notes: baran x fem!reader, dom!baran, mommy kink, strap-ons (r!receiving)
baran being a stickler for good posture. she's not overbearing about it with other people, but if you're her girl, she will definitely make a little comment about it when she notices you slouching. only because she knows behind your eye-roll and snarky, "yes, mom" you secretly enjoy the little correction. it makes you feel seen and you know she does it because she cares.
plus, the little whispered, "that's mommy to you." after your comment makes you shiver
baran starts doing something new one day. instead of her gentle reminder to, "sit up straight, honey." you feel a slow stroke straight up your back, right along your spine. baran's fingers brushing against you with such delicate precision makes your whole body shudder, and, without thinking, you straighten up as a reaction.
you look up at her as she comes into your view, and she has a very amused smirk tugging at the corner of her lips.
it's baran's new favorite thing to do to you. a little way for her to remind you of her casual dominance over you. teasing and caring and powerful feeling all at once, perfect for baran.
then one night, you're in bed together. baran is behind you, wearing that thick strap that hits you so deep and stretches you right on that edge of pain and pleasure. you've slumped down into the mattress, drooling and moaning into the expensive silk sheets.
and then you feel it. soft fingers running down the length of your spine, the same motion she does when she straightens your posture. just in reverse. you moan, hiding your face.
"arch your back," baran mumbles, repeating the motion. you obey, arching your spine to give her what she wants to see. baran groans above you, biting her lip at the sight. her hands fall to your waist, and she starts fucking into you faster, the wet noise of your cunt paired with the slapping of skin against skin. "there she is. good girl."
⌗ ⠀ parker ellis ⠀ ✗ ⠀𝒇 ! reader , O.445k . ⠀ 𓊈 ⠀able - bodied reader ༝ black ! fem ! reader ༝ fluff fluff ༝ brief mention of an ex ⠀𓊉 ⠀ ✴︎ ⠀ 𝒎𝓲𝗻𝗼𝗿𝘀 𝗱𝗼 𝗻𝗼𝘁 𝗶𝗻𝘁𝗲𝗿𝗮𝗰𝘁 .
⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀𝓻𝐞𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐬⠀ ⠀𝐚𝐫𝐞⠀ ⠀𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐝⠀!
“ Ow ! “ You probably hear say it for the fourth time already and she tries to turn around and shoot you one of her offended gaze but you’re quick to replace her head straight. She grunts and roll her eyes. “ Did you use to make her suffer like that too or it’s just me you love to torture ?”
You huff and scoop some more gel onto your fingers. Used to the activity, your wrists are quick to work and in less than one minute you’re already done with the loc you had difficulty twisting for the past five minutes because of your girlfriend. She didn’t even know you could retwist locs until a few months ago and since then you into her personal hairstylist.
“ FYI, she didn’t move as much as you do now. And stay still babe.” You replace her head again. Parker had a way to never stand still while you did her hair. It didn’t bother you that much. But she wanted to be done with quickly, patience had to stand in her way a while longer than she wanted to.
“ Damn. My old hairstylist wasn’t that strict.” The older woman complains. You pull on her loc a bit too hard, she grunts as her head tips back against the edge of the couch and her puzzled boba eyes are met with the innocent smile on your lips.
“ I should just start charging you for saying that.”
“ Hmm.” It’s her turn to time and you already feel the tension between you too shift. “ I don’t have anything on me right now. But I sure can give you something else, baby.”
A laugh escapes your mouth and you lean to kiss the smirk pulling at the corner of her mouth. “ I’m sure we can. But after I’m done with your hair.”
⠀⠀ 𝒾.⠀ 𓂅 ⠀·⠀⠀⠀ 𝒕𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 ⠀ : @pittsick @rh1nestcned @mtcloudsworld @blehbarbie @mcthsman @lilahthedoll @ilikebeingdelulu @nuitts , ⠀𓊆 to be added to the taglist , comment under this post or fill up the form 𓊇⠀.
Summary: Much to his delight, Jack is finally listed as a guardian at Nova’s daycare. He continues to grow his connection with Nova. He also get another chance of asking you on a date.
Series Link
Warning(s): flirting, a little dirty talk from Jack, but nothing too crazy, nightmares, nova gets a little scared
Lovergirlnote: Heyyy, so I was going to add the date to this chapter, but I really liked the end of this chapter, so I’m saving it for the next upload. Also, shout out to @a-true-janian-reply for the suggestion about Jack comforting Nova after a bad dream. As always, let me know what you think!♥️
Chapter VI: Jack Abbot, Emergency Contact
Jack casually tosses Nova in the air as she giggles loudly. Her loud squeals fill the living room before he catches her again and pretends to fly her around the living room.
“Look at that baby, we’re gonna have to make an emergency landing to mommy,” Jack whispers before making plane noises and navigating her over in your direction.
You open your arms wide and catch Nova as you snuggle her into your chest. She laughs loudly, “Mommy! Dada airplane!”
“Yeah, I see, lovebug. You and Daddy were playing airplanes. You were so brave,” you said, before plopping a large kiss on her chubby cheeks.
Jack plops down on the couch next to you and Nova as he leans over to give his little kiss on her cheek. She gladly accepts the love and affection that she’s receiving from you and Jack.
You turn your head in time to catch the soft smile on Jack’s lips, “What?”
He looks down shyly, “Nothing. It’s just, I’m the luckiest guy in the world. I get to be here with my best girls. Nothing could top this moment.”
You reach over to toy with his silver curls, “We’re happy to have you here, Jack. Seriously, I couldn’t imagine doing this with anyone else.”
You both look at each other for a moment before Jack leans in to press a kiss to your lips. He pecks your lips a few more times. You’re both interrupted by the sound of Nova clapping and giggling.
“Yay! Mama! Dada! Kiss,” she states, grinning excitedly at you and Jack. She looks between you and Jack and seems genuinely pleased with herself.
“Are you hungry, Nova?” You ask, setting her between you and Jack.
“Mhmm, mama, salmon,” Nova replies. You chuckle to yourself. Your baby would have an advanced palette at such a young age.
You glance at Jack, “You wanna stay for dinner?”
“Yeah, I’d like that a lot,” He responds, that same bright smile returning to his face as he plays with your fingers.
You gently tickle Nova’s side, to which she giggles, “Do you want Daddy to help us cook, lovebug?”
“Yes, Dada cook!”
She slides from the couch and walks to her toy chest to pull the small chef’s apron out of the box. Nova slides the little apron over her outfit and comes to stand in front of you and Jack.
“Dada, I cook!” She states proudly.
Cue Jack’s heart melting in his chest. “I see, babygirl. You look so cute! The best chef around.” Nova pulls on your and Jack’s hands to stand from the couch. She ushers you both into the kitchen as you pick her up.
You let Nova get the salmon from the fridge as she sets it on the counter. You set her on the counter as you move to grab the pan and seasonings.
Jack makes sure to stand close by to keep a steady hand on Nova, who hums happily from the counter.
As you clean and season the salmon, Jack can’t help but admire the scene in front of him. You turn to face him, “You’re supposed to be helping, daddy.”
He swallows roughly at the sound of the words leaving your lips. “You tell daddy where you need him, and I’m there, sweetheart.”
“You can cup up the broccoli florets with Nova. It’s her favorite part,” you comment, as you hand Nova her child-safe knife. It was hardly sharp and wouldn’t even be sharp enough to prick her finger.
Yet, Jack keeps a close eye on her regardless. His heart clenches at even the slightest thought of his baby getting hurt.
Nova sticks her tongue out slightly as she navigates the floret in front of her and brings the knife down to cut at it. The little knife slides effortlessly through the broccoli—a little crooked but a success nonetheless.
Nova holds the broccoli up in her little fingers, “Mama! Dada! I cut!”
You and Jack gasp in wonder before cheering and clapping. “Oh my goodness, lovebug, you’re doing so good!”
“We’re so proud of you, Nova. Our big girl,” Jack praises. Nova smiles widely at the mutual praise. You’d always tried to make it your mission to praise Nova at every step of the way and build her confidence up.
The last thing you want is for your baby girl to be hard on herself at a young age.
You, Jack, and Nova work effortlessly together as you search for the salmon. Jack works on peeling the potatoes before depositing them in the pot of boiling water.
As he passes you to dispose of the potato peels, he slides an arm around your waist and pulls you back into his chest. You chuckle and reach back to curl your fingers through his hair as he gently sways with you in his hold.
By now, Nova had decided that she had completed her tasks of cutting up broccoli, and she was dancing to Gracie’s Corner with Bun Bun.
You and Jack both watch her excitement and pure joy as she giggles.
“I hope she never loses that joy,” You tell Jack, who leans down to press a kiss on the side of your head. He looks at Nova, “She won’t. We’ll be here to make sure that she doesn’t. The world needs more joy like hers.”
It scares Jack to think of anyone possibly hurting his little girl. It’s only been a few months, and he’s already in protective dad mode. He never realized that it was possible to feel so much love in his heart for someone.
But as he looks at Nova and even at you, all he can feel is the love that he holds for you both.
It’s also not lost on him the pure domesticity of this moment with you. For a moment, he allows himself to envision a future ahead of him. You, him, and Nova. A ring on your finger….and maybe another baby.
Jack finds that he likes the fantasy more than he can acknowledge right now.
As he sits at the table having dinner with you and Nova, Jack realizes that he’s truly the luckiest man in the world, and he fears that nothing can top being here with his girls.
It’s one of those rare off days for Jack. Since he’s been in your and Nova’s lives, he’s been learning to slow down more so that he’s present with you both. He finds that there isn’t a moment that he wants to miss with you or Nova. He doesn’t want to miss any of her milestones, even if it’s just her drawing a picture.
He’d called you in the morning when he knew that you and Nova were getting ready to wish you both a good morning.
Even through her sleepiness, Nova still couldn’t contain her excitement at hearing Jack’s voice on the phone. He’d spoken to you during lunch while he casually lounged on the couch.
Jack has to admit to himself—it’s a lot more relaxing to not be in a rush and to have a moment to just sit and breathe. For the past few years, since the divorce, he’d thrown himself off the deep end on working countless shifts.
The police scanner that he often liked to listen to hadn’t been turned on in months since he had met you and Nova.
He really figured there was no use for the scanner, especially when he was spending most of his time with his girls.
Jack falls asleep on the couch with Bluey playing in the background. He’d actually found himself watching the show even when Nova wasn’t around. Quite surprisingly, the show taught a lot of valuable lessons, especially with it being geared toward kids.
He jumps at the sound of his phone buzzing from the table and moves to pick it up. Your picture pops up on the phone—one that he’d taken of you and Nova on one of your family outings.
He clicks the answer button and puts the phone to his ear, “Hey, sweetheart. Everything okay?”
“Hi, so I may have a little situation…” You start, to which Jack sits up straighter.
“Are you and Nova okay?” He asks, standing up from the couch to grab his keys.
“Oh no, it’s not anything too dire. My car is having some problems, but don’t worry, I’m at the shop. I need someone to go pick Nova up from the daycare. I would’ve asked Zara, but she’s working overtime this week at her job. Would you mind going to get her?” You ask, and Jack can hear the rise in your tone at having to ask him.
He lets out a sigh of relief at you and Nova being safe. “Yeah, honey, I can go get her. Do you want me to swing by the car place?”
“No, it’s fine. I actually know the mechanic, and he let me know that it’s nothing serious, so you don’t have to worry about him up-charging me either,” you explain with a slight laugh. It was cute that he was already being protective of you and Nova.
Jack nods, “Good. Don’t worry about anything, I’ll go pick Nova up and bring her here. If something else comes up, let me know, and I’ll come. Okay, baby?”
“Okay. Thank you, Jack. Really, you’ve been amazing,” you said.
“S’no problem. I’d do anything for you and Nova. Text me updates on your car and when you’re on the road.”
“I will. I’m gonna call Nova’s daycare to let them know you’re on your way to pick her up.”
You and Jack say your byes before he’s heading out the door to his truck. He checks the backseat where Nova’s car seat is. He pulls on the car seat multiple times and checks the seat belts to make sure that everything is attached.
As he drives to the daycare, a certain giddiness enters his chest at the fact that he’s getting to pick his baby up from daycare. That same goofy boyish smile works its way onto his face at the thought.
Jack parks his truck in front of the daycare and walks through the front door. He finds a girl with box braids sitting at the front desk, typing away at the computer. An older woman with silver hair stands next to her. They both look at him as he enters.
“Hi, welcome to Miss Sunshine’s. How can we help you?” The girl asks.
“Hi, I’m Jack Abbot. I’m here to pick up Nova,” He explains, fighting (and failing) to hide the smile that covers his face.
Both women look at each other before looking back at Jack in appreciation. The older woman smirks, “Huh, so you’re the new daddy?” She raises her eyebrows at the end of the question.
Jack blushes at the double meaning. He nods, “Yes ma’am, that’d be me.”
The older woman holds her hand out, “Berta Jones, but you can call me Ms. Berta. It’s nice to finally put a name to a face. Little Miss Nova can’t get enough of telling everyone about her Dada. You know, you’re a permanent fixture in her pictures now. She even makes it a point to let us know that it’s you in the picture.”
The tears sting at the back of Jack’s eyes. He swallows down the sob, but it’s clear by the way that his face softens that it hits him directly in the chest.
His little girl had fully adopted him in the lexicon of her mind. In her mind, he was Dad, and there was no confusion about it.
He shakes Ms. Berta’s hand and smiles.
“I’m glad to hear that. I love Nova a lot, so I’m honored to be a part of her life.”
Ms. Berta nods, seemingly pleased with his answer. She looks down at the girl, “Connie, why don’t you set Jack up a profile in the system and take his picture?”
“Yes, ma’am,” Connie responds, pulling up the form.
She hums lightly before looking up at him, “Okay, Mr. Abbot, what’s a good phone number and address for you?”
Jack recites the information as Connie types it in and reads it back to him. Little does he know that Ms. Berta watches the eagerness in his posture at being able to do this. Through her experience of being a daycare owner, she’d seen her fair share of fathers.
There were the ones who came to pick up their kids because their partners told them to. Those men were the ones who huffed and puffed like it was an inconvenience to pick up their own kids. There were the baby daddies, who were still navigating the highs and lows of fatherhood. But then there were men like Jack.
Men who actually took joy in the role of being a father. Even though Nova isn’t biologically his, Ms. Berta can say with full certainty that none of that matters to you. Nova is his through and through, and no one would be able to take that from him.
She knows he’s cut out for fatherhood by the way that he smiles brightly for the picture.
She glances at Jack, “We’re printing your badge out. That way, any time you need to come pick up Nova, you’d scan in and show whoever is at the front desk. Come on, I’ll take you back to Nova. She’s gonna be very happy to see you.”
She types a code into the door before opening it and ushering Jack through. He can see why you chose the place. There are multiple classrooms set with kids learning in them. He even spots a nursery with cribs where babies are sleeping.
Ms. Berta catches his inquiring gaze, “Have you ever imagined yourself being a father?”
“Yes, ma’am, I did. I thought about it a lot growing up. I just figured it was off the table for me, but Nova’s made me realize that it isn’t too late,” he explains, following behind her.
Soon, they’re standing in front of a door together. Jack peers through the window and spots Nova sitting with some other kids and playing with them. His heart melts as he takes in the sight of her building blocks and even shares them with the other kids.
Ms. Berta catches his look. “She’s a very sweet little girl. She’s always sharing and making sure everyone’s included. If someone is crying, she’s the first one hugging them.”
Jack chuckles, “That’s all her mom’s hard work. She’s been amazing at raising Nova.”
“Sounds like you really like her,” Ms. Berta comments, smirking at Jack.
He smiles in return, “Yeah, I like her a lot. She’s a beautiful and intelligent woman. I’d be crazy not to appreciate what I have.”
“Good answer. You ready to see your baby?”
Jack nods quickly. Ms. Berta opens the door and walks in, “Miss Nova, it looks like you have a very special guest here to pick you up.”
At the sound of her name, Nova looks up, and her eyes immediately flicker over to Jack. Both Jack and Ms. Berta watch as the little girl’s eyes widen in excitement and the grin that takes over her dimpled cheeks.
She stands from the ground and immediately starts running towards Jack, “Dada!!”
Jack bends down just in time to catch Nova in his arms. She throws her arms around his neck and hugs him tight, “Missed you, Dada.”
Jack hugs back equally as tight and kisses her cheek, “I missed you too, Princess. You look so pretty in your outfit. Did you pick this out or did mommy?”
“I did, Dada,” Nova states proudly.
Jack smiles, “That’s amazing, baby. You look so pretty. Now, mommy had some problems with her car, so Dada’s gonna take you home until mommy is done, okay?”
“Otay, Dada,” Nova replies, seemingly already on board with the plan.
“Miss Nova, do you want to show your daddy some of your work?” Ms. Berta asks.
Nova nods excitedly in Jack’s arms. He follows behind Ms. Berta until she reaches the folder with Nova’s name. As Jack scans through the folder, he’s truly impressed by the work that Nova’s doing even at one.
He flips to the next page and finds a picture that Nova has recently drawn. In the picture, there are three stick figures. The small stick figure is in the middle while two bigger stick figures hold hands with the smaller one.
Above, the small stick figure, Nova, has written “me.” Above the bigger ones, she’s written “mama” and “dada.” There’s a big heart above the three figures. Jack breathes deeply as the emotions start to hit him. His lip trembles slightly.
Nova looks up at him, “You, Dada.”
“Yeah, I see, lovebug. You did so good. I love it,” Jack states, discreetly wiping at his eyes.
Once he gathers Nova’s small backpack over his shoulder and she carries Bun Bun in her arms, he walks to the front desk to fully sign her out.
As he signs his name, he gets to the portion of the form that states, “Relationship to child,” and he gladly scribbles “Father” in the box.
“Alright, Mr. Abbot, you’re all set. Here’s your official badge!” Connie chirps as she slides the laminated piece of plastic over to him.
“Thank you,” He tells Connie and Ms. Berta.
“You’re welcome. Bye, Ms. Nova. We’ll see you tomorrow,” Ms. Berta calls.
Nova waves from Jack’s arms and bids them goodbye. When they get outside, Jack straps her down in her car seat. He checks the seatbelts multiple times before sighing in satisfaction.
He hands Nova his iPad and turns it on Bluey for the drive home. He’s already proactive enough to have a small pouch of Goldfish waiting for her, along with a sippy cup of apple juice.
He rounds the truck and gets in. Before he leaves the parking lot, he looks down at the badge that Connie gave him. The picture of him that was taken sits in the corner, along with the logo for Miss Sunshine’s.
It’s the information that makes him tear up.
Jack Abbot
Father of Nova LN
Phone number: (724)-129-1975
He wipes the tear as it falls. He was officially listed as Nova’s father in some capacity. He doesn’t take the fact lightly. It means the world.
When Jack arrives at his house, Nova is still humming happily to the Bluey theme song. By now, she’s finished her Goldfish. Jack dusts the small crumbs from her lap and lifts her into his arms.
He listens as she starts recounting her day to him. His phone buzzes from his pocket, and he checks it.
My Girl💕
Hey, my car’s all fixed now. I’m about to head to your house.
Jackie💗
Sounds good, baby.
Nova and I just got here. We’ll be waiting for you. Drive safely♥️
He kisses Nova’s cheek as he walks into the house. Setting her down gently, he kneels in front of her, “Hey, sweetie, you hungry?”
“Mhmm, chikey nuggies, Dada.”
Jack nods, “Okay, I got some Dino nuggies, you wanna help me put them on?”
Nova nods and slides from the couch to walk into the kitchen with Jack. She’s been to his house so much at this point that she’s memorized the layout just as well as your own apartment.
Jack picks her up once they reach the kitchen and grabs the nuggets from the freezer. He lets Nova help him with setting the nuggets on the baking sheet before they both slide them into the oven.
They both go back into the living room, where Nova walks to her toy box with Bun Bun. Jack glances over and finds her stacking blocks and talking to Bun Bun.
He settles on watching baseball.
Soon, he hears the sound of your car pulling into the driveway.
“Mommy’s here, Nova,” Jack announces.
Nova moves from her spot on the carpet and follows Jack to the door. “Mommy,” she chants on the way to the door.
As soon as he opens the door, Jack moves to the side so that Nova can walk out to you. She starts to scream in excitement upon seeing you.
“Mommy!”
Her little body crashes into yours as you pull her into your arms. “Hi, my pretty girl. Did you have a good day?”
“Yes, mama. Dada, pick me up.”
“He did, didn’t he? Were you happy to see Daddy there?”
“Yes!”
You carry her to the door where Jack is standing. He closes the door behind you, “I’m glad you’re here. Was everything okay?”
“Yeah, he said it was just one of my spark plugs. He’s one of my dad’s friends, so he cut me a family discount,” you explain.
You set Nova down as she walks to go sit back on the carpet to play with her toys. Jack turns to face you and pulls your body into his. You slide your arms over his shoulder, where you play with the curls at the nape of his neck.
“Thank you for picking her up today,” you said softly.
“S’no problem, sweetheart. I’d do anything for either of you,” he responds, pulling your body flush to his. Jack leans down to press his lips against yours. Your lips move together as he slides his arms around your waist. The tips of his fingers toy with the edge of your dress.
He pulls back and stares into your eyes, “God, you’re so beautiful, baby.”
“You think so? I’m really feeling the silver hair, Jack.” You lower your voice, “It’s turning me on a lot.”
Jack closes his eyes as the words hit him somewhere deep.
“Let me take you out this weekend. Just you and me. We can ask Zara to babysit, or I can ask Robby. I think he’s dying for his opportunity to spoil Nova.”
You chuckle, “Yeah, I’ll see if Zara’s free.”
“Good, I can’t wait.”
With that, he ushers you into the kitchen and checks on the chicken nuggets. He looks up at you, “You hungry? I have some leftover pasta that I can heat up for you.”
“Yeah, I’d like that. Thank you.”
You briefly glance back at Nova, who has managed to slide onto the couch and is now actively watching Bluey with Bun Bun sitting next to her.
You turn back to face Jack, who moves effortlessly through the kitchen to warm up the leftovers for you. You subtly clench your thighs together at how natural he takes on the role of providing for you and Nova.
You can’t help the way that your eyes trail over Jack’s figure. You hadn’t been intimate with someone since finding out about being pregnant with Nova. Your trusty vibrator has been taking care of your needs for the year.
However, since being with Jack, your body has been becoming more alive. Whenever he’d touch you or kiss you, you found yourself dreaming about it for days.
It didn’t help the fact that he kept looking at you like he wanted to devour you.
You weren’t ashamed to admit that you’d made yourself cum more times than you could count, at the thought of having sex with Jack.
He was the first man that you actually wanted to experience this with.
You’re unaware that Jack had caught you staring. He smirks and leans over the counter, you see something you like, honey?”
“Yeah, he’s a doctor. 5’9. Silver hair. Great biceps, and he’s amazing with my kid. You know anyone like that?”
Jack laughs softly, “Yeah, honey, I think I’m familiar with him. He told me that he’s equally obsessed with you. You wanna hear another secret about him?”
You shake your head, and Jack beckons you forward. He drops his voice to a low whisper, “He really likes you, honey. A lot, and he spends every single minute at work thinking about you. The way that you smile. Your laugh. Those curls on your head. And then he tries to stop them, but then his thoughts become a lot less innocent when it comes to you. He starts to think about how soft your lips are and how sweet you taste when he kisses you. He starts to wonder how sweet you’d taste in other areas.”
Jack licks his lips, and you can see his hazel eyes growing darker, “He also thinks about how pretty you’d look when you’re cumming. He bets that your moans would be so pretty, and you’d flood his mouth. He really wants to make you feel good, sweetheart.”
Your breath hitches in your chest as you can feel how wet your panties are between your legs.
This man was going to be the death of you.
Jack smirks at seeing how flustered and turned on you look, “I guess we can leave a pin in that till Friday. Food’s ready.”
He casually plates pasta for you and slides it over to you while plating Nova’s nuggets for her. He calls the little girl over and places her in the seat next to you.
He slides glasses of tea over to both of you, specifically putting Nova’s in her sippy cup.
He watches you and Nova munch on your meals and smiles in satisfaction. You look up from eating your pasta and cover your mouth, “You’re not gonna eat?”
Feeling bold, Jack looks down at the fork in your hand, “You mind if I get some of your pasta?”
You catch the teasing tone of his voice and laugh softly. “You want me to feed it to you?”
“Please, I’d hate for us to dirty any extra dishes,” Jack reasons.
“We’d definitely hate for that to happen. Less dishes and all is better,” you conclude.
You stab the fork in the pasta, making sure to get a good bite for Jack. You lift the fork to his mouth, while Jack slides his lips over the food. He keeps his eyes on you the entire time.
Good Lord, this man was trying to kill you.
At the conclusion of the meal, you and Jack wash dishes together while Nova sits on the counter next to you. She giggles loudly as Jack splashes bubbles in her direction.
He wipes his hands off and pulls her into his arms, “You wanna go watch Bluey, kiddo?”
“Yes, Dada.” You, Jack, and Nova all settle together in the living room, while he puts it on Bluey. Jack pulls you to sit next to him while he throws an arm across your shoulder. Nova settles herself down in your lap, but throws her little legs on Jack’s lap.
She’d gotten to the point where she felt that she needed to maintain some form of physical contact with you and Jack. Jack plays with your curls while keeping a hand on Nova. Not surprisingly, she falls asleep with her head curled into your stomach. She has the bottom of Jack’s shirt curled between her fingers.
He looks down at her softly, “You know they gave me a badge today at the daycare? They put ‘Jack Abbot, Nova’s father.”
You glance at him, “Was that okay?”
“Yeah, more than. I told you, I’m all in when it comes to you and Nova. I know she’s not biologically mine, but she’s a part of me now. From the moment, she decided to pick me that night, she became my little girl. Seeing them put it down in print today just felt real, you know?”
The light from the TV allows you to see the way that his eyes glisten. He blinks and a tears trails down his eye before you cup his cheek to wipe it away.
You turn his face to yours, “It is real, Jack. Nova picked you for a reason that night. Even after the hospital, she picked you. You were meant to be her dad. There hasn’t been a moment where I’ve had to doubt how much you care about her.”
“I care about you too, honey.”
“I know you do, Jack. I’ve never had to doubt that either.”
Jack moves carefully to not wake Nova and presses his lips to yours. You smile, “I should get her home.” Jack nods, but there’s a huge part of him that wants to ask you to stay.
After he helps you strap Nova in, he hugs your body close to his. “Text me when you both make it home, okay?”
“I will.”
You both kiss one last time before he watches you drive out of his neighborhood.
About twenty minutes later, his phone buzzes with a text from you.
My Girl💕
We made it home safely. Nova’s all tucked in.
Jackie💗
Is mommy all tucked in too?
My Girl💕
*image attached*
I’m all tucked in🙂↔️
Jack looks at the picture that you’ve sent him and the way that shirt hangs from your frame. He thinks you look like the most beautiful woman in the world.
Jackie💗
You’re killing me sweetheart.😩
My Girl💕
That’s the plan.
Get some rest, Dr. Abbot. You have lives to save and I refuse to be the reason you can’t focus
Thank you again for picking Nova up today
Jackie💗
Anytime, sweetheart
…and for the record, you’re always on my mind 24/7, and you’re never a distraction.
Goodnight baby♥️
My Girl💕
Goodnight, Jack🥹♥️
It’s Thursday.
Jack takes another sip from the stale coffee as it slightly burns the tip of his tongue. He leans against the desk, alongside Shen and Ellis.
Shen takes another sip from his Dunkin’ coffee, to which Jack gags in distain. “That thing can’t be healthy for you, John. It’s nothing but sugar.”
Shen rolls his eyes teasingly while taking another drag out of the straw, “Calm down, Jack. It’s good for my soul.”
Ellis chuckle from one of the computers as she finishes charting her note. They all revel in the calmness of the night as they all refuse to say the forbidden “Q-word” on shift. Though Jack thinks they’re just being superstitious, he definitely doesn’t want to test luck and say it either.
He feels his phone buzzing from his phone and he slides it from his scrub pants. There’s a message from you.
My Girl💕
Hey..so I know you may be busy, so feel free to ignore this if you are, but Nova had a really bad nightmare, and she’s crying a lot and asking for you. I told her that you’re at work, which only seemed to make her more upset. But if you’re free, could you give her a call?🫠
Jack frowns at his phone, which Ellis catches.
“Everything okay, boss?”
“Yeah, I’m gonna go make a call right now. My daughter just had a bad dream. You mind covering if anything comes up?”
Shen and Ellis both nod.
“We got it. Go check on your little girl,” Shen started, ushering his to the door. Little does Jack know, they all watch him as he walks out and lifts the phone to his ear.
Shen takes another sip of his coffee, “Ugh, it’s so cute seeing him like this. How long before he adopts her?”
“I’d give it about a year,” Ellis replies.
Outside in the ambulance bay, Jack navigates to a quiet corner and starts FaceTiming you. You pick up after the first ring, and Jack immediately notices the distressed look on your face.
“I’m sorry if you’re busy, Jack. She was really scared when I came into her room,” You said, rocking Nova in your arms.
She quietly cries into your chest. Jack feels his heart breaking at seeing his baby so scared.
“Baby, you don’t have to apologize. I’m never too busy for you or Nova. Call anytime,” Jack states, to which you nod.
You look down, “Nova…your daddy’s on the phone, lovebug.”
You hold the phone to her face so that she can see Jack. She pouts into the camera and her lip quivers, “Dada…”
“Hey, babygirl, what’s wrong? You had a bad dream?”
“Mhmm Dada, it was scary. Monster and Dada was gone,” Nova explains, her voice still shaky with tears.
“S’okay, baby. Daddy gets bad dreams too, but I’m not going anywhere. I’ll always be right here to protect you okay?”
“Otay, Dada.” Nova said softly. Shen walks outside and catches the tail end of the conversation.
“Hey,” He calls out to Jack.
The other man turns to look at him, expecting to hear him say that there’s an incoming emergency.
“Why don’t you go ahead and take the rest of the night off? Go be with your kid. I know how scary it was for my kids when they get them, and it sounds like she needs you a lot,” Shen suggests, rocking lightly on his heels.
Jack is about to open his mouth to protest when Shen shakes his head, “It’s a dead zone tonight, Jack. Go home, we can hold down the fort until you get back.”
“Thanks, man.”
“Don’t mention it.” With that, Shen walks back inside the Pitt.
Jack looks back at his phone, “Nova, Daddy’s on his way over to be with you, okay sweetheart? I’ll be right there in a little bit.”
“Otay, Dada. Love you.”
“I love you too, baby,” Jack responds, just as you point the phone back to yourself.
“We’ll see you in a little bit. Please drive carefully, okay?” He can see the worry present in your eyes.
“I will, baby. I’ll be there soon.”
He ends the call and walks back in the hospital to go to his locker and grabs his backpack. He clocks out and is about to stop by the desk when everyone waves him off.
The drive to your apartment isn’t long. He takes the elevator up to your floor as he comes to stand in front of you door. He knocks lightly and hear the soft pitter patter of your feet as you open the door.
The large t-shirt covers your frame, along with the satin bonnet that contains your curls. Similarly to you, Nova wears a big t-shirt, a pull-up, and a small bonnet.
Upon seeing Jack, she immediately reaches out for him. Jack pulls her into his arms and she curls into his chest.
He kisses her covered hair and whispers in her ear, “It’s okay, babygirl. Daddy’s right here.” He starts rocking her in his arms and cooing at her softly.
You close the door behind Jack, as you take his backpack from his shoulder. He follows you into your bedroom, where you’ve set up Nova’s night light that illuminates stars across the room.
Toeing off his shoes, Jack stands in the middle of the room as Nova keeps his face buried in his neck.
You walk into the bedroom and stand in front of Jack, “Thank you for coming.”
“Anytime,” Jack affirms, leaning down to kiss you.
The three of you climb into your bed as Jack settles Nova into his arms. He gently pats her back as she sleepily gazes up and you and Jack.
“We’re right here, lovebug. We’re not going anywhere,” You tell her. You grab the stuffed rabbit from the side, “Look, Bun Bun’s even here.”
“Sleep in here, mama?” Nova asks.
“Yeah, lovebug, you can sleep in here tonight. Do you want us to read you a story?” She nods, while tucking Bun Bun beneath her arm.
You get up from the bed and go to the bookcase to grab, “Goodnight Moon.” You slide beneath the covers as you and Jack take turns reading the pages to Nova.
As the story continues, she blinks slower and slower until her breath finally evens out and her lashes flutter against her cheek.
Jack is gentle with setting her down between the two of you. He sticks Bun Bun beneath her arm before leaning down to kiss her cheek.
“Night, baby, Daddy loves you.”
He finds you staring at him when he looks up.
“You’re an amazing man, Jack.”
“Thank you. You’re an amazing mom.”
“Thank you,” you respond.
He stands from the bed and goes to grab his bag until you place a hand on his arm. “You don’t have to go, you can stay. Besides, it’s really late and I don’t feel comfortable with you driving back.”
Jack laughs softly, “S’okay, sweetheart. I’m usually driving back this late anyways.”
You shake your head and move to stand closer, “I want you to stay, Jack.” He looks at the definitive look in your eye and knows that he could never tell you no.
“Okay, I’ll stay. Do you want me on the couch?”
It’s your turn to laugh. “No, I want you in the bed with us. You’re more than welcome to go change in the bathroom.”
Jack suddenly becomes hyperaware of his prosthetic in the moment. He shifts on his feet and looks down for a second. You obviously catch the sudden mood shift.
“Is something wrong?”
“Yeah…it’s just..uh..I have a prosthetic. It’s from a long time ago when I was in the army. There was an accident but we don’t have to get into all of that. I should have mentioned it sooner, but if you’re not comfortable—“
You hold a hand up, “That doesn’t bother me, Jack. Prosthetic or not, you’re still you. You’re still Nova’s dad and you’re still the man that I’m falling for. However, I can make you feel more comfortable, just let me know.”
For a moment, Jack just stares at you. You can see his eyes softening even in the dimness of the room. He brings a hand up to cup your face, “Thank you, baby. Really, you don’t know how much it means to hear you say that.”
Jack’s been out of the dating scene for a while. He hasn’t had to have the conversation about his leg because the last woman who knew about it was his ex-wife. He’d always thought about if he started to date again, and how he would approach the conversation with his partner.
There was always this slight inkling of insecurity and fear or being rejected or pitied. But here in this moment, you hadn’t made him feel like either those things. He didn’t feel less than.
You made him feel whole.
“I’ll just go change in the bathroom and then I’ll take it off when I come back,” he explains.
You nod, “Okay, take your time. Feel free to use whatever you need.”
You walk back over to the bed and slide in beside Nova. Jack makes his way into the bathroom and changes into his spare t-shirt and boxers. He washes his face and brushes his teeth with one of your spare toothbrushes. He folds his scrubs neatly into his bag before walking back out into the bedroom.
You sit up upon seeing him and smile gently. He sits on the edge of the bed and starts the process of taking off his prosthetic.
You stand from the bed and enter the bathroom. You emerge with a warm towel in your hand and kneel to apply the clothe to the residual limb. You throw the towel into the dirty basket before walking back over to massage his leg.
Jack is about to stop you until he lets out a deep groan when you hit one of the spots that’s been aching.
You glance at him, “My grandfather was a veteran. He served in Vietnam. Lost his leg up to his knee. My cousins and I would take turns helping him with stuff like this when we stayed with him during the summer.”
Jack sighs in relief at the feel of your hands on him. After ten minutes, you finish your massage and you stand up in front of him. Jack pulls your face down to his as he claims your lips to his. You both kiss for a solid minute before you pull back.
Jack’s lips ghost against yours, “Thank you.”
“Anytime, handsome.”
You walk over to the other side of the bed just as Jack slides beneath the covers. Once you’re both settled, you stare at each other through the soft light from the night light.
You close your eyes and Jack can hear your breath even out. Soon, the sleepiness begins to tug at his own eyes.
He looks over you and Nova one last time.
Yeah, he’s definitely the luckiest guy in the world.
“you know all the words to ”just like heaven” and I know why he wrote them now that you’re standing right here.”
summary - in which reader has had a crush on jack abbot since her first day. she’s been working at the PTMC for a year. she’s accepted the fact that nothing between her and jack will ever happen, but what if something does happen?
content warnings - black!fem!reader, but anyone can read it ofc!, reader is a nurse, age gap, cursing, suggestiveness, crack, fluff, angst?
not realizing you’re talking to your ex-boyfriend!sukuna while drunk !
you were way too drunk and the sigma chi house was spinning.
the music thumped through the walls and your head felt light and fuzzy, but you were smiling anyway, red cup dangling from your fingers as you leaned against the wall for balance. your friends had disappeared ages ago and you didn’t really mind.
that’s when you saw him.
tall. pink hair. tattoos crawling up his arms. he looked really familiar but your drunk brain couldn’t connect the dots. you just knew he was stupidly hot standing there by the stairs with his arms crossed.
you stumbled over with a bright smile.
“hi,” you said, voice soft and sweet. “you have the prettiest eyes. like… scary pretty.”
sukuna looked down at you and his eyebrow raised, but he didn’t move away. the corner of his mouth twitched like he was trying not to smile.
“yeah?” he asked, voice low.
you nodded, stepping closer until you were leaning into his space. he smelled so good. warm and a little sweet, just like someone you used to know.
“mhm. my ex had eyes like yours,” you mumbled, resting your forehead against his arm because the room wouldn’t stop tilting. “he was mean looking but really nice to me. i miss him a lot actually.”
sukuna stayed quiet, one big hand coming up to steady you by the waist so you wouldn’t fall.
you kept talking, words spilling out easily now that someone was listening.
“we broke up because i thought he didn’t care enough but… he used to do the sweetest things. like bringing me coffee before class or letting me play with his hair even when he acted all tough about it.” you sighed softly. “i think i messed up. i still wear his hoodie to sleep sometimes.”
his grip on your waist tightened just a little.
“you’re drunk,” he murmured.
“super drunk,” you agreed with a little laugh, tilting your head up to look at him again. “but i mean it. he was the best. made me feel safe even when he was quiet and scary. you kinda look like him, it’s weird.”
sukuna let out a quiet breath that sounded almost like a laugh. he guided you through the crowd with a hand on your lower back, taking you upstairs without saying much. you didn’t even question it. his room felt familiar but everything was blurry.
he sat you on the edge of his bed and grabbed a bottle of water, crouching down in front of you so you could drink it. his hand rested gently on your knee the whole time.
“you’re really nice,” you whispered, eyes half closed. “my ex was nice like this too. when nobody else was looking.”
he didn’t answer right away. just brushed some hair out of your face with careful fingers and helped you lie down. when you reached out and grabbed his hand he paused.
“stay?” you asked softly.
sukuna sighed, but it was the soft kind. he sat on the edge of the bed and let you keep holding his hand, thumb rubbing slow circles over your knuckles while you drifted off.
“yeah,” he said quietly, watching you fall asleep in his bed again. “i’m not going anywhere.”
synopsishi again(im gonna be so annoying with this). i had some voices whisper into my ear about a shared tattoo with jack abbott and wife(pediatrics doctor?) reader? reader and jack having two tattoos. one that everyone would see and the other where only the two of them would. and what if, their marriage is like not known to everyone except for Robby and Dana(?hehehe) request!
warningstattoo talk? general hospital stuff, language, making out, smut-ish
authornotein honour of tom holland and zendaya coming back to screen soon i dedicate the tattoo's to them. i had soooo much fun writing this, i can't believe i'm slowly moving into being a jack girlie. ignore the fact that Jack is for some reason in day shift. this one's for @expreissionism
My Pitt masterlist. other Jack fic!
The first time the Pittlings made the connection they thought nothing of it. Some ink swirled around the skin of two doctors wasn't anything, many of them had tattoos themselves.
Doctor McKay had the sort she got in collage and regretted, Robby had one or two that meant something to him, that he'd find himself tracing in times of despair. Doctor Santos had lost count of how many she had and what they all meant.
Javadi herself was pretty terrified at the idea of putting a sharp needle to skin. She was afraid of the permanence of it. The pain.
And her mother finding out.
That was until she spotted yours.
“You have a tattoo,” she noted standing behind you, paying close attention to how you examined the boy in front of you.
You nodded like you weren't trying to listen close down your stethoscope as you asked the boy to breathe in, listening at his back. “I do.”
“That's... really cool,” she said.
You smiled, small. “Thank you.”
Javadi watched your wrist move and arm flex as you put the stethoscope back around your neck, holding onto it either end. She'd called you down for a pedes case but was finding herself distracted by the beauty of the ink on you.
There were hard strokes of black and lighter ones, all drawn around in swirls that came together to make a sun. She thought it looked like the sun from tangled- one of her favourite movies. But you were a grown woman. Maybe you liked the movie as much as she did.
Javadi shook off the idea as you stood, telling the parents what you found. A small crackle in his breathing but as he'd been down with a flu and fever it might not mean anything terrible. Kept for observation and some blood work was ordered before the two of you were slipping away.
“What does it mean?” asked Victoria, hot on your heels as you walked to the nurses station. “The-the sun, I mean? Not crackles in the chest, I-I know that.”
You chuckled, tapping in to chart. Although you worked floors above on the pedes ward, your vintage disney top under the lab coat representing that, you were down enough on emergency and trauma cases to be a familiar and welcome face.
“Oh, you know,” you said, balancing your elbow on the table and checking on the ink. Your lips quirked at looking at it. “Just a little sun, for brightness and stuff.”
Javadi thought it was fitting. You were a sunshine person, hopeful and kind, like a ray of light in the depths of hell she called the ED. She supposed it came with the job, having to be the hope for the sick children.
Everyone down the Pitt could afford to be miserable, with a good enough excuse in working in the emergency department. You were with kids, helping them and their parents through anything minor to the worst days of their lives.
“Kinda, look to the light, kinda thing?” Victoria asked.
You slowly glanced up at her, finding a new perspective. “Yeah. I like that take.”
“Well, well, well,” said a hoarse voice coming closer to the two of you.
Beyond Javadi you looked past her.
Jack Abbot casually strolled over, hands behind his back, arms pulled in tight muscles and freckles in his dark scrubs. “You know, you're down here so often anyone would think you're after a Pedes attending job.”
You rose a brow, challenging him. “Are you offering?”
“Oh yeah, anything to keep sunshine down here.”
You rolled your eyes playfully, leaving Javadi to look between the two of you. She hadn’t realised the two of you knew each other so well.
Sure, you were the first everyone went to for a pedes case but how often was that?
“Sunshine! That’s funny,” said Javadi, standing between the two of you
Jack rose a brow. “It is?”
“Yeah- yeah,” she said with a clear of her throat. “Cause’- she has a sunshine tattoo.”
Jacks lips quirked up to a smirk. “Really?”
You leaned over the counter, chin resting in the palm of your hand. “Yeah. Got it some time ago.”
“Is it somewhere PG-13?” He asked.
“Well to know that you’d have to buy me a drink first.”
“I plan to.”
The two of you shared a smirk.
Suddenly, Victoria thought she was stuck in the middle of something.
It was Whitaker who discovered it next.
He was working with Abbot and Shen on a patient in trauma one, still waiting for the feeling in his feet to return to him after a twelve hour shift. But he wanted to see this patient through first, even if he could have left now the night crawlers had swept in.
He was shooting an x-ray for the guy in a car crash, checking his ribs after being found pressed up against his steering wheel.
Somewhere else you were stitching up his young daughter.
“The car came from nowhere,” fretted the patient, wincing with every breath. “I swear- I swear!”
“Don’t you worry, sir, we’re gonna get you sorted,” assured Jack, peeling off his jacket and replacing it with a vest.
“Is my- is my daughter okay?”
“She just needed a couple stitches,” said Denis.
Jack stretched up, moving the x-ray machine over the patient. “Don’t worry, your daughter is in the best hands. They lumped you with the second best, I’m afraid.”
The patient gave a huff of a laugh that evidently hurt more than anything.
“Okay… shooting!”
Everyone without a vest backed away.
It was at that moment as Jack hovered shooting the x-ray that Whitaker got his first glance at some ink peeking out from his wrist. His watch hid most of what Denis could make out as a tattoo but he thought it strange that Robby should have his own tattoo also typically hidden behind his watch.
Robby and Jack always called themselves brothers, from their years of friendship and shared experiences in the Pitt.
He just hadn’t realised they were that close.
The x ray was quickly done and the machine pushed away as everyone focused on stabilising the man.
A couple broken ribs, a severely bruised chest.
An OR was free to check on any internal bleeding, get the chest sorted.
The doors pushed open and you walked in, a maybe eight years old propped on your hip, little arms hugging around your neck.
Jack’s lips tilted up at once. “Second visit in one day, upstairs must be boring.”
“Well we do like to call this place the circus,” you teased. “This is Mr Peters daughter, she wanted to check in on her daddy.”
Jack tugged off his gloves and Whitaker watched as he approached you and the little girl. “Your daddy is doing fine, he’s strong. I reckon just as strong as you. He’s gonna go upstairs for a closer look but you can go with him, if you like?”
The girl hid her head closer into your shoulder, mumbling something that Whitaker could just about make out.
“Will you come up with me?” She’d asked you.
You bounced her gently. “Course. Upstairs is where all the fun is anyway.”
Jack hummed. “Hm. She has the best candy too.”
Whitaker watched the young girls eyes light up.
As a team from surgery came to drag the father away you followed behind with the daughter in arms, Abbot and Whitaker following out and taking a moment to watch the crowd dissapear.
“Did good in there, Whitaker,” said Abbot, the both of them tearing off their gowns and gloves.
“Thanks,” he said. The both of them went separate ways. Oddly enough, Jack was following in the steps of the team that took up the man and his daughter.
Doctor Robby wondered over, sliding into his seat. If even one of his day shift was left, so was he. It was his own morale code to not go till everyone on day had, Denis was learning.
“Hey,” greeted Denis. “You know I had no idea you and Abbot had matching tattoos.”
“Huh, yeah...” said Robby of absent-mind as he watched the computer. It took him a second to register what he was saying and look up. “Wait, what did you say?”
Suddenly Whitaker felt like he'd said the wrong thing, seeing his attending look over his glasses at him. Maybe nobody was supposed to know? Maybe it was super personal? Or it was a stupid drunk choice they were both trying to forget and he'd just brought it up.
“Oh god, I didn't, I'm sorry, I shouldn't have-”
Robby scratched at his beard. “Jack and I do not have matching tattoos.”
“Oh.”
“What made you think that?” he asked. “Did someone... say something?” there was something akin to mischief in his eyes, alight.
“No! No! I just- I saw something that looked like a tattoo under where he keeps his watch, and I know you have one there too. Or- well- don't know but I've- I've seen-”
“Yeah, yeah I've got one there,” said Robby, looking back to the computer bored. “So does Jack. His is a moon. Mine's something to do with my grandmother.”
“A moon? Oh.”
Somewhere beyond Whitaker, past his shoulders, Victoria passed by, catching the conversation.
A moon on one. A sun on another. Interesting.
Samira was only looking for her patient when she found a shirtless Jack Abbot hiding behind the curtain with you standing behind him.
Both your heads shot up when the whirl of the curtain pulled back.
“Oh. I'm sorry,” said Samira. She was only momentarily shocked at Jack shirtless, SWAT gear discarded in the corner and the typical pedes case worker standing behind him, working on a bad obviously over eighteen.
Jack tried to shrug his shoulders but came away wincing. “S'alright.”
“Have you guys seen my patient?” she asked, going on to describe him.
“No, sorry. This room was empty,” you said, rolling a q-tip along Jack's shoulder blade. “Anything you need help with?”
Samira deflated, taking a seat on the chair in the corner of the room. She was feeling sorry for the patient she couldn't get to in time she didn't realise the look you and Jack shared, one of mutual agreement of apprehension.
“What happened to you?” Samira asked.
“He got shot,” you said.
“You were shot?”
Jack made a 'pfft' noise at the two of you. “Shot at. It was nothing. Hardly a graze.”
You scoffed, reaching over for some bandage and applying it to the wound. “I'll be the judge of that.”
“You my doctor now?” asked Jack.
You bit back a smirk. “Someone has to be.”
Samira had worked with Abbot a handful of times, you maybe more on cases with children that required delicate matters. She never realised the two of you were close enough to tease. Close enough that you would be the first person he runs to for help.
Curious, Samira walked around Jack, standing on the other side of his bed as you showed her the wound.
“Oh. Ouch.”
“See?” you said with a raise of your brows.
Jack's freckled arms crossed over his chest in protest.
“You have a chart?” asked Mohan.
“No,” you said. “We're keeping this off the chart.”
Samira nodded, lips quirking. We?
“Don't need the paperwork from the hospital,” said Jack. “Got big plans tonight, can't have paperwork getting in the way.”
“Big plans?” asked Mohan.
Jack hummed in affirmation.
With your careful bandages around his shoulder he stood and reached for his shirt on the side.
It wasn't just a quick glimpse Samira got of where another tattoo lied. It was a long look as Jack made work at pulling over his navy shirt overhead. At the ache in his shoulder you helped pull it over him and he didn't object, he let you help him like it was natural.
But just under his armpit, on the side of his chest there was a clear stroke of black ink in the curves and strikes of a letter. Just one simple there, no bigger than a finger nail next to his heart.
“All good to go solider,” you said, rubbing his un-injured shoulder.
“Thank you, Doc.”
You smirked. “Don't go straining yourself this evening.”
Jack chuckled, low in his throat. “I make no promises.”
It was only when watching the two of you leave that the hole in her heart for her own devoid love life sung with something other that sorrow. With hope and joy. It was only when she noticed Jack's hand linger on the small of your back as he leaned into say something to you that she realised the slope of the letter at his chest matched the very first letter of your name.
A week later and slowly Samira was forgetting the whole thing. Not forgetting the patient that had ran out on her but forgetting the state she found Jack in, forgetting how you helped him and the letter etched into his skin.
She hadn't told anyone either, because what business of others was it.
It wasn't even hers.
Maybe Jack knew someone in the army had the same initial as you. Maybe it was his mothers name. It didn't have to be yours. It was only seeing him shirtless, seeing you with him that had her thinking of you, she was sure.
But a week later she was brought back to that room.
“Woah- what happened to you?” Robby chuckled as you walked through the ED, a mixture of bodily fluids over your scrubs.
“Emergency c-section, twins,” you said. “I had no time for a gown.”
Robby's smile creased as you squelched closer. Your blue scrubs, typically a baby blue, was dyed darker due to blood, amniotic fluids and what he guessed might have been urine. “They didn't call OB?”
“OB was busy, apparently.”
“Apparently?” he asked, tablet in hand as he followed next to you as you walked to the scrub bin. You walked, arms slightly raised to not let them drop. Robby walked close but not close enough to touch the mess of you.
“Someone in OB has it out me.”
“Evil ex?”
“Yeah, one of yours,” you teased.
“Ouch.”
“I'm cranky.”
“I can tell.”
Santos and Samira were on a case together but stopped when they got a look at you. “Woah, what happened? A pile up?”
“Don't ask,” you grumbled.
From behind you Robby mouthed 'twins' and both knew not to say anymore.
“You know we have gowns for such messy procedures,” said Trinity.
You flashed her a grimace. “You're funny, Santos, must get it from this guy,” you said, slapping Robby in the chest as you stood in front of the scrub bins. However, as an official upstairs pedes resident you didn't have authority for more scrubs. “Is Jack around?”
“No,” said Robby, tapping his own ID cared on the pad and getting you an order of scrubs.
“Thanks.”
Samira wondered, briefly why you asked for Jack when it was probably easier to find some woman for your size. Like herself, for instance.
But in seconds you were pulling off your scrub top, leaving you only in a bra. Your scrub pants were next but you had a thin pair of leggings underneath. No one batted an eyes, except maybe Robby who cleared his throat and turned away, hypothetically hiding you behind his back.
“Thanks again, Robby,” you said, gaining his new scrubs.
“No problem,” he said, leaning over to you. “But you can bring this up to Jack,” he added in a mummer that Mohan just caught.
As you reached up, pulling the scrub top over you Samira caught it again. It was a smaller trace, a think line but there with no doubt.
A simple J in black ink in almost the exact spot as Jack had one of his own.
“Is that-” Mohan didn't get the words out before your scrub top was pulled over, swallowing you from Robby's scrub.
Robby and you looked to her as you pulled on the pants. “What?”
They were all looking at her, expectantly.
“No, nothing, it was nothing.”
“Okay, then.”
But now there was a knowing in there. That she didn't believe in coincidences, not when they were etched into skin.
“You look lovely.” Jack crept up behind you, his voice falling upon your ears with his head quick over your shoulder. He was like hot breath on a glass, there and gone the next second.
You understood why. Knew it had been easier to keep it quiet when things were fresh, yet, things had moved on from new and simple a long time ago and neither of you made to say it. Did you get a banner? Make a public announcement? You had no idea how to do it.
Keeping it on the low was all you knew how to do.
And anyhow, it made things far more exciting.
“Thank you,” you said, passing him a quick smile.
Jack hummed, crowding next to you at the station, leaning an arm on the counter and looking you up and down. “You'd look even better in scrubs that were mine.”
Your eyes rolled. “They're Robby's-”
“Robby's-” he scoffed, shaking his head.
“I had a messy C-section and it was this or several bodily fluids.”
“I'd have rather bodily fluids,” he said.
You hummed. “You think that but then you see me and you'd think different.”
“Oh, yeah?”
You turned your attention onto him, knowing he wouldn't give it up till he had it all. It was something about Jack and un-divided attention, he thrived on it. Giving it to you, or taking it from you. He needed it like sustenance. “Think wet. Think baby fluids that should be in a body on me. Think blood. And probably puke on there somewhere too- I don't even know how.”
“And I bet you still looked beautiful,” he said.
“I wouldn't be so sure about that,” you chuckled.
“I would.”
His hand crept up to your ribs, holding there. As if he was anaesthetic himself, his touch was soothing.
He held over where your initial of his name was, just as you did with him where yours was. It still felt fresh though the ink was imbedded into skin for almost a year now.
It was the soft knowledge of carrying each other closer than you already did. Working in the same building wasn't enough, falling asleep next to each and waking up next to each other wasn't enough but the soft initial of each others name might just have been.
Even if it weren't romantical (which it certainly was) the two of you had at least always respected each other in the work setting. It was a bond running deeper than blood, than respect, than love.
Something the people hadn't come up with a word for yet.
Robby passed by the two of them. “I thought you two were being discreet.”
“We are,” you said, you and Jack turning to face Robby as he took his space behind the nurses desk.
“He's all but holding your breast,” said Robby.
“Physical exam,” Jack shrugged. “And I thought I told you to stop making moves on my woman.”
Robby held up his hands in surrender. “I don't want any funny business in my scrubs,” he warned, s sharp look past his glasses at the two of you.
Jack quirked his lips, pretending his innocence. “We'll change into mine.”
You smacked his shoulder.
“Hey,” said Robby, leaning on the counter next to you as if you were all gossiping nurses and not different attendings in your own rights. “You know, Whitaker thinks we have matching tattoos,” he said, nodding to Jack.
You laughed, tilting your head down.
“Oh yeah, I have an R over my heart,” he teased.
Robby scoffed. “Yeah and I got a J on my-”
You looked pointed at them both. “Don't you have jobs to get to?”
Robby surrendered and headed off, making himself busy.
Upstairs would need you soon enough too, there was only so much time you could leave your pedes ward alone. Your hands were gentle on Jacks, squeezing lightly.
Meaning to let go, Jack squeezed and pulled you back.
“Jack? Woah- what- where are we going?”
His thumb worked up and down the back of your hand as he dragged you off. He found an empty room, checking the room before closing the door and pulling the curtains around.
“Jack!”
His hands found their ways up Robby's shirt on your body, pulling at the skin of your waist and drawing you in till he was kissing you, open-mouthed. It was as if he hadn't kissed you that morning, hadn't stole a make out in the car before heading in, hadn't text you in his spare five minutes that he wasn't thinking about you.
He grinned into the kiss, licking into your mouth.
As bad as it was, stealing a kiss in an empty exam room, your hands wound up to his hair, tugging at the strands. Your body curled into his as his hands moved from under your shirt to over, pulling at it.
“Take this off.”
Biting back a smirk you pulled it off you as Jack leant down to kiss at your neck. He bit and sucked, dedicating time to one mark that would be a tattoo on your neck.
Jack was obsessed with marking you, considering you tried you best to be secret.
This wasn't very secret.
“Jack,” you moaned, own hands clawing at his shirt.
He pulled back long enough to toss his off. “When we're done here... when I've made you come on my fingers,” he uttered next to your ear, breath hot. “You're gonna put my scrub top on, you understand?”
Your lips pursed and nodded.
Jack pulled back enough, lips ghosting yours. “Yeah, baby?”
“Yeah,” you whined.
“Yeah.”
His lips crashed into yours again with fire like need. Hie entire body moved over yours, hands steady on your hips to bring you in. You were stumbling around the room, trying to find a wall or bed.
“God,” Jack whined at your lips. “I could eat you.”
He kissed down your neck, over your chest and leant to press a kiss over his initial. He'd been there when you'd gotten it done, as you had when he got his. The two letters in each others hand writing.
Jack came back up and kissed you again before the door sprung open.
“Room three's open why's nobody-”
Jack jumped in front of you like jumping in front of a bullet for you, his arms fell on either side of you, caging you in behind him.
A woman was sat on a gurney, eyes wide at the two of you.
Dana was leading the charge, Mohan, Whitaker and Santos following and eyes falling wide, jaws agape at the sight of you.
Robby walked past, shaking his head and- taking one look at Jack- decided it wasn't a HR nightmare he could deal with.
“We were just...” said Jack, hesitating. “Doing a physical.”
Dana smirked. “I'll say.”
“Sorry, we'll just-” you apologised.
The two of you fumbled with scrub tops but Jack still found enough time in the mess to pass you his own scrub top and take Robby's himself. In sheepish moves the two of you moved by the group, catching only a couple words.
“Did you see those tattoo's?” said Samira.
“Each others inititals, right?”
“How longs this been going on for?”
Jack threw his arm over your shoulder, bringing you in close and peppering a kiss to your forehead. “Guess we told them, huh?”
synopsisyou and Trinity decide you've had enough of being the casual booty call, agreeing to play hard to get to prove to your partners you can go without them. easier said then done
warningsmut. oral (f! receiving) fingering, language, pinv, unprotected sex, MDNI. slight praise kink. no use of y/n
authornotethe way in which i need to be driven mad by this man using me is concerning to feminism
main masterlist. other Robby fic
“I don't get it!” said Santos for... well, you had no idea how many times she'd repeated herself but you were considering making it a drinking game. Every time she said she 'didn't understand' you resolved to take a shot. “I thought we were fine, doing great and casual- what- what is casual?”
Whitaker's hand hesitated in the air like they were in class. “Well I think by casual she means-”
“I know what casual means, Fuckle-berry,” said Santos quickly. “But it was casual now it's just weird.”
You nodded along, humming.
She groaned, hands running through her hair in frustration. “I don't get it!”
You took a long gulp of your wine.
“How do you handle it?” Trinity asked, arms wide in question at you.
“Me?”
“Yeah, how do you and Robby do casual?”
“Oh- we... it's- um-” you stumbled over your words, hoping that if you let it up long enough she'd take it back and start on her problems again. She didn't and she stood in front of you and Whitaker, waiting for an explanation.
The whole thing between you and Robby had started about the same time Santos and Garcia started. In an awkward confrontation that was you and Trinity bumping into each other in your shared bathroom, both your hairs messed up and both supporting bruises suspiciously in the shape of lips on your necks.
When you returned to your room you and Robby waited eagerly to see who would flee Santos's room. Neither too shocked to find Garcia.
“It's um?” Trinity asked.
“It's going,” you said into your wine glass, finishing it and pouring in more. The truth was for a while things had been odd, on your end more so.
Casual was a label you thought you could do, that when Robby said to you a week after sleeping together, his sheets over the both of your bodies that he liked keeping it simple. Sex. Release. You thought you could do it.
Almost three months since then and you were regretting it because every time you saw doctors eyes lingering over Robby, every time you heard his 'seven-week rule' and every time you saw happy couples fawning over each other in the ED your stomach twisted.
You didn't realise you wanted that until it was dangled in front of you and snatched away all in the same minute.
Trinity's brows rose. “Oh?”
You looked to where Whitaker was next to you, hoping for sympathy. You only found curious eyes. “It's just different than before.”
“Different how?” asked Dennis.
“Is it still casual?”
You scoffed, mumbling under your breath. “Yeah to him.”
“You want to be more?”
You didn't know if she was accusing but your room-mates expecting eyes on you heated your body in shame and embarrassment. “And you don't with Garcia?"
“Ok, enough!” suddenly Whitaker stood up. “The two of you, we need to sort this out.”
With a vacant seat next to you Trinity plopped herself down and you gave her your wine. You just decided to take the bottle.
“I cannot stand it anymore, okay! The two of you, we're gonna change this,” he said. “Trin- no more pining and waiting for Garcia to call at like one am.”
She was wanting to retort but only folded her arms over her chest as he carried on.
“And you-” he focused on you. “Need to stop crying over Robby. You guys can do better.”
“Yeah in a world where we're not working twelve hour shifts five days a week,” you said. The idea of casual hook ups wasn't anything new to the ED, not even the hospital. It was easy way of escape without the pressure of dating when all their time was spent saving lives or charting about saving lives or studying how to save lives.
On the coffee table in front of you Trinity's phone pinged and she reached for it like it was seconds away from self-destructing.
She tucked her phone into her chest to read the text before slamming it back down.
You caught a glance at the words and the contact. Can't make it tonight, I'll hit you up tomorrow- G
“You're gonna leave them,” he said.
You and Trinity sat up. “What?”
“No!”
There was a flicker of fear in his eyes.
“Okay- I take it back,” he said, surrendering. “Then how about give them a taste of their own medicine.”
“Their medicine?” you asked.
Whitaker gently nudged the empty glasses and cans of beer aside, perching on the edge of the coffee table, appealing to the two of you. “How many times have they cancelled plans, or said you couldn't come over to ask you to come over two hours later?”
You hadn't realised how perceptive he was.
“Now, make it so you guys call the shots. They want to come round, you say no.”
The idea was new to you. You'd always wanted Robby. You spent half your spare time wanting him and the other half having sex with him. You'd never even wanted to say no.
“So then we what, don't have sex?” asked Santos.
“You will,” he said. “You create distance, get them wanting and crying or what-whatever and then they'll realise they've messed up.”
You thought we was giving them too much credit.
Santos chuckled. “Huckleberry, are you telling us to play hard to get?”
He thought about it, eyes moving as if he was calculating it. “Yes!”
That's how plan 'hard to get' started. It was agreed you and Santos, the next time Garcia and Robby asked you to come over you'd say no.
Easier in practise when you work with them.
The next day was a slower day, un-usual in that sense. It meant everyone had more time to linger around each other.
“And so I said to him- officer-” said Myrna, lying on the bed between you and Robby. She'd seizure, hurt her leg and needed it disinfected and cleaned- not for the first time in her life. There was a mix of glass and gravel that needed plucking out and apparently the attending of the ED had nothing better to do that join you in the task. “What would you have done if you caught your third husband eating out another woman?”
“And did he say shoot him?” asked Robby. He was bent over the same leg as you, your heads so close you were either gonna head butt or kiss. Not likely over the state of her leg.
“No, he didn't say anything, he just arrested me!”
Robby hummed, his glasses sliding down the bridge of his nose. “Imagine that.”
“You know Myrna sometimes I can't tell if all these stories are true,” you said, taking a small bit of glass and adding it to the pile you'd already created.
“Oh they're all true, honey, I never lie. Unlike Mark that two faced bastard.”
“Which one was Mark?” you asked.
“The fourth husband. Good body and shit everything else!” she said with a wheeze. Abruptly she grabbed your hand. “Are you single?”
Robby glanced up at you, creases of amusement at the corner of his eyes.
You looked away first. “Why, you asking me out?”
“If you're single, stay single!” she said. “Men, all they are are liars! Lying bastards! And babies! I hardly even shot the guy!”
“Am I so bad, Doctor?” asked Robby looking over the frames of his glasses at you.
Was he so bad? No. He was short-tempered sometimes, moody, didn't accept help from anyone. But you knew he could be gentle, you knew his true belly laugh and the smile he gave at mornings when you were still in bed. You just wish you knew if he ever saw himself staying in that bed a little longer, if he ever wanted to make breakfast and take the day together, stealing moments throughout.
“No,” you said, looking back down to her leg that was almost clean. “You're not.”
Myrna was oddly silent but you could see her head moving between the two of you. “Don't go there sweetheart,” she said, a word of warning. “This one might look fun but he's all danger and heartbreak.”
“Me? No,” said Robby with an air of un-care. “I'm a teddy bear.”
Five minutes later you and Robby were instructing Perlah wrapping her leg before throwing off your gloves and leaving her to it.
“How many husbands you think Myrna had?” he asked.
“Oh there's no telling,” you replied, fetching her chart to finish off the notes. At some point someone had put a star next to her name, as if she was VIP.
Robby leant next to you, scanning around the ED. “Any plans tonight?”
“On a Wednesday? Nop.”
“Wanna come over?”
There was an abrupt and loud clear of a throat.
You hadn't realised Whitaker was there but he was watching the two of you, closely. When you met his eyes he gave a small subtle shake of his head.
Robby looked. “You got a cough, Whitaker?”
He cleared his throat, sliding down in his chair. “No.”
The agreement. It was all fine in practise but how were you supposed to say no when you just said you had no plans and you really wanted to have sex with him! It was the glasses, you were sure that was what did it. The way he pulled them on and pulled them off, the focus it gave him and the way they slipped down his nose.
“So, tonight?” he asked again, voice low.
Only a few people knew, like your room-mates and you were sure others had guessed. Robby wanted to keep it private. Or a secret, you'd never asked for clarification.
You caught Whitakers gaze on yours, watchful. He didn't say anything but you wondered if he'd be disappointed. Would you even be disappointed in yourself? “I can't tonight.”
“Oh,” he said, nodding. “Okay.”
He didn't sound annoyed. He didn't sound anything. It was impossible to tell.
“Yeah, we just- there's this thing-”
“Thought you had no plans?” he asked, an almost amused rise in his brows.
Ah. “It's like- not a plan- just a- a room mate thing. You know?”
Robby looked to Whitaker as if to confirm.
He nodded. “Yeah! Every Wednesday. We watch films.”
“Films,” you confirm.
“And talk.”
“We talk.”
Robby nodded. “Sounds thrilling.”
“Robby!” Dana called. “Got a trauma, woman in her thirties. Five minutes.”
“Got it," he said but he was still slumping over the counter. He took his time moving, stretching up till his shirt rode up enough to expose that slither of skin that held so many promises. “Some other time then.” His hand ghosted the small of your back before he disappeared.
You watched him go, realising you wouldn't spend the night buried in his bored but sleepless and restless.
Whitaker replaced Robby at your side. “See? Doesn't that feel good?”
You answered truthfully. “No.”
That night you, Santos and Whitaker sulked on the sofa, face masks over your faces with a bowl of popcorn left on the table and a shitty movie filling the silence.
Your phone lay face up with nothing from Robby and from Trinity's expression you figured she'd had nothing either.
You'd been to the bathroom once, took your phone with you and debated texting him but you never got that far. You only flicked through texts, casual one's at first. Small 'Are you coming over?' or 'You left your shirt at mine.' There were some dotted from him, on times you were both too busy to meet where things got more... riskier. His texts started simple but you could always catch on to his wants, leading his want.
Things like 'Thought about you today,' or 'you looked good today,' but he never just complimented you for the sake of it.
The texts didn't help so you turned your phone off and re-joined the two all the while your head and heart were in bed with Robby.
The next day passed like another dry spell.
It was busy- too make up for the quiet day beforehand. You didn't have time to greet Robby before being thrown into the chaos from a pile up on the highway. All day your bodies shuffled past each other, his hands lingering on your arms when he passed or always standing next to you in trauma.
It felt something like punishment.
Or a test.
By Friday you were crawling out of your skin, still dealing with the ramifications of the last two days. You hadn't even seen that Robby had text you the night before, so exhausted from work you crashed only spotting his name on your phone the morning you woke from the blare of your alarm.
“You're avoiding me,” he said, kneeling at the computer you typed furiously at to get your charting down. It was a casual move he used, usually un-tying and re-tying his shoes. This time, he simply knelt, seemingly done with pretence.
“What? No.”
“I've barely seen you the last few days," he said, wetting his lips. “Is there something wrong?”
“No, no, I've just been super busy,” you said, tapping on the computer.
Robby shuffled next to you. His hand laid next to yours. He didn't take your hand or stop you but his fingers fidgeted like he didn't know what else to do with himself. “Did I do something?”
You looked down at him, spotting the crease between his brows. “No.”
It was the closest you'd got to seeing him vulnerable.
“So tonight?” he asked. “Feel like I'm losing my damn mind.” His finger was light as it traced your hand, slowly drawing circles.
Tasting Robby was like the first sip of alcohol. It always left you wanting me. Sweet. Bitter. Whatever. You were just left wanting and nothing else, which was why you went crawling back every time. Why saying no had never crosse your mind before. Why the smallest touch from his hand was leaving you in shivers.
You squeezed your eyes shut. “I can't tonight-”
Robby smirked, breathing out a puff of air.
“I would,” you said quickly, turning in your chair to face him. “Believe me, I would, it's just... Trinity is going through some stuff and I just- I don't want to leave her alone, you know.”
It was the truth. Trinity was taking Garcia's silence worse than you or Dennis had anticipated. You knew there was more going on, you only wanted to be there to help her.
Robby perked. “You need me to speak to her?”
“No, no, it's just stuff. She'll be okay I just, want to be safe.”
He nodded but his finger fell from your hand. “Okay.”
“Doctor Robinavitch!” his name was called by the familiar dread of Gloria.
He sighed under his breath as he pushed himself up. “Oh so help me, God.”
By Saturday you were sure Robby thought you were lying and sort out to punish you. He was practically glued at your side all day long. He didn't ask to see you, didn't put his lips near you. But he lingered.
“Okay we don't have a lot of time, there's a lot of bleeding,” said Robby in the face of a trauma, looming over you. “We'll do a Hilar flip.”
“A Hilar flip, are you serious?” said Trinity.
“No other choice.”
You gulped, staring down at the bleeding and misplaced lung. “I've never done one of them before.”
“I'll talk you through it, we'll go easy,” he said, coming at your side. “You're gonna rotate the lung one-eighty, very slow. Very gentle.”
Perhaps it shouldn't have been as erotic as it was. The way his chest heaved against your back, his arm stretching along yours to hold your hand and guide it through the blood to his lung. His face was concentrated next to yours but his breath was hot on your cheek and breathless.
“Go slow.... go slow. Easy.... gentle.... just like that, there we go,” he uttered against your ear.
“Blood loss is slowing down.”
“There we go, you got it,” he mumbled as you slotted it back into its place. “Okay-” Robby moved on like your whole body wasn't trembling. You had to carry on trying to save the guys life after it, like you weren't picturing his entire body draped over yours, whispering filthy things in your ears.
“Thought I was watching a porno there,” said Santos as you all fled the room when the guy was stable.
“Jesus-” you caught your breath, throwing off the gloves and running your hands through your hair, trying to get some air to your neck that sweat.
Santos chuckled to herself. “So does Doctor Robby talk you through it?”
“Trin-” you snap.
“Does he praise you? Is that the kind of thing you're into.”
You didn't respond, hiding in the bathroom to throw cold water onto your face and calm the rush of blood but you could hear Santos outside the door. 'This is a teaching hospital!' she teased.
It became a thing you had to do, get away from him. You couldn't be distracted when dealing with patients. It was bad enough working with him when all you could think about was fucking him!
But Robby seemed to insist in helping you.
“Gaping wounds like this, under the skin we use sub-Q to bring it together,” he instructed as started the stitching for a mans wound on his leg. It was just like anything else, hardly a teaching wound when you knew how to do it. As it was under tissue and there was just no other nurse around Robby insisted.
“Five-O under skin, three-O after that,” he said.
“You think you could show me?”
You both knew you didn't need to be shown but Robby still gave you a small smile and sat on the stall, coming close to you till his meaty thigh was against your own. His hands- though gloved as yours were- still grazed yours as he took the instruments to do it.
“Guide it through... it's finer so you want to extra gentle... lotta care...”
You hummed but you couldn't say you were watching it with keen eyes. You weren't watching the way the stitches came together just the way his hands flexed, his fingers moved.
“Start deep... all the way in... bury the knot in... yeah, see how it comes together just like that?”
You nodded with an absent mind.
Robby held the equipment out to you. “Go ahead.”
You hesitated. Maybe you should have paid more attention.
He all but shoved them into your hand. “You're a big girl, you got it.”
Santos's voice played it your head. Were you into this?
With a breath you steadied yourself and went in. As he had before Robby leant over you, his body practically weighing you down.
You took the thread under the skin, pulling together just like he had.
“Bit deeper-” Robby's hands guided your arms. They were as light as a feather at your elbows before slowly sliding down your arms with a firmer hold, leading the threads.
You remembered his tight hold on you when he wanted you in place on the bed, when he was was dragging clothes off your body or wrapping a hand around your neck-
Robby called your name, watching you expectantly. His eyes were softened at the edges but they grew darker, the smallest bit of a smirk at the corner of his lips. Like he knew exactly what he was doing to you.
“Right... sorry-” you went as deep as he instructed, knowing his face was concentrated on you and your hands.
“Do you want me to leave?” asked the patient.
If he could leave his leg and leave it would've been great.
“We'll get you out of here in no time,” said Robby.
You'd thought that maybe the stitching at taken so long it was almost time to leave. Maybe you could talk to Whitaker and Santos about this hard to get thing. It was only eleven and you had more than six hours left with situations that constantly brought you and Robby together. Even when it didn't, there he was, whispering words of encouragement.
“You got this... nice and easy.... doing really good there...”
Or the simple phrase that had you hiding in the bathroom for five minutes.
“Good girl.”
When the end of the day came you ran out of there, gasping in air and rushing back back to your place.
“Hey,” you greeted walking through the door.
Trinity was already there, looking like she was ready to leave, jacket thrown over her scrubs she hadn't changed out of even though she finished an hour before you. “Hey.”
“Where's Huckleberry?”
“Oh he's at Amy's tonight.”
You scoffed. “Woah. What a speech about doing better and playing hard to get but as soon as the chance comes to play farm. So, movie tonight? I can order pizza?”
“Actually, I'm just on my way out too,” she said. “Garcia called.”
You slumped. Your entire body slumped. Your heart gave up. “What? I thought we all made a deal?”
“We did, I played hard to get now she wants to see me,” she said.
“I haven't seen Robby in three days!”
“So go to his, get dicked down, girl,” she said, moving past you with a breeze. “I'm sorry, we can talk about how much of a bitch I am when I'm back from having the best sex yet! Later!”
She was out the door before you could chastise her. You shut it after her, falling upon it.
You'd ran from the ED to stay strong, to avoid another interaction with Robby that would have you climbing his bones in an empty room. You'd happily have done it with the teasing he'd subjected you to all day. For your friends and the promise you'd made you remained strong.
You'd never do that again.
Saturday night after the longest shift of your life and you had the place to yourself. It was rare. Either Denis or Trinity were home or you were spending the night at Robby's.
Your phone was heavy in your pocket.
Call him.
But the problem still lied un-answered. You were still at Robby's beck and call, begging for his attention. Begging him to be hard thinking about you so he could fuck you into the mattress to be professional the net day and treat you like you were just another MR.
You didn't want special treatment so to say, didn't want him to give you the easy patients or get you into the traumas more. You just wanted a smile, or a glimpse of .... love.
Maybe your friends were okay with what they had. You weren't.
You turned your phone off for the night and stripped from your scrubs, changing into a large shirt and blasting music Trin hated and Denis claimed to hate (but you'd heard him playing your playlist in the shower). For a crazy night alone you caught up on washing several pairs of scrubs and anything else, cleaned out the freezer leaving you barren of anything to eat. Maybe you'd even iron some normal clothes-
That's at least what you were thinking when there was a knock at the door.
You'd hoped it was Denis or Trin coming back, tails between their legs, keys forgotten.
Robby stood on the other side of the door.
You stood, frozen, shocked to see him there. He was just as still, waiting with raised brows. “Doctor Robby. Is everything okay?”
His backpack was slung over his shoulder, his scrubs only slightly dirtied from the day. But his eyes were alive and his body didn't sag with exhaustion like usual. His eyes darted back behind you. “Can I come in?”
You held open the door, closing it slowly behind you.
Robby had only been to your place once before. He looked the open living space open with interest. Typically your meet ups were at his, on account he lived alone and his bed was much nicer to be down on than yours.
“Er- Whitaker and Santos aren't home, if- if this is a hospital thing.”
“It's not,” he said, lowering his bag at the sofa.
“Oh?”
He turned, leaning against the back of it. “It's a me and you thing.”
“Oh.”
His arms flexed as he folded them over his chest, the green of his top under his scrub bunched at the forearms. His head ducked, trying to get a read on you. “So?”
You rocked on your heels, realising the shortened of the shirt you wore. Not that it wasn't anything he had seen before. “So...”
“What's going on?” he asked. There was still nothing in his voice to give away his true thoughts, only a slight edge of urgency.
“What-what-what do you mean?”
Robby listed off what he saw was wrong like symptoms. “You've been avoiding me, you never answered my texts, you didn't want to see me the other night nor tonight though you have the place to yourself-”
“I didn't realise they were gone,” you said.
“Okay so every other time?” he asked. “If I did something you can tell me. I'm a big guy, I can take it.”
It was a chance to voice up every ill thought you'd had but all you could think about was how big he was. Standing there, jutted on the back of the couch with his scrubs around his arms and thighs.
“You didn't do anything,” you said, though you weren't looking at his eyes more his arms.
They flexed again like he knew what he was doing. His voice dropped, finally to something you could name. “So tell me. what's going on.”
If you threw yourself at him you knew the chances of him taking you to bed were high, but the chances of you regretting it in the morning when he had rolled out of bed, dressed and left you were higher.
“I just-” you blew out a breath, readying yourself for the dismiss. “I don't think I can do this anymore.”
Robby waited like he was listening to the words re-play. His head lowered as he nodded, taking it in. “May I ask why?”
“It's the casual thing,” you rushed out before you could take it back. “I don't think I can do casual. I thought I could, but I-I can't.”
He nodded, chin tucked into his chest and for a moment you thought you really had upset him. But then he straightened up, pushed himself from the sofa and shrugged. His boots thudded heavy as he stepped to you slow. “Okay then.”
Was this the moment when you got the door for him on the way out?
“Okay, so... um.... I guess I'll see you-”
Robby's hands grasped your cheeks and he kissed you quick, hard. His lips tasted as they always did with a hint of mint-freshness. They were rough as always as they worked against yours, opening you up to him as always-
You brushed away, shaking your head. “I um- Robby I can't-”
He took a deep, shuddering breath. He stepped closer to you, the heat of his body waving over you. “We don't have to be casual anymore, I don't want to be casual- not anymore.”
Everyone knew Robby only knew casual. Only selected few ever got past seven weeks. Heck you hadn't counted how long this had been going on for, maybe ten weeks but that could be nothing. You were good sex, that was all.
“Robby-”
“Listen, listen-” he said, arms waving around you before settling on your forearms. “You don't want casual, neither do I. You want me to ask? You want me to ask you to be my girlfriend, I'll ask.”
“Robby you don't date,” you tried to tell him.
He scoffed. “I date. But not anymore, not if I have you.”
Had word of the deal got out? Was Robby just tired after his shift? Delusional?
“Hey, hey-" his hands ran through your hair, cradling your cheeks. “I should've said it earlier, I know but I want this. I want serious.”
His eyes crinkled as he looked at you, the edges of his gaze soft. “You don't just have to say this. You can have anyone else-”
Robby's head ducked into the crook of your neck, brushing your hair back and pressing light kisses to the expanse of your neck. “I don't want anyone else, I want you.”
Your body awakened in shivers that he elicited.
His fingers wound to the front of your body, slowly peeling away the buttons of the shirt till it pooled at your ankles. He didn't move to ravage you, his lips remained light as they kissed down your neck, finding your collarbone and working a mark there.
Your hands wound up his arms, clutching at his shoulders. “Robby-”
“Not this time,” he uttered against your collarbone.
You knew what you called him when it was you and him. “Michael-”
“Good girl.”
You moaned out at the words, the moan you'd held all day revibrating around your flat.
He slowly kicked odd his boots and helped you throw off his scrub top before he kissed you again.
You only got a short glimpse at the body you craved before his tongue, hot and heavy, slid into you mouth, bathing in the warmth. His hands were rough as they studied every inch of your body, fingertips digging into skin.
“I want you, sweet girl,” he mumbled against your lips as you scaled your hands under his shirt and along his stomach till your fingers skimmed under his waistband.
His mouth opened against yours, groaning at this slightest touch. “Oh-”
His arms scooped you up, bringing your body up and flush against him as his arms were strong on your back, kissing you. It was all wet tongue and soft lips as he stumbled back on the edge of your couch.
“Santos will kill me if we have sex on our couch,” you gasped.
Robby rose a brow. “Oh, we're having sex?” he teased.
“I should hope so.”
You kissed you hard again, wetting the both of your mouths in delectable smacks of your lips. The two of you stumbled away to your room and his body caged you in as the two of you fell atop your sheets.
You crawled up the bed as Robby's face fell between your chest. His tongue made wet paths from each breast, taking a nipple in his mouth and his hand groping at the other one till you withered against his body.
“Michael-”
He moaned into your breast and shoved a meaty thigh between your legs. “Grind on me,” he demanded.
Your body did against him as if it only listened to his command.
He mouthed your other breast, groping where his tongue had pressed before. All the while you body moved against his thigh, dragging your pussy against him.
“Yeah.... jus' like that... god.... can feel you.... so good,” he uttered as he jutted his thigh against you.
Your hands went to his shoulders, messaging the skin there until he came back up your body and shoved his tongue down your throat again. Your arm wrapped around his neck, keeping him into you.
All the while you wet down his scrubs.
“You want serious?” he uttered against you, pulling back enough to see you.
You nodded, hair splayed over your pillow.
Robby nodded along, eyes hooded. His hand slid down between your bodies. “I can do serious.”
His finger slid into you, working in and out in slow thrusts. But even the meassured curl of his finger had you holding him, back arching from the bed.
“Mmph-”
“Don't be quiet,” he said, nuzzling his head in you neck, biting the skin there. “Don't do that.”
Another finger curled in and you moaned on. You weren't quiet usually, there was nothing more than Robby liked than being loud. Everything was measured in the ED, out of it, buried inside of you or hot mouths on each other had Robby groaning, moaning and wanting you to do the same.
His fingers thrusted knuckle deep in and out again, the soft moving of skin moving around the room as your breaths covered the sound.
His fingers moved quick as your breaths grew laboured. He sucked the skin of your neck, thrusting and curling as his hips sort some sort of friction.
You withered against him. “I'm gonna- Michael I'm gonna-”
He released your skin with a small bite and laid his mouth open on yours. “Cum,” he uttered.
“Michael-”
His voice turned harder, the hand that wasn't inside of you wrapping around your neck, pushing you into your bed. “Cum.”
With just the right curl Robby had your pussy in the palm of his hand, slick with your release as he worked you through it, rubbing his hand along your clit with jolts of your body.
“God so good,” he said, looking up at you as a thin sheen of sweat glistened on your bodies. “And all mine?”
You nodded, cheeks flushed. You could feel the heat of your body as strong as it was when he walked in.
“All mine, huh?”
“Yes,” you said, breathless.
Robby slowly took out his fingers from you, putting his fingers in his mouth and licking them clean like it was nothing. He fell back on his feet, fingers working on the ties of his scrubs. “That why you were avoiding me?”
“I wasn't-” your words died in your throat as he dropped his scrubs and boxers in one.
You'd seen his cock enough to know it by memory but the size and fullness of him always rendered you speechless.
Robby knew it to. He stood there with a smirk. “You weren't avoiding me?”
Slowly, he sank to his knees.
“No,” you said, mesmerised by the sight of him going down.
Robby's hands grabbed your thighs, spreading them. He tapped your ankles, getting them on the bed as he got closer to your heat, still leaking from the last orgasm. “Promise?”
The words had hardly left your lips before his tongue pressed into you.
Your entire body moved into his but his arms wrapped around your hips, keeping you pressed into the bed. He moved further up, burying himself in you.
“Aw- fuck-” your hands waved for purchase before curling into the sheets.
He licked a stripe up and down before nudging your lips open and finding himself in there. It wasn't the slow drag of fingers but the desperate kisses and licks of a man hungry. He pulled back, spitting against you. “You won't avoid me again, will you baby?”
You shook your head.
Robby's eyes remained on yours until he buried himself in your pussy. You watched his eyes roll into the back of his head as he moaned into you.
His hands kept you spread open every time they quivered but it didn't take long for his hand to wind down to his cock. You prepped yourself up onto your elbows to watch as he pumped his cock agonizingly slow.
“Want your cock, Robby-”
He halted his movements and you but down on your lip.
“What did you just call me?” he asked, slowly moving up your body.
You knew you were supposed to call him Michael but watching the full swing of his cock stand to attention as he made his way over you was far too distracting.
“Hey-v his hand cupped your chin, forcing you to look up. “Michael.”
You nodded. Your hands reached for his cock, straining to wrap around him.
The only notice of the effect you had was the clench of his jaw.
“Michael,” he repeated, voice almost a growl.
“Michael.”
He nodded.
“Condom?” he asked, jutting back on his heels.
Your hand slowly worked his cock, the pre-cum beading at the tip. You shook your head. You were both clean, you were on the pill but tonight you wanted to feel everything, wanted him to even fill you-
Robby bent his head, spitting down on his cock and your hand. For a moment that's all it was, you hand moving on his cock as your other circled your clit. “God... your hand.... missed you...”
When your strokes got heavier, faster Robby's head fell back and he groaned. His cock was pink, heavy in your hand-
Quickly he grabbed your wrist and threw it off before grabbing the hilt of his own cock and slowly pushing into you.
His throat strained as he groaned at the push in and your back arched into him. “Fuck!” he fell atop you, arms braced at either side. “Shit- ah-”
Your arm wrapped around his shoulders, keeping you in.
“God, you make me crazy,” he uttered, searching for your lips.
The two of you collided in a mess of salvia, tongue, lips as he pushed into you, catching your gasps.
Eventually the rock of his hips grew steady. The creak of your old bed echoed the moves of him against you.
“Shit- ah-” he groaned, shaking off the sweat and the tension.
“Michael,” you said, holding him in closer. “I want you to... go hard.”
Hard he could do. Soft he could do. He would do anything you asked.
His tongue darted out, swiping your lips. “You missed me?”
“So much, so much, so much,” you pulled him down till his weight tested yours, cock deep. “On me.”
“Okay, okay,” he mumbled to himself. He put all his weight down, crashing your body into his bed. He wasn't as young as he once was. By no means but if you wanted it, he'd give it.
Pressed into you his cock went far and deep and he couldn't fully withdraw so it was small, maddening movements.
“Oh god,” he uttered.
You moaned, loud, as he wanted and he was breathless, groaning.
The dull thump of your headboard banged on the wall and something on your bedside table fell off.
Robby's arm stretched out, grabbing your hand and stretching your arms to the headboard, trying to steady it. With the stretch of the bodies he reached that spot in you.
“Aw fuck!” You yelled out, louder than anticipated. “Michael I'm gonna- I'm gonna-”
“Fuck, fuck, fuck-” he grunted with you. His other hand threw to your hip, holding your pelvis flush into you. “Fuck!”
In seconds he let go inside of you and the gush of his cum and the sound of the wet bodies threw you over the edge. His clutch on your hand grew tighter as his body trembled with yours, the spurts of your releases cooling down.
If this was casual Robby wouldn't have lingered, he'd have pulled out, flashed you a smile before using the bathroom.
He moved slower, staying till the both of you were spent. He kissed you, soft and sweet, lips moving around to remember the taste. “I'll move out,” he whispered as he took out his cock.
You stole a glance of both of your release leaking from you and around him before Robby moved aside.
He didn't flee, he didn't go to the bathroom. He pulled the sheets from under your bodies and got the both of you into bed. He laid beside you.
Robby tucked you under his arm, sweat on both your bodies cooling as you laid together. “Feels better when we're serious.” His fingers moved slow on your shoulder, delicate touches like a feather.
If he woke with a new thought, woke with regret you'd deal with it. For the moment you allowed yourself to feel the thump of his heart as the two of you slowly lulled to sleep.
Your alarm was the first thing you picked up in the morning. It's beeping ringing in your ear as you moved to turn the thing off or throw it at the wall-
A weight over your stomach made the effort harder but you got it.
Last night came back to you in the spill of scrubs on the floor and the ache between your legs.
Robby stirred next to you. Last night.
He stayed.
“You on today?” he asked, morning voice rough. You got a look at him, it was a rare sight you got to see him in morning light. His eyes were still shut, his face without the stress the day job gave him. He asked so casual, as if this was a morning routine you'd slipped into years ago.
You hummed, nodding and readying to move-
His arm tightened, drawing you in. “Call in sick.”
You chuckled, but your eyes closed. You promised yourself five more minutes. “My attending might have something to say about that.”
Robby grumbled. “Have a word with him, I'm sure you can be very persuasive.”
Somewhere in you apartment you heard the front door open and close, voices moving around the place.
You hadn't closed the door.
“Hey! We brought coffee and bagels!” called Santos.
“We're sorry for leaving you- we- huh?” you heard Whitaker. “What the?”
The clothes on the floor. The scrub top that would have his doctors badge on it.
You groaned and suddenly Whitaker and Santos were passing the doorway, one smirking, the other shocked.
Robby beside you didn't even stir.
“Good morning, Doctor Robby!” called Santos.
He only lifted a hand in greeting before making sure the covers were over the two of you.
You reached for something heavy, landing on a cushion and aiming at the door. It closed in front of your laughing friends.
18+ ⫶ SQUIRT LESSONS 101 ℘ requested
jack abbot proves your ‘incapability’ of squirting wrong.
the moment you mention the fact of never being able to squirt to jack, he’s a bit surprised. his lips parting to utter a response, but it falls silent as he raises a hand to caress the stubble on his jawline.
“never?” he repeats, not wanting to believe the words that just came out of your mouth because there’s just no way that’s true. “never.” you say after him, averting your eyes as you feel heat trickle down your body.
“no guy has ever been able to make me squirt, and… i haven’t been able to make myself either.” the lump on your throat thickens, and you can feel the embarrassment kicking in. “and google says tha—”
“google?” abbot cuts your sentence short with a disapproving laugh, it almost sounds sarcastic. “c’mon, kid that’s your source? half the stuff on google’s written by a bun’cha people who don’t know squat of what they’re talking about.” he rises from his chair, throwing his chin back to ensure the faculty-lounge door is closed before making his way over towards you.
and you of all people should know better than to trust what a website such as google says — you’re a doctor in practice, you have the source right within the building you’re standing in.
you feel the distance between you and abbot close as he presses his chest against your shoulder, ducking down near your ear whispering. “seems like you don’t know your own body anymore than those boys do.” he leans forward to get a read on your expression, and you’re there standing still like an embarrassed pup that doesn’t know what to do which makes him smile.
“no need to feel embarrassed.” he reassures, throwing a hand on top of your head, “let me give you hand, help you learn the difference between incapability and never having learned.”
and that’s how you found yourself breaking your own code of ethics. splayed out on jack abbot’s mattress, hugging a pillow against your chest as his tongue worked at your pussy.
he’s on his stomach, his arms hooked underneath your thighs to pull you closer on his mouth. “j—jack …” a moan falls from your lips, the way his tongue glides through your folds. how he angles the tip of his tongue to flex the muscle just before he meets your clit to flick at it.
“focus on the feeling, you gotta relax.” he murmurs, pulling off for just a mili-second before latching back onto the sensitive nub. flattening his tongue as his rocks his mouth against you, he’s hallowing his cheeks causing you to grab at his the roots of his hair in attempt to tug him off.
though he’s swatting your hand away, digging his face deeper — in between your thighs with a low, drawn out groan as your toes curl at the anticipating increase of pleasure making your core tighten.
“oh m— i’m gonna cum, jack- i’m gonna—“
he’s pulling his lips away from your pussy with a wet pop, soaked and glistening by his saliva mixed with your slick — as the tightness in your tummy slowly loosens. “that was damn, close.” jack breathes, wiping his mouth off with the backside of his hand before propping himself up in a position comfortable for his right amputee.
he reaches out, hands wrapping around your hips to drag you towards him. you don’t even resist, not when your own pleasure was stripped from you — you needed anything that could bring back that euphoric feeling.
your hips grind upwards, grinding against nothing but atoms. “see, that’s it— now you know what your body’s wantin’.” his slides a hand from your hips to below your navel, before slowly dragging the pads of his rough fingers down near the mound of your pussy.
carefully grazing over swollen pearl as you whine to the almost there sensation. jack watches the way your body reacts to his touch — pressing his index and middle finger into your slick folds, soaking his fingers in your mess. “‘s a good sign. you’re fuckin’ drenched, sweetheart .” he groans, dragging his digits further down to meet your entrance.
you claw your nails into the pillow your clutching as the tips of his fingers prod at your hole. he’s teasing, intoxicated by the way your hips are still rolling against his hand while you let out little moans as he gently presses his thick fingers inside you.
“m—mngh fuck, jack…” you sighs, tilting your chin up to the ceiling, “yeah? that feels good doesn’t it, kid?” he cooed, flicking his eyes up to trace your expression only to be met with one of his pillows before he’s tugging it away from your chest. “there we goo.” he sings, glossing over sweets features with your bottom lip caught between your teeth, making him click his tongue.
“uh-uh, it feels better when you let it out.” he shakes his head, stuffing your hole with his fingers until he’s knuckles deep — angling his fingers in an upward direction that rips a moan from your throat as he curls his digits inside of you.
and the action shoots right through the nerves within your sensitive bud. “i can f—feel it in my clit.” you stammer, brows furrowed as indescribable pressure builds against your badder and swells your nub. “mhmm, that’s right.” he hums, pressing the pads of fingers deeper against that spongy wall inside of you, as your toes curl.
“the g-spot, you’re jackpot, baby.” he rasps with a lopsided grin — shifting his position to lie down on his side, right besides you as his nose presses into the side of your cheek. “the more pressure you add…” he murmurs as his breath warms your skin, pressing with cruel precision that makes the place between your legs run warm.
“j— jack.” you mewl, eyes shut tight with a hand reach at his. “the more you get that peeing feeling.” he demonstrates, feeling your soft walls close in around his fingers.
you can feel the way your bladder fills with each nudge of his movements — like he’s milking the sensation out of you. as if he’s adding fuel to the sensitive nerves bundle inside you as your clit twitches to the repetitive motion.
“and if i press my thumb righttt against this pretty fuckin’ clit.” he groans, darting his thumb upward before pressing the pad flush against your clit. “nnnnmg-my god!” you gasp, back arching off the mattress while squeezing your thighs around his hand.
his fingers and thumb stimulating both pleasurable points at once has your mind blanking. eyes rolling to the back of your skull as you’re choking on a plethora of moans.
“‘m gonna cum— m’gonna cum, i’m—” you can feel a surge of warmth flood your nerves as you slur your words. “theree you go, melt into that feeling for me.” he groans, as your walls choke around his digits stuffing your pussy full with his thumb working circles against your overstimulated clit.
you feel your tummy tighten, vision flash white as the sensation completely overrides your body. “cummmingg!” you inhale breathlessly, holding your breath as your clit throbs with a dangerous amount of pleasure before you’re gushing everywhere.
“atta girl.” jack whistles with satisfaction — and you can’t even respond, still too busy making a mess all over yourself and jack’s arm. you’re body’s tenses against his chest as he continues milking you dry, letting you ride the feeling out while pressing his mouth against your ear. “gotta few more things ‘m sure your body’s never done.” he murmurs.
Summary: After a pediatric patient panics during an IV start, you end up in the ED with a dislocated shoulder, a lot of pain meds, and absolutely no filter. The day shift learns three things very quickly: Jack Abbot is your husband, you picked that one, and apparently, his forearms are medically relevant.
Warnings: established relationship, married Jack and reader, injury, shoulder dislocation, medical procedure/reduction, pain medication/loopy reader, swearing, suggestive humor, sexual jokes, Jack being hot as a clinical intervention, Robby being Robby, fluff, crack treated seriously, hospital setting, peds nurse reader, very unserious wedding lore
Author’s Note: This is very much the sister fic in spirit to Where Is My Husband? Same deeply married chaos, same loopy wife energy, same Jack Abbot being forced to endure public affection against his will. Except this time, Robby discovers that “sexy doctor husband” is not just a title — it is, unfortunately for Jack, a clinically useful intervention. This one is ridiculous, soft, unhinged, and honestly exactly the kind of nonsense I love putting these two through. Jack is trying so hard to be a serious, worried husband; Robby is having the best shift of his life; Dana is quietly enabling chaos under the guise of professionalism; and Reader is simply telling the truth. Loudly. On medication.
You’re welcome.
Xoxo, Del
The first rule of pediatrics was that fear moved faster than pain. You had learned that early.
Pain made kids cry. Fear made them bolt.
Eli Mereiter had been trying very hard not to do either for almost twenty minutes.
He sat in the center of the peds exam bed with his knees tucked under the thin blanket, his left wrist cradled against his chest, his cheeks blotchy from the effort of pretending he was fine. His mother stood near the head of the bed, one hand on his shoulder and the other twisting the strap of her purse so tightly her knuckles had gone white.
“You’re doing great,” you told him.
Eli looked at the IV tray and swallowed. “No, I’m not.”
You crouched beside the bed so you were closer to eye level.
“You are. Great doesn’t mean you aren’t scared. It means you’re still here with me even though you are.”
His eyes flicked to yours.
The honesty helped. It usually did. Kids could smell a lie faster than adults could dress one up.
“It’s gonna hurt,” he said.
You nodded.
“It’s going to pinch. I won’t call it nothing.” You rested one hand on the mattress, close but not touching him without warning. “But it’ll be fast, and you don’t have to watch.”
His mouth trembled once before he pressed it flat. “I don’t want it.”
“I know.” You gave him a serious nod. “That’s fair. We can hate it together.”
Eli looked at you like that was suspicious. “You hate it?”
“I hate it when kids have to do scary things,” you said. “But I like when they get through them and realize they were braver than they thought.”
His mom made a quiet sound behind him.
You glanced up at her and gave a small, reassuring smile before looking back at Eli.
“How about this,” you said. “You pick where you look. Mom’s face, the ceiling tile that kind of looks like a potato, or me.”
Eli’s brows pinched together. “The ceiling tile doesn’t look like a potato.”
You looked up. “It absolutely does.”
He glanced up despite himself. For one second, his attention shifted. Not enough to make him calm, but enough to give him somewhere else to put the fear.
“That one?” he asked.
You nodded. “Very potato.” His mom gave a wet little laugh.
The nurse beside you finished prepping the IV with practiced quiet. You saw Eli clock the movement anyway. His eyes cut to the tourniquet. Then the alcohol wipe. Then the catheter.
His breathing changed. You leaned in slightly. “Eli. Look at me.” His gaze snapped back to yours.
You kept your voice low and even. “Can you breathe in with me?”
He tried. His breath caught halfway.
“That’s okay,” you said. “Again. Smaller this time.”
The nurse reached for his arm. Eli saw the flash of the needle. Fear got there first.
“No,” he said.
His mother tightened her hand on his shoulder. “Eli—”
“No!” He jerked backward, fast and hard, trying to get away from the tray, from the nurse, from the whole room.
“Hey, hey.” You moved with him. “You’re okay.”
But he was already twisting. His sneaker slid against the paper sheet. His hip caught the edge of the mattress. The bed rail was down on your side because you had been sitting there with him, and his small body tipped toward the open space between the bed and the floor.
You moved before thought could catch up.
Your hand caught the back of his gown. Your other arm shot across his chest, bracing him before he could fall.
For half a second, you had him. Then his weight hit your shoulder wrong. Something shifted. Not cracked. Not snapped.
Slipped.
White-hot pain tore through your shoulder and down your arm so violently that the room went gray at the edges. You made a sound you did not recognize.
Someone grabbed Eli from the other side.
“I’ve got him,” the other nurse said. “I’ve got him.”
Good, you thought. That was good.
You went down hard on one knee, your right arm hanging wrong, breath gone from your chest.
Eli was crying now. Not the scared kind. The guilty kind.
“I hurt her,” he sobbed.
You tried to lift your head. Bad idea. Pain slammed up the side of your neck and behind your teeth.
“No,” you forced out. Your voice sounded thin. Far away. “No, honey. You didn’t.”
A hand touched your back. “Don’t move,” someone said.
You tried to breathe through your nose. “Is he okay?”
“He’s okay,” she repeated, firmer this time. “We have him.”
Eli’s mother had him against her now, both arms wrapped around his shaking body. His face was turned toward you, wet and horrified.
You managed to focus on him. “Eli.”
His crying hitched. “I didn’t mean to.”
“I know.” You swallowed down nausea. “I know you didn’t. You got scared. That’s different.”
His face crumpled harder. You looked at his mom. “Tell him I’m not mad.”
“We will,” she said quickly.
You closed your eyes for half a second. “Please tell him.”
“We will,” the nurse said beside you. “But right now, we need to get you downstairs.”
You opened your eyes. “No, he needs—”
“He has his mom,” she said gently. “And he has Megan. We’ve got him.”
You wanted to argue. Your shoulder pulsed once, deep and sickening, and the rest of the sentence disappeared. Someone called down to the ED before they moved you. You heard pieces of it through the pain and the blood rushing in your ears.
“Staff injury coming down from peds.”
“Likely right shoulder dislocation.”
“Caught a pediatric patient who panicked during IV prep.”
“Vitals stable.”
“Severe pain.”
Nobody said your name. Or maybe they did, and it got swallowed somewhere between the exam room and the elevator. Either way, by the time they got you into a wheelchair, your scrubs were damp at the collar, your vision kept narrowing at the corners, and your arm had become a separate, terrible country you refused to look at.
You hated being the patient.
You hated it so much you almost missed the part where you were terrified. Almost.
The elevator ride downstairs felt both too fast and too slow. Someone kept telling you to breathe. Someone else kept asking your pain number. You gave a number that was probably too low because saying the real one made it feel more real.
The ED doors opened.
The familiar noise hit first. Monitors. Shoes. Voices. The distant roll of a cart.
Robby was already at the mouth of a bay when they wheeled you in, tablet in hand, chief-of-the-ER face on. Dana stood beside him with gloves already pulled on, calm and unsmiling in the way that meant she had already cleared the room in her head. Santos hovered just behind her like she could smell a procedure from three bays away. Princess was at the computer, and Javadi stood near the supply cart, trying very hard to look like someone who was not internally rehearsing every step of a shoulder reduction.
“Peds called down,” Robby said. “Likely right shoulder disloca—”
Then he saw your face. The chief of the ER expression dropped clean off.
For one second, he was not chief of anything. He was just your friend. “What the fuck, dude?”
You tried to glare at him. “Great bedside manner.”
Robby was already moving. He came to your side, one hand bracing the wheelchair arm, his eyes sweeping over your face.
“Look at me,” he said. “You with me?”
You blinked at him through the pain. “No, Robby, I thought I’d dissociate recreationally.”
His jaw tightened. “Answer me like less of a pain in my ass.”
You sighed. “I’m with you.”
“Good.” He glanced at the peds nurse behind your chair. “They called down a peds nurse. They did not say it was you.”
“Would that have changed your medical plan?” you asked.
“No.” His eyes flicked to your shoulder, and the doctor came back into him all at once. “It would have given me thirty more seconds to emotionally prepare for both my friend being injured and Jack killing me.”
“Jack is not going to kill you,” you replied.
Dana made a quiet sound. Robby pointed at her without looking. “Do not contribute.”
Dana lifted both gloved hands. “I said nothing.”
“You thought loudly.”
Santos leaned slightly to see your arm better. “Is it anterior?”
You swallowed through the pain. “Is Eli okay?”
Robby’s attention snapped back to you. Then he looked to the peds nurse. “Eli is the kid?”
The peds nurse nodded quickly. “Eight-year-old. Wrist injury. He’s okay. Megan stayed with him and his mom.”
Your eyes closed. “Did someone tell him I’m not mad?”
Robby went still for half a beat. His expression changed again. Softer this time. Worried in a way he could not hide behind sarcasm fast enough.
“Yeah,” he said. “They told him.”
“He won’t believe them,” you murmured.
Robby looked at you. “He might.”
“He’s eight.” Your voice thinned around the pain. “Eight-year-olds think everything is their fault.”
Robby looked at you for one second too long. Then he nodded once, like he was putting that away for later. “Okay,” he said. “We’re going to get you on the bed. Slow. Dana, support the arm. Javadi, do not look terrified.”
Javadi straightened. “I’m not terrified.” Robby looked at her.
You hated the careful hands and the count of three and the way pain still broke through your teeth when they moved you.
You hated that Robby’s face stayed calm. That meant it looked bad.
Once you were on the bed, Dana slid a pillow under your arm with the clean precision of a woman who did not waste motion. Princess clipped a monitor to your finger. Javadi asked about allergies, her voice only a little too bright. Santos hovered at the foot of the bed, watching your shoulder with open interest until Dana glanced at her.
Santos lifted her hands. “I’m not touching anything.”
“Correct,” Dana said.
Robby looked up from your shoulder. “Pain number.” You hesitated.
He gave you a look. “Do not make me ask like I don’t know you.” You told the truth.
Robby’s mouth tightened. “Thank you for not lying to me twice.”
“I lied once,” you admitted.
Robby shook his head. “You lied badly once.” Your breathing hitched. “Did someone tell Eli?”
The peds nurse, still lingering near the curtain, nodded. “Megan did. His mom did too.”
“But did he believe them?” you pushed.
Robby braced one hand lightly on the bed rail. “Do not try to sit up.”
You looked at him. “I wasn’t.”
“You thought about it,” Robby replied.
Your eyes narrowed. “You can’t prove that.”
“I’m chief of emergency medicine,” he said. “I can prove anything if I chart creatively.”
A laugh tried to escape you. It did not make it past the pain. Robby saw that too. His voice shifted.
“IV, x-ray, then pain meds before we reduce it,” he said. “Let’s get films and make sure we know exactly what we’re dealing with.”
“Love being discussed like a broken chair,” you muttered.
Robby leaned over you, penlight in hand. “I have never met a chair this mouthy.”
Princess found a vein in your good arm. You looked away while she taped the line down. That felt ridiculous, considering you had started hundreds of IVs yourself, but today your body had decided to be dramatic, and you were not giving it more material.
Robby watched your face. “You okay?”
“No,” you answered honestly.
Robby almost smiled. “Good answer.”
Princess glanced up from your IV. “Do you want us to call someone?”
“Yes,” you said immediately.
Robby’s eyes narrowed like he already knew where this was going.
Princess kept her hands near the computer. “Who should we call?”
“Jack Abbot.”
The room did not stop. Not yet. Princess typed, then paused.
Her eyes moved from the screen to you. “Dr. Abbot?”
You breathed through your teeth. “Yes.”
The room went a little too quiet. You opened one eye. “What?”
Santos looked from you to Robby. “Night-shift Abbot?”
“How many Jack Abbots do you know?” you asked.
Javadi made the mistake of whispering, “Dr. Abbot is her emergency contact?”
“He’s my husband,” you said, like that explained the entire universe.
It did, actually. Just not to the room. Santos stared.
Javadi looked like someone had changed the laws of physics in front of her.
Princess’s mouth opened, then closed, then opened again. Dana, somehow, did not move at all.
Then her eyes narrowed. “The sandwich.” You closed your eyes. “Dana.”
Santos looked at her. “What sandwich?”
Dana didn’t look away from the monitor. “Shift change. Three weeks ago. Abbot was coming off nights. She was passing the desk with a stack of peds charts.”
Princess leaned around Javadi. “I remember that.”
“He had half a sandwich in his hand,” Dana said. “Tore the crust off without breaking conversation, held it up, and she took it on the way by.”
You breathed carefully through your teeth. “I was hungry.”
“You said thanks,” Dana added.
Santos blinked. “That’s it?” Dana finally looked up.
“That’s the point.” A beat passed.
Then Princess pointed toward you. “Wait. The parking lot.”
You opened one eye. “Please don’t.”
“I saw you two by the employee parking last month,” Princess said. “He switched sides with you near the cars.”
Javadi blinked. “Switched sides?” Princess looked at her like this was obvious. “The sidewalk rule.”
Javadi’s brows pulled together. “The what?”
“When the guy walks closer to the street,” Princess said. “Protective thing. Old-school. Very romantic if he’s hot.”
Santos made a face. “That sounds fake.”
Dana adjusted the pulse ox cord. “It’s not fake.”
Princess pointed at Dana. “Thank you.”
You stared at the ceiling. “Can we not analyze my husband’s walking patterns while my shoulder is in another fucking zip code?”
“And he had your bag,” Princess added.
“It was heavy,” you said.
She looked at you. “It had little strawberries on it.”
Robby’s mouth twitched. “Jack carried a strawberry bag?”
You gave him the best glare you could manage while lying flat with your arm attempting secession. “You are supposed to be my doctor.”
Santos’s face changed. “Oh, my god. The fire alarm drill.”
“No,” you said.
“You had his jacket,” she said.
“It was cold.”
“No.” Santos pointed, too delighted to stop herself. “He put it around your shoulders before you asked.”
Dana’s gaze sharpened with recognition.
Santos nodded hard. “And took your clipboard so you could get your arms through the sleeves.”
Princess looked at Robby. “You knew?”
Robby held up one hand. “I was at the wedding.”
The room shifted again. Javadi whispered, “There was a wedding?”
You stared at the ceiling. “I’m starting to think day shift needs hobbies.”
Robby looked at you, and this time his humor was gentle around the edges. “You married a night-shift attending and then wandered around this hospital accepting crustless sandwich halves like that was normal.”
“It is normal,” you replied.
“For married people,” Dana said.
Santos looked personally offended. “I am usually very good at noticing things.”
You swallowed through another pulse of pain. “Sorry my marriage was inconvenient for your brand.”
Robby pointed at you. “Pain has not made her less mean. Excellent prognostic sign.”
Princess was still looking at you like she had discovered treasure. “So Dr. Abbot is your husband.”
“Yes.”
“And he brings you coffee,” Princess added.
You inhaled. “Yes.”
“And the sandwich,” she continued.
“Yes.”
Princess’s eyebrows rose. “And the parking lot.” You closed your eyes. “I would like drugs now.”
Robby’s smile faded enough for his concern to show again. “Soon,” he said. “We’re moving.”
Then he held out his hand toward Princess. “I’ll call him.”
You looked at him. “You don’t have to.”
“I do, actually,” Robby replied.
“Why?”
Robby’s face softened around the edges, just enough that your chest hurt for reasons that had nothing to do with your shoulder.
“Because he’s going to be worried,” he said. “And if a stranger calls him, he’s going to scare somebody.”
You sighed. “Jack doesn’t scare people.”
“No,” Robby said. “But when he’s worried about you, he gets very concise.”
I Dana hummed in amusement.
You closed your eyes. “Tell him not to speed.”
Robby shook his head. “I’m not promising that.”
“Robby,” you said, trying to sound reasonable.
He sighed. “I’ll suggest moderation.”
Robby stepped a few feet away from the bed and tapped Jack’s contact. You watched him through the pain, sweat cooling at the back of your neck. He pointed at you without lowering the phone. “Try not to dislocate anything else while I’m on the phone.” The call rang once. Twice. Three times. On the fourth ring, Jack answered.
His voice came rough with sleep and irritation. “What, Robby?”
Robby glanced back at you. You were pale on the bed, jaw tight, your good hand fisted in the sheet while Dana adjusted the monitor.
“Your wife is in the ED,” Robby said. “She’s fine. I’ve got her.”
The line went silent. Then Jack’s voice came back low and awake. “What happened?”
“Right shoulder dislocation,” Robby said. “Peds incident. She caught a kid before he fell and took the force the wrong way. She’s conscious, stable, and pissed off, which I’m taking as a good sign.”
Another pause. Jack breathed out once, sharply. “Of course she caught the kid.”
“Yeah,” Robby said, softer. “That was my reaction too.”
You lifted your head an inch off the pillow. “Tell him not to speed.”
Robby looked over his shoulder. You stared back, sweaty and serious.
“She says not to speed.”
Jack was already moving. Robby could hear it through the phone: sheets, a drawer, something hitting the floor. “Tell her I’m coming.”
“Jack,” Robby said carefully.
“I heard her,” Jack said sharply.
Robby nodded once. “Good.”
“Thanks, brother. I’m on my way,” Jack replied.
Robby’s mouth softened. “Yeah,” he said.
He ended the call and came back to the side of the bed. “He’s coming.”
You let your head fall back against the pillow. “Good.” The word came out smaller than you meant it to. Robby heard that too. For a second, he was quiet.
Then he nodded to Princess. “Now give her the good stuff before she remembers she’s trying to be reasonable.”
Princess pushed medication into your IV. Warmth moved up your arm a few seconds later, strange and soft. The pain did not vanish, but the edges of the room began to loosen. The lights blurred a little. The monitor beep sounded farther away.
You blinked. “Wow.”
Santos leaned closer. “How’s that?”
You turned your head toward her slowly. “You have two faces.”
Robby’s mouth twitched. “Better?”
You inhaled. “I can still feel my skeleton making bad choices.”
“So, somewhat.” Robby grinned.
You looked toward the curtain. “Did someone tell Eli I’m not mad?”
Robby exhaled. “Yes.”
“I’m not mad,” you repeated.
“I know.”
You blinked hard. “No, but he needs to know.”
“He knows,” Robby replied gently.
You frowned. “You’re just saying that.”
“I am saying many things,” Robby said. “This one happens to be true.”
You tried to sit up. Every person in the room reacted.
Dana touched your good shoulder. “Nope. Stay back.”
“I should tell him,” you told her.
“You should keep your shoulder still,” Robby said.
You frowned at him. “You’re being bossy.” Robby shrugged. “It’s on the mug.”
“Jack has a mug that says World’s Sexiest Doctor,” you replied without thinking. The pain meds were softening things too much now. Words had started wandering into places you had not invited them.
Robby slowly turned his head. “I’m sorry. He has a what?”
You winced. “It was a joke. I got it for him when we were dating.”
Princess looked delighted. “And he kept it?”
You breathed through another pulse of pain. “He drinks out of it every morning.”
Santos stared. “Abbot drinks coffee out of a World’s Sexiest Doctor mug?”
Dana, dry as dust, added, “That explains more than I wanted it to.”
Robby pressed his fingers to his mouth like he was trying to hold in actual joy.
You glared at him. “You’re supposed to be my doctor.”
“I am,” Robby said. “And this is healing me.”
You narrowed your eyes at him. The ED lights drifted above you. Your body felt heavy against the bed, but your mind kept circling the same places. Eli crying. Your shoulder slipping. Jack coming. You blinked slowly. “Did someone tell Eli?”
Dana adjusted the blanket around your legs. “Yes.”
“Did someone tell Jack?” you asked.
Robby’s mouth twitched. “Yes.” You nodded, satisfied for exactly one second.
Then you frowned. “Which one is coming to see me?”
Robby stared at you. “What?”
“Eli or Jack?” you asked.
Princess turned toward the computer with suspicious speed. Santos looked openly delighted. Robby’s expression brightened with pure, terrible affection.
“Oh,” he said softly. “This is going to be a great drug for you.”
You frowned. “Don’t be weird.”
Robby patted the bed rail. “Try not to say anything incriminating before your husband gets here.”
Your eyes closed, but you could still hear the smile in his voice. “Jack already knows everything.”
Robby made a thoughtful sound. “Sure,” he said. “Let’s test that.”
Robby stayed beside the bed after Princess pushed the medication. One hand rested on the rail. His eyes moved from your face to the monitor, then to your shoulder, then back to your face again. He was not joking as much now.
You hated that. “Stop looking worried,” you said.
His mouth twitched, but it did not quite become a smile. “Stop giving me reasons.”
You blinked at him, the lights blurring softly around the edges. “Rude.”
“Consistent,” Robby said.
Dana adjusted the blanket over your legs, brisk yet careful. “That’s one word for it.”
The medication had made the room strange. Softer, but not kinder. The monitors sounded farther away, and the overhead lights had started to bloom at the edges. Your shoulder still hurts. Not as sharply as before, maybe, but it was there under everything, pulsing and wrong. You tried to shift away from it. Your body disagreed. “Bad,” you muttered.
Robby leaned in a fraction. “Pain?”
You shook your head. “Existence.”
He nodded once. “Fair.”
Dana checked the line of your IV, then glanced at him.
Robby’s eyes returned to yours, and something in his face softened. “Hey,” he said. “World’s Sexiest Doctor.”
You frowned. “What?”
“The mug,” Robby said, voice lighter on purpose. “You said he drinks out of it every morning.”
Your face softened before you could stop it. “He does.” Princess turned from the computer with immediate interest. Santos, who had been pretending not to hover near the foot of the bed, stopped pretending. Dana’s expression did not change, but her eyes flicked toward you.
Robby leaned one forearm against the rail. “Still can’t believe he committed to the bit.”
“It’s not a bit,” you said.
Robby’s eyebrows lifted. “No?”
You looked at him like he was missing the obvious. “It’s true.”
Santos’s mouth curved. Dana looked down at the monitor. Princess pressed her lips together like she was holding something very large behind her teeth. You blinked at the ceiling, dreamy and annoyed all at once. “He is the sexiest doctor.”
Robby drew back like you had slapped him. “Rude.”
You turned your head toward him slowly. “You’re right.”
His expression softened. “Thank you.”
“Ellis is pretty hot, too,” you murmured happily.
Robby froze. Princess made a sound and turned sharply toward the computer. Santos whispered, “Wow.”
Dana closed her eyes. Robby stared at you. “That was not the correction I was requesting.”
You considered him through the pleasant fog around your thoughts. “You have nice hair.”
Robby’s hand went to his chest. “That was devastatingly lukewarm.”
“It is nice.”
“Nice hair,” he repeated, wounded. “That’s what I get after years of friendship.”
“You’re my friend,” you said.
His expression shifted. For one second, the joke left his face. “I know.”
You watched him through the blur. “You’re a good doctor.”
Robby’s hand tightened slightly on the rail. “You’re on excellent medication.”
“I mean it.”
“I know,” he said, quieter.
Dana looked away first. Santos suddenly found the supply tray very interesting. Robby cleared his throat and straightened. “Okay,” he said, his voice returning to a steady tone. “Let’s get ready.”
The words landed wrong. Your smile faded. The room shifted back into medicine too quickly. Gloves. Positioning. Dana adjusting the bed. Santos watching Robby’s hands intently. Javadi standing too still by the supplies, trying to look prepared. Your stomach dropped through the medication. “Wait.” Robby looked back at you. “Yeah?”
Your good hand tightened in the sheet. “You’re doing it now?” His expression softened. “Soon.”
“No.”
Dana’s hand settled lightly near your good shoulder. Not holding you down. Just there.
Robby stepped closer. “I know.”
“No, Robby.” Your voice stayed even, but barely. “I don’t want to do it.”
Robby did not flinch. “I know you don’t.”
“I mean it.”
“I know you mean it.”
You swallowed hard, throat suddenly tight. “I don’t want it to hurt.”
Robby’s face changed again, not much, just enough to show you he hated this part too. “I’m going to be as gentle as I can.”
You frowned. “That’s what people say before they do stuff that sucks.” Santos muttered, “Accurate.”
Dana looked at her. Santos lifted both hands. “I’m validating.”
Robby ignored her and kept his eyes on you. “It is going to suck,” he said. “But the longer it stays out, the worse it’s going to feel. I want to get it back where it belongs.”
Your breathing went shallow. The medication had made everything loose except the fear. That stayed sharp. Clear. Mean. You looked toward the hallway. “Fine.” Robby waited. You glared at him, sweaty and medicated and angry enough to hide behind it. “I’ll do it if Jack is my doctor.”
The room paused. Dana looked at Robby. Princess looked at the hallway. Javadi looked like she had just realized this was not covered in any textbook.
Robby let out a slow breath. “Yeah,” he said carefully. “That’s not how this works.”
You frowned at him. “He’s a doctor.”
“He is.” Dana’s voice stayed calm beside you. “He’s also your husband.”
You looked at her like she had helped your case. “Exactly.” Robby’s mouth twitched despite himself.
Before he could answer, Jack’s voice cut through the department. “Where is she?”
Your head turned. Completely. All the thoughts in your brain scattered like startled birds. Jack was halfway down the hall, moving fast and trying not to look like he was moving fast, a hoodie under his unzipped jacket. His hair was sleep-rough on one side. His jaw was tight, his eyes already searching, already locked on the room. The second he saw you, his pace changed.
Your good hand lifted off the sheet. “That one.”
Robby followed your gaze. For the first time since the reduction tray came out, true humor broke through his worry. “Oh,” he said softly. “Okay.”
Jack stepped into the bay. You pointed at him, certain now. “I want that one.”
Jack froze for half a second. His eyes moved over you. Face. IV. Monitor. Shoulder. Robby. Dana. Back to your face.
Then he was at your side. “Baby.”
The word hit the room like a dropped instrument. Santos stared very hard at the floor. Princess pressed her lips together. Javadi’s eyes went wide, then wider, like she was watching hospital folklore become sentient.
You smiled up at him. “Hi.”
Jack took your good hand, his palm warm and familiar around yours. “Hi.”
His thumb moved once over your knuckles. You exhaled. You felt it happen before you could stop it. Your shoulders did not relax, not really, but your breathing changed. Your grip loosened from the sheet. The sharp edge of panic moved back by an inch.
Robby saw it. His eyes flicked to the monitor, then to Jack’s hand. “Interesting.”
Jack did not look away from you. “Don’t.”
“I’m observing.”
“You observe too loudly.”
Robby’s mouth curved. “I am her physician.”
Jack’s jaw tightened. “You are enjoying being her physician too much.”
“I was worried,” Robby said.
The joke thinned for a second. Jack looked up. Robby held his gaze. “Still am.”
Jack’s face shifted.
You squeezed his hand. “Don’t do serious faces.”
Jack looked back down at you. His thumb moved again. “Sorry.”
You studied him, hazy and affectionate. “You came.”
“Of course I came.”
You turned your head toward Dana, solemn and proud. “I picked that one.”
Dana’s mouth twitched. “So I’m hearing.”
Jack closed his eyes. “What did you give her?”
“Pain control,” Robby said. “Not enough to explain all of this.”
You tugged lightly on Jack’s hand. “He’s being rude.”
Jack looked at Robby. “Stop being rude.”
Robby pointed at him. “You weren’t even here.”
“I believe my wife.”
Princess turned toward the computer again, but not fast enough to hide her smile.
Santos murmured, “That was hot.”
Dana said, “Santos.”
“What? It was,” Santos replied with a shrug.
Jack ignored all of them and leaned closer to you. “How bad?”
“Bad.”
His face softened. “Yeah?”
You nodded, then regretted it. “Don’t let me do head stuff.”
“I won’t,” Jack promised.
You frowned. “Having a head is bad.”
“I’ll make a note,” Jack said with a soft smile.
Robby stepped closer to your injured side. “Okay,” he said. “We’re going to try Cunningham.”
“No.” Your response was immediate.
Jack’s hand tightened around yours. Robby did not react like the word surprised him. “I know.”
“No, I don’t want Cunningham. It sounds smug,” you told him.
Robby’s brow raised. “It’s a reduction technique, not a man at a country club.”
You frowned at him. “Still smug.”
Jack’s thumb brushed your knuckles. “Look at me.”
You turned your eyes back to him. “No.”
Jack’s eyes softened. “You’re already doing it.”
You glared. “That’s annoying.”
His mouth almost smiled. “I know.”
Robby looked between you and Jack. Then his eyes moved to the monitor again. A thought entered his face.
Jack saw it immediately. “No.”
Robby blinked. “I didn’t say anything.”
Dana adjusted the bed so you were sitting up more, angled slightly back against the raised mattress. The movement sent a pain-sparking sensation down your arm. “Fuck.” Your eyes squeezed shut. “Fuck, this is worse than my fucking IUD insertion.”
The room went silent. Jack’s thumb stilled against your hand. “Okay,” he said carefully.
You opened your eyes and glared at the ceiling. “I thought I knew pain. I was wrong.”
Dana’s mouth twitched near the monitor. Princess turned very deliberately toward the computer.
Jack leaned closer. “Baby.”
“No.” You turned your glare on him. “This is your fault.”
His brows pulled together. “My fault?”
“Yes.”
Jack blinked once. “How is this my fault?”
“Because,” you said, furious and medicated, “if it wasn’t for you, I wouldn’t know this was worse.”
Robby looked up. Jack did not move.
“I was doing fine,” you continued. “I was in my celibate phase. I was at peace.”
Jack’s face changed by exactly one dangerous millimeter. “You were not at peace.”
“I was close.” Your eyes narrowed. “Then you came along with your stupid handsome face and your stupid arms, and then I got the stupid IUD, and I thought that was pain. But no.”
Robby nodded slowly. “That is a clinically fascinating chain of blame.”
Jack did not look away from you. “So your shoulder hurts because I’m handsome.”
Dana did not look away from the monitor. “Do not repeat Mrs. Abbot.” Your face softened immediately.
Jack noticed. His eyes dropped back to yours, something warm cutting through the mortification. “What?”
You blinked up at him, drug-soft and suddenly pleased. “She called me Mrs. Abbot.”
Jack’s thumb moved once over your hand. “Yeah, baby.”
A small smile pulled at your mouth. “That’s me.”
Robby looked from you to Dana. Dana adjusted the pulse ox cord with perfect neutrality. “What?”
“You’re enjoying this,” Robby said.
“I am maintaining room discipline.”
“You called her Mrs. Abbot.”
Dana’s mouth barely moved. “That is her name.” Your smile widened.
Jack looked at Dana, then back at you, and his face softened despite himself. Dana glanced at the monitor. “See? Therapeutic.” Robby’s eyes dropped to Jack’s sleeve.
Jack saw it happen. “No.”
Robby smiled. “I didn’t say anything.”
Jack’s eyes narrowed. “You looked at my sleeve.”
“Clinically,” Robby replied.
Jack shook his head. “Absolutely not.”
You blinked up at Jack, still angry, still hazy, still betrayed by the entire medical system. “He does have nice forearms.”
Jack stared at the ceiling. Robby nodded toward Jack’s arm. “Roll up your sleeve.”
Jack looked at him. “Excuse me?”
“She’s tensing.”
Jack gave Robby a look. “You want me to roll up my sleeves.”
“I want patient compliance,” Robby corrected.
Jack looked at Dana. Dana glanced at the monitor, then at you. “It would probably help.”
Jack’s face went flat. “Not you too.”
Dana shrugged. “I’m practical.”
Robby looked delighted. “See? Medicine.”
Jack exhaled through his nose, then dragged one sleeve of his hoodie up his forearm. Your eyes followed the movement immediately. You hated yourself a little. Not enough to look away. His forearm flexed as he pushed the fabric past his elbow, tendons shifting under skin, the veins at his wrist standing out when his fingers curled once around the bed rail. Your mouth went soft.
Robby pointed at you. “There.”
Jack’s eyes cut to him. “Do not point at my wife while she’s objectifying me.”
“I am pointing at a response to treatment,” Robby replied with glee.
You looked at Jack’s arm. “Treatment is good.”
Princess made a strangled sound. Javadi stared straight ahead like a resident determined to survive rounds with her soul intact.
Jack leaned closer to you. “You are making this very difficult.”
You blinked. “Me?”
“You.” His thumb brushed your cheek. “Very stubborn. Very pretty. Extremely bad at being a patient.”
The giggle came before you could stop it. Soft. Helpless. Embarrassing. Jack’s eyes warmed. Robby looked like he had just discovered a new antibiotic. “Oh, that’s excellent.”
Jack did not look away from you. “Ignore him.”
“You think I’m pretty,” you said.
“I married you,” Jack replied.
“That’s not an answer.”
His mouth curved. “Yes, baby. I think you’re pretty.”
You melted. Completely. It was humiliating. It was also his fault. Robby adjusted your injured arm, careful and slow, guiding your hand toward his shoulder. The position made pain spark hot and immediate. “No.” You tried to pull back. “No, fuck this.”
Jack’s face sharpened. Robby’s tone stayed calm. “I need thirty seconds.”
“I don’t want thirty seconds,” you said, frowning.
Robby’s expression softened, “I know.”
“No, I want that one to do it,” you said, looking from Robby to Jack.
Jack leaned closer. “You have that one.”
“I want that one to doctor me.” Your lower lip jutted out.
Robby, far too cheerful, said, “We’ve covered the conflict of interest.”
You frowned at him. “Sexy doctor husband.”
Jack looked at Robby. “Fix her shoulder.”
Robby looked at Jack’s hoodie. Jack saw it. His whole body went still. “No.”
Robby lifted both hands. “I didn’t say anything.” Jack stared at him.
Robby smiled. “She responded well to forearm.”
“Forearm is not a drug,” Jack shot back.
Robby shrugged. “It is today.”
Jack dragged a hand down his face. “Fuck me.”
You, who had been blinking hazily at the ceiling, turned your head with alarming speed. “Yes.”
The room stopped. Completely. Jack’s hand froze halfway down his face. “No.”
You frowned, offended. “Rude.”
Princess turned toward the computer with the focus of a woman fighting for her life. Santos stared at the floor, shoulders shaking.
Dana checked the monitor. “Heart rate response noted.”
Jack looked at her. “Dana.”
She did not look up. “I report data.”
Robby pressed his lips together. “For the record, that was the fastest she’s oriented to verbal stimulus since the medication.”
You reached weakly for Jack’s hand. “Sexy doctor husband.”
Jack looked down at you. Your eyes were glassy from medication and pain, your good hand tight around his, your face still trying so hard to stay mad because scared was too vulnerable, and both of you knew it. His irritation lost some of its shape. “Fine,” he muttered. Robby brightened. Jack glared at him. “Don’t look so happy.”
“I’m a scientist observing results,” Robby replied, delighted.
Jack stood beside the bed and reached back, fingers catching the sweatshirt at the back of his neck. Your eyes locked onto the movement. He pulled it over his head in one smooth drag, the hem catching for half a second on the white T-shirt underneath. The shirt stretched across his chest and shoulders when he lifted his arms. His biceps shifted under the fabric. His forearms flexed as he dragged the sweatshirt free.
The room went very quiet. You stared. Completely gone. Jack paused with the sweatshirt in one hand. Just for a second. Long enough to let you look. His mouth tilted, barely. “Better?”
You nodded slowly. “Wow.”
Robby made a sound that might have been spiritual.
Jack dropped back into the chair beside you and took your hand again. “Eyes on me.”
You obeyed immediately. “Sexy doctor husband.”
Jack closed his eyes. “Good Lord.”
Robby looked at the monitor, then at Jack. “That was outstanding.”
Robby grinned. “You removed clothing, and her heart rate stabilized.”
“That is not what happened,” Jack replied with a sigh.
Dana glanced at the monitor. “It sort of is.” Jack looked betrayed. “Dana.”
She shrugged. “I report data.”
Robby gestured toward you, far too pleased with the entire clinical situation. “Magic Mike: ED Edition.”
Jack’s head snapped up. “No.”
Robby’s grin spread slowly. “I don’t know, brother. You danced at your wedding. Pretty risky, if memory serves.”
Jack’s stare went flat. “Robby.”
“There was a certain Eminem song involved,” Robby continued.
Your head turned on the pillow. “Shake That.”
Jack closed his eyes. “Do not help him.”
Robby pointed at you, delighted. “That’s the one.”
Dana looked up from the monitor. “You danced to ‘Shake That’ at your wedding?”
“No,” Jack said immediately.
You turned toward him with surprising speed. “Jack.”
His eyes opened. “Baby.”
Your brow furrowed, “Don’t you dare deny that.”
Princess pressed both lips together and turned toward the computer as if it had suddenly become fascinating. Santos stared between you and Jack, openly thrilled. You lifted your good hand as much as the IV allowed and pointed at him. “That moment changed my brain chemistry.”
Jack looked toward the ceiling. “Good Lord.”
Robby nodded solemnly. “For the record, I was there. It changed several people’s brain chemistry.”
Jack’s head turned slowly. “You cried during the father-daughter dance.”
“You and your wife offended decent people everywhere with that dance,” Robby said.
You nodded, glassy-eyed and completely unashamed. “Yep. My grandma left.”
Jack looked down at you, horror flickering across his face. “Your grandmother left?”
You blinked up at him. “You didn’t know that?”
“No,” Jack said. “I did not know that.”
“She came back for cake,” you added.
Jack looked at you. “That does not make it better.”
Robby’s grin widened. “I’m just saying. It was a lot of wedding.”
Jack’s eyes cut to him. “You ended that night with half your shirt unbuttoned because a bridesmaid took your tie off with her teeth.”
Santos’s head snapped up. “With her teeth?”
Dana did not look away from the monitor. “Do not repeat wedding lore.”
Princess turned from the computer, delighted. “Did he go home with her?”
Robby pointed sharply at your shoulder. “We have a patient.”
Jack’s mouth curved, barely. “He did.”
Robby stared at him. “Betrayal.”
Jack shrugged. “You started this.”
“I started a medical discussion,” Robby defended.
Jack narrowed his eyes. “You called me Magic Mike.”
Robby frowned. “In a medical context.”
You looked between them, soft and dreamy now, the medication turning the memory warm around the edges. “It was perfect.”
Jack’s expression shifted. “Our wedding?”
You nodded. “You danced. I danced. Robby got slutty.”
Robby pointed at you. “For the record, ‘Robby got slutty’ is not medically relevant.”
Your eyes drifted back to Jack. You studied him for one long, medicated second. “You got slutty.”
Jack’s brows lifted. “I did not.”
You gave him a look. “Tell that to your hips.” You kept looking at Jack, still dreamy and deeply serious. “And hands.”
Jack closed his eyes again.
Santos made a tiny sound. “He got slutty.”
Dana did not look away from the monitor. “Do not repeat Mrs. Abbot.”
Your face softened immediately. Jack noticed. Of course, he noticed. His thumb moved once over your hand. “She called me Mrs. Abbot.”
“I heard,” Jack said, quieter now.
A small smile pulled at your mouth. “That’s me.” Jack’s expression softened before he could stop it.
Robby looked from you to Dana. “You’re enjoying this.”
Dana adjusted the pulse ox cord with perfect neutrality. “I am maintaining room discipline.”
Jack looked at you slowly. He looked down at you, and something in his expression changed. Not embarrassed now. Worse. Amused. “You know, baby,” he said, voice low, “I didn’t hear you complaining that night.”
Your mouth parted. For one blessed second, the medication actually managed to quiet you.
Robby looked delighted. “Oh, that worked.”
Jack did not look away from you. “Don’t.”
You blinked up at Jack, soft and glassy-eyed and deeply sincere. “I was thoroughly enjoying it.”
Dana closed her eyes. Princess turned fully toward the computer.
Robby pressed a hand to his chest. “That is a lot of marriage for a workplace.”
Jack’s jaw flexed, but his thumb moved over your hand again. “Trouble.”
You smiled faintly. “You started it.”
Robby pointed at Jack. “She’s right.”
Jack looked at him. “You started it.” Robby nodded. “Also true. Still worth it.”
Dana adjusted the bed, then looked at both of them. “Shoulder now. Wedding crimes later.”
You frowned. “They’re not crimes if everyone had fun.”
“Your grandmother left,” Jack said.
“She came back for cake.”
Robby nodded. “Strong recovery.”
Jack looked at him. “You are done.”
Robby smiled. “Brother, I have barely begun.”
Dana’s voice cut through, calm and final. “Robby.”
Robby lifted both hands. “Shoulder now.”
Jack leaned closer to you, resigned and soft all at once. “Eyes on me, trouble.”
You looked at his white T-shirt, then his face. “I am looking,” you said. “That’s the problem.”
For half a second, he looked like he might say something that would make the entire situation worse.
Robby must have seen it coming, because he clapped once, sharp and quiet. “Okay,” he said. “Shoulder.”
Jack’s eyes stayed on yours. “You heard the man.”
You frowned at him. “I don’t like the man.”
Robby adjusted his gloves at your injured side. “The man is hurt by that.”
Dana moved closer to the bed, one hand resting near your good shoulder. “Mrs. Abbot,” she said, calm and even. “We’re going to sit you up a little more.”
Your face softened immediately. Jack saw it again. His thumb brushed over your knuckles. “You like that.”
You blinked at him. “Like what?”
His voice went quieter. “Mrs. Abbot.”
A small, helpless smile pulled at your mouth. “That’s me.”
Jack’s expression changed. Not enough for anyone else to call him out on it, maybe, but enough for you to feel warmer than the medication could explain. “Yeah, baby,” he said. “That’s you.”
Robby looked at Dana. Dana kept her face neutral. “Therapeutic,” she said.
Jack did not look away from you. “Do not note that.”
Robby shrugged. “I have a whole mental chart now.”
“Delete it,” Jack shot back.
Robby grinned. “HIPAA doesn’t apply to my thoughts.”
Dana raised the bed before Jack could answer. The motion sent your shoulder into a hot, mean pulse. Your good hand tightened around Jack’s. “Nope.”
Jack stepped in closer immediately. “I’ve got you.”
“Nope,” you said again, sharper this time. “I changed my mind.”
Robby’s voice stayed steady from your side. “You can hate it.”
“I do hate it. I hate the concept. I hate whoever invented Cunningham,” you groaned.
Robby nodded once. “Probably fair.” You went on, “I hate that his name is Cunningham.”
“It is a useful medical procedure,” Robby replied.
You turned your glare on him. “Don’t defend Cunningham to me right now.”
Jack leaned into your line of sight. “Look at me.”
You looked at him. Mostly because he was very close. Also, because the T-shirt was still doing hateful things across his chest. Jack’s eyes narrowed faintly, like he knew exactly where your attention had gone.
“My face,” he said.
You sighed. “Your face is also a problem.”
Robby glanced at the monitor. “Problem appears effective.” Jack turned his head a fraction. “Robby.”
“Data,” Dana said.
Jack gave her a betrayed look. Dana’s brows lifted. “I report it.”
Robby slid your injured hand carefully toward his shoulder. The second your arm shifted, pain sparked bright and fast down your side.
“Fuck.” Your eyes squeezed shut. “No, no, no, fuck that.”
Jack’s free hand came to your cheek. Warm palm. Steady fingers. No pressure, just contact. “Hey.”
You shook your head. “No, Jack, I really don’t—”
“I know.”
Robby paused, his hands still supporting your arm.
Jack’s thumb moved once beneath your cheekbone. “I know, sweetheart.”
You opened your eyes. His face was right there. Close enough to blur at the edges. Worried in that contained way that made your chest hurt. Soft in the places no one else knew to look.
“I don’t want it to hurt,” you whispered.
Jack’s expression gentled. “I know.” Your throat tightened. “I’m being so stupid.”
“No,” he said immediately.
Robby’s voice came from your side, quieter now. “You’re not.”
Dana’s hand stayed light near your shoulder. “You are allowed to be in pain, Mrs. Abbot.”
Your mouth trembled. That was rude of her, honestly. Using the name like that.
Jack watched your face, and something in him settled. “Be mad,” he said softly. “Swear at Robby. Insult Cunningham.”
Robby lifted one hand. “I would like to opt out of one third of that.”
Jack ignored him. “But keep looking at me.” You swallowed. “You’re bossy.”
“I know.” Jack smiled softly.
You narrowed your eyes. “You like being bossy.” His mouth curved, barely. “With you?”
Your eyes widened a little. Jack’s thumb moved along your cheek. “Yeah.”
The room went dangerously still. Robby’s face brightened. “Oh, that was good.”
Jack’s eyes cut toward him. “Do not grade me.”
“I’m not grading. I’m appreciating the technique.”
Dana looked at the monitor. “Heart rate improved.” Jack exhaled through his nose. “Good Lord.”
You stared at him, caught between pain and medication and the unfair fact of him. “Sexy doctor husband.”
His jaw flexed. “Apparently.” Robby moved your elbow another careful inch. You tensed immediately.
Jack’s hand slid from your cheek to the back of your head, fingers threading gently into your hair. “Eyes on me.”
You tried. You really did. Your gaze dropped to his mouth first.
Jack noticed. His mouth twitched. “My eyes, trouble.”
“I’m trying,” you groaned.
He smirked. “You’re doing terrible.” You made a small, offended sound.
Jack’s thumb stroked lightly at the base of your skull. “But you’re very pretty while you do it.”
A giggle escaped you before you could stop it. It came out wet, shaky, and ridiculous.
Robby froze. Dana glanced at the monitor. Princess made a tiny sound near the computer.
Santos looked like she might need to sit down. Jack’s eyes softened. “There she is.”
You frowned at him. “You’re flirting medically again.”
“I am not,” Jack replied.
Robby adjusted his grip on your elbow. “You are.”
Jack kept his face angled toward you. “No one asked you.”
“I did,” you said.
Jack looked back at you. “You did not.”
“I spiritually asked,” you said with a sigh.
Robby pointed at you. “She gets me.”
Jack’s hand tightened carefully at the back of your head. “That is what worries me.”
The laugh that tried to leave you broke into a gasp when Robby began working at the muscles around your shoulder.
Pain rose again, deep and threatening. “No,” you said, voice thin now.
Jack’s teasing vanished. Just gone. His face steadied. “Breathe with me.”
“I don’t want to breathe.”
He raised a brow. “Do it anyway.” You frowned. “That’s mean.”
“I know,” Jack agreed.
“Fuck, Jack.”
His eyes held yours. “I’ve got you.”
Robby’s voice came low and focused. “Good. Just like that. Try not to fight me.”
You turned your eyes toward him in outrage. “Try not to fight you?”
Jack’s hand at the back of your head guided you back. “Me.”
You sucked in a breath. “Robby is saying stupid things.”
“I know.” Jack nodded.
“I can hear you,” Robby said.
Jack’s thumb swept once under your eye. “Ignore him.”
“He’s touching my shoulder,” you said, miserable.
Jack tilted his head closer to you. “Because he’s fixing it.”
“I don’t like him,” you said with a frown.
Jack smiled softly at you. “You love him.”
“Not right now,” you said, brows furrowed.
Robby nodded without looking up. “Temporary friendship suspension. Accepted.”
Dana looked at you. “Hold still, Mrs. Abbot.”
The name hit exactly where it had before. Your breathing hitched, but this time it hitched softer.
Jack saw it. Robby saw it. Dana absolutely saw it. Robby looked at Dana. “You’re good.”
Dana didn’t look away from the monitor. “I know.” Jack leaned closer. “You’re doing good.”
You stared at him. “I am?”
“Yeah,” he replied.
Your eyes burned. “I’m making this difficult.” Jack nodded once. “You’re scared.”
“I’m swearing,” you continued.
He shrugged a shoulder. “I’ve heard worse.”
“I told everyone about our wedding crimes.” Your lower lip wobbled.
His mouth moved like he was fighting a smile. “That one we’ll discuss later.”
“You got slutty.”
Jack closed his eyes. “Not now.” Robby’s shoulders shook once.
Jack’s eyes opened. “Do not laugh during my wife’s reduction.”
Robby’s expression snapped back into focus. “Guilty.”
Pain flared again, sharper this time, and your whole body tried to pull away.
Jack’s hand held steady at the back of your head. Not forcing you. Keeping you with him. “Look at me.”
You blinked away tears. “I am.”
“No.” His voice dropped. “Really look.”
You did.
His eyes were dark and close and worried. His thumb moved against your cheek, slow and sure.
“There you go,” he murmured. “Stay right there.”
Your breath shook. “This fucking sucks.”
“I know,” Jack murmured.
You went on. “Cunningham is a bad man.”
“Probably.” Jack nodded with a soft smile.
Robby glanced up. “Cunningham did not personally do this to you.”
You glared at him through tears. “He knows what he did.” Robby nodded. “I’ll allow it.”
Jack’s mouth brushed the edge of a smile.
You caught it. Even through pain. Even through fear. Even through the medication making the room swim around the edges. “You’re laughing.”
“I’m not,” Jack replied.
You glared at him. “You are.”
“Only because you’re mean on drugs,” he said, smiling softly at you.
You inhaled sharply. “I’m allowed to be mean right now.”
“Yeah,” Jack said, impossibly soft. “You are.”
Robby’s hands shifted. The pressure changed. Your body knew before your brain did.
You went rigid. “No.” Jack’s face sharpened. “Baby.”
“No, no, no, I don’t want—” You shook your head despite the pain.
His hand cupped your face more firmly. “Look at me.” Your eyes found his. “I am looking.”
“Good,” Jack said, his voice low and steady.
Your eyes burned as you stared up at him. “Jack.”
His hand stayed firm at the back of your head, fingers threaded carefully into your hair. “I’ve got you.”
You swallowed hard, trying not to pull away from Robby’s hands. “I hate this.”
“I know.” Jack’s thumb moved along your cheek.
Your breath hitched, half pain and half panic. “I hate your stupid face for helping.”
His mouth curved just enough to ruin you. “Use it.”
“What?”
“My stupid face.” His thumb brushed beneath your eye. “Look at it instead of your shoulder.”
You stared at him. “I hate that that works.”
“I know,” Jack murmured.
You glared at him. “Your face is medically annoying.” Robby murmured, “Groundbreaking terminology.”
Jack did not look away from you. “Not now.”
Robby’s hands shifted again. You felt the pressure build. Slow, careful, awful.
Jack saw you brace. Of course he did. His voice dropped. “Be good for me.”
Your face went soft immediately. “Oh, that’s unfair.”
Jack’s thumb brushed beneath your eye. “I know.”
“You’re cheating.” You tried to glare at him, but the medication and his hand in your hair made it a weak attempt.
His mouth curved, barely there and deeply unrepentant. “I know.”
Robby, without missing a beat, said, “Cheating is medically allowed right now.”
Jack’s jaw flexed. “Do it now.”
For one suspended second, there was only Jack’s face, his hand in your hair, his thumb on your cheek, and Robby’s steady pressure on your arm.
Then the joint shifted. Not violently. Not with a dramatic crack.
Just a deep, sickening slide, followed by sudden release. You gasped.
The wrongness vanished all at once. Your whole body folded toward Jack on a broken little sob.
He caught you carefully, one hand still cradling your head, the other braced at your good shoulder. “I’ve got you,” he said immediately. “I’ve got you.”
Robby exhaled. “Shoulder’s back.”
You breathed hard against Jack’s white T-shirt, your face pressed into the warmth of his chest, tears leaking more from relief than pain now. “Holy shit.”
Jack’s mouth brushed your hair before he seemed to remember there were witnesses. “Yeah.”
“That was awful,” you breathed, tears falling.
Jack kissed your head. “I know.” You turned your face enough to look up at him. “You were helpful.”
His expression softened. “Yeah?”
You nodded, still floating, still furious, still very much on drugs. “Sexy doctor husband.”
Robby pulled off his gloves with great satisfaction. “For the record, Cunningham with targeted husband exposure: wildly effective.”
Jack did not look away from you. “Document that and die.”
Robby smiled. “Brother, this is medicine now.”
You blinked up at Jack, wet-eyed and dazed. “I picked that one.”
The room went quiet around the softness in your voice. Jack’s thumb moved once along your cheek. “Yeah,” he said. “You did.”
You stared at him for another long, drug-soft second. “I picked good.”
His face changed. Not a lot. Enough. “Yeah, baby,” he said quietly. “You did.”
Robby pressed a hand to his chest. “I need everyone to know I am handling this with incredible maturity.”
Dana looked at him. “You are not.”
“No,” Robby agreed. “But I almost did.”
Jack’s hand stayed against the side of your face for another second before he seemed to remember the rest of the room existed.
“Post-reduction films?” he asked, glancing toward Robby.
Robby pulled his gloves off and dropped them into the trash. “Already ordered.” Jack nodded once.
Robby gave him a look as he stepped back to your injured side. “Neurovascular was intact before. Checking again now.”
“I know you are,” Jack said.
Robby lifted his brows. “Do you?” Jack’s mouth flattened. “I’m standing right here.”
“Great,” Robby said. “Then stand there husbandly and let me be her doctor.”
You turned your head slowly against Jack’s palm. “You’re both doctors.”
Robby leaned closer, careful as he checked your hand. “Only one of us is currently allowed to practice medicine on you.”
You looked at Jack. “I vote that one.” Jack closed his eyes. “Baby.”
Robby did not look up from your fingers. “Your vote has been received and rejected by the ethics committee.”
You frowned at him. “I don’t like the ethics committee.”
“The ethics committee is me,” Robby said.
You blinked at him. “That tracks.”
Santos made a tiny sound near the foot of the bed. Dana glanced at her. Santos pressed her lips together and looked at the floor.
Robby touched your fingers gently. “Can you wiggle these for me?” You wiggled them.
Robby nodded. “Good. Any numbness or tingling?”
You stared at him, still dazed. “Just in my dignity.”
“That is not innervated by the axillary nerve,” Robby said.
You blinked. “Show-off.”
Jack’s thumb moved over your cheek again. The motion was small. Your body noticed anyway.
Robby saw that too, because of course he did, but for once he did not comment.
Dana adjusted the sling on the tray beside the bed. “We’ll get her immobilized once Robby’s done checking you,” she said. Jack’s attention shifted to the sling. His jaw tightened by a fraction.
You saw it even through the medication. “You’re doing the face.”
Jack looked back down at you. “What face?”
“The face,” you said.
Robby glanced over. “Oh, I know the face.” Jack did not look at him. “No one asked you.”
Robby’s voice stayed light, but not careless. “It’s the face he makes when he wishes he could make it easier for you.”
Jack went quiet. So did you. Your fingers tightened around his. “You did,” you said.
Jack looked down at you. “What?” Your smile was small and drug-soft. “You made it easier.”
His thumb moved once over your hand. “Yeah?”
You nodded, eyes glassy and sincere. “Yeah. Because you’re hot. And a doctor. And smart. And sexy. And my husband. And I love you.”
The room went very still. Jack’s face softened all at once.
Then you added, very seriously, “And you’re hot.”
Robby’s mouth opened. Dana looked at the monitor like it had become essential to her survival.
Jack brushed his thumb over your knuckles. “Is that all?”
You blinked up at him, exhausted and earnest. “No.” His mouth curved. “No?”
You shook your head once, barely. “But I’m tired and drugged.”
Jack’s expression warmed into something painfully fond. “Okay, baby.”
Robby pressed a hand to his chest. You swallowed, the edges of the room still warm and watery.
“And Eli?”
Robby’s expression gentled before the joke could get there.
“Megan called down while we were getting the films ordered. He’s okay.”
You stared at him. “She told him?”
“She told him,” Robby said. “His mom told him. He knows you’re not mad.”
You blinked hard. Jack’s hand tightened around yours.
Robby leaned a hip lightly against the counter, his voice quieter now. “He drew you a picture.”
Your throat closed. “He did?”
“Apparently it’s you with a cape,” Robby said.
Princess smiled from the computer. “And a very large arm.”
You made a sound that tried to be a laugh and almost became something else. “Is it anatomically correct?”
Robby looked at Princess. Princess shook her head. “Not even close.” You closed your eyes. “Good.”
Jack brushed his thumb over your knuckles.
Your eyes burned again, but softer this time. “He doesn’t think I’m mad?”
Robby shook his head. “He thinks you’re a superhero.”
You went very still. Jack felt your hand tighten around his. Then your face crumpled. “Oh, no.”
Jack leaned in immediately. “Baby?” Your eyes filled too fast for you to stop them. “I’m leaking.”
Jack’s expression softened all at once. “You’re crying.”
“I know.” Your mouth trembled. “I don’t want to.”
“That’s okay,” he murmured.
You shook your head. “It’s embarrassing.”
“No, it isn’t,” Jack replied, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead.
You sniffled. “It is in front of the day shift.”
Robby’s face softened from the counter. “Day shift can handle feelings.”
Santos looked suspiciously focused on the floor. Princess turned toward the computer, blinking too much.
Dana adjusted the sling on the tray without looking up. “Mrs. Abbot,” she said evenly, “day shift has seen worse.”
Your smile wobbled through the tears. “She called me Mrs. Abbot.”
Jack’s thumb brushed beneath your eye, catching a tear before it reached your cheek. “Yeah, baby.”
You looked up at him, wet-eyed and overwhelmed. “He thinks I’m a superhero.”
Jack’s face changed. Not a lot. Enough to make you cry harder. “He’s right.”
Your chin trembled. “Jack.”
“He is,” Jack said, voice low. “You protected him.”
A tear slipped hot down your cheek. “I scared him.”
“You helped him.”
The words landed so gently that they hurt. You made a broken little sound and tried to wipe your face with your good hand, but Jack caught your fingers before you could tug at the IV.
“I’ve got it.” He brushed another tear away with his thumb.
You sniffed. “I’m leaking a lot.”
His mouth softened. “I know.”
You exhaled. “I hate this drug.”
“No, you don’t.” He smiled gently.
You thought about it, tears still sliding down your cheeks. “I kind of love this drug.”
Robby nodded from the counter. “There she is.”
Jack did not look away from you. “Let her leak.”
Dana smiled gently. “Mrs. Abbot,” she said, crisp and even, “I’m going to help support your arm while we get this situated.”
Your eyes opened the rest of the way. A smile pulled at your mouth immediately, even through the tears.
Jack looked down at you. “There it is.” You blinked at him. “What?”
He brushed one knuckle lightly along your jaw. “That smile.”
You looked toward Dana, pleased and hazy. “She called me Mrs. Abbot again.”
Dana did not look up from the sling. “That is your name.”
Robby pointed at her. “You’re doing it on purpose.” Dana kept her hands steady. “I am doing my job.”
“You are weaponizing legal marriage,” Robby said.
Dana fitted the strap carefully behind your neck. “I am supporting patient cooperation.”
You sighed happily. “It is working.”
Jack’s mouth twitched. “Clearly.”
Dana adjusted the sling around your injured arm. “This may pull a little.” Your smile vanished.
Jack saw it instantly. “Hey.”
“Nope,” you said.
His hand found your good one again. “Look at me.”
You frowned. “I already did that.”
“Do it again.”
You looked at him.
His eyes stayed steady on yours while Dana adjusted the last strap. There was a brief tug, a hot little spark of discomfort, and then your arm was held against you, supported and still.
You exhaled shakily. Jack’s thumb brushed once over your hand. “There you go.”
You swallowed. “I swore a lot.”
Jack’s mouth softened. “You were allowed.”
You leaned and whispered poorly. “In front of Dana.”
Dana stepped back from the sling. “I’ve heard worse, Mrs. Abbot.” Your smile came back immediately.
Jack glanced at Dana. “Therapeutic.”
Dana picked up the chart. “Accurate.”
Robby checked the sling with a quick glance, then nodded to Dana. “Looks good.”
Dana stepped back. “It’ll do until ortho tells her the same thing in a more expensive voice.”
Princess laughed under her breath. Santos rocked back on her heels.
“So she’s going home?” Santos asked.
Jack looked at Robby before Robby could answer, the same question reflected in his eyes
Robby lifted his brows. “You asking as her husband or as the night attending who has forgotten he is not on shift?”
Jack stared at him. “Husband.”
Robby smiled. “Good choice.”
Jack’s jaw flexed. “Robby.”
“We’ll watch her a bit after the follow-up films, make sure pain is controlled, then yes,” Robby said. “Home. Ice. Sling. Ortho follow-up. No lifting. No heroic catching of children for a while.”
You frowned at him. “That feels targeted.”
“It is,” Robby confirmed.
Your frown deepened. “Eli was falling.”
“And you caught him,” Robby said. “And now your shoulder is in a sling.”
You looked away. Jack’s voice softened. “You did good.”
You looked back up at him. “I broke myself.”
Jack shook his head. “You protected him.”
You pressed your lips together. “That sounds like something you say when I broke myself.”
Jack held your gaze. “It can be both.”
You considered him through the medication. “You’re very pretty when you’re reasonable.”
Robby made a wounded sound. “Not this again.”
Jack did not look away from you. “Thank you.”
Your smile went soft. “Sexy doctor husband.”
Jack lowered his head for half a second like he was gathering strength.
Dana picked up the chart. “Do not repeat Mrs. Abbot.”
Santos closed her mouth so fast her teeth clicked.
Princess turned toward the computer, shoulders shaking. Robby looked between Dana and the monitor.
“Therapeutic and preventative.”
Dana’s eyes flicked to him. “Exactly.”
Jack gave her a long look. “I don’t know whether to thank you or be concerned.”
“Both is usually safest,” Dana said.
A little while later, after the films confirmed what Robby already knew, after Princess brought discharge paperwork, after Santos was banished from asking any more questions about the wedding, the room finally thinned out.
Dana left with one last check of your sling and one more calm, devastating, “Take it easy, Mrs. Abbot.”
You smiled so hard your eyes closed.
Jack watched Dana go, then looked down at you. “She did that on purpose.”
You leaned into the pillow. “She likes me.”
“She likes making me suffer,” Jack said.
You nodded solemnly. “People contain multitudes.” Jack huffed a quiet laugh.
Robby came back with the discharge papers and a pen. “Okay,” he said. “Because apparently I am the only person in this room still committed to medicine.”
Jack was sitting beside your bed now, his sweatshirt back on, one hand wrapped around yours. “You loved every second of this.”
Robby held up the paperwork. “I loved several medically relevant seconds of this.”
“You called me Magic Mike,” Jack said.
Robby nodded. “In a medically relevant context.”
“You threatened to chart targeted husband exposure,” Jack added.
“I still might,” Robby said.
Jack stared at him. Robby smiled. “I won’t.”
“You better not,” Jack warned.
“I’ll save it for the group chat,” Robby said with a shrug.
Jack’s expression went blank. “There is no group chat.”
Robby looked at you. “He thinks there’s no group chat.”
You turned to Jack, horrified. “You think there’s no group chat?”
Jack looked between you and Robby. “I hate this family.”
Your smile went dreamy. “You said family.”
Robby’s expression softened before he covered it with a cough.
Jack looked down at your joined hands. “I did.”
The air warmed around that. For one second, nobody ruined it.
Then Robby clicked the pen. “Anyway,” he said. “Sling stays on. Ice twenty minutes at a time. Pain meds as prescribed, not as creatively interpreted by the patient. Ortho follow-up within the week. No work until cleared.”
You opened your eyes. “No work?” Jack’s hand tightened.
Robby looked at you. “No work.”
“But peds is short,” you replied.
“Peds will survive,” Robby said.
You frowned. “You don’t know that.”
Robby leaned closer, his sarcasm gone soft around the edges. “I know you cannot care for children with a freshly reduced shoulder.”
You looked at Jack for backup. Jack shook his head. “No.”
“You didn’t even let me ask,” you said, brows furrowed.
Jack just gave you a look. “I know where you were going.”
“You always know where I’m going,” you sighed.
Jack shrugged. “Usually because it’s somewhere you shouldn’t.” Robby nodded. “Marriage.”
You sighed again and let your head fall back against the pillow. “This is oppressive.”
“This is discharge planning,” Robby said.
“Oppressive discharge planning,” you mumbled.
Jack stood slowly, keeping hold of your hand. You looked up at him. “We’re leaving?”
He nodded. “Soon.”
“Are you taking me home?” you asked, hopefully.
His expression softened. “Yeah, baby.”
Your whole face relaxed. “Good. I want that one.”
Robby pressed the paperwork to his chest. “She’s still doing it.”
Jack took the papers from him. “She’s on medication.”
He folded the paperwork and tucked it into his jacket pocket.
Robby watched him for a moment, the humor easing out of his face. “You good to get her home?”
Jack looked at you. You were blinking slowly, exhausted now, the adrenaline finally draining out of your body.
His voice gentled. “Yeah.”
Robby nodded. “Call me if anything changes.”
Jack met his eyes. “I will.”
The two men looked at each other for half a second longer than the words required.
You noticed even through the fog. “You two are having feelings.”
Robby looked down at you. “We are absolutely not.”
Jack’s mouth twitched. “No feelings.”
“Lies,” you murmured.
Robby pointed at you. “Pain meds have made her too powerful.”
Jack helped you sit up carefully. The room tilted as soon as you moved. You made a small sound and grabbed for him with your good hand.
He was already there. One arm came around your waist, careful not to jostle the sling, his body solid beside yours. “I’ve got you.”
You leaned into him. “I know.”
That seemed to hit him somewhere. His hand spread warm at your side. Robby stepped closer, but Jack had you steady.
“Slow,” Jack said.
“I am slow,” you grumbled.
The room tilted. You caught Jack’s shirt with your good hand, and his arm came around your waist before you could wobble any farther.
His mouth twitched. “That’s why I said go slow.”
You rolled your eyes. “Smartass.”
Robby nodded from beside the bed. “Fair assessment.” Jack shot him a look.
“Supportive environment,” Robby said.
Jack eased you carefully off the bed. Your knees felt uncertain, and the room stayed too bright, but his arm held you steady.
Dana reappeared at the curtain like she had sensed movement. “You good?”
Jack nodded. “I’ve got her.”
Dana looked at you. “Mrs. Abbot?”
Your smile came back, sleepy and immediate.
“I’m good.”
Dana’s mouth barely moved. “Clearly.”
Robby narrowed his eyes at her. “You did it again.”
Dana checked the hallway. “I don’t know what you mean.”
“You absolutely do.”
Jack adjusted his hold at your waist. “Can we leave before anyone learns anything else about my wedding?”
Princess, still at the computer, lifted one finger. “I have follow-up questions.”
“No,” Jack said.
Santos leaned against the counter. “I have several.”
Jack shook his head. “Absolutely not.”
Robby grinned. “I have photos.”
Jack went still. You gasped softly. “You have photos?”
Robby’s grin widened. “And videos.”
Jack pointed at him. “Delete them.”
“Never,” Robby responded immediately.
“You have videos of the dance?” you asked, unable to contain your excitement.
Robby gave you a look. “You think I would witness neurological history and not document it?”
Your eyes went glassy again. “Can you send them to me?”
Jack looked down at you. “Baby.”
“What? I was there. I should have them,” you defended yourself.
Robby tapped his phone. “Already sent.”
Jack closed his eyes. “Good Lord.”
Your phone buzzed somewhere in the plastic belongings bag.
You looked up at Jack, delighted. “Brain chemistry.”
Dana held up one hand before Santos could speak. “Do not repeat Mrs. Abbot.”
Santos sighed. “I didn’t even say it.”
Dana looked at her. “You thought loudly.”
Jack shook his head and started guiding you toward the hallway. “We’re going home.”
You leaned into him, warm and sore and still floating enough that the ED lights looked like stars smeared across glass. “Home with you?”
Jack glanced down. His face softened. “Yeah.”
You smiled. “I picked good.”
This time, there were no monitors beeping too loud, no hands at your shoulder, no room full of witnesses waiting for the next outrageous thing you might say.
Just Jack’s hand at your waist, his body steady beside yours, his voice low near your ear.
♡summary: you've been best friends with trinity since you were in middle school, two peas in a pod. while she went into med school, you started a very successful band. when you come home from your 18 month world tour, trinity wants you to met her work friends, you're excited to meet all but one. samira mohan, although her and trinity are now friends, as her best friend you simply cannot get over the fact that one comment from samira made trinity spiral and doubt herself.
♡warnings/contains: poc!fem!reader, reader uses she/her pronouns. reader is a lead guitarist in a famous band. slow burn (one sided enemies to friends to lovers.) mutual yearning. established relationship (between jack and samira). age gap between jack + samria and reader (samira + reader late 20's, jack is late 40's-early 50's). for mature audiences due to explicit language and sexually mature content. this story follows both a smau and written plot. reader falls under the lgbtqia+ community but not otherwise labeled.
♡inspiration: triple match point @barnesonfilm + do i wanna know? @tresleches333
character guide
meet... lead guitarist reader
meet... samira mohan
meet... jack abbot
meet... the skeletons
bittersweet stars album lovebomb playlist
chapters
chapter one: war is over!
filler: trinity & reader
chapter two: am i the drama?
chapter three: everyone gets gay off tequila!
filler: samira mohan just doesn't get it (coming 06/20/26)
sugar mommy!baran al-hashimi x princess!reader headcanons
| series masterlist |
give mama some sugar, mama
𑣲contains: 18+ smut. black!fem!reader but anyone can read. afab!reader. usage of the words "p*ssy" and "c*nt". pet names. praise kink. mommy kink. foot fetish lowkey. obsessed!baran. softdom!baran.
sugar mommy!baran... who brought you a large bouquet of roses and rented out a private room in an expensive restaurant for your first date. she wanted your first time meeting in person to be in a quiet intimate space.
sugar mommy!baran... who asks you to accompany her to the opera. baran loves the opera and rarely has anyone to join her. she loved that she was able to take you to your first opera concert.
sugar mommy!baran... who calls you her princess because that's what you are, her pretty princess.
sugar mommy!baran... who made your first time being intimate together special. rose petal trails, candles lit, champagne on ice, chocolate covered strawberries, speechless by beyoncé playing in the background. it may seem a little cliché, but you deserved nothing but the best.
sugar mommy!baran... who was hooked on you immediately after your first time together. the next day all she could think about was tasting your sweetness again. she was ready to give you her entire life just for another taste of you. if you wanted a house, a car, the planet, she was ready to give it to you.
sugar mommy!baran... who doesn't use a strap on to fuck you because she loves to feel your walls clench onto her fingers.
"you're gripping me so tight, baby."
sugar mommy!baran... who loves to buy you expensive heels and jewelry just so you can wear them when she fucks you.
"you wore this f'me, princess?"
"yes, mommy."
"princess, you're so good to me."
if you're riding her thigh and you're wearing that pretty diamond necklace she bought you the other day, she'll loop her finger around it to pull you in and give you sloppy wet kiss.
sugar mommy!baran... who goes weak in the knees whenever you look up at her with those beautiful eyes of yours while she's knuckle deep in your sopping wet cunt.
sugar mommy!baran... who sits you in her lap after a long day in the ED and wants you to tell her all about your day. sometimes she'll pull your panties to the side and toy with your clit.
"mmhm, princess. what else did you do today?" she says as she runs her fingers through your wet folds to collect your wetness to run it over your puffy clit.
you'll be moaning and whining, and she'll still expect you to tell her every detail of your day.
"did you eat today, honey?" she asks and all you can do is nod because she is still toying at your sensitive clit. "princess, use your big girl words."
"y- yes mommy." you managed stutter out.
"good girl." she praises. "always such a good girl for mommy."
sugar mommy!baran... who wants to fund your entire lifestyle. she doesn't even want you working, she thinks a pretty girl like you shouldn't be working. you deserve to have every need met in an instant and baran does just that.
sugar mommy!baran... who moves you into a luxury high rise apartment in the same apartment building as hers. she wants you close and wants to keep eyes on you 24/7. can you blame her? you're such a sweet, pretty girl anything could happen, but she still wants you to have your own space to move around freely.
sugar mommy!baran... who loves how willingly you allow her take care of you. you don't protest when she tells you to charge anything you need to her card, even though she still gives you an allowance.
sugar mommy!baran... who takes you on those trips to turks and caicos or the maldives that you see on your tiktok for you page. she'll buy you all the cute little bikinis and dresses you want for the trip. baran can't wait to fuck your pretty little pussy while on vacation.
sugar mommy!baran... who buys outfits that she thinks will look good on you because she loves to dress you like her personal life size doll. she loves for you to give her a private fashion show to show off the new pieces she bought you.
"give mommy a twirl, princess."
sugar mommy!baran... who swears she doesn't have a foot fetish but every time she sees you in a pretty pair of heels with a fresh pedicure, she wants to lay down at your feet and kiss them.
sugar mommy!baran... who loves to talk to your pussy.
"look at her." she coos. "so pretty and so wet all f' me."
"i think she missed me, baby. she's all ready for me and so needy for my attention."
sugar mommy!baran... who gets jealous whenever you tell her that you're going out clubbing with some of your friends. the outfit you're wearing is tiny and form fitting, and it's driving baran crazy to think random people will be looking at you in that outfit.
"mommy, i promise you we're just gonna be dancing," you try to reassure her. "no funny business."
"i'll be here waiting for you. i wanna take that off you when you get home."
sugar mommy!baran... who loves when you get bratty, which is hardly ever because you're always such a sweet girl for her, but when you do, she knows how to handle you. she'll kept your hands tied to the headboard above your head because she knows how much you love to touch her during sex. she has your legs wide open and tied down as well, while she has a vibrator on high working your clit overtime.
you're so sensitive and squirming, but she doesn't listen to your whines and pleas about how sorry you are and how good you'll be for her.
"be still and take it." she commands. "if you were sorry, you wouldn't have gave me attitude, right? right, honey?"
"it's okay, princess, mommy'll get that right outta you."
sugar mommy!baran... who wants to keep you as her pretty little housewife. baran worships the ground you walk on and wants to keep you protected and taken care of. she wants you in every aspect of her life. you're her special girl, and truthfully she's grown to be obsessed with you. her perfect, sweet, and pretty girl. she wants you to have her last name and a pretty diamond on your ring finger. when she gets the chance to wife you up, she won't hesitate.
💌a/n: i thoroughly enjoyed writing sugar mommy!baran. she might make some more appearances in the near future.
( ⾕ ) warnings && summary :: trinity and baran had a really bad day at work ✶ nsfw / double penetration (r) / mean domtop!trinity / subbottom!r / soft domtop!baran / slut shaming / deepthroat / dacryphilia / garcia mentioned / things fucking / choking && slapping && biting / hair pulling / rough sex ✶ wc:: 1,2k
✉️ kinda inspired by this post
the air becomes thick and sticky, enveloping your skin. a bead of sweat trickles down your neck, adorned with a diamond necklace, slowly rolling toward the hollow between your breasts. the faint sound of shifting things fills the air around you. baran speaks softly, trinity speaks more harshly, their contrast sending shivers down your spine. placing your palms on the soft mattress, you lean forward until your back arches and you're on all fours, allowing the short fabric of your lace nightgown to reveal see—through panties with a cute bow along with the warm skin of your ass.
"see how much she wants to please us, santos? such a good girl," baran speaks first, and no matter how sweet her words are, they're completely saturated with sarcasm and cruelty you've memorized after countless nights spent together.
trinity grinned, adjusting the thick black strap on her hips that peeked out from under the red fabric of her boxers, which she hadn't bothered to take off. the toy fit perfectly in her hand as she tilted her head and spat directly on the tip, sloppily smearing the sticky fluid all over its thick length with her fingers. "more like a whore. look at her, she just wants cock. better two, hm?"
another rough laugh sent a jolt straight to your dripping pussy, so you had to bite your lip to keep from whining and fueling the fire in trinity's eyes even more.
she took a few long strides toward the bed, placing one knee next to your hands, her cock now dangling inches from your face, and god, you really wanted to touch it.
"you're not wrong. she does loves cock… and a lot of it," al—hashimi smiled softly, contrasting with the weight of the brown strap between her thighs. nine inches. she was bigger than trinity, but not so thick. you loved the difference but when santos was in a terrible mood, ready to rip your throat with her girth, you swallowed.
the mattress behind you sags as baran climbed onto the bed, her hands immediately landing on your hips, squeezing and kneading the soft flesh before leaving a painful slap that pushed your body forward, right towards trinity's cock. she grabbed your face with one hand, forcing you to focus on her face instead of the eight inches dangling dangerously close to your head.
"come on, doll, i've had too much of a fucked up day. just suck this dick like a good slut, mmm?" she talks to you like you're a little girl, lecturing you until she lets go of your chin, grabbing the base of the strap and slapping your cheek a few times, staining it with her spit, still smeared along its length. trinity does it sloppily, not roughly yet, but then her tip touches your lips, circling them a couple of times before she pushes inside, giving you a few seconds to adjust. your lips part wide around her, your jaw tenses, but neither of you cares.
"you okay?" her gaze softens for a few seconds.
instead of answering, you lean forward, swallowing more of her cock and moaning, muffled. that was all she needed to gather your hair into a makeshift ponytail and begin thrusting into your mouth, slowly at first, gradually picking up speed and roughness.
"you sound so beautiful stuffed with dick," baran finally speaks up again, grabbing the edges of your panties and pulling them down to your knees. a moment later, you feel cool liquid dripping onto your pussy, and the faint scent of strawberries wafts through the bedroom. al—hashimi hums approvingly, grasping her cock and running the blunt head over your folds, collecting precum and teasing your clit.
her lululemon jacket tickles your skin as she pushes forward, warming her cock between your thighs, allowing you to feel every vein along its length.
"mm—mmph…!" the stimulation on your clit is so sweet and intense, moans begin to build in your chest, crashing against the head of trinity's cock, hitting the back of your throat with every responding thrust of her hips.
baran bites her bottom lip, enjoying the way your pussy clenches around nothing as her strap fucks your thighs, making them even stickier and messier.
trinity notices how your back arches under baran's touch, grinning and whispering under her breath about what a slut you are and how pathetic you look.
"i bet you couldn't last a day without being filled, huh?" around that same moment, al—hashimi sighs, grabs the base of her cock, and slaps your pussy a few times, mirroring santos's actions earlier, causing you to whine on the other cock. "come on, baby, show some respect," she pushes forward smoothly, filling you in one slow motion until her tip presses against your cervix. your lips part around trinity, releasing her from your mouth, and your head falls forward as baran grips your waist tightly, picking up the pace fast enough to make your head spin.
her hips begin to slap against your ass with each thrust and you can hear her breathing become slightly ragged and shallow, her nails digging into your skin. and the fact that your forehead is now pressed to the sheets, with only loud, dirty moans escaping your lips, doesn't sit well with trinity.
"the fuck" her hand now grips your neck, tight enough to make your eyes flutter shut as you try to look at her. your mouth opened in a greedy attempt to either gulp air or reach her cock, but it looked so pathetic with how roughly al—hashimi was now fucking you, mixing your insides into mush.
"not so hungry for dick anymore, huh?" santos grabs your hair with her free hand, pushing back into your sore throat, entering so deeply that she felt every inch beneath her palm that squeezing your neck. you choke on the thickness filling your throat, trying to breathe through your nose. tears of pleasure and humiliation roll down your cheeks, spit begins to drip down your chin, dripping onto trinity's hand.
"you like this, huh—you like being fucked like that?" she chuckles, breathless, because with each thrust her clit rubs against the base of the strap, stimulating her to move more desperately, destroying your throat with her rough movements.
"god, shimi, she's so beautiful when she’s crying." santos looks up at baran, smiling, her hair sticking to her sweaty face. al—hashimi looks back at her with the same smile, pursing her lips before pushing all the way in, stretching you as far as she can, causing you to bite down on trinity's strap and moan loudly in pleasure again.
"i bet you'd love it if we'd brought garcia in here too," she removes her hand from your neck to cup your head with both hands, pushing her hips into your face until your nose brushes her lower abdomen. "you'd be so happy to have one more dick, to have every hole used, ha…"
you gag again when trinity stops completely inside you. you grab her thigh, squeezing it until she finally pulls back, giving you a few seconds to take a half-breath. baran smiles at trinity's idea, leaning forward to enter you at a new angle, deeper and more pleasurable, mixed with the way her teeth sink into the tender flesh above your shoulder blade, creating a pleasant burning sensation.
"yes, you are the perfect stress reliever after all."
thinking of jack and ranger who meet reader at the park or something. he's out on a jog or just taking Ranger for a day out. While Ranger himself is a very, very well trained good boy, he's also just a dog. He goes sniffing around reader, a little too close for Jack to let him so he calls him back.
I know you mentioned that Ranger is stubborn and likes to push Jack around. He does it then, shoving Jack closer and closer to reader until they finally notice them. Reader immediately fusses over Ranger and asks to pet and turns out he was smelling the treats she keeps in her bag. She's a dog walker on the side and just came from a client's house.
Ranger obviously likes reader right away, so Jack can't help but trust his best friend's intuition.
*sigh* you guys are really fueling my jack abbot obsession (& i love you for it!)
jack 100% starts taking ranger on his morning runs after shift, he wants to keep his boy healthy!!
it’s almost a daily thing—jack running shirtless in the early morning sun, ranger running alongside him. sweat runs down jack’s front & back, his curls are slightly darker at his nape & temples from sweat.
he’s standing in the middle of the path, hands on his hips as he catches his breath. ranger immediately sits down next to him—tongue out as he pants softly, looking up at jack like he’s waiting to know what’s happening next—maybe his next command.
jack looks down at him with a smile, huffing a tired breath out before patting ranger’s large head; “I know bud, almost done. let’s find our tree & then we’ll sit.”
so they start jogging again—ranger moves the second jack does, pulling ahead of him just the slightest. enough that jack looks over at him & breathes out a soft; “fuss”, a command ranger knows without having to think—asking him to heel & keep at his side.
ranger adjusts immediately.
the sound of jack’s blade prosthesis hitting the ground below him echoes around them—helping his residual limp bounce back with a force that matches close enough to the force of his good leg.
when they reach the tree they always end their morning runs at—jack stands with his hands on his hips again, looking around at the city coming to life around them. ranger pushes his nose into jack’s good leg once.
jack looks down, brows raised; “what?”, he smiles, shaking his head; “you wanna go play?”
ranger doesn’t blink, tongue still out—sitting & waiting so patiently.
jack bends down with a grunt & unclips ranger’s leash, ruffling his fur once; “go ahead.”
ranger takes off the second the words leave jack’s mouth, leaving jack laughing as he settles with his back against the tree.
he lets his eyes close as he focuses on catching his breath. he doesn’t know how long he keeps them closed, but the sun against him suddenly feels warmer—& he realizes ranger hasn’t been back to check in with him like he usually does. wherever jack is, ranger is never far.
jack doesn’t panic, just peels his eyes open & let’s his gaze wander until they settle on ranger’s large frame; halfway across the field.
he’s by reader, nudging at their legs & switching between sitting patiently & moving around them.
jack can’t hear what reader says, but he’s sure “where’s your owner?” is going through their mind.
“ranger!”, jack calls out; “hier!”
ranger’s eyes flick from reader to jack immediately, his body moving to follow the command. but the second of hesitation is there—jack doesn’t miss it.
when ranger reaches jack he nuzzles his head into his lap between his legs, jack’s hands coming up to pet both sides of his head behind his ears; “what were you up to, huh?”, jack rasps out.
it takes him a second to register the new shadow standing over them, but when he does he looks up.
reader’s standing there with soft eyes & a smile on their face.
“this your dog?”, they ask.
ranger turns at the sound of the newly familiar voice, trotting over to stand next to you immediately.
“well he was”, jack chuckles; “seems like he likes you more.”
reader laughs with a shrug; “he’s just curious.”
jack realizes then that reader isn’t even looking at him.
normally on his morning runs, women couldn’t keep their eyes off of him when he didn’t wear a shirt. but reader’s not even looking at him. that’s what gets him first, what draws him to reader. their focus is entirely on ranger, who’s nudging at their pocket now.
“ranger”, jack tsks, making the dog grunt at him, casting him a sideways glance but not moving.
reader’s face flashes in realization; “oh!”, they say, reaching into their pocket; “he probably smells these.”
reader bends down then, holding a treat out in their palm; “is it ok if he has one?”
jack nods softly; “yeah. just tell him ‘sitz’”
so reader does, & ranger sits.
“good boy”, reader says, & let’s ranger take the treat from their hand.
a moment of silence passes before reader turns to jack; “all his commands in german?”
jack nods, breathing just back on the cusp of normal, but for some reason—his heart’s still beating too fast; “yeah. retired k-9. took me a while to learn them all.”
reader nods, petting behind ranger’s ears the same way jack had been moments before. jack smirks as a thought passes through his head.
“you always carry dog treats in your pockets?”
reader laughs softly; “i’m a dog walker. just stopped by on my way home from a morning client. i like to watch the morning sun.”
& oh jack’s heart skips a beat, because he does too.
“what about you?….”, reader trails off & jack realizes their waiting for his name.
“jack” he says; “my name’s jack.”
“well jack…what do you do when you aren’t keeping ranger in line?”
that makes a laugh escape him, completely out of his control. completely dangerous.
“doctor. night shift attending across the street”, jack points to the PTMC across the road from them.
reader’s brows go up; “oh? a doctor huh?”
“what?”
“nothing”, reader chuckles; “just figured you’d be like a body builder or something.”
pink heat rushes up jack’s neck to the tips of his ears, suddenly aware how bare his chest is.
“i’m kidding”, reader teases; “…maybe.”
when ranger finally makes his way back to lay next to jack, reader stands, brushing their legs off.
“well jack”, they say, “it’s was nice meeting you both. maybe we could do it again sometime?”
jack freezes.
“i’d love to hear more about him. he’s a good dog.”
jack smiles at the pup pressed into his legs; “yeah…yeah he is.”
then as if the rest of reader’s sentence hits him, he snaps his head back up; “but yeah! we can definitely do that…we’d uh, we’d like that a lot.”
so they exchange phone numbers, & when reader lets her hand linger on jack’s bicep for a moment before they turn to leave—morning sun casting an angelic light over them, jack’s heart skips a beat.
after reader is gone, jack looks back down at ranger; “ya know”, he says; “you’re a pretty good wing-man.”
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