’s presence. 

It’s not a bond built on flirtation — God knows, Jack Abbot flirts with everyone. And does that make you a little jealous? Maybe. And were you hoping that the distance created due to being on day shift for a few weeks would help you create some boundaries with the man? Possibly. But here you are, still infuriatingly infatuated with a man you have absolutely no chance with. 

“I can assure you there’s no Jack and I.”

“Mhm.”

That damn tone again. You want to smack that smug look right off of his stupid face, but before you get the chance to fire back a commotion outside abruptly ends your conversation. The two of you move in tandem, Robby holding the door to the break room open as you duck under his arm before surveying the scene. Your eyes immediately widen as you spot Langdon attempting to keep two infuriated men on their separate gurneys as they yell over each other. He meets your eyes before moving his gaze to Robby, relief flooding his features.

“A little help here?”

You and Robby share a brief, knowing look before dividing and conquering the situation. Robby steps in, wheeling one of the men away while you follow after Landgon who is moving with the other. 

“What’s the story here?”

You have to shout over the man’s incessant yelling, but Langdon ducks his head down slightly as he navigates the gurney through the ED to hear you better in the chaos. From not too far away, you hear Robby yell for Whitaker to take over his unruly patient so he can go find Ahmad for back up. Langdon’s shoulder bumping into yours pulls your attention back to your own situation.

“Bar argument gone ugly.”

The man laying on the gurney is bleeding profusely from lacerations on his forehead, but is cognescent enough to keep loudly threatening the other patient that came in with him. You manage to get a closer look at his wounds once Langdon locks the gurney in place and through the deep crimson you see little, semi-translucent pieces of debris. Your brow furrows as the light catches one of the pieces.

“Is that glass?”

Langdon nods before meeting your eyes with a crooked smile plastered on his face. 

“Beer bottle to the head. Told you it got ugly.”

You let out a breath before gloving up with Langdon. As the two of you attempt to assess his injuries the man begins to fight you both off, pushing your hands away before either of you can start getting control of the bleeding. You pull back hoping to get the man’s attention so that Langdon can start giving him the care he needs. 

“Sir, I’m gonna need you to calm down so that we can take a look at your injuries. Can you tell me your name?”

Finally, the man’s eyes land on you but they are filled with nothing but unbridled fury. You fight off the urge to take a step back from the situation and, instead, stand your ground. 

“What I need is to get my hands on that son of a bitch who tried to fucking kill me. Can you help me with that?”

You raise both of your hands as the man fights off Langdon once again. He gives you an exasperated look as his shoulders slump in annoyance. 

“I can not, this is a hospital not a fighting ring. What I can help you with is getting your bleeding under control and taking that glass out of your head before you get a nasty infection. How’s that sound?”

Your tone is stern but gentle as you attempt to talk the patient down. For a moment, his face softens in understanding and you almost let out a sigh of relief after having gotten through to him, but then Whitaker’s voice tears through the moment.

“I’ve got a runner, incoming!”

“Oh, shit.”

Langdon’s tone makes your heart rate spike, but before you get a chance to turn towards the commotion Whitaker’s very angry patient shoves you into the wall.

“We need some help in here! You good?”

Langdon’s worried eyes are locked on you as he tries to keep the two patients from tearing each other apart. Your shoulder took the brunt of the impact, but you had managed to stay on your feet which saved you from any additional trauma. After catching your breath, you leap in to help restrain the patient who just assaulted you.

“Sir, please. We need you to calm down!”

Your words fall on deaf ears as he continues to lunge at your patient who is now being held back by Langdon. What a fucking mess. You haven’t had a situation like this since last year’s Fourth of July night shift when two drunken men came into the E.D. after one of them practically eviscerated his buddy’s legs after shooting off a firework directly at him. Your eyes desperately meet Langdon’s, hoping he’s in the same boat as you, and he gives you a similar look of bewilderment.

“Whitaker! Ahmad! Anyone!”

Langdon’s voice is strained as the man in his arms struggles against his hold. You’re using all of your strength to pull Whitaker’s patient away from your own, but he’s got at least a foot and a hundred pounds on you. Keeping him restrained is taking all of your strength. Finally, Whitaker’s shoes squeak as he slides into the room.

“Woah, what can I do?”

Langdon gives him a ludicrous look before his eyes land on you.

“Give them a hand, will ya?”

Whitaker immediately jumps in to help you. You were hoping the additional body could help even the odds with these men; however, they seem to be getting more violent by the minute. The man in your grasp reels back and shoves Whitaker, who stumbles back. Now with only you holding him back, he takes this as a chance to take a swing on Langdon. 

“Absolutely not!”

You grab his arm and pull back before he can land a punch. The man lets out a desperate, angry cry and swings his arm back hard. His elbow connects with your nose with a loud crack. The room explodes further than you thought was possible as you spit out the blood draining into your mouth due to the blow. The searing hot pain blooming across your face blinds your vision. 

Fuck, that hurt. 

You blink once, then twice — your eyes finally adjusting to the damage. Your patient has seemingly settled down enough to be left alone, while Langdon has your assailant in a chokehold as Whitaker tries to pin his arms behind his back. 

“What the hell is going on in h—?”

Robby’s words die in his throat once his eyes land on you. His face twists into concern for a brief, fleeting moment before a dangerous rage washes over his hardened features.

“Knock it off before I knock you out.”

Robby’s voice is ice cold and it suddenly pauses the entire room. The only noise filling your ears is everyone’s heavy breathing. Robby lets everyone cool down for a moment before barking out orders.

“Ahmad, get this man out of here. Whitaker, take over the patient who didn’t attack one of our nurses. Langdon, with me.”

Everyone complies instantly and you let out a relieved sigh as the tension in the room finally dissipates. Robby makes his way to you in two large strides with Langdon behind him. He drops his head to meet your eyes which have regained their comforting warmth.

“How you doing, Slugger?”

“I’m fine. It’s nothing, really.”

Robby raises a brow as you spit more blood on to the floor, narrowly missing his sneaker. Langdon gives you a similar incredulous look. Obviously, your attempts to brush off their concern have fallen on deaf ears. Great. Two hours from shift change and now you’re a patient. 

This day can’t get any worse. 

Robby takes another step forward and carefully places a hand on your chin and gently tilts your head up toward the ceiling. You grimace immediately at the bright, fluorescent lights above you.

“You’ve got two black eyes, a broken nose, and you’re bleeding all over the floor. This isn’t nothing.”

His voice is surprisingly gentle and his features soften into a look you can only describe as brotherly concern. You sigh defeatedly, squeezing your eyes shut as the adrenaline in your body begins to subside giving way to an invasive and persistent shooting pain in your head. Robby’s hands find your shoulders — you aren’t sure if the physical contact is meant to provide you comfort or a precaution in case you pass out. Either way, you appreciate the way his delicate hold grounds you back into this moment.

“I’m going to have Langdon take you to an empty room and do a full exam. Okay?”

You open your eyes again and nod at his question. Robby’s posture relaxes slightly, obviously relieved that you didn’t stubbornly push back against his orders. He rubs your shoulders reassuringly for a moment before speaking again.

“We’re going to have to document all of this. Dana is dealing with a situation in chairs, but I’ll have her come find you when she’s done.”

You nod again, pursing your lips together into a straight line. You don’t love the idea of making a big deal out of this, but you also know that violence against health care professionals is at an all time high. The last thing this department needs is you trying to push this under the rug. Finally, Robby releases his hold on your shoulders and allows Langdon to step in.

Robby runs both his hands through his hair as he watches Langdon lead you towards a room at the back of the ED. He moves towards the hub in the center of the large room, gripping the countertop as he allows himself a moment to gather his thoughts. This is a nightmare. He needs to call Gloria about the situation that just happened. There’s  a stack of paperwork that needs to be filled out. Someone has to alert the authorities. And worst of all, he needs to call Abbot.

Hopefully, the asshole that assaulted you will be off the premises before the night shift attending rips through the emergency department. Not because he cares for the wellbeing of your assailant — more so that he doesn’t necessarily want to bail his best friend out of jail tonight. Robby sighs as he digs his phone out of his pocket. He finds Jack’s contact easily in his favorites and presses the speaker to his ear. To his surprise, the call immediately goes to voicemail. Robby knows that Jack has the day off; however, he’s always easy to reach — especially if you’re on shift. So, he dials the number again and presses the phone to his ear. But just like before, he is once again met with Jack’s voice apologizing for missing the call. That’s odd. His brow furrows, but before he can think about his friend’s odd behavior further he’s distracted by a concerned voice behind him. 

“I heard about what happened. Dana’s almost done in chairs. How can I help?”

Robby turns to look at Perlah who is currently trying to catch her breath from her obvious sprint over to him.

“Do you know who their emergency contact is?”

If he can’t get ahold of Jack, he might as well let your other loved ones know what happened. Perlah side steps the attending and logs in to one of the computers on the other side of the counter. It only takes a couple seconds to pull up your digital file and a smile spreads across the nurse’s features as she spots the name listed.

“Abbot.”

Of course he is.

“I can’t get a hold of him.”

Perlah’s expression reflects his own confusion for a moment until she remembers a conversation she had with you in the break room earlier this morning. 

“He’s gone fishing.”

Robby’s eyes shoot to his hairline as a laugh bubbles in his chest. He attempts to picture his friend in a boat by himself on the river with a fishing rod in his hand, but his mind cannot seem to compute that absolutely ludicrous concept.

“Abbot is fishing?”

“Apparently they convinced Abbot to actually take a day off, put his phone on do not disturb, and find a hobby that doesn’t involve getting shot at.”

Robby’s eyes drift to the room he watched Langdon escort you to as he attempts to wrap his head around the information he was just given. Jack Abbot is fishing on his rare day off because you asked him to find a hobby that doesn’t involve putting himself in harm’s way — and he listened. He wants to be impressed, but instead he’s just annoyed at the two of you — he’s fucking tired of watching the two of you dance around your feelings for one another. He looks down at his phone again, still confused at how his paranoid best friend could actually relax when he’s unreachable while you’re still on the clock.

Oh. 

The realization hits him like a slap to the face and he looks up at Perlah who is still anxiously waiting for the attending to start barking out orders. 

“Do you think you can manage to get their phone?”

Perlah frowns for a moment, confused by his question. And then her face lights up as she comes to the same realization as the attending standing in front of her. A smile pulls at her lips as she nods at Robby’s request.

“I think I can manage that.”

Jack Abbot enters the emergency department like a hurricane — his presence immediately disrupting the fragile peace they’ve managed to establish since your assault. Robby meets him at the door, stopping him before he can cause any unnecessary damage. 

“Where is she?”

Robby frowns. Abbot’s voice is lacking its usual warmth — in its place is a fiery, impatient intensity. 

“Let’s just cool down for a second. She’s alright — getting checked out by Langdon as we speak. Okay, Jack?”

Abbot’s brown eyes darken at Robby’s words. His posture stiffens and he’s suddenly aware that he’s no longer looking at his best friend. No, the man standing before him is a devoted soldier with one mission and God help anyone who gets in his way — he certainly isn’t dumb enough to stand between the two of you. 

“Exam room 11.”

Abbot brushes past Robby without another word and marches toward the back of the emergency department. He finally feels like he can breathe again as he enters the doorway and watches Langdon press an icepack to your nose. You flinch away from him and Frank lets out an exasperated sigh.

“You are a horrible patient.”

“Well, you’re a horrible nurse. You have to be gentle.”

Abbot leans against the doorframe, his body relaxing now that he’s heard the sound of your voice. A smile pulls at the corners of his lips at your defiance. Eventually, Langdon pulls the icepack away from your face and his blood runs cold as he gets a look at your injuries. It takes every ounce of what’s left of his self control to stay put, instead of forcing Robby to let him know who did this to you.

“I’ve got it from here, Langdon. You can get back to work.”

Both of your heads snap towards the attending standing in the doorway, but Jack’s eyes never leave yours. He watches as your expression shifts from confusion to relief before taking a few steps into the small exam room.

“Hey, Abbot. I’m actually almost done here. The rest of the exam will only take a minute.”

Jack finally regards the other man in the room, but his demeanor shifts to annoyance as Langdon continues to occupy your personal space — as he watches another man’s fingers glide gently over your cheek while he’s standing right there. The sight makes him sick to his stomach as a pervasive, ugly feeling claws at his chest.

“Langdon. Out. Now.”

Langdon’s movements suddenly still and the room immediately feels too small for the three of you. Luckily, the resident does what Jack says and exits the room without sparing you a second glance. Jack’s cold demeanor melts as soon as he hears the door close behind Langdon. 

“Hey, sweetheart.”

Jack’s voice fills the room and you finally feel safe. You let out a breath you didn’t realize you were holding as you hear his boots take careful, calculated footsteps move towards you. This is a dream — it must be. Jack’s fishing today, unreachable until after your shift ends. But then he’s standing in front of you, invading your personal space in a way that’s so undeniably him. You finally look up, meeting his piercing gaze and you swear his jaw ticks slightly as he takes in the full extent of your injuries. 

“It looks worse than it is.”

It’s a lie, but all you want is to smooth out the worried creases on his forehead. Jack tilts his head slightly at your words — considering them for a moment. His hands move slowly allowing you time to pull away, but you let him cradle your face with a tenderness that feels misplaced in this environment. His thumb gently brushes under your eye, where deep purple bruising has made its temporary home, and you flinch away from his touch before he even makes it to the worst of your injuries. Jack pulls his hands away from you and you involuntarily frown — a smirk plays at the corner of his lips as he watches the way you chase his touch. 

“Do me a favor?”

You nod at his question — not fully trusting your voice at this moment. Jack bows his head slightly, meeting you eye to eye. His gaze is a raging wildfire of emotions. It’s a stark contrast to his calm demeanor and steady hands.

“Don’t lie to me.”

You roll your eyes at this as he stands to his full height again. His hands find their way back to you again, settling on your knees as he begins assessing your injuries further. You lean in closer to him without even thinking about it — it’s like Jack Abbot is the sun and you’re simply a planet trapped in his orbit.  

“How are you here?”

Jack’s brows knit together at your question, like it’s the most ridiculous thing he’s ever heard. His thumb absentmindedly rubs gentle, grounding circles against your scrubs as his gaze trails over every visible wound on your face. 

“What do you mean?”

“You’re supposed to be fishing.”

His face scrunches at your words, but he doesn’t stop his careful assessment of your condition.

“I got a call.”

“Your phone was on do not disturb — you were unreachable.”

“To everyone other than you.”

Your breath catches in your chest at his words. He says it nonchalantly, but the significance of that statement lands harder than the elbow you took to the face. You’re the only person that Jack would let interrupt his day off. Hell, you’re the only reason he took a day off to begin with. 

“But how… Perlah.”

Jack’s head tilts as he watches you put the pieces together. Not too long after Langdon got you into the exam room, Perlah found the two of you. She helped Langdon with the exam for a few minutes before cursing that her phone had died before she made an important call. You had offered her your own, thinking nothing of the interaction. But now you understand exactly what transpired when Perlah left with your cell. 

“Yeah, scared me half to death when it wasn’t your voice on the other end.”

Your frown deepens at that. You can only imagine the fear that clawed its way back into Jack’s chest — can only imagine the unwanted memories it brought up. Your eyes glance down at his left hand, where a silver wedding band permanently resides. You remember the morning on the roof when Jack finally told you about his late wife after a particularly difficult shift. The two of you had lost a young woman whose vehicle had been struck by a drunk driver. You watched Jack go above and beyond for the woman in a way you’d never seen before. And you noticed the way his entire demeanor shifted once he had to call it after an hour of compressions. Jack slipped out of the ED the moment that the day shift showed up and you followed after once you completed handoff. You found Jack on the edge of the roof — not surprising on any other day, but a concerning visual after what you just witnessed that night. He knew you’d find him — you always do. And as you took your usual place, leaning your elbows against the railing right behind him, he finally opened up about the worst day he’s ever experienced. You listened as he told you about how his wife was in an accident. How she was dead on impact and EMS found her phone on the scene. How Jack was her only emergency contact. How he despises that the last time his wife called him he never even got to hear her voice. How he knows he’s your emergency contact. How his heart can’t go through that again. 

“I’m sorry, Jack. The last thing I wanted was for you to worry about me on your day off.”

Jack’s brow furrows at your words.

“Sweetheart, all I do when I’m not with you is worry.”

You both let that sentence linger in the room for a few moments. Jack continues to trace shapes into your shrubs as you attempt to calm your nerves as you realize how intimate this conversation feels. Finally, Jack breaks the silence.

“Can you just come back to the night shift so I can stop freaking out every time my phone rings throughout the day?”

You almost smile at that.

“Donnie comes back in two weeks.”

You mean for that to be comforting; however, this only makes Jack’s body stiffen in response. His head drops as he lets out a long sigh.

“Two weeks is too long.”

“You’re not my boss, Jack.”

Jack pulls his hands away and you watch as he runs them through his short, grey curls. He looks exhausted — and you suddenly feel guilty that his relaxing day off has turned into this. 

“You’re right, but sweetheart, I can’t do this without you anymore.”

A part of you wants to throttle him because of that nickname and how easily it falls off his lips — how it’ll only feel right when it’s his voice saying it to you. 

“Do what?”

Jack looks at you and his face twists into confusion as he realizes your question is genuine.

“Get through the fucking night.”

A beat passes. You desperately want to just say yes. It’s what you want isn’t it? Returning to the night shift — returning to him. But that’s also the problem. What is this? You thought your switch to day shift would give you some sort of explanation, but your time away has only made you more confused. Would it actually just be easier if the two of you only saw each other during handoff? No domestic moments between cups of coffee, no more mornings spent side-by-side on the rooftop, no more stolen, fleeting touches as he passes you on your way to the hub. You know what you are to Robby — to everyone on day shift. It’s simple. But with Jack — it’s never been simple and maybe that’s the problem.

“What if I want to stay on the day shift?”

Jack recoils like you just threw a punch at him. Guilt claws up your throat as you watch his face fall. It’s a lie — you know that it is. You love everything about the night shift, but you also don’t know how much longer you can keep playing this game with Jack before you simply fall apart. 

“Why would you want that?”

“Because at least I know where I stand with everyone here.”

Jack’s brow furrows — you hate that it’s cute. That everything about him draws you in.

“You don’t know where you stand with me?”

You shake your head and he scoffs — the sound is surprisingly cold. He looks at you, brow pinched into a scowl. And then he realizes that you’re serious. Your expression is nothing but unashamed honesty and his head cocks to the side at that. Do you really think he’s been stringing you along this entire time? That this has all been meaningless flirtation? That you mean nothing to him?

He takes a step forward, slotting himself between your knees. Your breath catches as he reaches up and gently cradles your face. His touch is different than before — all professionalism has been cast aside and is now replaced with his overwhelming adoration. Without thinking your fingers grab the hem of his black t-shirt. He smiles as he feels you nervously pick at a loose stitch before he ducks his head and his lips finally meet your own. Your grip on his t-shirt tightens as he moves his hands through your hair. Now this is a dream. The kiss is soft and restrained — you know he’s holding back due to your injuries. The last thing he wants to do is hurt you. Jack pulls away too soon for your liking, but he doesn’t move away. Instead, he places his forehead against yours. 

“Sweetheart, I’ve been yours since the minute you walked through the fucking door.”

You bite your lip as you attempt to hold back the giddy grin that begs to spread itself across your face. 

“You never said anything.”

Jack pulls away at that, not far — just enough to get a good look at you. The look on his face is incredulous — like it’s absurd you don’t know that his entire life revolves around you at this point.

“I thought I made myself abundantly clear.”

You laugh at that and Jack steals a kiss from your lips just because he can.

“I take it Robby gave you the rest of the day off?”

You nod, smiling as you feel Jack thread his fingers through yours.

“He told me to go home after Langdon finished my exam — who you should apologize to.”

Jack’s jaw clenches slightly as his brow furrows. 

“Him being here was unnecessary.”

You watch him for a moment, trying to understand what happened between the two men that never seemed to have any sort of animosity prior to today. And then your hand tightens around Jack’s as you realize what happened.

“You were jealous.”

Jack rolls his eyes.

“I have no reason to be jealous.”

You raise a brow at his statement. He’s not wrong — he has no reason to be jealous of Frank Langdon, but you know the resident somehow got under his skin. He may be able to maintain his facade of nonchalance to the rest of his staff, but you see right through him.

“What makes you so confident?”

“Because Langdon isn’t the one taking you home right now, is he?”

[cowboycastles]

FUCUCCCCCKKKKK😭😭😭😭😭

[richeeduvie]

cw: pregnancy, postpartum!reader, spit, licking

After the birth of your beautiful baby that Jack put inside you, your old body is gone. Sorely missed, really. But Jack? He has no interest in helping you find it again.

He has you sprawled out across the bed. You're beautifully marked by the journey of mommyhood. And Jack doesn't just love your new body. That'd be very unlike him.

"Look at you, Mommy."

...Yeah. Jack's obsessed with the mommy he made. All the changes she's undergone for him.

"If you wanna get rid of the evidence that I filled you...fine. Can't stop you. But if it matters, I didn't know how much I needed you like this."

He moves his weight over you, his eyes of every color blown in a way you can only call predatory. Maybe wanting. Unblinking want.

"Jackie..."

Jack stares down at the stretch marks, the jagged lines tracing your hips and your belly. The map of his ownership, your growth...but that would be if he were feeling poetic. Again. He hasn't read a poem since high school.

Right now, though, he's just feeling hungry as shit.

"Jack...Daddy---"

Jack doesn't answer you with words. He takes to leaning down instead.

His tongue darts out to taste you.

"Mm."

His spit tickles you in a way that makes you squirm as he begins to lick your stretch marks with a focused, rhythmic swirl. He laps and circles over your skin. It's when he closes his eyes shut.

Just need to savor Kiddo. Take in the scent of Mommy.

"Little too corny to say you're a delicacy. Not that you're delicate. You've proven you're durable. Just..."

Jack's tongue is its way when his tongue trails the length of a particularly long mark that curves around your hip. He slurps. Just to clean up what he's left behind.

"You taste so fucking sweet, Sleepy."

He could suck on you all day. You should take it as a compliment by now. How he coats your stomach in his spit, as if he could taste every bit of stretch and strain your body took to growing a baby.

You whimper, twitching beneath him.

It's the way Jack's looking at you, too, that doesn't help. You feel like the most prized, favored piece of meat.

...You feel like a beautiful mommy.

"Please, Jack…I want you inside."

Your voice breaks. Jack pauses, his chin glistening with his saliva and your sweat.

He smiles thinly. A smirk, more so.

"Not yet. Just because you're a mommy now doesn't mean you get to boss me around."

Jack gives one last, dragging lick from your navel all the way down to where your hip meets your thigh. His eyes keep themselves staring into yours.

He does whatever you want all the time. He'll do whatever you want forever.

"M'not finished with my dessert."

[cowboycastles]

Ohhhhhh🤤🤤🤤🤤🤤🤤🤤🤤🤤

[timothyolyphant]

im being so brave about this

[cowboycastles]

i just had to take a deep breath.

[lukovsnirvana]

PALM OF HIS HAND ⋆˚࿔ jack abbot smau

11. day fifty-one. masterlist

summary your mom has some feelings to let out, and so do you. jack tries to right his wrongs

warnings author tries to be funny ™, estranged parent (talks about a bad childhood, and verbal abuse), jack abbot redemption, swearing

a/n promise he’s not getting off this easy; this chapter was a chop

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[agnireed]

So hearing shawn hatosy say “the way you like to be fucked” while he moans and groans in my ear just ruined my life

[oneshortdamnfuse]

Season 1 Ending: Trinity Santos invites her homeless coworker who she just met to live rent free in her apartment.

Season 2 Ending: Trinity Santos invites her lonely coworker to get drinks and sing karaoke so she won’t be alone on July 4th

And the fandom rabidly hates her and thinks she’s the worst most evil person to ever exist.

[cowboycastles]

Could you maybe write a fic/ blurb / preferences with the Hatosy men and a partially deaf/hard of hearing partner? Pretty please and thank you 🤍🤍🤍🤍

hey anon ! i totally would but i dont take reqs cs everything i write genuinely comes from the top of my head and i normally write while watching the show for the character im writing :p the ideas just form and i write something up, im also not good at writing for other people cs i overthink so much :( im sorry anon <3

[cryptic-doe]

he holds me in his big arms

synopsis: took a tumble at the bar? don't fear, your big and strong boyfriend jack abbot is here

warnings: reader is called moony bc of a tattoo she has, slight cursing, being drunk, uhh idk what else

your head feels fuzzy. and your body feels light. and you're... really fucking giggly right now. there's familiar voices, but they sounds muffled. like your head is pushed under water.

"who do we call?" a voice asks, whitaker, maybe? "we can't leave her like this. she's like, nonstop laughing right now."

"i don't fucking know. does she have any friends besides us?" santos. that's definitely santos.

"well... there is someone we can call."

"shit, you're right. but he's working, think he'll answer?"

"for her? yeah, he'll answer."

somebody is digging in your purse, tugging out your phone. you reach out for it weakly. "hey..."

"slow down, moony. we're not taking your phone, just calling for backup," santos says, shoving the phone in your face to unlock it. she clicks on your contacts, ready to search, but there's no need for it. because he's pinned right at the top, saved as: dadaman <33

she presses the phone icon beside his name, expecting for it to go straight to voicemail, but he picks up after the second ring. "hey, sweetheart. i just finished up and i'm heading home."

"uh, sorry, this is santos. i'm just using her phone. she's really drunk and she fell. whitaker and i didn't wanna leave her alone."

she can hear the sound of rushing footsteps. "how bad?"

"not bad at all. her vision is fine, says it's not blurry. she didn't hit her head, just a few scratches on her."

"i'll be there soon."

"see you, abbot." santos goes to hang up, but your voice calls out to her.

"is that jackie?"

"yep, it is. here."

you practically snatch the phone from her hand, holding it up to your ear. "hi, jackie," you say with sweetest smile.

"hey, sweetheart," he greets back. "you doing okay?"

"mhm! are you coming?"

"i'm on my way as we speak. only a minute or two out, okay?"

"okay, baby. i'm with whitaker and santos right now. oh! and there was this really cute dog who just passed me on the street. he was grey with big, brown eyes. he looked just like you!"

"that's nice, honey. you stay put where you are. i don't wanna lose you."

you giggle loudly, like what he said was the funniest thing in the world. "you could never lose me."

you could almost envision his soft smile through the phone. "that's good to know, sweetheart. arev you sitting on the ground against a lightpole?" he asks.

your eyebrows furrow. "how did you know?"

"look behind you, moony."

when you do, there he is. standing behind you in all his sexy glory. "jackie!" you exclaim, rushing over to him clumsily. he meets you halfway, arms wrapping around your waist. "hey, pretty girl, you ready to go?"

you nod, turning to look at your friends. "bye! love you!" the two of them wave back. "thanks for watching her, guys," jack says to them, and they both nod.

"they're so in love it's disgusting," santos whispers to whitaker.

"shut up, that's literally you with garcia," whitaker retorts. he gets slapped in the arm.

meanwhile, jack is carrying in his arms, all the way to his truck. "you're so strongg, baby," you say, squeezing at his muscle.

he chuckles. "gotta be so i can take care of you. but i heard someone took a mighty big fall earlier."

"my hands are all scratched up, see." there's a big pout on your lips as you raise your hands to show him. finally at his truck, he places you in the front seat, buckling you up, before gently grabbing your wrists to inspect. you'll be fine, he thinks. wash them up, put some neosporin on, and then a bandaid. they'll be good as new.

he kisses each palm, and then places another one on the inside of your left wrist. right on top of your moon tattoo. "i'll clean you up when we get home, yeah?"

your eyes are already halfway shut, ready to fall asleep at any moment. but you're lucid enough to whisper, "thank you for taking care of me, jackie."

he kisses you one last time. this time on your forehead. "always, sweetheart, always."

a/n: wrote this in ten minutes so maybe it's ass

[cowboycastles]

FUCCCCKKKK

[cowboycastles]

chat im such a loser what is this

[justalittlepitt]

cw: pregnant!reader

a/n: yes, this is inspired by the office

Jack Abbot liked to believe that the staff at PTMC was smart. How could they not be? They'd all gone to school for years on end, had life experiences that they brought to the job, experienced some of the worst cases and came back to work day after day. You, as his wife, was of course included. It definitely helped that you were one of the most badass nurses the ED had ever seen.

Ellis sat at the hub, catching up on her charting and yet, you and his fellow attending were nowhere to be found. That wasn't good. He did a quick glance around the room to make sure everything was good before bracing his arms on the counter, "Ellis, you seen my wife? Or Shen?"

"The feast," Ellis responds without taking her eyes off the computer screen.

"The what?" Jack asks while blinking rapidly.

She chuckles, "it's her last shift before her maternity leave so she and Shen are having their last four a.m. feast together."

"What the hell does that mean?" Jack asks.

Ellis drops her hands and spins in her chair to look at her attending with a deadpan expression, "every week since the start of her second trimester, she and Shen have been having what they call a feast. They stuff their faces with different baked goods and sweets. That's all."

Jack rolls his eyes, his stride long as he makes his way back to the break room with a scolding on the tip of his tongue. The words fizzled away to nothing as his face fell into one of pure puzzlement at the sight before him.

On the small break room table was a spread that could have rivaled any of the bakeries in town. A cake sat at the center, danishes sat to the right, muffins to the left, croissants behind the cake, and cookies in front. You were lounging in a plastic chair with your legs propped up on another, looking so relaxed that one might think you were laid out on a beach and not in a hospital break room. You happily take the brownie Shen extends to you and bite into it despite having a mouthful of frosting.

These are the exact moments that make him question the intelligence of his team. How is it that, you, his beautiful, very pregnant wife, and Shen, his... decent, fellow attending, found time in the midst of an emergency department shift to have a feast? He supposed that orchestrating all of this right below his nose did take a certain type of cleverness.

He pushed the door open as quietly as he could, catching your voice, "the cream puffs this time are much better than the ones we had in week 25."

"Totally. I think week 25's were frozen. This place is legit!" John agrees with a mouthful of donut.

"What do we have here?" Jack asks, his arms crossed across his chest with a smug smirk.

Your eyes widen in shock, like a kid being caught with their hand in the cookie jar. Literally. "Jackie," you sing song with an awkward grimace.

"Nuh uh, Sweetheart. Really? I walk in on two of my staff members devouring the equivalent of a small pastry shop?" He asks with a quirked brow.

"Technically, the wife works for Lena," Shen points out through a mouthful of what Jack can only assume is a bite of cake. Red velvet?

"The wife," Jack repeats, "also knows she should be watching her sugar intake."

You exhale loudly, "the baby and I will be fine. It's once a week where I'm bad for half an hour at most. Plus, this is probably the last time before I'm banned from anything sweet because I'm on the Dr. Jack Abbot Diet of Doom and Gloom for the rest of my pregnancy."

"The Diet of Doom and Gloom? Did that apply to my midshift runs to get you chicken nuggets and fries a handful of times? Or when you made Ellis run up to the cafeteria to get you soft serve with crocodile tears in your eyes?" He lists off.

You purse your lips and divert your gaze with a shrug, "baby brain made me forget."

"Sure, blame the baby," Jack chuckles, pressing a kiss to your temple, "wrap it up in here and then come back to your jobs, yeah?"

"The wife and I still have sweets in the freezer to get to," John groans as he throws his hands up, "we'll have to rework the schedule since we're being rushed."

"The ice cream cake!" You wail with genuine tears building in your lash line.

Jack nods slowly and judgmentally as he slowly backs out of the room, watching on as you and Shen struggle to make room on the table. Maybe he'd have been better off if he didn't know this was happening...

divider from cursed-carmine <3

[cowboycastles]

LOVVEEE LOVE LOVE LOVEEE

[cowboycastles]

GUYS IM A LOSER WHY DOES IT HAVE OVER THREE HUNDRED LIKES PLS

[cowboycastles]

pope cody and his partner that falls to sleep immediately after having sex.

he had only just pulled out and flopped back onto the bed beside you when your eyes are already fluttering shut and your brain has switched off— partly because of the overstimulation he just gave you— he watches and your body relaxes and slows down with a soft huff of laughter and smile.

the first time you two hooked up he got so scared and thought that he had hurt you or done something wrong, he wanted to clean you up, he always gave the person he had sex with aftercare. always. so you had to reassure him that he hadnt done nothing wrong and that youre just tired.

…… when hes still pent up after only one round and youre already exhausted you give him the go ahead to fuck you while you’re sleeping. popey needs his release.

… or pope who gets up after a few minutes, going to the bathroom to get a warm cloth to wash the drying cum off your thighs and belly :p

[cowboycastles]

im si scared why is this doing well guys im a loser

[cowboycastles]

bro everything i write abiut pope cody i write while watching the show so its so not proofread its😭😭😭😭😭😭 im so sorry for bad grammar and soelling chat