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Interlude: You’re observing today

Dr. Jack Abbot x (female) reader | Dr. Jack Abbot x you

Summary: Jack doesn't forget. And he doesn't let things slide.

(AKA Jack channels his inner Pope lol)

A/N: I'm no longer updating the taglist because Tumblr has been glitching way too much lately. If you don't want to miss any updates, feel free to turn on notifications for my posts! <3

Link to "You stole my cart" master list (1)

Link to "You stole my cart" master list (2)

Previous chapter: Interlude: Did anyone fucking ask?

professional-ficsmith

Jealous Jack

Jealous Jack Abbot x Nurse Reader

Synopsis: Y/N thought she understood what working in the emergency department meant, long shifts, impossible cases, and relying on the people beside her to get through the chaos. But somewhere between late-night traumas, quiet moments in supply rooms, and shared glances across the ED, her relationship with Dr. Abbott becomes something neither of them can ignore.

As Y/N trains a new nurse, Keith, she finds herself caught between his obvious attention and Abbot’s quiet, undeniable care. Abbott tries to keep his distance, but watching someone else flirt with Y/N tests the restraint he's spent months building. When Keith crosses professional boundaries, Abbott steps in, not because Y/N can't handle herself, but because he refuses to let someone disregard her comfort.

Between emergency calls, unspoken feelings, and the boundaries they can't cross, Y/N and Abbott must navigate the line between professionalism and something much deeper.

Contains: Slow-burn romance • Workplace tension • Medical drama • Emergency department setting • Mutual pining • Jealousy • Emotional intimacy • Protective instincts • Flirting • Professional boundaries • Found family • Long shifts & late-night conversations • Forbidden feelings

Note: Honestly, there isn't much to say other than... I love me a jealous man. There is just something about watching a character who is normally calm, collected, and professional slowly lose his composure that gets me every time.

Now, from a reader's perspective? I hate slow burns. I want the confession. I want the kiss. I want the drama immediately. But as a writer? Oh, I loveeeee them. The irony is not lost on me.

I know some of you are probably sitting there thinking, "Please just let them admit they like each other already," and I hear you. I really do. But I also love the little moments—the lingering looks, the almost-confessions, the tiny gestures that mean way more than they should, and the absolute emotional chaos of two people who clearly have feelings but refuse to say it out loud.

So if you're mad at me for dragging this out... I'm sorry (but also, not really). I genuinely think the slow build makes the payoff so much better. The tension, the frustration, the "are they going to do something or just stare at each other forever?" moments are what make the story fun.

So grab a snack, settle in, and enjoy this long-ass story because we are apparently taking the scenic route. Thank you for reading, and I hope you enjoy the emotional rollercoaster as much as I enjoy putting these two through it.

---------

You walked through the ED doors with a smile, immediately spotting Dana and Lena discussing the handful of patients still left over from day shift.

You wished you got to work with Dana more often, but Lena had quickly become your work mom, and you wouldn't have it any other way.

"How have you been?" Dana asked, smiling as you approached.

"I've been good. Can't complain much."

You headed toward the lockers, fishing through your bag for your stethoscope as you opened your locker. Out of the corner of your eye, you noticed a tall man standing at the end of the hallway, finishing up a phone call. Is he on the morning crew?

Before you had a chance to think much more about it, he slipped his phone into his pocket and walked over.

"Hi, I'm Keith." He extended his hand with an easy smile.

You shook it, immediately noticing how much larger his hand was than yours.

"Hi, I'm Y/N. Are you part of the morning shift?" you asked.

He chuckled. "Actually, this is my first night shift. I've been a nurse for about a year. I moved to Pittsburgh not too long ago, and this was the first hospital that responded to my application."

You smiled as you shut your locker. "So I guess that means you'll be with me tonight."

He nodded. "I hope I won't be too much of a bother."

You laughed. "I think we'll survive."

Gesturing for him to follow, you started toward the nurses' station. Halfway there, you felt it. That familiar sensation of someone watching you. You looked up. Sure enough, Abbot stood beside Lena, backpack still slung over one shoulder. Whatever Lena had been saying no longer held his attention. His eyes were fixed on you.

Or more specifically......the fact that Keith was walking awfully close beside you.

"So..." Keith glanced toward Lena. "I'm guessing the redheaded lady is our charge nurse?"

You hadn't realized until then just how close he was standing. Your shoulders nearly brushed as the two of you walked.

You cleared your throat. "Yes. That lovely ginger is our charge nurse for the next twelve hours."

Lena immediately looked over, smiling as she walked toward the two of you. "Well, I see you've met our new night-shift nurse."

She turned toward the rest of the station. "Everyone, this is Keith. He'll be shadowing Y/N tonight, so if anyone needs a hand, I'm sure he'd be happy to help."

Keith gave an awkward little wave as every head turned in his direction.

You smiled sympathetically before spotting Princess and Perlah across the station. Perfect.

You wandered over. "Why, hello, ladies. Any hot gossip from day shift?"

Princess and Perlah exchanged mischievous smiles before immediately launching into stories involving Langdon, Santos, and Mel. You laughed, hanging onto every ridiculous detail. Keith stood quietly beside you the entire time. Well...Mostly quietly.

When you glanced over, you found him watching you instead of listening to the conversation. His chin rested casually in his hand, and he looked perfectly content simply watching you laugh. Your smile faltered for half a second before you politely excused yourself.

"I'll catch you two later."

After saying goodbye to Princess and Perlah, you headed back toward Lena, who was organizing assignments for the night. Keith followed. Again. You glanced around for Abbott but couldn't find him.

Probably talking with Robby, you assumed.

---

Why the hell was he following you around like a lost puppy? Abbot couldn't help the irritation bubbling beneath the surface. Keith had been there less than forty minutes, and somehow he'd managed to spend every second within arm's reach of you.

The guy wasn't just shadowing you. He was orbiting you. Abbott walked past room Three just as he heard your laugh drift into the hallway. Without really thinking about it, he slowed his pace. Inside, the two of you were restocking supplies.

"Okay," you said, opening a drawer. "Bandages go in the second drawer and..."

You glanced over your shoulder. "...did you grab extra saline?"

"Yeah." Keith held up two bottles. "I figured we'd need it. You already had your hands full, so I wanted to save you another trip to the supply room. I can put it back if it's too much."

You smiled. "Actually... thank you. I appreciate that. Just stick it in the fourth drawer."

Keith slid the saline into place before looking back at you. "What can I say?" he grinned. "A pretty lady like you can't do everything herself."

You smiled to yourself, unsure how to respond. Before you could say anything…

"Are we working," Abbott's voice cut through the room, "or are we trying to flatter my nursing staff?"

Keith immediately straightened. "I'm a great multitasker, sir."

You had to turn away and busy yourself with organizing syringes just to hide your smile. Abbott looked thoroughly unimpressed.

"Y/N."

You looked up.

"When you're finished, meet me at the nurses' station." His gaze shifted to Keith. "And you..."

There was the briefest pause. "...find somewhere else to linger so I can speak with my nurse."

*My nurse.*

Your cheeks instantly warmed. You could definitely get used to hearing that. Abbot disappeared into the hallway without another word. Keith watched him leave before turning back to you.

"He's not mean," you said with a small laugh. "I promise. Just... stern."

Keith chuckled. "Well, I'll go put the extra supplies in the next room so I don't interrupt you and Dr. Jealous." He punctuated the sentence with a wink before disappearing through the doorway.

You couldn't help smiling.

*Dr. Jealous?*

Was Abbott......jealous? There was only one way to find out. You stepped out into the hallway and found Abbott leaning casually against the nurses' station, scrolling through something on his iPad.

"So..." you said, unable to hide the small smirk on your face. "What was that about, Dr. Abbott?"

He sighed, finally looking over at you. For just a second, he seemed to simply study your face before answering.

"From what I've seen, and it's only been forty-five minutes since this shift started…he's done nothing but follow you around and flirt with you."

You raised an eyebrow.

"I'm not a fan of it."

"Why?"

"It's distracting." He hesitated. "...It's unprofessional." He looked like he wanted to keep talking. Instead, Lena's voice interrupted from behind the desk.

"I'm glad you two are enjoying your gossip session, but we've got an incoming trauma." She held the phone against her ear while listening to the report. "ETA three minutes."

The atmosphere shifted instantly. The teasing disappeared. Work mode. Without another word, you turned and headed toward Trauma Four, where Keith was finishing stocking gloves.

"Hey," you called. "We've got a trauma coming in. Two minutes."

Keith turned with an eager smile.

"You ready?"

He shrugged. "If I'm with you, I'm sure I'll be fine."

You rolled your eyes with a laugh. "What a flirt."

Shaking your head, you headed toward the trauma bay.

Keith followed close behind.

-------

The overhead speakers crackled.

**"Level One Trauma. ETA one minute. Trauma Bay Three."**

The department shifted instantly. Conversations stopped. Computers were abandoned. Everyone moved.

Mateo was already pulling gloves on.

"Twenty-four-year-old male, MVC. High-speed rollover. Hypotensive in the field, decreased breath sounds on the left, GCS twelve."

"Blood cooler?" Abbot called.

"Already here," Mateo answered.

"Respiratory?"

"On their way."

You glanced toward Keith. "Stay with me. Watch where everyone positions themselves. Don't get tunnel vision."

He nodded immediately. "Got it."

---

The ambulance doors burst open.

"Twenty-four-year-old male!" the paramedic shouted while steering the stretcher into the bay. "Restrained driver. Prolonged extrication. BP eighty over forty. Needle decompression was performed in route with minimal improvement."

The room exploded into organized chaos.

"Transfer on three."

"One—two—three."

The patient slid across.

Abbott was already at the head of the bed. "Airway. Y/N, IV access."

"Keith," you said quickly. "Pressure bag. Prime another liter."

"I'm on it." He moved surprisingly fast.

Not bad, you thought. The monitor screamed. Heart rate 148. Pressure falling.

"Seventy-six systolic."

"FAST exam."

"Negative."

"Breath sounds absent left."

Abbot's eyes never left the patient. "We're losing him."

He looked toward you. "Chest tray."

You already had it. "Here."

He barely had to ask. The chest tube went in. A rush of air escaped. The patient's oxygen saturation immediately began climbing.

"Better."

"Pressure's eighty-eight."

The room collectively breathed just a little easier.

---

Keith leaned toward you while hanging blood. "You make this look easy."

You didn't even glance up from securing the tubing. "It definitely isn't."

"No," he said with a grin. "But you still make it look that way."

Before you could answer

"Keith." Abbott's voice cut cleanly across the room.

No raised volume. No anger. Just enough.

Keith looked over. "Yes, Doctor?"

"Eyes on the blood."

Keith immediately checked the transfusion. "Right."

Abbott returned his attention to the patient.

"Good catch on the pressure bag."

"...Thanks." You bit the inside of your cheek.

---

Twenty minutes later the patient was stable enough for CT. As the transport team rolled him out, the room finally exhaled. Everyone began cleaning. Wrappers. Used gauze. Empty syringes. The controlled mess that followed every trauma.

Keith tossed bloody packaging into the trash. "I survived."

"You did."

"You think I passed?"

You smiled. "I think you kept up."

"I had a good teacher."

"You had a good team."

He leaned against the counter. "I still think the teacher deserves some credit."

"You lay it on pretty thick, don't you?"

He laughed. "Too much?"

"A little."

"I'll dial it back."

"You probably should."

He smiled. "But you smiled."

"I smile at everyone."

"I don't believe you."

"Oh?"

"I think mine are special."

You opened your mouth to answer...

"Y/N."

Abbott. Again. You turned. He stood in the doorway with his gloves pulled off, expression unreadable.

"Can I see you?"

Keith glanced between the two of you. "I'll finish cleaning."

"You don't have to—"

"I've got it." He smiled. "Go."

---

You stepped into the hallway. Abbott waited until the trauma room doors swung shut behind you.

"What did you need?"

He crossed his arms. "How's he doing?"

"The patient?"

"The new nurse."

"Oh." You blinked.

"He's...actually pretty good."

"I noticed."

"He stayed calm."

"He did."

"He listens."

"When he's paying attention."

You looked at him carefully. "What does that mean?"

Abbott held your gaze. "It means he spends more time looking at you than the patient."

You laughed softly. "That's what this is about?"

"No."

"It sounds like it."

"I'm evaluating a new nurse."

"You are."

"I am."

"You just happened to evaluate how often he looks at me?"

His jaw tightened ever so slightly. "I observe everything in my department."

"Mhm."

"And right now," he continued evenly, "I'm observing someone who's supposed to be learning but seems significantly more interested in impressing his preceptor."

You folded your arms. "I can handle myself."

"I know you can." His answer came immediately.

"I've never questioned that."

"Then why does this bother you?"

For a moment...He didn't answer. Instead, he looked toward Trauma Three where Keith was laughing with Mateo while throwing away packaging. Then back to you.

"Because..." He stopped himself.

The words visibly caught somewhere behind professionalism.

He sighed. "It doesn't matter."

"It does."

"It shouldn't."

There it was again. That careful line he always walked.

You stepped a little closer without really thinking. "We're off the trauma now."

"So?"

"So no one's bleeding for at least thirty seconds."

Despite himself...He smiled.

"You're impossible."

"I've been told."

"I was trying to finish what I was saying before."

"About Keith?"

He nodded once. "I don't think he understands professional boundaries."

"And?"

"And I don't like the way he talks to you."

You tilted your head. "Because he's distracting?"

"Yes."

"And?"

His eyes met yours. "And because he flirts with you every chance he gets."

The silence stretched.

You couldn't help yourself. "So?"

He stared at you. "You really want me to answer that?"

"I kind of do."

Another beat.

"I don't enjoy watching it."

Your heartbeat sped up. "You've noticed every time?"

"I've noticed every time."

You smiled despite yourself. "You sound jealous."

His expression stayed completely neutral. "I sound observant."

"Mhm."

"You disagree?"

"I think..." you said, trying very hard not to grin, "...those aren't mutually exclusive."

Before he could respond, Keith's voice echoed from the trauma room. "Y/N! Where do these extra chest tube kits go?"

You glanced over your shoulder. "I'll be right there!"

When you looked back...Abbot was already taking a step away. Professional again. Mask back in place.

"Go teach your new nurse."

There was something in the way he said *your* that made your stomach flutter.

You smiled. "Will do, Doctor."

He turned to leave. Then paused.

Without looking back, he said quietly, "...Try not to let him flatter you too much."

You couldn't resist. "Why?"

Now he looked over his shoulder. For just a second.

"Because..." The corner of his mouth twitched. "...I prefer being the one who makes you blush."

And before you could think of a response, he walked away, leaving you standing in the hallway with cheeks that had, in fact, turned bright pink.

You stood there for another second, watching Abbott disappear around the corner.

‘I preferred being the one who made you blush.’ Your cheeks were still burning.

"Oh, you're in trouble," you muttered to yourself with a smile.

"You talking to yourself already?" Keith asked as he came jogging up beside you.

You jumped. "You have a habit of sneaking up on people."

"I figured I'd have to if I'm going to keep up with you."

You rolled your eyes. "You've got jokes."

"I've got charm."

"So you've said."

He grinned. "I've demonstrated it."

"You've demonstrated persistence."

"I'll take that."

Before you could answer, the overhead speakers crackled.

"Level One Trauma. ETA four minutes. Motorcycle collision."

The department shifted again. Lena was already pulling up the EMS report.

"Twenty-eight-year-old male. Motorcycle versus SUV. Open femur fracture, suspected pelvic instability, hypotensive despite fluids."

Abbott appeared almost instantly.

"Trauma Three."

Everyone moved.

"Y/N, you're with me." You nodded.

"Keith, stay on Y/N."

"Got it."

The ambulance doors burst open moments later.

"BP sixty-eight over forty!"

"Two units of blood running!"

"Pelvic binder applied in the field!"

The patient looked awful. Blood soaked through the sheets beneath him.

"Transfer on three."

"One...two...three."

The room erupted.

"Large-bore IV."

"Already in."

"Pressure's dropping."

"Massive transfusion protocol."

Keith was right beside you, handing you supplies before you even asked.

"Pressure bag."

"In your hand."

"Flush."

"Here."

For a second, everything clicked.

You smiled. "Nice."

"Told you I'd keep up."

Across the bed, Abbot looked over briefly. His eyes landed on Keith. Then on you.

Then back to the patient. "Focus," he said sharply.

Both of you answered at once. "Yes, Doctor."

The orthopedic resident rushed in. "What've we got?"

"Unstable pelvis. Open femur. Probably heading upstairs if we can keep him alive."

The patient's pressure dipped again.

"Fifty-eight systolic."

"Damn it." Abbot's voice stayed level.

"More blood."

Keith reached for the cooler. Instead of grabbing O-negative blood...His hand wrapped around a saline bag. He hung it.

You noticed half a second too late. "Keith-"

Abbot noticed immediately. "No!"

His voice cut through the room. "Stop!"

Everyone froze.

Abbot crossed the trauma bay in three quick strides. "What are you doing?"

Keith looked down. His face went pale. "I-I thought-"

"You thought wrong." Abbot yanked the saline free before it could infuse.

"I asked for blood."

"I'm sorry—"

"This patient is exsanguinating."

Keith swallowed hard. "I know."

"No." Abbot's voice was low. "You don't."

The room had gone silent. Everyone could feel it. Abbot took one controlled breath. Then another.

"Step away from the bed."

Keith hesitated.

"Now."

Keith immediately backed away.

"You are done in this trauma."

"I'm sorry."

"I said out."

Keith looked toward you. Then quietly left the room. The doors swung shut behind him. Nobody spoke. Abbot didn't either.

He simply held out his hand. "Blood."

You placed the unit into it without a word. The room moved again. Twenty-five minutes later...The bleeding was controlled. Orthopedics had accepted the patient. The transport team rolled the stretcher toward the elevator.

As soon as they disappeared...The adrenaline drained from the room.

You pulled off your gloves. "I'm gonna go check on Keith."

You had barely taken two steps.

"Y/N." Abbott. You stopped.

He was stripping off his gown, his expression unreadable. "I need a minute."

You frowned. "Can it wait?"

"No."

You glanced toward the hallway where Keith had disappeared. "I just want to make sure he's okay."

Abbot's jaw tightened. "He'll be fine."

"You don't know that."

"He made a mistake."

"I know."

"He could've killed someone."

"I know."

"But you didn't have to throw him out."

Abbot stared at you. "I absolutely did."

"He was embarrassed enough."

"He needed to leave."

"He was trying."

"And trying isn't enough in a trauma bay."

Your voice softened. "Jack..."

His expression flickered. Only for a second. "I wasn't angry because he flirted with you."

You blinked. "I didn't say you were."

"But you thought it."

You didn't answer. Because you had. He sighed. "When that patient's pressure dropped..." His voice was quieter now.

"I wasn't thinking about Keith."

"I was thinking about a twenty-eight-year-old bleeding to death in front of us."

"I know."

"I can't have someone second-guessing themselves in this room."

"I know."

"And I can't have someone who isn't paying attention."

You nodded slowly. "I get that."

He studied your face. "But..."

You finished for him. "...you also don't like him flirting with me."

His silence answered before he did.

Finally...

"No." A simple answer. Honest.

"I don't."

You couldn't help the small smile tugging at your lips.

"You know..."

He looked at you.

"...those are two completely separate conversations."

"They are."

"And right now..." You pointed toward the hallway. "...I have a brand-new nurse who probably thinks he just ended his career."

Abbot rubbed a tired hand across the back of his neck. "He didn't."

"I know."

"So let me go tell him that."

He nodded once. Then, just before you walked away-

"Y/N."

You looked back.

His voice was much gentler this time. "...Tell him I expect him back."

You smiled. "I will."

"And tell him..." He hesitated. "...next time he hears 'blood,' he doesn't touch anything until he's absolutely certain."

"I'll tell him." You started walking again.

"Y/N?"

You laughed. "What now?"

A faint smile finally appeared on Abbott's face. "...And if he flirts with you while you're explaining it..."

You raised an eyebrow.

"...I'm still not going to like it."

You couldn't stop yourself from laughing. "There he is."

"There who is?"

"Dr. Jealous."

Abbott let out a quiet huff of amusement, shook his head, and turned back toward the trauma bay before you could see the reluctant smile that had finally won.

----

Keith couldn't have gone far. You found him sitting alone in one of the empty charting alcoves near the staff lounge, elbows resting on his knees, his badge turning slowly between his fingers.

He didn't notice you until you stopped beside him. "Hey."

He looked up. "Oh."

His voice was quieter than usual. "Hey."

You leaned against the counter across from him. "Mind if I sit?"

He shrugged. "I don't think I've earned the right to say no."

You pulled up the rolling stool beside him. For a moment, neither of you spoke.

Finally, you broke the silence. "You okay?"

Keith let out a humorless laugh. "I just got kicked out of my first trauma."

"You got overwhelmed."

"I hung saline instead of blood. You caught it before it became a bigger problem."

"Dr. Abbott caught it."

He rubbed a hand over his face. "I looked like an idiot."

"You looked like a brand-new trauma nurse."

He glanced over. "There's a difference?"

"There is." You smiled gently. "Every single person in this department has made a mistake they still think about."

"You?"

You laughed. "Oh, definitely me."

"What'd you do?"

"I almost contaminated a central line setup my second month here."

Keith looked surprised. "You?"

"I was mortified."

"What happened?"

"Abbot corrected me."

He winced. "I'm guessing... not gently."

You smiled to yourself. "No."

"He wasn't mean."

"He was..." You searched for the right word. “...very direct."

Keith chuckled. "Sounds familiar."

"He expects a lot."

"Yeah."

"But he expects it because these patients deserve it."

Keith nodded slowly. "I know."

Another quiet settled between you.

"I really am sorry," he said.

"I know you are."

"I wanted to impress you tonight."

You looked at him. "You don't have to impress me."

"I kind of wanted to." A sheepish smile spread across his face.

"I think that much has been obvious." You laughed softly.

"Just a little." He bumped your shoulder lightly with his. "I thought maybe if I made you laugh enough...You'd forget I almost killed a trauma patient?"

He groaned.

"I was hoping you'd say yes."

"I don't think that's how memory works."

He smiled. "No?"

"No."

He sighed dramatically. "Worth a shot."

You stood, giving his shoulder a reassuring squeeze. "Come on."

He looked up.

"Let's get back out there."

"You still think I can do this?"

"I wouldn't have come looking for you if I didn't."

Keith smiled for the first time since leaving the trauma bay. "See..."

He stood, grabbing his badge. "...that's exactly why I like you."

You raised an eyebrow. "Keith..."

"I'm serious." He smiled, a little more cautiously this time. "You're kind, you're patient, and somehow you're still talking to me after I embarrassed myself."

"If I wasn't already interested before..." He flashed another grin. "...I definitely am now."

You shook your head, unable to help smiling. "You really don't quit, do you?"

"Can you blame me?"

You laughed as the two of you walked down the hallway. "Let's just survive the rest of the shift first."

Keith nodded. "I'll settle for that."

As you disappeared back toward the nurses' station together, neither of you noticed the physician workroom door slowly swing shut. Inside, Abbott had just overheard the tail end of the conversation.

"...If I wasn't already interested before... I definitely am now." His jaw tightened.

He looked down at the chart in front of him. Read the same sentence three times. Then quietly closed the tablet. Something told him this conversation with Keith wasn't over.

---

The next couple of hours were surprisingly... quiet. At least, quiet by emergency department standards. The waiting room was still overflowing. Call lights blinked every few minutes, monitors continued their constant chorus of beeps, and Lena somehow managed to materialize anytime someone forgot to chart something.

But there were no traumas. No ambulance sirens. No frantic rushes through the bay doors. Instead, the department settled into the rhythm of overnight emergency medicine.

A migraine.

A toddler with a stubborn fever.

A college student convinced that three energy drinks had given him a heart attack.

"You'll live," Lena deadpanned as she discharged him.

She paused. "...Probably."

You hadn't seen much of Keith since your conversation outside the trauma bay. Abbot had reassigned him to Mateo for the remainder of that case, but once the patient reached the OR and the department settled again, Lena quietly sent him back your way.

"Fresh start," she'd said.

Keith looked grateful just to be standing beside you again. He'd also been noticeably quieter. Less eager to joke. Less eager to flirt. Mostly focused on learning. You were glad.

The mistake in the trauma bay had clearly shaken him. Just after midnight, the triage phone rang.

"Room Twelve," Lena called. "Twenty-six-year-old male. Shoulder dislocation after falling off an electric scooter."

You looked toward Keith. "Perfect teaching patient."

His eyebrows lifted. "Really?"

"You need your confidence back."

A genuine smile spread across his face. "I'll take the lead?"

"You'll take the lead."

The patient was sitting awkwardly on the stretcher, clutching his left shoulder.

"I swear," he groaned, "those scooters are trying to kill people."

You laughed. "I think they're just making us busier."

Keith introduced himself before beginning his assessment. "Can you wiggle your fingers for me?"

The patient did.

"Sensation?"

"Yeah."

"Pulse is intact."

You stayed beside him, letting him work through the assessment on his own. Every now and then, he glanced toward you.

"Am I missing anything?"

"What else could be injured?"

He paused. "...Clavicle?"

"Good."

He checked it carefully.

"No tenderness."

"What about below the shoulder?"

His eyes widened. "The elbow."

"There you go."

He smiled. "You have that face."

"What face?"

"The one where you're silently waiting for me to figure it out."

You laughed. "I don't have a face."

"You definitely have a face."

The patient looked between the two of you.

"You guys work together a lot?"

Keith answered before you could. "I'm hoping to."

You gave him a look. He only smiled sheepishly. The reduction went smoothly. Abbot supervised the sedation, guided the reduction, confirmed post-reduction films, and disappeared almost as quickly as he'd arrived.

The shoulder slid back into place.

"There it is."

The patient sighed dramatically. "Oh... that's so much better."

"I'd stay off the scooters for a while," you advised.

"I think I'm walking everywhere from now on."

An hour later, the room was cleaned, and the patient discharged.

Keith tossed the last wrapper into the trash. "I think..." He smiled. "...that went a little better."

"It did."

"You trusted me again."

"I never stopped."

He looked at you for a second longer than necessary. "Thanks."

There was something different in his expression. Less embarrassment. More admiration. You didn't think much of it. You carried the empty supply tray toward the supply closet.

Keith reached for the other handle. "I've got it."

"You don't have to."

"I know." He smiled.

"I want to."

The supply closet was empty. You started replacing supplies while Keith organized the tray beside you.

After a minute, he broke the silence. "Can I ask you something?"

"Shoot."

"When you came looking for me after the trauma..."

You looked over. "...yeah?"

"Did you do that because you had to?"

Your hands paused. "No."

His smile grew. "I didn't think so."

"I did it because you looked like you needed someone."

"I needed you."

You smiled sympathetically. "I think anybody would've checked on you."

"I don't."

You returned to stocking gauze. "I think you're giving me too much credit."

"I don't think I am." He leaned against the wall. "I've never had someone do that for me."

"I was just trying to help."

"I know."

He looked at you. "...It's one of the reasons I like you."

Your smile faltered. "Keith..."

"I know." He laughed softly.

"I told myself I wasn't going to bring it up again."

"Probably a good idea."

"But then you came after me."

"I would've done that for anyone."

"I don't believe you."

"You should."

He shook his head. "No."

You sighed quietly. "Keith..."

"I'm serious."

"So am I."

His smile softened. "I think you're amazing."

You looked away. "I appreciate that."

"I don't think you know how beautiful you are."

You blinked. "Okay..."

"I mean it." He stepped closer.

"You've got this way of making people feel better just by talking to them."

"Keith."

"I can't stop thinking about you."

You set the supply tray down. "I really think we should keep this professional."

"We can."

"And?"

"We can get dinner after work."

You smiled politely. "I'm not interested."

"You haven't even thought about it."

"I have."

"So that's a maybe."

"No."

"A coffee?"

"No."

"One date."

"No."

He laughed. "I'll wear you down eventually."

Your expression became serious. "No, you won't."

He searched your face. "You mean that."

"I do."

There was a long silence. Then-

"I just think if you gave me a chance—"

"She answered you."

The deep voice from the doorway cut cleanly through the room. You turned. Abbot stood just outside the supply closet. Hands in his pockets. Expression unreadable.

Keith immediately straightened. "Doctor."

Abbot's eyes never left him. "She answered you."

---

The rest of the shift passed in a blur. Not because the department was busy. For once, it was almost manageable. But because every time you looked up, you were aware of Abbot. And every time Abbot looked up...

You wondered if he was thinking about the same thing. Keith finished the remainder of his shift with Mateo. He was quieter afterward, more careful, and noticeably less confident than he had been when the night started. You felt bad for him.

But you also knew Abbott was right. You had said no. More than once. And that should have been enough.

---

By six forty-five, the familiar signs of morning shift started appearing. Fresh coffee. New faces. Day shift nurses walking in with their bags over their shoulders and expressions that said they had no idea what they were walking into.

Lena was giving report while Mateo was already complaining about needing sleep.

"You're dramatic," Lena told him.

"I've been awake for twelve hours."

"You chose emergency medicine."

"I was young and foolish."

You smiled as you finished your last chart. The department was changing hands. Night was finally ending. You grabbed your bag from the locker room, ready to leave, when you heard your name.

"Y/N."

You turned.

Abbott stood a few feet away. His backpack was already on. He looked exhausted. But there was something else there too.

Concern.

"Can I talk to you for a minute?"

Your stomach tightened. "Sure."

He nodded toward the empty hallway near the physician’s workroom. Not hidden. Not secret. Just quieter.

When you stopped, he crossed his arms. "Are you okay?"

The question caught you off guard. "I'm fine."

He gave you a look. "You don't have to say that automatically."

You sighed. "Okay."

A small smile tugged at his mouth. "There it is."

"What?"

"The actual answer."

You leaned against the wall. "I'm okay."

A pause.

"Keith apologized."

Abbott nodded. "I'm glad."

"He seemed embarrassed."

"He should be."

You looked at him. "Jack."

His expression softened slightly. "Y/N."

You both smiled at the familiar exchange.

Then he sighed. "I don't want you thinking I stepped in because I don't trust you to handle yourself."

"I don't."

"You hesitated."

You looked away. "Maybe a little."

He nodded. "I know you're capable."

His voice lowered. "I know you can take care of yourself better than almost anyone I've ever worked with."

That made you look back at him. "Then why did it bother you so much?"

The question sat between you. For a moment, he didn't answer.

Then he exhaled. "Because I watched it happen all night."

You raised an eyebrow. "Keith?"

"Yes." A small, almost amused frustration crossed his face. "He followed you everywhere."

You tried not to smile. "He was learning."

"He was learning your coffee order."

You laughed. "Jack."

"No, I'm serious." Now he was smiling too. "He knew how you liked your coffee before he knew where the trauma supplies were."

You covered your mouth, trying not to laugh. "He was being nice."

"I know."

"And?"

He looked at you. "And it annoyed me."

There it was. The honesty.

You tilted your head. "Why?"

He looked away for a second. "Because I know what it's like to make you laugh."

Your smile faded slightly. "Jack..."

"I know." He ran a hand over his face. "I'm not saying this because I think I have some claim on you."

"You don't."

"I know." The quickness of his answer surprised you.

"I know I don't."

The hallway became quiet.

"I think that's why it bothered me."

You waited.

"Because watching someone else try to get your attention reminded me that I have been trying very hard not to want yours."

Your heartbeat picked up. He looked at you. Really looked at you.

"You make it difficult."

"I do?"

"You do." A faint smile appeared. "You walk into a room and somehow everyone notices."

"That's not true."

"It is."

"You notice." The words slipped out.

And immediately, you both went quiet. Because you both knew exactly what you meant. Abbot looked down.

Then back at you. "I do."

Your breath caught.

"I notice everything about you."

The air changed. Not because either of you moved. Because neither of you did. For a second, it felt exactly like the supply room again.

The almost. The impossible. The thing neither of you could stop feeling. Then Abbot stepped back. Just slightly. Enough to remind both of you where you were.

"You deserve someone who can give you their full attention."

Your eyes stayed on his. "You mean someone who isn't my attending."

His expression softened. "Yes."

The honesty hurt more than you expected.

"You think that person, isn't you?"

A long silence. Then-

"I think..." He swallowed. "...that if things were different, I wouldn't hesitate."

Your heart squeezed. "Jack."

"I mean that." His voice was quiet. "I know exactly what I want."

Another pause.

"But wanting something doesn't mean you take it."

That was the thing about him. The thing that made it harder. He always chose the right thing. Even when it clearly cost him.

You smiled sadly. "You make being responsible very annoying."

He laughed softly. "I've been told."

"By me."

"Mostly by you."

The two of you stood there for another moment. Close. Too close emotionally. Not physically.

Then Lena's voice echoed from the nurses' station. "Y/N, are you leaving, or did you move in?"

You both laughed. The moment broke.

You grabbed your bag. "I should go."

"You should."

You started walking away. Then stopped. "Jack?"

He looked over.

"Thank you."

His expression softened. "For what?"

"For looking out for me."

A quiet smile. "Always."

You held his gaze for one more second. Then you left. And even though nothing happened... Even though neither of you crossed the line... It somehow felt like everything had changed.

-----

The next few shifts were different. Not because the emergency department changed. It never did. There were still endless call lights, impossible patients, and moments where everyone survived purely because caffeine existed.

But something between you and Abbot had shifted. Not in a way anyone else could see. Not in a way that could be documented or explained. Just in the small moments. The way he always looked for you when he walked into the department.

The way you somehow always ended up beside him during the more complicated cases. The way neither of you ever acknowledged the tension hanging between you.

Keith, thankfully, became much less of a presence. After your conversation with Lena, she moved him to work alongside Mateo for the remainder of his orientation.

She didn't make a big deal out of it. She didn't need to. Lena had a way of handling situations without making people feel like they were being punished.

Keith apologized one more time before the switch happened.

"I really am sorry," he said quietly.

You believed him. "I know."

"I crossed a line."

You nodded. "You did."

He looked down. "I appreciate you being honest with me."

"Thank you for listening."

And that was the end of it. No drama. No awkwardness. Just a boundary finally respected.

---

A few nights later, you found Lena outside the employee entrance smoking a cigarette. The weather was cold enough that you could see your breath.

Lena leaned against the brick wall, cigarette in hand. "You know..."

You glanced over. "Whenever you start a sentence like that, I get nervous."

She smiled. "Good instinct."

You laughed. "What?"

She looked toward the parking lot. "You and Abbott."

Your stomach immediately tightened. "What about us?"

She gave you a knowing look. "See?"

"What?"

"You didn't ask who I meant."

You rolled your eyes. "Lena."

"I'm just saying."

She took a pull from her cigarette. "I've worked with that man a long time."

You stayed quiet.

"And I have never seen him look at someone the way he looks at you."

You looked down. "He can't."

"I know."

The answer was immediate.

"Lena..."

"I know." Her expression softened.

"And I also know that knowing something is wrong doesn't magically make feelings disappear."

You sighed. "I don't want him to get in trouble."

"He won't."

"He could."

"He could." She nodded.

"But that doesn't mean you have to spend your entire life pretending something isn't there."

You looked at her. "What am I supposed to do?"

Lena shrugged. "Honestly?"

You waited.

"Say fuck it."

You laughed. "Lena."

"No, I'm serious." She pointed her cigarette at you.

"Not recklessly. Not while ignoring consequences. But stop letting fear make every decision for you."

You looked toward the hospital doors. "What if it's not worth it?"

"Then you walk away."

"What if it is?"

"Then you figure out how to make it work." Her voice softened. "But don't spend years wondering what would've happened because you were too scared to find out."

You smiled slightly. "You always have the most questionable advice."

"That's why you love me."

"I do."

"I know." She bumped your shoulder.

"Now go inside before Lena the charge nurse has to yell at Lena the friend for being outside too long."

---

A few weeks later, after one of the longest shifts imaginable, night shift decided enough was enough.

"We are going out," Mateo announced.

"No," Lena replied.

"Yes."

"No."

"Yes."

You laughed. "Mateo, you do realize you're arguing with the person who makes the schedule, right?"

"Exactly. I'm taking a risk."

Somehow, everyone ended up agreeing. One drink became two. Two became everyone staying longer than planned. The bar was loud, warm, and a completely different world from the ED.

No monitors. No trauma calls. No pressure.

Just your coworkers laughing about everything that had gone wrong that week. You were sitting at the bar when two men approached.

"Can we buy you a drink?"

You smiled politely. "I'm okay, thank you."

The first one grinned. "Come on. We're just being friendly."

"I appreciate it, but I'm good."

The second one leaned against the bar. "You always this serious?"

Before you could answer-

"Y/N."

You turned. Abbott. Your heart immediately betrayed you.

He stood a few feet away, jacket on, hands in his pockets. "I need to talk to you for a second."

You looked between him and the two men. "Everything okay?"

"Yeah."

His eyes flickered toward them. Then back to you. "I just need some air."

You knew that look. Something was weighing on him.

You nodded. "Okay."

---

Outside, the noise of the bar disappeared the moment the door swung shut behind you. The cool night air wrapped around both of you, a welcome contrast to the warmth and chatter inside. For a long moment, neither of you spoke.

You smiled first. "Were you rescuing me?"

Abbott huffed out a quiet laugh. "No." A beat. "...Maybe."

You folded your arms against the chill. "You were jealous."

"I was concerned."

"Mhm."

"You don't believe me."

"I believe concern was involved."

"And the jealousy?"

You watched him carefully. He rubbed the back of his neck before letting out a slow breath. "...Also involved."

You couldn't stop yourself from smiling. "I knew it."

"I've spent weeks convincing myself I wasn't."

"And?"

"And then I watched three different men try to flirt with you tonight." His jaw tightened just enough for you to notice. "I didn't enjoy that."

Your smile softened. "I noticed."

"I imagine you did."

Silence settled again. Comfortable. Dangerous.

He looked down at the sidewalk before meeting your eyes again. "I've been trying very hard to do the right thing."

"I know."

"I keep telling myself that if I ignore this long enough..." His voice trailed off. "...it'll go away."

You already knew the answer. "It hasn't."

"No." The word was barely audible. "If anything..." He gave a small, almost helpless smile. "...it's gotten worse."

Your heart squeezed.

"You make me look forward to coming to work." He laughed quietly to himself. "Which is a ridiculous thing for an attending physician to admit."

"I don't think it's ridiculous."

"You don't?" You shook your head. "I look for you too."

His expression changed. Not surprise. Hope. The kind that had been buried for a long time.

"You do?"

"Every shift." You smiled to yourself. "If I don't see you when I walk into the department, I notice."

His eyes never left yours. "If you're off helping another patient, I catch myself listening for your voice."

You laughed softly. "I know."

"You know?"

"You have a habit."

"I do?"

"You always look toward the ambulance bay whenever you hear me laugh."

He blinked. "...I do."

"You do." He shook his head, smiling despite himself.

"I wasn't aware anyone had noticed."

"I notice everything."

The words settled between you. He took one slow step closer. Not enough to crowd you. Just enough that you could see every fleck of color in his eyes.

"You really do."

"So do you."

Another step. Close enough now that your voices naturally dropped. The sounds from inside the bar faded until they were little more than muffled music behind the brick wall.

"I've wanted..." he began quietly before stopping himself.

"What?"

He searched your face. Then admitted, almost reluctantly- "...to be this close to you for a long time."

Your pulse quickened. Neither of you moved. Neither of you seemed capable of it.

His eyes searched yours carefully. "I don't ever want you to feel pressured."

"I don't."

"I need to hear you say it."

You nodded once. "I know."

Another long pause. He lifted one hand slowly. Not touching you. Just close enough that you could feel the warmth radiating from his fingertips.

"Is this okay?"

Your answer wasn't immediate. Not because you were unsure. Because you'd imagined this moment too many times. Instead of speaking, you closed the last few inches between you. Your fingers curled gently around the front of his jacket as you leaned into him.

For a heartbeat, he simply stood there, almost as though he couldn't quite believe you were real. Then his hand settled lightly against your waist. Tentative. Giving you every opportunity to step away.

When you didn't, his thumb traced the smallest circle against your side. "You sure?" he whispered.

You looked up at him, smiling. "I've never been more sure."

The distance between you disappeared. The kiss was gentle at first. Almost hesitant. A question more than an answer. Months of restrained glances, unfinished conversations, and almost-moments finally finding somewhere to go.

When you kissed him back, you felt him smile against your lips. A quiet, disbelieving smile. His hand remained at your waist, steady and warm, while your fingers slid up to rest against his shoulder. You lingered there together, neither of you in any hurry to pull away.

When you finally did, your foreheads rested together. Both of you smiling. Both of you slightly breathless.

"I've wanted to do that," he admitted with a soft laugh, "for longer than I'd care to admit."

"I know."

"You knew?"

"I was hoping."

He closed his eyes for a brief second, smiling. "So was I."

For another long moment, neither of you spoke. You simply stood together beneath the glow of the parking lot lights, the noise of the city fading into the background. Then, from inside the bar, Lena's voice carried through the cracked-open door.

"If you two are out there solving world peace, I'm adding another round to your tab!"

You both laughed. Abbott looked at you, his smile lingering.

"I suppose we should go back."

You nodded. "In a minute."

"In a minute," he agreed.

apfelkernchen

I thought an attending’s wife would be hotter

Dr. Jack Abbot x (female) reader | Dr. Jack Abbot x you

Summary: An overnight stay in the Pitt... and Jack almost commits homicide over one careless comment.

A/N: I'm no longer updating the taglist because Tumblr has been glitching way too much lately. If you don't want to miss any updates, feel free to turn on notifications for my posts! <3

Link to "You stole my cart" master list (1)

Link to "You stole my cart" master list (2)

Previous chapter: Interlude: Congratulations on successfully keeping a very boring secret

abbotverse

ER wallflower - jack abbot.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Then, you felt a hand tap your shoulder.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Good catch earlier.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You were all alone.

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

He had to fix that.

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

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

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

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

yesimfinewhydoyouask

The Reunion

Jack Abbot x f!reader

Description- Some bullies never grow up, as Jack Abbot learns at his girlfriend's 15th high school reunion

CW- shitty high school bullies, mentions of mental health concerns and substance abuse (not reader's), age gap (20ish years), bully had a very inappropriate and illegal relationship as a teen

AN- I gave this a mega fluff ending because I wanted to and it just happened. I've also had to face the harsh truth that I can't spell reunion right on the first try

“Are you sure this is what you want? You know, I would understand if you want to go alone, or bring a friend, someone-” “I swear to god, if you say someone younger, I’ll take back every nice thought I was having about how you look in that suit.” Jack smiled at that, his hands stilling on the white collar of his dress shirt where he’d been adjusting his tie, his gaze finding yours behind him in the mirror's reflection. The tie was a dark green that you’d picked out over a year ago, saying it made the green specks in his hazel eyes look even more beautiful than usual. He made it a point to wear it on every anniversary, every special occasion, which apparently now extended to keeping you company around the people who had tortured you in high school.

“Just nice thoughts?” he asked far too innocently, eyes crinkling mischievously at the corners.

You met his eyes where he stared at you in the reflection of the dresser mirror.

apfelkernchen

Interlude: Congratulations on successfully keeping a very boring secret

Dr. Jack Abbot x (female) reader | Dr. Jack Abbot x you

Summary: Jack has a moral dilemma over brunch. Robby has scrambled eggs and absolutely no interest in indulging it.

A/N: I'm no longer updating the taglist because Tumblr has been glitching way too much lately. If you don't want to miss any updates, feel free to turn on notifications for my posts! <3

Link to "You stole my cart" master list (1)

Link to "You stole my cart" master list (2)

Previous chapter: Interlude: Your husband is very well connected within the PTMC

clocksamiright

Stress Reliever - Jack Abbot (part 2)

Pairing - Jack Abbot x Reader

Summary - Jack Abbot made his decision without ever asking for yours, so you make one of your own. As the distance between you grows, he’s forced to confront feelings he’d spent weeks trying to convince himself didn’t exist.

Warnings - Large age gap (Jack in his late 40's, reader in her late 20's), miscommunication, workplace tension, hurt/comfort, angst, pet names (no use of y/n), HAPPY ENDING!!

Word count - 8187

Notes - Here’s the second and final part of this fic!! Tysm for all the love and support, I hope you all enjoy :)

Taglist - @cannedibal @abbotslop @thatonedindjarinfan @littlesweetbunnysworld @callmefatherr @marquiserose @amacphet @mafercita101 @mmb77 @sullyselena @kittykaylat1987 @grandmaunderabridge @swagdaddy15

The words followed you long after you’d walked away from the exam room.

It has to stay just sex… or nothing.

I think I’m going to end it.

You’d heard enough, more than enough.

The chart still sat clutched tightly against your chest as you stepped back into the organised chaos of the emergency department, the familiar sounds rushing back all at once. Monitor alarms. Overhead pages. Phones ringing. Someone laughing somewhere behind the nurses’ station.

The world hadn’t stopped, so it felt strange that yours had.

You inhaled slowly, then exhaled. Your shoulders relaxed and your face settled into something calm, professional. By the time another nurse called your name, there wasn’t a trace of emotion left for anyone else to see.

“Doctor?”

You looked over immediately, brushing away any hurt and anger you were feeling.

“Yep.”

“Can you give me a hand in Bed Nine?”

“Of course.”

And just like that, you buried yourself in work.

The final thirty minutes of the shift passed in a blur, blood requests, discharge paperwork, a confused elderly gentleman convinced he was in a train station, a medication chart needing signed—anything and everything as long as it kept your hands busy. As long as it stopped your mind from wandering back to the conversation outside Exam Four.

Across the department, Jack did exactly the same. He slipped straight back into attending mode, moving from patient to patient with the same steady confidence he’d carried throughout the night. If anything, he seemed lighter.

The conversation with Robby hadn’t solved anything. But saying it aloud had made the decision feel… necessary. Painful but necessary. He’d deal with it, just not today. Not while there were still patients depending on him.

Robby had disappeared into preparations for the incoming day shift, leaving Jack to finish the last of the overnight documentation. Every now and then his eyes searched for you without really thinking about it. Each time, he found you—charting, talking to nurses, helping transport, checking on patients.

He smiled faintly to himself.

At 6:58, the familiar wave of fresh faces began filtering through the department, the unmistakable energy of people who’d actually slept. Night shift collectively looked about ready to collapse.

Jack rubbed a tired hand across his jaw before spotting you at the medication station.

“There you are.” He sighed, fingers scratching at the stubble stretching over his skin.

You looked up with indifference written all over your face.

“Doctor Abbot?”

He paused for a fraction of a second. Normally, it was Jack. Sometimes accompanied by a sarcastic comment about his age. Or a joke, or a smile.

He brushed the thought aside, thinking that it had probably just been a long night, that you were exhausted.

“Wanna help with handover?”

“Of course.” You nodded once. There was no teasing, no stupid grin on your face. Just pure professionalism.

Jack frowned ever so slightly before leading you towards the cluster of day-shift residents and attendings gathering around the central desk.

The handover began exactly as every other morning did—bed by bed, patient by patient.

Jack spoke first, assessing each diagnosis while you filled in the gaps. Together, you’d always fallen into an easy rhythm.

“You saw Mrs Peterson this morning?” One of the incoming residents asked.

You answered before Jack could, already nodding to wards the patients bed.

“She’s awaiting repeat troponins. First set was negative, second is due in twenty minutes. Cardiology are aware.”

The resident nodded, scribbling notes.

Jack glanced sideways, giving you an easy nod of approval even if his jaw was clenched tighter than it should have been. You simply nodded back at him with no smile, no quiet “thanks.” Just your attention returning to the next patient list.

A few minutes later, Jack shifted slightly to make room as another consultant joined the circle. Usually, without thinking, you would’ve stepped in closer. You always stood close enough for his shoulder to brush yours, to feel the heat from him through your scrubs. You never did it because anyone had asked you to, it just always happened.

Today though, you stayed exactly where you were. A comfortable professional distance away. Your arms folded loosely around your clipboard, eyes fixed on the patient board rather than him.

Jack noticed only for a second. Something had to be wrong right? Maybe you just wanted some soace after a heavy shift.

“…And Bed Twelve?”

The question pulled him back immediately but before he could even think about speaking, you answered smoothly.

He nodded in agreement, the only thing he could really do. His mind was elsewhere completely, the brief feeling of relief after his conversation with Robby had dissipated now.

The handover continued. Every answer you gave was clear and confident, exactly what he’d expect from an R-3. You didn’t stumble once, didn’t ask for reassurance, didn’t even look towards him to silently check you’d reached the right conclusion. You simply knew.

He should’ve been pleased, should have felt some sense of pride knowing you had become more confident in your ability. Instead, something felt different. Wrong in a way he couldn’t describe. He couldn’t quite put his finger on it.

The thoughts from before circled back again. Maybe you were just tired, it had been a long night. You’d barely slept before coming straight back in, having gone back to his place and stayed up with him. Anyone would be quieter after that.

He glanced at you again as another patient was discussed. You were already making notes for the incoming resident, expression neutral—focused and professional.

He smiled to himself, somehow convincing himself that it was just exhaustion making you quiet. That was all. He’d catch you later, make sure you actually went home, probably remind you to eat something before collapsing into bed. Maybe even convince you to come over after the next shift.

The thought came so naturally that he didn’t even question it. He had no idea that the invitation he’d already planned in his head was about to be the first time you’d tell him no.

The handover dissolved into a dozen smaller conversations as the incoming day shift scattered across the department. You didn’t linger. Normally, you’d wait for Jack. The two of you would walk out together before splitting off towards your separate cars, stealing another ten minutes together before heading home to sleep through the day.

Today you slipped away before anyone noticed.

The locker room was almost empty, the last of the night shift filtering through in tired silence. You unlocked your locker, mechanically shoving your stethoscope into your backpack before reaching for the oversized grey hoodie folded on the shelf above.

The second you pulled it over your head, you froze. It smelled like him—laundry detergent, coffee, the faintest trace of the aftershave he’d been wearing for as long as you’d known him. You closed your eyes and for one awful second, all you wanted was to turn around, walk back inside and let him wrap his arms around you the way he always did after a difficult shift. To let him brush your hair back. To hear him ask if you’d eaten. To pretend you hadn’t heard a single word outside Exam Four.

Your throat tightened as you yanked your backpack onto one shoulder. You couldn’t do that to yourself.

The morning air was cool against your face as you stepped out of the hospital. Your car sat exactly where you’d left it twelve hours earlier. You dug through your bag for your keys.

“Hey.”

You closed your eyes for half a second before turning around. You knew that voice all too well.

Jack was walking towards you across the parking lot, his own backpack slung lazily over one shoulder. His expression softened when he reached you, something reserved just for you.

“There you are.”

“Doctor Abbot.” You offered a polite smile.

Again with the Doctor Abbot. He tried not to think about how strange it sounded coming from you. He lived the way you said his name, loved the sweet way it rolled off your tongue.

“How’re you doing?”

“I’m alright, thank you.”

“You look exhausted.”

“It was a busy shift.”

“It was.”

He studied your face for a moment and there it was again, that distance. Not obvious enough that anyone else would notice. But enough that it felt wrong. “You sure you’re okay?” He had to ask, had to make sure he wasn’t seeing things, that this coldness wasn’t just a figment of his imagination.

“I’m fine.” You nodded once, unable to let your gaze linger on him for too long. All it did was bring back the pain in your chest.

“Get some sleep when you get home.” He smiled gently, dismissing his confusion as overthinking.

“I will.”

“And…” He hesitated only briefly. “Make sure you eat something first.”

“Okay.”

Your fingers tightened around your car keys and for one cruel moment, Jack thought you might crumple into his arms the way that had become so natural for you.

But you didnt. You straightened up instead and started walking away without waiting for him to speak again.

“I’ll be home if you wanted to—” The words died in his throat.

You’d stopped walking. Ever so slowly, you turned back to face him. There wasn’t any anger on your face, that would’ve been easier, to deal with. Instead you looked almost painfully composed.

“You don’t need to concern yourself with what I do outside of the hospital.” The words slipped from your lips before you could soften them.

“What?” Jack blinked.

“You don’t have to remind me to eat.” Your voice remained calm, measured, professional. “Or ask where I’m going.” Gone was the warmth that wrapped around him when the two of you would speak.

He frowned, lips pulling down in the same way they did when he was stressing over a patient.

“I was only—”

“I know.” You nodded once, leaving no room for excuses. “But you’re my attending, Jack. You don’t need to worry about me once I leave this place.”

The words landed harder than you intended. For one awful moment you both stood in silence. Jack stared at you and the colour seemed to drain from his face.

“I…” For the first time all night, the ever-confident attending genuinely looked lost. “I didn’t mean to overstep.”

“You didn’t.” You forced another polite smile. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Doctor Abbot.”

Doctor Abbot. Not Jack, not anymore. The title echoed in his ears and he swallowed, hard.

“I’m sorry.”

You nodded once, then climbed into your car. The door shut with a muted thud and you rested both hands against the steering wheel. Your vision blurred almost instantly, but you refused to cry. Not here. You squeezed your eyes shut, fighting back the burn in them.

You wanted this. No—he wanted this. You just gave it to him.

Your hand instinctively reached for the door handle. For one ridiculous second you almost climbed back out. Almost walked across the parking lot. Almost wrapped your arms around him and told him none of this mattered. That you’d rather fight through the complications together than lose him completely.

“I think I’m going to end it.”

“It has to stay just sex… or nothing.”

Your hand fell away as though the handle had burned skin and you started the engine instead.

Jack never moved. He stood exactly where you’d left him, watching your car reverse out of its space, watching it disappear towards the hospital exit. His chest felt strangely hollow. He’d spent the last hour convincing himself he needed distance, needed boundaries, needed to stop letting things become so personal. So why did it feel so damn awful the second you actually gave him those boundaries?

He looked down at the empty parking space where your car had been only moments before and his jaw tightened.

‘It’s for the best.’ The thought came automatically. Like a script he’d been repeating to himself all morning. ‘She’ll be better off. She deserves someone who isn’t her attending. Someone who doesn’t carry thirty years of baggage.’

He repeated it again and again, trying desperately to believe it. It didn’t stop the sinking feeling in his chest. Or the awful suspicion that, somehow he’d just watched the best thing in his life drive away.

Your drive home passed in complete silence—no music, no podcasts, not even the familiar hum of the radio. You simply drove one set of lights after another, one turn after another. The journey that normally took twenty minutes somehow felt like five and you couldn’t remember a single part of it. Your body had gone through the motions while your mind remained somewhere outside Exam Four.

“Do you want it to be something more?” “No.”

You swallowed hard, wishing away the words refused to leave you alone.

By the time you pulled up, your apartment greeted you with the same quiet it always did. You locked the front door behind you, kicked your shoes off somewhere near the hallway and dropped your bag onto the kitchen counter without a second thought.

Usually, you’d start a shower, maybe make breakfast before crawling into bed. Today you didn’t have the energy. You wandered into the living room almost aimlessly before letting yourself fall onto the sofa. Just… collapsed.

The cushions dipped beneath your weight as you stared blankly at the ceiling. For a long while, you didn’t move. You just listened to the sound of your own breathing. The apartment suddenly felt much bigger than it had yesterday, much emptier.

You hugged one of the cushions against your chest, resting your forehead against the fabric as a humourless laugh escaped you.

“You absolute idiot.”

The words were barely louder than a whisper. You’d gone and done the one thing you promised yourself you wouldn’t. You’d fallen for him. It wasn’t a silly little crush, wasn’t infatuation. It was love—real, terrifying love. You loved the way he absentmindedly rubbed the bridge of his nose when he was reading scans. The way he quietly hummed to himself while making coffee. How every frightened child somehow ended up laughing within five minutes of meeting him. How he never made you feel stupid. How he’d celebrate every tiny success as though you’d personally discovered a cure for cancer. How he’d always remembered to ask if you’d eaten. How he’d tucked spare scrubs into one of his drawers because he knew, sooner or later, you’d forget another set.

You loved him. And apparently, he’d already decided to walk away.

“I really am an idiot.”

Your chest tightened painfully and your eyes burned. You blinked rapidly, forcing the tears back for what felt like the tenth time. You weren’t going to cry over someone who had already made his choice. You refused.

The vibration of your phone against the coffee table made you jump. You frowned as you read the contact name.

Jack. Of course it was Jack.

For one awful, hopeful second your heart leapt into your throat. Maybe… Maybe he’d changed his mind. Maybe he’d realised he needed you the way you did him.

You snatched the phone up before you could stop yourself.

Jack ❤️

Sweetheart. You alright? You get home okay?

You seemed quiet after shift. Just checking in.

You stared at the screen then let out a short, disbelieving scoff.

“…Seriously?”

You read it again and again until your eyes went dry and burned. Your stomach twisted each time. He still called you sweetheart, still checked in, still wanted to make sure you got home safely. All while simultaneously planning to end whatever this was.

Your thumb hovered over the keyboard and for a split second, you almost typed back.

I’m not okay.

Can we talk?

Why didn’t you just talk to me? Not Robby.

Instead you locked the screen, set the phone face down on the coffee table, and leaned back into the sofa.

“He made his decision.” The words sounded strange spoken aloud. “He was very clear. He doesn’t want this to become anything more.”

Your throat tightened impossibly and you let out another shaky breath.

“So… Have some dignity.”

It hurt to say. It hurt even more because you knew exactly what you had to do. No more staying late to chat. No more coffee after shifts. No more nights at his apartment. No more letting him brush your hair behind your ear or call you sweetheart like it meant something. If he wanted boundaries, you’d give him boundaries. If he wanted distance, you’d give him distance. If he wanted it to be over, you weren’t going to make him say it twice.

You swallowed hard and reached for the throw blanket draped over the arm of the sofa, pulling it around yourself despite the warmth of the apartment. It didn’t help, you’d never felt colder in your life.

Over the next five night shifts, the emergency department carried on exactly as it always had. Patients came and went in an endless stream. Ambulance sirens echoed through the bay at all hours of the night. Trauma calls interrupted half-finished coffees, nurses chased beds that didn’t exist, and the waiting room somehow never seemed to get any quieter.

On the surface nothing had changed. You still arrived ten minutes early. Still worked yourself to exhaustion. Still stayed calm under pressure. You laughed with Parker over badly brewed coffee and listened to Shen’s ridiculous stories when you passed him. You celebrated good outcomes, comforted frightened families and spent far too long trying to convince children that stitches weren’t nearly as scary as they sounded.

You were still exactly the doctor everyone expected you to be.

Except around Jack, everything had changed. The easy smiles disappeared. The playful teasing stopped. You no longer found reasons to wander over to him just to steal a bite of his lunch or complain about tour aching feet for five minutes. You didn’t linger after handovers. You didn’t wait for him before heading home. You stopped calling him Jack, it was always Doctor Abbot.

Nothing more, nothing less. Exactly the way every other resident addressed their attending.

You’d decided that if he wanted professional boundaries, you would give him every single one.

On day one, Jack noticed it almost immediately. It wasn’t enough to worry him. Just enough for him to notice. He found you outside Trauma Two, carefully reviewing a CT report while balancing a coffee in your free hand.

“Morning, sweetheart.”

You looked up and your eyes met his, except they were missing your usual cheeky sparkle.

“Oh—morning, Dr Abbot.”

“You surviving?” He smiled, trying to break the ice wall that had somehow surrounded you.

“I’m alright, thank you.”

“Good.” He nodded once with his hands clasped behind his back, unsure of how to carry on the conversation.

Before he could say anything else, you smiled politely then excused yourself to review another patient.

Jack watched you disappear around the corner. Long shift, he decided again. You were probably just tired.

On day two the department was overflowing, every room full, stretchers lining the halls.

“There you are.” Jack spotted you across the nurses’ station, relief evident in his voice.

“Doctor Abbot.” You looked over, still only giving him half of your attention.

“I was looking for you.”

“I’ve just been asked to review Bed Six.”

“I’ll walk over with—”

“I’ve got it.” You offered a brief smile before disappearing through the curtain.

Jack frowned slightly. Normally, you would’ve waited, asked about his patients, told him about yours. Instead, you’d barely looked at him.

On day three, the opportunity to talk presented itself twice. And both times you quietly avoided it.

The first was after a trauma call. You finished writing your notes before noticing Jack making his way towards you. Before he reached the desk, you abruptly stood, gave a quick “Shen asked me to review a patient.” And walked away.

The second came later that night. The two of you reached the break room at almost exactly the same time. You stopped and gestured politely towards the doorway.

“You go ahead.”

“Come on.” He grinned, the usual easygoing smirk pulling at his lips. “Grab a quick coffee with me.”

“No, it’s alright. I’ve got another patient waiting.”

By the time he’d frowned and stepped inside, you were already halfway across the nurses station. He stood there for a moment, confused, hands flexing against the stethoscope around his neck.

On day four, it happened during handover. Halfway through discussing a patient, Jack made one of his usual sarcastic comments about Shen somehow managing to consume all of Dunkin’s coffee supply.

Normally you would’ve laughed first, probably rolled your eyes, maybe even joined in. Instead you gave him nothing. You simply continued reading from your notes—professional, composed, detached.

Jack looked at you for a second longer than necessary, then realised something that made his stomach sink. He couldn’t remember the last time you’d smiled at him, not a real one. Not in days.

Day five, the shift itself passed uneventfully. Busy and exhausting. Just before seven in the morning, Jack finally caught you while you were packing away your stethoscope.

“There you are.”

You looked up from your locker as he stopped beside you, hands clasped behind his back in a way that made his beefy chest bulge against his scrub top

“Dr Abbot.” You forced the observation away, snapping your gaze literally anywhere else. It had been five days since you had touched him, your hand itched to rest against the firmness of his bicep.

“You heading home?” He smiled, desperately trying to ignore the title.

“Yes.”

He hesitated, then decided to stop overthinking it.

“I’ll be home.”

You looked at him in confusion for a moment before he spoke again.

“If you wanted to come round.”

He was met with silence, just for a second. And then you huffed out a breath that almost sounded like a laugh. His hopes skyrocketed. And then you opened your mouth.

“No thanks, Dr Abbot.”

Your voice wasn’t cold, it wasn’t angry. It was carefully neutral. You adjusted your backpack onto your shoulder and gave him one last polite smile.

“I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Then you walked away.

Jack didn’t move. He simply watched you disappear through the locker room door. The reaction he had gotten from you echoed around his head. He hadn’t heard his name from you in the last five days, not once. For the first time all week, he stopped telling himself you were just tired. Stopped blaming long shifts. Stopped convincing himself he’d imagined it.

This wasn’t exhaustion or stress. It wasn’t a long week. You were avoiding him, deliberately. And whatever had happened, It had happened the morning after he’d spoken to Robby. A cold knot settled heavily in his stomach. For the first time since that conversation, Jack wondered if somehow, without even realising it, he’d already started losing you.

By the time Jack pulled into the parking space outside his apartment, the morning rush had already begun. People hurried in and out of the neighbouring buildings, coffees clutched between tired hands, briefcases swinging at their sides as another workday started.

For everyone else the day was just beginning, for him it was over.

He switched the engine off and sat there for a moment. Normally, his phone would’ve buzzed by now with a text from you. Telling him you’d made it home. Or maybe a picture of whatever sad excuse for breakfast you’d managed to throw together before collapsing into bed. It would have been something, anything.

Today, just like every day since things began crumbling, he got nothing.

Jack sighed quietly before climbing out of the truck. His apartment greeted him with silence which wasn’t unusual for the most part. But this silence felt different. He locked the front door behind him before dropping his keys into the ceramic bowl beside it. They clinked loudly, too loudly. The noise kept ringing in his ears.

He shrugged off his backpack, kicked his shoe off and limped the familiar path towards his bedroom. Everything happened on autopilot, the same routine he’d followed thousands of times before. Only now every room reminded him of you. The spare mug sitting beside the coffee machine. The oat milk in the fridge. A spare toothbrush still tucked into the holder beside his own. One of your hair ties abandoned around the handle of the bathroom cabinet.

His chest tightened. He should’ve thrown those things away. If he was serious about ending whatever this was, he should’ve done it. Instead he’d left every single one exactly where you’d put it.

Jack sat carefully on the edge of the bed. His hands automatically reached for the fastening securing his prosthetic. The familiar clicks echoed softly through the room as he loosened the straps. After all these years, removing it had become second nature. One movement after another.

He leaned it carefully against the bedside table before rubbing absentmindedly at the skin beneath the liner. It ached, long shifts always made it ache.

Normally, this was about the point you’d wander into the bedroom. Hair damp from your shower. One of his t-shirts hanging far too big on your frame. You’d stand in the doorway watching him, never making a fuss. Just present. Sometimes you’d grab a clean wet towel and wipe at the stump below his knee before he even asked. Sometimes you’d quietly disappear into the kitchen to start the coffee. Sometimes you’d simply sit beside him, talking about absolutely nothing while he finished massaging the skin around the stump.

He’d never realised how comforting that had become until it wasn’t there anymore.

The shower he ended up taking was hotter than usual. Steam quickly filled the room as water pounded steadily against sore muscles. Jack rested one hand against the tiled wall, closing his eyes. For the first time all week, he let himself think—really think.

He replayed every interaction, every conversation, every strange look, every clipped response.

“Morning, Dr Abbot.”

“No thanks, Dr Abbot.”

“I’ll see you tomorrow, Dr Abbot.”

His jaw tightened so hard he may as well have chipped a tooth. You hadn’t called him Jack once, not once in five days. He frowned, wracking his brain for every detail he had missed.

What had changed? No, that wasn’t the right question. When had it changed?

His mind immediately went back. Five days, exactly five days. That morning immediately after his conversation with Robby. His stomach dropped as a sudden unsettling sensation washed over him and he sat perfectly still beneath the water. He wasn’t stupid, he had lived long enough to be able to piece two and two together. But surely not. You hadn’t—You couldn’t have heard him.

His breathing slowed and his heart began sinking further with every piece clicking into place—your sudden need to keep your distance, the polite professionalism in your voice, the way you hadn’t leaned into him once.

“Oh, Christ…”

The words left him before he could stop them. Had you heard? And if so, how much? All of it? Just the end? His mind raced faster that it ever had. If you’d heard him say the things he said…

Jack squeezed his eyes shut at the thought of your reaction. How hurt were you? Did you cry? God, he never wanted to make you cry.

He’d never even spoken to you, never asked how you felt, never explained. He’d simply decided for both of you.

His stomach twisted violently when another thought hit him. If you had only heard the end—if you hadn’t heard the beginning—you hadn’t heard him admit he looked forward to seeing you, that he loved being around you, that you’d become part of his life before he’d even realised it. You’d only have heard the rejection.

From your perspective, he’d been planning to throw you away, without warning, without a conversation.

Jack let out a slow, shaky breath. He understood now. The distance, the professionalism, the avoidance. You weren’t punishing him, you were protecting yourself. Exactly the same way he’d been trying to protect himself.

He reached up, dragging both hands down his face. Everything he’d done over the past week suddenly looked ridiculous. Checking if you’d eaten, calling you sweetheart, inviting you back to his apartment.

While you’d been quietly mourning a relationship you thought he’d decided to end, he’d expected you to keep acting like nothing had happened.

How unfair was that?

Jack switched the shower off and the apartment fell silent again. This time the silence felt suffocating. He got out and dressed slowly, pulling on an old T-shirt and a pair of sweats before making himself a coffee he had absolutely no intention of drinking.

He wandered into the living room with his crutches tucked under his arms, sat down, and immediately stood up again. He was restless. His eyes drifted towards the empty space on the couch, the one you’d usually occupy curled beneath the blanket while he read through journal articles or half-watched whatever documentary happened to be on television.

He’d told himself ending things would make life simpler. And yet he’d never felt more unsettled.

His phone sat on the small table beside the couch, no new notifications making it vibrate. He picked it up and with shaky hands, opened your messages.

He typed and deleted, typed again and deleted that too. He needed to make things right, to show you how much you meant to him. He switched the phone off with a shake of his head, damp curls dripping down his neck. This wasn’t a conversation for text, not after everything. Not after the hurt he’d caused. He owed you more than that. He owed you the chance he’d never given you in the first place.

Jack slipped his phone back into his pocket and made up his mind. Tomorrow night, neither of you were working, no shifts, no patients, no excuses. He was going to your apartment, and if he had to stand outside your front door for an hour until you agreed to speak to him… Then that’s exactly what he was going to do. Because Jack Abbott wasn’t trying to figure out how to end whatever this was. He was trying to figure out whether there was still enough left to save.

The following evening passed far quieter than the five before it. No trauma calls, no fluorescent lights buzzing above your head. Just the soft murmur of an audiobook drifting from the speaker in your kitchen and the occasional turn of a page.

You’d claimed your usual spot on the kitchen counter, one leg swinging lazily over the edge while the other was tucked comfortably beneath you. An open paperback rested in your lap, its spine already beginning to soften from how many times you’d read it, and an apple sat in one hand. You’d barely made it through another chapter before lifting the fruit to your mouth for another bite.

Silence settled around the apartment again. For the first time in nearly a week, you felt almost peaceful. Not happy, you weren’t anywhere near happy. But the ache in your chest had dulled enough that you could finally sit still without replaying the conversation outside Exam Four over and over again.

You turned another page, eyes glued to the words when three firm knocks echoed through the apartment. Your brows knitted together. You weren’t expecting anyone, Parker usually texted first, your neighbour never knocked, delivery drivers always buzzed. Setting your bookmark between the pages, you slipped from the counter and padded barefoot across the wooden floor.

The knocks came again and you sighed at the impatience.

“I’m coming, Jesus.” You unlocked the deadbolt before pulling the door open and freezing, apple still clutched in one hand.

Jack Abbot stood on the other side in dark jeans and his usual black t-shirt, hands shoved awkwardly into his pockets. For once, he looked like he had absolutely no idea what to say.

You blinked then glanced down at the half-eaten apple still sitting in your hand and a dry laugh escaped you before you could stop it.

“I thought an apple a day kept the doctor away.”

For a split second Jack just stared at you. Then the corner of his mouth twitched, he looked dangerously close to laughing. At the same time, his eyes betrayed him, flickering over you before he could stop them. Not in a way that made you uncomfortable. More familiar. You were wearing the little satin pyjama set he’d always quietly loved—the pale blue shorts with the matching camisole you’d worn countless times at his apartment between shifts.

He’d always thought you looked impossibly comfortable in it, like home. That and you looked sexy as hell.

“Hi.” He dragged his gaze back to your face almost immediately, blush inching its way up his neck.

He was met with silence. The most awkward silence. Neither of you moved until you sighed and folded your arms over your chest.

“What are you doing here?”

“I…” Jack rubbed the back of his neck. “Can we talk?”

“I don’t think there’s much left to talk about.” Your expression didn’t change even if your heart was currently doing backflips in your chest

“There is.”

“No.” You tightened your grip on the door. “I think you’ve said everything you wanted to say.”

“You heard.” Jack’s face fell at the confirmation of his theory. It wasn’t really a question.

“Heard enough.” You smiled, but there wasn’t any warmth behind it. Your stomach twisted at the memory, at the way he so easily said he didn’t want to be with you, that he was going to end it.

“I’m not doing this on the doorstep.”

“Neither am I.” He took a small step forward. “That’s why I came.”

“I don’t really have anything else to say, Jack.” You shook your head, lips pulling into a tight line.

For the first time in days you’d called him Jack and it hurt more than either of you expected. It didn’t give him that warm feeling he had been missing in his chest. It didn’t make his stomach flutter in excitement. It grabbed at his lungs and squeezed so hard it hurt to breathe.

You started to close the door, already done with the conversation. Before it reached the frame, Jack’s boot slipped gently into the gap. The door stopped with a soft thud against the sole of his shoe.

You looked down then back up at him and shook your head.

“Jack.”

“I know.” His voice was quiet. “I know that’s probably the last thing you want.”

“You’d be right.”

“I deserve that.”

“You do.”

He nodded once, accepting it without argument. “But please…” There was something almost painfully sincere in his expression now. No teasing, no attending, no carefully composed doctor. Just Jack. “Please let me explain.”

You looked at him for a long moment. He looked exhausted, both physically and emotionally. Like he’d spent the last five days carrying something far heavier than a twelve-hour shift.

Your grip on the door tightened and you tried to stand your ground, tried not to give in the the voice in your head screaming at you to let him in.

“You made your decision.”

“I thought I had.”

“And now?”

“Now I know I made it without talking to the one person who deserved to be part of it.”

Jack swallowed hard, jaw tensing as his lips twisted into that silly little pout he did when he didn’t know what to say. Silence settled between you again, heavy and thick.

“I’ve been an idiot.” He let out a quiet, self-deprecating breath as his eyes searched yours. “A spectacular one. I’m not asking you to forgive me. I’m not asking you to agree with me. I’m just asking for ten minutes. So I can tell you what you didn’t hear.”

The apartment remained quiet behind you. The hallway equally still in front of you. For the first time since opening the door, you hesitated. The brave girl act you had been hiding behind was cracking and you didn’t know if you were strong enough to keep it together.

Finally, you stepped back from the doorway, inviting him in with a nod of your head. Relief flickered across his face. It disappeared almost as quickly when you held up a hand before he’d made it more than two steps into the apartment.

“No.” Your voice was steady, confident in the same way he had always admired. “I’m talking first.”

Jack nodded immediately, hands up in surrender.

“Okay.”

“You don’t interrupt.”

“I won’t.”

“You don’t get to explain until I’m done.”

“I promise.”

You closed the front door behind him, turning the lock more out of habit than anything else before walking back towards the living room. You couldn’t sit. You tried for about three seconds, then you were pacing—three steps towards the window, three steps back towards the sofa. Your bare foot tapped anxiously against the hardwood floor every time you stopped, your leg bouncing so hard it was almost impossible to keep still.

Jack noticed every single movement. He knew your tells, he’d spent months learning them without even realising he had. The pacing, the bouncing leg, the way your fingers twisted nervously around themselves. You only ever did that when something was really wrong.

His stomach twisted hard enough to make him sick. This wasn’t anger, this was hurt—deep, genuine hurt.

You finally stopped walking, folding your arms tightly across your chest as though trying to hold yourself together.

“I heard enough.”

“I know.” Jack lowered his head.

“I heard Robby ask if you wanted this to become something more. I heard you say no.” Every word you spoke sounded calmer than you felt. “I heard you say it had to stay just sex…” Your voice caught despite yourself. “…or nothing.”

Jack closed his eyes briefly, heart aching at the utter pain in your voice.

“I heard you say you were going to end it. So…” you shrugged helplessly. “That was nice. I spent months thinking…” You swallowed hard. “Thinking maybe I wasn’t imagining it. You bought oat milk because I liked it. You kept spare scrubs for me. You made coffee every morning after shift. You’d text me to make sure I’d eaten. You’d hold me all afternoon while we slept.”

Your eyes finally met his, wet with the unshed tears you’d been holding back.

“And I thought…” You laughed again, wiping angrily at your cheek before a tear could properly fall. “I thought maybe it meant something.”

“It did.” Jack looked devastated.

“You don’t get to say that.” The words came much sharper than you’d intended. “You don’t get to say that now.”

Another tear escaped despite your best efforts and you brushed it away impatiently.

“I was already falling for you. So hearing you decide…” You gestured vaguely between the two of you. “…all of this, without even asking me…”

Your chin trembled with the effort of keeping your jaw clenched.

“…it really hurt, Jack.”

Jack took one instinctive step towards you. You didn’t step back, but you didn’t step forward either. You just stood there looking at him, trying so desperately not to cry.

“You made the decision for both of us.” Another tear rolled down your cheek. “You never even asked what I wanted.”

Jack’s own eyes had begun to shine, a little red around the edges.

“I know.”

“I would’ve liked the chance to make that decision too.” Your breathing hitched and a small gasp caught in your throat. “I deserved that.”

“You did.” The admission came immediately, without hesitation. “You absolutely did.”

Your shoulders finally sagged, body too tired to keep itself standing tall.

“I loved what we had.” The words were barely above a whisper now. I loved sleeping beside you, I loved making coffee with you, I loved working with you. I loved…”

You stopped yourself too late, eyes widening a fraction as you brought your fingers up over your lips. Jack had heard it, heard what was about to leave your mouth. He took another slow step.

“So when you stood there and said it was just sex? It made me feel…” You shook your head, brows furrowed as you tried to put together the right words. “So unbelievably stupid.”

Jack couldn’t take it anymore, he could feel pieces of his heart chipping away with every word you spoke.

“Sweetheart…” His voice broke.

You glared at him through blurred vision, not wanting to accept the way that stupid name falling from his mouth made you melt.

“You hurt me.”

“I know.”

“You really hurt me.”

“I know, honey.”

This time when he moved closer, you let him. Not because you weren’t still angry. Because some part of you was simply too tired to move away. Jack lifted one hand slowly, giving you every opportunity to stop him. When you didn’t, his thumb caught the salty tear halfway down your cheek. The touch was impossibly soft.

“I’m so sorry.”

You squeezed your eyes shut, shaking your head as you kept your mouth firmly shut.

“I know saying that doesn’t fix it.” His other hand came up carefully, cupping the opposite side of your face. “And I’m not apologising because you heard what I said, I’m apologising because I was wrong.”

You looked back at him, his expression being one of complete heartbreak.

“I thought…” He laughed bitterly at himself. “I genuinely thought I was protecting you.”

“You don’t get to decide what protects me.”

“I know, Sweetheart. I know that now.” His thumbs continued wiping away the tears you couldn’t seem to stop. “I’ve spent five days replaying that conversation over and over. I was so damn convinced I was doing the right thing.”

“For who?”

The question landed quietly and Jack’s eyes dropped. He knew the answer to this question, knew it would make him seem like more of a dick.

“I told myself…” His voice cracked. “…it was for you. But if I’m honest? It was for me.

You frowned, blinking through more tears as you tried to make sense of what he was trying to say.

“I was terrified.” He finally admitted it aloud. “I’m your attending. I’m almost fifteen years older than you. If anyone found out…”

He laughed shakily, moving just that tiny bit closer. Close enough that you could feel his breath on your face every time he exhaled.

“I kept imagining your career ending because of me. I kept imagining everyone saying I’d taken advantage of you. I couldn’t…” His jaw tightened. “I couldn’t bear the idea of being the reason you lost everything you’ve worked for.”

Your anger softened, only slightly. You were still hurt that he had convinced himself that his decision was for you, when in reality he was clearing his own guilty conscience. But you also know Jack wasn’t a bad man. Sure he could do with some healthy communication tips, but he wasn’t selfish, wasn’t heartless or evil.

“So instead…” Your voice wavered. “…you decided to lose me before anyone else could make it happen.”

Jack looked like you’d physically winded him. “Yeah.” The single word came out broken. “I did.”

Another tear escaped you and he caught it with his thumb before it reached your jaw.

“I’m so sorry, honey.” He rested his forehead lightly against yours. “I’ve never wanted to hurt you.”

“I know.” Your answer surprised both of you. “I know you didn’t. But you still did, and that’s not okay.”

“I know.” Jack nodded, his hands never leaving your face. “And if you’ll let me…” He searched your eyes desperately. “I’d like the chance to spend the rest of my life making up for it.”

Your forehead rested still against his. The apartment felt impossibly still, save for the occasional shaky breath you couldn’t quite steady. Jack’s thumbs continued brushing beneath your eyes, wiping away tears almost as quickly as they fell. You let him. For the first time in almost a week, you let him.

After another long silence, you finally spoke.

“If we do this. If we try again…”

“I’m listening.” Jack looked at you immediately and nodded once.

You took a slow breath, trying to compose yourself.

“I have conditions.”

“Okay.” A tiny smile tugged at the corner of his mouth.

“No.” You spotted it instantly and shook your head, lips pulling into a frustrated pout. “I mean it.”

“So do I.” He squeezed your hand gently. “What are they?”

You looked down at the floor for a moment before finding the courage to meet his eyes again. “I don’t want to be…” You swallowed. “A secret hookup anymore.”

His smile disappeared.

“I don’t want to feel like the person you hide.” Another tear ran down your cheek. “I don’t want to sneak into your apartment after every shift and pretend I don’t exist once we walk through the hospital doors.”

Jack listened without saying a word.

“I want…” Your voice grew smaller. “I want dates.” You laughed quietly through your tears, embarrassed by how vulnerable it sounded. “I want you to actually ask me out. I want flowers every now and then. I want stupid little dinners where we complain about work. I want someone to know I’m the reason you’ve got that ridiculous smile on your face.”

You wiped at your cheek again.

“I want to be loved loudly.”

The apartment fell silent and you searched his face nervously, suddenly unsure of everything you had just asked for.

“If that’s too much then just tell me now.”

“It isn’t.”

“If you can’t—”

“It isn’t.” His answer came so softly it almost stole the breath from your lungs. “It isn’t too much.” He stepped closer again, smiling through eyes that were suspiciously glassy themselves. “It’s exactly what you deserve.”

You inhaled sharply as your jaw wobbled, a whimper threatening to leave your lips.

“I spent so long convincing myself loving you would ruin your life.” He laughed quietly at himself. “I never stopped to ask whether loving you properly might actually make it better. I’ll take you on dates.” His hand found yours again. “I’ll bring you flowers. I’ll hold your hand in public. I’ll tell people how proud I am of you. If you’re comfortable with it, I’ll never make you feel like something I have to hide again.”

Your eyes filled all over again, shoulders shaking from the effort of not letting out a sound.

“Oh, sweetheart…” Jack smiled sadly. “You’re crying harder.”

“I know.”

“You’ve got to stop breaking my heart.”

“I’m trying.” You laughed through a sob.

“I know you are.”

His arms opened without another word and this time you didn’t hesitate, you practically fell into them. The second his arms wrapped around you, every ounce of strength you’d been clinging to finally disappeared. You buried your face against the side of his neck, your fingers clutching desperately at the back of his T-shirt.

Jack held you like he’d been afraid you wouldn’t let him ever again. One hand settled securely between your shoulder blades, the other slipped gently into your hair. His fingertips scratched lightly against your scalp in slow, comforting circles. He knew how much you loved it.

“There she is,” His voice was barely above a whisper, muffled against the side of your head. “My pretty thing. My sweet baby.”

You let out a shaky breath against his neck and he smiled to himself, holding you even tighter against him.

“There you are. My pretty crybaby.”

A muffled, offended little sound escaped you and Jack laughed quietly.

“I know.” He kissed the top of your head, his fingers never stopping moving. “I know. So beautiful. So brave. So stubborn. And somehow…” He pressed another lingering kiss against your hairline. “still willing to give this old man another chance.”

“I suppose I am.” You huffed a watery laugh.

“I’ll spend every day earning it.”

You stayed like that for another minute, just breathing, just existing in each others arms. Eventually, you pulled back enough to look at him. Your cheeks were flushed, eyes still glossy, hair thoroughly messed up from his fingers.

“What?” Jack muttered as he brushed another stray tear away with his thumb.

You searched his face carefully.

“You called me” Your voice came out almost timid. “your pretty crybaby.”

“I did.”

“I’m yours?” Your brows knitted together.

The question was so small, so hopeful, so raw. Jack felt his heart melt. He cupped your face once more, smiling in that quiet, impossibly gentle way that had made you fall in love with him in the first place. He leaned forward until his forehead rested against yours again.

“If you’ll have me,” he whispered, pressing another kiss to your forehead. “You’re my girl. And I’m very, very lucky that you’ll let me be your man.”

fangirl-dot-com

Lacy, oh, Lacy

summary: the three times jack abbot compared you to someone else vs. the one time you were exactly who he wanted but couldn't have anymore.

tags: jack abbot x reader, angst, deep insecurities, jack compares you to samira, robby, and his late-wife (I named her alice), a few scene changes but it's for the plot, trying out [name] but if I don't like it, it's back to y/n for all of you, jack is lowkey an asshole on accident (thinks he's meaning well by complimenting others, but tears you apart in the process), medical inaccuracies, hurt/no comfort (at least for jack), eventual breakup, special end scene guest star, age gape (28-32/50), heavily inspired by lacy by olivia rodrigo (which I suggest listening to while you read) and all the feels that come with that, 18+ MDNI

notes: this hurt to write, and this better hurt y'all in the best angsty way possible! just a reminder that my requests for the hatosyverse are open, and that I'm doing smutty blurbs to build my writing abilities, enjoy!

word count: 7.4k

apfelkernchen

Interlude: Your husband is very well connected within the PTMC

Dr. Jack Abbot x (female) reader | Dr. Jack Abbot x you

Summary: News that changes everything - and one exhausted husband who needs a minute to catch up.

A/N: I'm no longer updating the taglist because Tumblr has been glitching way too much lately. If you don't want to miss any updates, feel free to turn on notifications for my posts! <3

Link to "You stole my cart" master list (1)

Link to "You stole my cart" master list (2)

Previous chapter: Part 135: So, let's drop the charade, okay?

tw1sters

Fight or Flirt (Part Two)

There are many things Scott has given you in a short period of time: migraines, high blood pressure, and a son you would do anything for. A son he doesn’t know exists. Cutting him off was hard enough — welcoming him home might be worse.

▸ PAIRING: Ex-FWB!Scott Miller x F!Reader ▸ WARNINGS: NSFW 18+, former situationship to baby daddy to lovers (all at the same time tbh), fingering, slight degradation and dumbification, oral (f!receiving), pussy pronouns, bickering is their foreplay, breeding kink, mean in bed!scott, grumpy scott in general, hurt/comfort, emotionally avoidant!reader, miscommunication (my favorite, of course) ▸ WORD COUNT: 14.1K ▸ A/N: wowowow this is the second and final part of this story!!!! thank you so much for all the love in the first one <3 i'm glad we're all hyperfixated on this man who has no screen time together. i wrote this over a month ago but i've been rereading it aggressively to make sure it's good to free into the world. one of my fave things i've written and i fucking love scott my angsty husband <33 i hope you enjoy. if you do, please comment and reblog, i'd love to hear your thoughts!!!!

↤ main masterlist | part one

“I extended my trip.”

It’s the first thing you hear when Scott shoulders past you in the evening. You’re still standing, shell-shocked by the door, trying to comprehend how this man is in your apartment hours past his supposed flight time. He comes in bearing paper bags with your local fancy grocery store stamped onto the front.

Scott has never grocery shopped a day in his life.

apfelkernchen

So let’s drop the charade, okay?

Dr. Jack Abbot x (female) reader | Dr. Jack Abbot x you

Summary: A new job opportunity - and everyone around you is acting much weirder about it than the situation calls for.

A/N: I'm no longer updating the taglist because Tumblr has been glitching way too much lately. If you don't want to miss any updates, feel free to turn on notifications for my posts! <3

Link to "You stole my cart" master list (1)

Link to "You stole my cart" master list (2)

Previous chapter: Part 134: Do I look like a man who cares?

apfelkernchen

Do I look like a man who cares?

Dr. Jack Abbot x (female) reader | Dr. Jack Abbot x you

Summary: Jack tries to help his wife - and learns that favors from Robby always come with a price.

A/N: I'm no longer updating the taglist because Tumblr has been glitching way too much lately. If you don't want to miss any updates, feel free to turn on notifications for my posts! <3

Link to "You stole my cart" master list (1)

Link to "You stole my cart" master list (2)

Previous chapter: Interlude: Tell Me About It (The Jack Sessions - Part IX)

robbys-glasses

Let me give you what you want

Pairing - Jealous!possessive?Jack Abbot x f!reader

Summary - Jack broke his situationship with you, no strings attached, you end up with Brendan Park which sparks up some jealousy in Jack

Warnings - SMUT, unprotected p in v, oral (f receiving), brief handjob, mentions of creampies

Notes - none, enjoyy 🫶

———————

No strings attached — it’s what Jack wanted, your “situationship” had only lasted 4 months, unfortunately for you, you had developed feelings for Jack, he had a way of caring for you, making your situationship with him feel more like a relationship.

Spending the night at each others place, the way he’d drift off into his sleep after spending hours buried into you, dumping his cum into you as he whispered the sweetest words into you, calling you a good girl as you took his cock, moaning into his ear when he’d pile-drive into you as if you hadn’t been fucked in months.

When he came to you about ending things, it shattered you, all the time you spent together, not to mention your feelings for him that you never brought up to him, with the fear that this exact thing would happen.

Just a month later, you caught someone else’s attention, Brendan Parks attention. What started off as friendly conversations turned into a first date with sex for dessert.

Jack watched as you and Brendan slowly got affectionate at work, drive by kisses to your cheek, checking up on you, ‘boyfriend-y’ things. What got Jack jealous was eavesdropping on one of your conversations.

Brendan decided to ask a question, one that not even Jack ever dared to ask you because of how bold it was, “What if I put a baby in you ? I can already imagine you all round and full, a baby Park by chance ?” Brendan said with a smile. You laughed nervously, your little ‘thing’ with him had only been going on for a month, but it got him hard just thinking about it. Dumping his cum into you, you showing him a positive pregnancy test within a month of that.

You loved the idea of it, but your sex with both of them was completely different. You and Jack never used condoms, or you’d at least forget about them 95% of the time, constant creampies with him, never forgetting to tell him that you wanted him to finish inside of you, how much you loved being filled with his cum, walking around with it staining your panties as it ran down your legs. With Brendan however, you were so diligent about using protection. So was it Brendan’s baby you wanted to have ? Or Jacks ?

You’d get asked how the sex was with Brendan, it was great, fantastic even. Unfortunately for you, half of your orgasms were faked, that was until you found yourself imagining Jack on top of you instead of Brendan, it helped you finish when Brendan’s cock wasn’t doing it for you. You had gone 2 weeks with having to fake them, then your first orgasm with ‘Jack’ had you biting down on Brendan’s shoulder, the way your body convulsed under his, unbeknownst to him that you were having sex with Jack in your head. The way that Jack would fuck you through your orgasms while Brendan would stop once your orgasm snapped. How Jack would whisper “oh fuck, that’s my good girl” as soon as he felt you tightening around him, your body’s way of telling him that you were close.

If Jack wanted to make you moan a certain way, or have you gasping in his ear, he knew how and where to touch you, he knew how to draw those shuddered moans out of you, how to make you cum within 5 minutes, he knew how to have you clinging onto him, like your life depended on it.

One night however, everyone went out for drinks. You and Brendan went together, you wore Jack’s favorite dress, hoping he’d be there, not entirely sure why you were hoping he would be.

You stood with the girls, gossiping about anything and anyone from work. Your eyes scanned the bar, Brendan was talking with his orthopedic surgery group, a drink in his hand, you looked away before your eyes met Jack’s familiar figure as he walked up to your little group.

You greeted each other, despite your little relationship with Brendan, you and Jack managed to be cordial with one another, after all, your situationship ended in a mutual agreement.

“Sooo…how’s the sex ?”, Jack asked, taking a sip of his drink.

“Excuse me ?” You said almost spitting your drink out.

You stared at each other, Jack leaned in, whispering in your ear, “does he talk you through it ? Does he fuck you through your orgasms ? Is it me who you imagine being on top of you when he’s inside you ?”

He hit the nail right on the head. You hated to admit that he left that mark on you, that while the sex with Brendan was fantastic, it wasn’t Jack, it wasn’t Brendan giving you multiple rounds in one night like Jack would, soaking the bedsheets even more then what they already were, it wasn’t Brendan, but Jack telling you “one more” after each orgasm.

“Let me give you what you want. A relationship, a ring, a baby or two, with the person you actually want it with”, that last bit of the sentence hit you hard.

“You were the one who wanted to end what we had because you didn’t want what Brendan and I have now, ‘no strings attached’”, you watched as Jack stayed silent. Hoping you had forgotten about that.

“Maybe seeing you with someone else changed my mind”, he admitted. He always thought he wasn’t the jealous type, at least not with Brendan, turns out, he was.

“Come on, be honest with yourself, do you really think you want to be pregnant with his child ?”, you thought about of his words carefully.

He could see the want, the need for him in your eyes. The way you looked at him with hunger. How your pussy pulsated, clenched around nothing but the thought of Jack inside of you, fulfilling your needs in ways that Brendan couldn’t. Jack didn’t need verbal confirmation from you to know that you were coming home with him, instead, he grabbed your hand and bag from behind you as he looked back at Brendan who was too busy talking to his friends to notice you.

The drive home was quiet. Jacks hand laid still on the inside of your thigh, his thumb caressed your skin, you’d look over to him, accidentally making eye contact with him before rolling your eyes and looking away.

You finally reached his place again, watching as he got out of the car and walked to your side of the car, opening your door and holding his hand out for yours, walking you both up to his door, his place was untouched. Everything appeared the same as when you were both still together all those months back.

He stood behind you as you stared down the hall, his hand moving your hair out of the way before his lips met your neck, leaving a trail of warm wet kisses, drawing quiet moans out of you. His hands traveled down your body, fingers teasing at your waistline before lifting your dress up, your back flushed to the wall, you watched as Jack got on his knees, his eyes stayed on you, admiring you as he pulled your panties down. He brought his face closer to your center, leaving gentle kisses along your thigh crease, your moans shuddered as he kissed along your thigh before hooking your leg over his shoulder.

“Oh fuck, Jack-“, your head making a thudding sound as it hit the wall, his wet tongue lapped at your soaking pussy. Your fingers threaded through his curls, pulling him in, wanting more.

“Please, need you in me” you pleaded, watching as he stood up. His hands on your thighs, tapping the back of your thigh, signaling you to jump up, you grabbed his neck, securing yourself as he walked you both over to the couch.

You felt his hardened cock through his pants as he sat down, he unbuckled his pants, pulling his boxers down as his cock sprung free. Pumping him for a minute, you teased your entrance to lubricate him with your arousal before you lined him up with your wet hole, you sank down on his cock, the familiar stretch that still made your back arch.

“Wearing my favorite dress—expect me not to bury myself in you ?”, he said teasingly, fucking you relentlessly as he played with the straps of your dress, pulling them down as he sucked on your nipples.

“Fuck, Jack, I’m gonna-“ before you could finish, you felt his arms squeeze you tightly against him, like he was afraid of losing you, like you’d vanish into thin air.

Jack let out a breathy laugh, maintaining his bruising pace. “oh fuck, that’s my good girl” He whispered, feeling you squeeze his cock.

You squeezed your eyes shut as your orgasm came crashing. Your body went limp, draping your arms around his shoulders. He grunted as his thrusts faltered at the feeling of your pulsing walls, grunting as he came undone, your hips still moving against his as you felt his cum fill you up.

He slouched against the couch, staring at you, chest’s heaving as you both came down from your highs. “I’m not done with you yet, just the first of many tonight” he said, lifting you up with him as he carried you both to his room, still laid out the same as when you both together.

Jack carefully laid you down, still hard inside you, cradling his head in your shoulder, “so, does he fuck you round after round like I do ?” slowly pulling out of you, sitting up, waiting for you to answer, “answer me”, he said sternly.

You shook your head, “no, Jack, he doesn’t, he’s nothing like you”, you bucked your hips towards him, trying to fuck yourself onto him. Instead, he grabbed one of your hips and pulled you down until your thighs were flush with his.

He placed his hand just beside your face, his body hovered over yours as he caressed your cheek with the other, “I’m gonna fuck a baby into you until you come to me with 2 pink lines, give you a ring and a wedding before you give birth”, his tone was promising.

“Whatever you say, Jack”, you responded, leaning in to kiss him as he shoved his cock back into you, causing you to gasp, “ohhh—fuckk, Jack”, your pussy still sensitive from your previous orgasm.

He continued to assault your pussy, your body clinging onto his, filling the room with “oh fuckk’s”, the sound of skin slapping against each other.

Jack watched as his cock disappeared inside of you, the slight belly bulge that appeared on your lower abdomen, he looked you, peppering kisses all over your face, “god I missed you, missed this pretty little pussy of yours, missed all of you, can never let someone else fuck you the wrong way again”.

His sweet little words getting you closer to the edge, he felt you tighten around him again, “Jack, Jack, oohhh fuckk—“, tears pricking down your eyes, your orgasm hitting a little harder the second time.

His thrusts never faltered, “let go, sweetheart, I’ve got you” he said sweetly, his movements slowing down but never coming to a stop, he grabbed your thigh as he hooked it over his waist and caressed it, finally stopping to give you a moment to breathe again, “god you’re beautiful”.

Jack was true to his words and actions. Giving you multiple rounds that night, claiming you as his again, never failing to pull an orgasm after every round regardless of how sensitive you were after each one, making sure you ended up pregnant with his child sooner or later.

lovaeir

DON’T MARRY HIM

mdni 18+, wc: 4.5k

warnings: infidelity, probably spelling errors bc this isn’t proofread loll, female reader, afab, unprotected p in v, angst, incorrect medical terms, I think that’s it if not, let me know please, enjoy! <3

summary: when jack spots the new shiny ring on your finger after a year of letting you go, he freaks out and realizes he made the biggest mistake of his life.

alrisyl

𝙞𝙩 𝙢𝙞𝙜𝙝𝙩 𝙗𝙚 𝙬𝙝𝙖𝙩 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙩𝙝𝙞𝙣𝙠…

pairings: clark kent x fem! reader

summary: it might be what you think it is!

warnings: angst, relationship distress, dynamic neglect, severe public panic, physical injury (head trauma, bleeding, concussion), and mild themes of endangerment/near death experience.

notes: i was gonna add more but it wouldve been wayyyyyy to long.. so pt3 when?! also slightly proofread!!

wc: 1.9k

𓂃₊ ⊹ part 1

the elevator doors slid shut cutting off the desperate echoes of clark’s voice.

the moment the steel walls enclosed you, your composure completely broke.

you collapsed against the mirrored wall of the elevator, sliding down until you hit the cold floor.

apfelkernchen

That's not a happy face. So let's fix this, okay?

Dr. Jack Abbot x (female) reader | Dr. Jack Abbot x you

Summary: Between difficult daycare drop-offs and endless job rejections... everything becomes a little too much.

A/N: I'm no longer updating the taglist because Tumblr has been glitching way too much lately. If you don't want to miss any updates, feel free to turn on notifications for my posts! <3

Link to "You stole my cart" master list (1)

Link to "You stole my cart" master list (2)

Previous chapter: Part 132: Yeah, I'm a doctor. I give medical advice.I don't follow it.

apfelkernchen

That's not a happy face. So let's fix this, okay?

Dr. Jack Abbot x (female) reader | Dr. Jack Abbot x you

Summary: Between difficult daycare drop-offs and endless job rejections... everything becomes a little too much.

A/N: I'm no longer updating the taglist because Tumblr has been glitching way too much lately. If you don't want to miss any updates, feel free to turn on notifications for my posts! <3

Link to "You stole my cart" master list (1)

Link to "You stole my cart" master list (2)

Previous chapter: Part 132: Yeah, I'm a doctor. I give medical advice.I don't follow it.

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