Shoot! I— I wasn’t raised there, so— I WASN'T RAISED THERE. Why am I talking louder? Clark, shut up or else I'll fall deeper in love and admiration for you!
the pitt x younger!attending!fem!reader | jack abbot x younger!attending!fem!reader
a mandatory soccer cup game never hurts the soul
wc: 4.4k
cw: swearing, lots of fun, this is basically me writting something to distract myself from the mess my life is atm, mentions of alcohol and being tipsy, probably some soccer mistakes were made, shen and ellis mentioned to sing like a prayer, kingdon crumbs, princess and perlah my loves, mateo x javadi crumbs, kinda tried to write down how dr j's vlog would've turned out, sappy ending, established relationship, reader is younger but still an attending so like in her 30's, reader gets her hair into braids i tried to be non specific but apologies in advace if it's not, reader and shen are besties and are referred as 'terror twins', shen and reader have a dunkin addiction
“and before you guys leave, remember that next saturday is the last game of the annual hospital soccer cup” a chorus of groans filled the room as gloria finished up her speech
“do we have to go?” santos asked from the back of the room
“yes. it is a mandatory activity for every present member” she clarified, “your new uniforms are being brought tomorrow morning. i am going to be sending them with someone as soon as they arrive. dr robby and dr abbot will be in charge of organizing the teams, so any game related question has to be addressed directly to them” jack smiled, crossing his arms “any other question?” gloria asked and when no one said anything else, she finished the meeting, telling everyone to go back to their jobs
dennis, victoria, and trinity were the firsts to leave the room. santos was groaning, saying how annoying it would be having to play soccer on her afternoon off, dennis just nodded while victoria murmured that it might be a good thing to unwind and have a bit of fun. you also heard her say–mostly to herself–something about recording a video about the game
parker and mel left after them, the latter anxious for having to play a sport for the first time without having any practise at all while the former tried to reassure her, telling her that nobody–with the exception of you and shen–was taking this seriously. shen followed right after them, reminding ellis how ptmc had won last year’s cup thanks to him and you. samira, cassie, and you were the next to leave the room. samira was quiet for a second, opening and closing her mouth a couple of times before finally speaking up, “i don’t want to play” you laughed, mouth half full with a protein bar “don’t laugh at me,” she chuckled “i’m being serious, i have two left feet”
“don’t worry, mira” you licked your lips “if you want me to cover for you, just say the word”
she chuckled again, “no, don’t do that. if you do that i won’t be able to go and laugh my ass off mocking you and shen”
your mouth opened in disbelief, “i don’t wanna sound like shen, but i’ll have you know that ptmc has won that cup for the last three years thanks to us”
“you sound exactly like him” mckay chimed in, finally looking up from her phone “i bet you twenty bucks that abbot puts me in as goalie this year”
“i’ll take you up on that,” you said just as ahmad looked up with an excited grin “is this a new bet i’m hearing?”
“yes, it is” cassie chuckled “next saturday's the last game. i say; i’m the goalie. trouble here,” she pointed at you, “scores twice, and the game ends at 4-2”
“who wins?” he asked
“obviously us” cassie said with a mock-offended tone
“i’m want in.” you licked your lips “put me there for fifty,” ahmad smiled and you heard mateo from behind you saying damn, “cass is the goalie, i score twice, mel scores once, and the game ends 6-2 on our favor”
“overconfident much?” mateo asks with a playful tone
“honey, i’m an er doctor. overconfidence is my middle name”
the rest of the week went flying by, a couple of weird cases back and forth kept you busy the majority of the days. not that it was an uncommon thing, the day shift, even with the fact that it was the ed, was a bit predictable. it had a bit of a structure. meanwhile, the night shift was the opposite, it could be pure chaos or the most boring twelve hours of your life. tonight was more the latter than the former. it was almost five am and you had spent the last half hour playing with tiktok filters on shen’s phone, and although it had been fun for a while, it was starting to annoy you. so, you decided to do what any reasonable person would do, “you want a donut or not?” you asked ellis, who was sitting down in front of a computer trying to win a solitaire game
“yes, please” she nodded without turning to you, “make sure you grab the raspberry jam one. and also bring me a coffee”
“yeah, fine. does anybody else want anything?” you asked around and after five minutes, you already had everyone’s orders typed down on your notes app. shen made sure to grab your car keys from your locked while you walked around asking what everybody wanted, so you left quickly, making your way to dunkin donuts before jack could notice your absence
the drive to and back had been quick. you parked in the reserved spots in the ambulance bay and went inside the ed carrying the coffees while shen carried the donut boxes, “we come bearing gifts” you announced your entrance, making your way to lena first and passing her the hot coffee and the box of glazed donuts you had bought specifically for her. she thanked you, winking at you before sitting back on her chair to take a sip of her beverage
you passed around the boxes of donuts when you heard your name being called, followed by his question “want to explain why two of my doctors made a dunkin run at five-fifteen?” you froze, turning around slowly to face jack with a caught expression on your face, “sorry?” you offered with a tight smile “the best i can do is offer you a donut” he chuckled and grabbed one from the open box sitting atop the nurses’ station
ellis had gone to check on one of her patients and when she came back, she walked to the hub. you heard her voice before seeing her, “you’re back!”
“brought you your coffee and your donuts” you pointed with your head at the box with the coffee on top
she took a bite of one of the donuts and hummed satisfied, “i could kiss you right now” she muttered, mouth half full and sugar around the corners, making you chuckle
“don’t threaten me with with a good time, parker” you winked at her
“stop flirting with my girlfriend, ellis” jack bit back from his place next to you
“stay mad, unc” she mocked, then said “don’t let him hold you back from your one true love” and blew you a kiss. you laughed as jack groaned in annoyance. you leaned forwards to high-five her and laughed harder when you heard jack mumble a ‘for fuck sakes’ under his breath
you turned your face to him with a small smile and said, “don’t worry, ellis. i won’t let my boyfriend keep me from finding my wife” then turned to her, giving her a wink before bursting into laughter when jack rolled his eyes and walked out to the ambulance bay
saturday afternoon rolled around with ease and with it, santos’ groans and complaints in the bathroom as you finished mel’s braid crown. the game was being held at the hospital’s physical therapy gym, which had been turned into a makeshift pitch for the day’s game. “trin, i think you should relax. we’re gonna have fun” you said, pinning the braids to mel’s head with bobby pins, “besides this is the perfect chance to see mateo and shen lose their minds” that made her roll her eyes, though you didn’t miss the small chuckle that escaped her
“i know i won’t enjoy taking orders from robby. we do enough of that on the clock and now we gotta do that too” samira rolled her eyes and you understood where she was coming from. lately, robby had it out for her, which was really annoying and unfair because she was one of the best doctors you had ever met. you had tried to convince her to switch to nights but she had kindly let you down, saying that it would be a difficult change in her everyday routine, although you suspected she was really close to saying yes. samira, trinity, and mel had come straight from a mid-day shift, so they had to change out of their scrubs and into the hospital-issued uniform–which was a sport shorts and a basic dark blue shirt with your last names and the numbers you had chosen three weeks prior
you were finishing your own braid crown when javadi walked in, phone in hand, recording you for her vlog. samira, santos, and mel exited the stalls at the same time, saying a quick hello to victoria, who was recording you through the mirror. you finished the braids, now washing your hands before putting on some sunscreen on your face. victoria recorded a bit more; samira making a joke, you putting sunscreen on mel’s face, and trinity tying her shoes while sitting on the floor. mckay walked in a few seconds later to tell you that robby and abbot wanted to go over the game strategy one last time before you had to start playing, so you walked out after her
“okay, guys” abbot started, arms crossed against his chest “mckay will be the goalie,” you murmured a soft yes under your breath “mateo you’ll be in defense, the terror twins both as wingers,” he pointed at shen and you, and you two high-fived “and mohan, you’ll be pivot”
she groaned, “can i be on the bench?” she asked “santos should be pivot instead”
“you want in?” robby asked trinity, who just shrugged as a way of saying yes, “perfect, then. the rest of you’ll be benched and we’ll do a rotation every five minutes or so. that’s it, go warm up” he clapped his hands
“okay, losers” you started “we have this in the bag. we’ll do great, and we’ll win, again. because if we don’t, i’ll kill every single one of you” you smiled “love you, guys”
“you sure do know how to make a good motivational speech” jack mocked
“that was not a motivational speech, that was a warning” you clarified “besides, that has worked for the past three years so it better work this year, too” you finished before walking to warm up next to the rest of the team
victoria came up to each one of you to record something for her vlog. you took the phone out of her hand to record her instead and mateo took it as the perfect opportunity to throw her over his shoulder to do squats with her as the weight
after a couple of minutes, the game started. the first four minutes went without a hitch and you realized trinity was damn good at playing soccer and mckay was a damn good goalie. shen and you were on fire,–as you had always been ever since you played that first game together three years prior–passing the ball to santos. jack called you over once the five minutes had passed, saying something about letting mel play for a while so you could rest a couple of minutes. two minutes went by, and you were glad victoria was recording the game again because just then, mel scored the first goal of the match. all of you jumped, shouting excitedly at mel’s goal. “oh, man. i’m going to win so much money today” you laughed before hollering at mel
the next fifteen minutes went by smoothly. one goal soon scored by samira, who turned around to where the rest of you were sitting with a surprised but excited expression on her face; another scored by mateo, who took the opportunity to twirl victoria on his arms, and another scored by you thanks to an assist made by shen. the westbridge doctors had scored a couple of goals as well, but you weren’t too worried about that because you were way too confident ptmc was going to win
the whistle blew and you all walked to where the rest were sitting to drink some water before moving to the other side of the gym for the court change. “mckay, langdon, whitaker, mohan, and ellis are going in now” robby spoke up, “langdon and mohan will be wingers, whitaker play defense, and ellis, you’ll be pivot. any questions?”
“yes, uhm, what exactly am i supposed to do?” dennis asked and trinity laughed
“just–don’t let them get past you, okay? it’ll be fun” you said with a wink
it was absolutely hilarious seeing whitaker stand there with no clue what to do. you laughed and made some game commentary for victoria’s video, which was making the whole thing even funnier. you stood up and walked to him when you heard jack call your name, “ready to go back in?” he asked and you answered “i was born ready, baby.” he chuckled and leaned down a bit to press a kiss on your temple before pushing you in slightly as samira made her way off to sit down next to javadi. by the second time the ten minute mark rolled around, you were feeling light on your feet, coming close to scoring but failing when westbridge’s goalie frustrated your attempts. at least until now, ellis stole the ball from one of them, passing it to langdon. he moved fast to the other side of the court before passing it to ellis, who by this time was completely trapped by both a winger and the pivot. so she passed you the ball and you took it as the perfect opportunity to kick the ball as hard as you could, which made you score your first goal of the afternoon. ellis came running to you and hugged you tight before letting you go and subsequently high-five you
you were stressing out by the time there were less than five minutes left on the game, not because you guys were any close to losing the game but because you were one goal away from winning the entirety of the bet–that was obviously an exaggeration, you were about to win 250 of the 350 dollar betting pool. cassie and shen were probably splitting the rest–shen was now playing in, taking whitaker’s place. “come on, shen. ellis is open, send it ” you heard jack say and made your way down to the opposite side where ellis had received the ball. you made a signal for her to kick the ball to your direction and, at the same time you received the pass, heard robby tell you to shoot it so you did, scoring the goal. shen and ellis came running straight at you, hugging you as you let out a laugh “i won the fucking bet”
“i cannot believe you literally predicted how the game was gonna end. i need you to predict the next three years of my life” victoria said with a tipsy tone and a sweet drink in her hand. you giggled, taking a swing of your beer. you had obviously won the match and, subsequently, the cup for the fourth time in a row. you were all in the bar on the street down the hospital still donning your soccer uniforms, as well as the medals you had gotten. the cup sat on the center of the table next to the couple of empty beer bottles and empty cocktail glasses. you were sitting halfway on top of jack, who had an arm around your waist to keep you from falling on top of santos, who was sitting next to you
“honestly, i cannot believe it, either” you smiled, “i got it down to a t. but i knew we were going to win, again”
shen called your name, asking if you wanted another beer. you drank the rest of the one in your hand, nodding as an answer before asking him to bring you two beers, one for you and one for jack. you spent the evening chatting with the rest of the crew–now joined by dana, donnie, jessee, princess, and perlah, who had gone to see the quick winning ceremony right after their shift ended–and the evening went by quietly (ellis would kill you for using the q word). later on, santos proposed taking shots, to which mateo, victoria, dennis, ellis, and shen agreed, so they made their way over to the bar dragging a very reluctant samira with them. mckay and jesse were having a nice conversation while waiting by the pool table for it to clear out. robby and dana were sitting on the other side of the bar, drinks in their hands, discussing something in a very light and animated manner. princess and perlah were throwing some darts after making a bet with a ‘couple hot guys’ (princess’s words, not yours). and langdon and mel were looking at the song repertoire for the next round of karaoke
“they look cute together, right?” you said, confusing jack “mel and frank” you cocked your head towards them
“isn’t langdon married?” he asked
“he’s already divorced” you clarified, “but, whatever– just answer me”
“i guess they do, sweetheart,” he shrugged, taking a swing of his beer “how are you feeling?”
“i am so tired,” you gave him a soft smile, “but i’m also really happy. i’m 250 bucks richer, now”
he chuckled “is that so?”
“yeah, i can buy you dinner now,” you teased. “or not. i’ll keep that money for something else”
he chuckled again, “whatever you want, sweetheart” he brushed the hair out of your face “wanna go home?”
“not yet,” you shook your head “i wanna see shen and ellis doing karaoke,” you giggled before taking a sip of your beer, “and i also want to keep seeing vic and mateo dance around this weird thing they’ve got going on. i’m so glad samira took over the whole filming this for vic’s vlog” you bit a smile
‘hey guys’ victoria started the video in what you assumed was her room ‘today i’m taking you all with me and the ptmc crew to the last match of the hospitals soccer cup. we’ve been playing the cup for like four months because, for nobody’s surprise, ed shifts are unpredictable and it was hell to get everyone’s schedules aligned’ she let out a breath ‘but whatever, today’s the final and we have a lot of money on it so stay tuned to see who wins the match and the game.’ the camera cuts and the next shot is of robby and abbot, both standing ahead of vic and mateo, who had said hello to the vlog beforehand. victoria was zooming in into the shot of both attendings, who were having a quick discussion of the positions and plays for the match. next cut was victoria walking towards the bathroom, ‘i was tasked with finding out what the hell these women are doing and why are they taking so freakin’ long’
the video now showed you pinning your braids while mel, trinity, and samira were getting out of the stalls after changing out of their scrubs. ‘say hi, babes’ mel excitedly waved to the camera, samira just gave a small wave and a small smile, trinity nodded with her head, and you mumbled a small hello under your breath as you finished your hair. then, it was the five of you modeling your uniforms through the mirror with a sabrina carpenter song on the back. cassie also made the frame, telling you to hurry up because you still needed to discuss strategy
the next seconds were a sped-up clip of robby and abbot talking strategy with all of you with a funny sound on the back and you softly threatening them to win the game, everyone with concerned and mildly scared expressions. after that, it was filled with videos of each of you predicting the game’s outcome; ‘i think, and it better happen this way because i want to win the bet, that ptmc wins 6-2 in our favor.’ victoria chuckled, ‘what will you do with that cash?’ she asked ‘i’ll pick up everyone’s dunkin orders. i know shen’ll love me forever if i do that.’ you took the chance to get the phone out of victoria’s hands to record her instead, but her prediction was interrupted by mateo throwing her over his shoulder
‘if i’m honest, i’m scared of the terror twins’ samira said your name, ‘she terrifies me, shen not so much. it’s like an eighty-twenty. but yeah, she’s terrifying when she gets into competitive mode’ the game commentary went on and on, especially when goals were made. all of you jumped up when mel scored the first goal of the match and your voice could be heard in the background of all the noise as you celebrated the possibility of winning the bet. the rest of the goals were also recorded, and from different angles, thanks to some of the nurses and other doctors that were there watching the game
victoria had also recorded you all drinking water, looking exhausted after playing the first twenty minutes. she also recorded robby saying who was going to play next, whitaker’s confused expression while asking what he was supposed to do, and your amused face when telling him to just ‘don’t let them get past.’ the game commentary kept coming, making the video even funnier. you were about to say something else when you were called by jack to go in for samira. victoria had captured the exact moment jack had kissed your temple before softly pushing you in. she also added the failed attempts to score any more goals, and your grumpy expression when shen said something to you when there were less than five minutes left. ‘come on shen. ellis is open, send it’ jack’s back was in the frame before she shifted it to focus on the shen-ellis-you pass before the final goal of the match. then, it was just a lot of shouts, celebratory ones, when shen and ellis were hugging you, big grins on all your faces. ‘we fucking won, oh my god. fourth time in a row’ you were close to crying ‘this was so fun. see you again next year’
next shot was of all of you in the bar. drinks being passed around with soft conversations over the music, all of you still with the uniforms but now with medals around your necks. ‘hey, guys’ you said your name for the camera ‘we just won! and most importantly, i won 250 bucks because apparently i am a physic’ you joked before passing the phone around. next were shen and ellis. she was holding a beer while he had a party hat and a long island on his hand, ‘we are freaking amazing. fourth year in a row, baby!’ shen excitedly said and ellis laughed. next were santos, whitaker, and samira; ‘little miss mohan here scored a goal after being all scared of playin’’ trinity said with a grin on her face, making samira roll her eyes (with a smile) and dennis chuckle, ‘it was really fun. hope we get to play next year too.’ next it was mel and langdon’s turn, she just smiled and nodded while he mentioned how exciting it had been to play for the first time and win. robby was next; he very quickly smiled and said he was ‘feeling like a proud and happy dad’ before passing the phone back to victoria, who now had mateo sitting next to her. they said something unintelligible at the same time and just chuckled, without making a second attempt at speaking
the melodies of ‘like a prayer’ started to play and the camera was now focusing on ellis and shen, who were very happily singing the song as best as they could. you were sitting sideways on jack’s lap, his arm around your waist to keep you from falling backwards. you turned to him, singing him the song while using the beer bottle as your microphone. jack only laughed, encouraging you to keep singing
it was a lot later, you could tell. you were all dispersed around the bar. the camera now recording from the bar, where dennis, mateo, victoria, trinity, and samira were standing waiting for their shots. instead of victoria, it was samira now the one recording, she panned the camera around the bar; showing mckay and jesse as they were having a nice conversation while waiting by the pool table for it to clear out. next she showed robby and dana sitting on the other side of the bar, drinks in their hands, discussing something in a very light and animated manner and, by the looks of it, you assumed robby was telling her everything that happened during the game. next were princess and perlah, who were throwing some darts with a couple of guys. then langdon and mel looking at the song repertoire for the next round of karaoke. at last she showed you and jack, still sitting as you had been before. she zoomed in and captured–as best as she could, considering the lighting (or better, the lack of)–jack looking up at you like you hung the stars in the sky even though your hair was messy after being let down from the braids, having a tired expression on your face and talking nonsense that the mic couldn’t catch from where she was standing
the camera cut to victoria, mateo, santos, dennis, and samira outside the bar waiting for their ubers, victoria tiredly saying ‘thanks for sticking with us today. love you, guys’ before ending the vlog
you didn’t miss the comments down the video,
| where exactly is this er and what do i have to do to get dr hotties to treat me
| damn those two docs at the end surely are the picture perfect of love
| i want to be their friend so bad
| that like a prayer karaoke shot was PERFECT i wanna sing karaoke w them
| i want that girl who basically threatened everyone into winning to talk to me like that
| the docs and the nurses over there sure are fine as hell
| those coaches can coach me whenever they want
| i want someone who looks at me like dr hottie looks at the other dr hottie
so you took the chance to add your own comment;
| i’m so glad life brought us together. there really isn’t anyone else i would love to spend my time with. i love you guys, y’all are my family <3
Doppel-banger: a double of a living person who you wouldn't hesitate to tap
summary: five times you think you stumbled upon jack abbot vs. the one time it's actually him
tags: shawn hatosy universe, brett richards, sammy bryant, andrew "pope" cody, terry mccandless, titus dandforth, jack abbot, terry is lowkey creepy, titus mentions sacrificing somone, brett sammy and pope are all nice, canon pope staring, second hand embarrassment, younger fem!reader but age is not specified
notes: okay, so I had this idea of making a full oneshot about a reader mistaking pope for a concussed jack for an entire day, but the I thought it'd be really funny to make a collection of all the major shawn characters. i haven't seen any of the tv shows, but i read so much fan fiction, I am sorry if some of them are ooc, if you'd like to join my permanent taglist please comment on this post ! enjoy!
word count: 9.6k
By the time you finally escaped into the ambulance bay, the Pitt had descended into the fog that made everyone vaguely mean and snappy to each other.
A car had decided to plow through the front of a convenience store three blocks away just before noon, which somehow evolved into a gas leak, a grease fire from the kitchen next door, multiple smoke inhalations, and one man who’d managed to impale his own hand on a display rack while trying to “help.” The Pitt had been drowning ever since with no floaties in sight. Stretchers lined the hallways, Robby was barking orders over the chaos, and a med student was getting publicly destroyed for contaminating a sterile field.
Your entire body ached with exhaustion, and it wasn’t even 2:30 yet. Your scrub top clung uncomfortably to your back, your ponytail was halfway falling out, and the iced coffee you’d brought six hours ago had long since melted into a watery disappointment sitting untouched at the nurses’ station under Dana’s watchful eye.
You only stepped outside because you needed thirty seconds where nobody was actively bleeding near you.
The bay smelled faintly like smoke and gasoline, engines rumbling low beneath the distant screams of sirens out in the city. Paramedics moved around in practiced patterns, unloading equipment while firefighters lingered near one of the firetrucks parked crookedly next to an ambulance. You barely paid attention at first, too busy rubbing at the ache gathering behind your eyes.
You had started to walk back toward the Pitt but stopped entirely when you saw him; well—the back of him anyway with his broad shoulders and dark, soaked curls resting against his nape. Even if you couldn’t see his face, he somehow was able to stand out in a crowd even surrounded by firefighters in full turnout gear. One hand braced against the side of the engine while he spoke to someone beside him, his jacket stretched over his shoulders.
No matter what, you’d always be able to spot Jack Abbot in a crowd.
Your eyes dragged slowly over his newfound bright yellow firefighting gear, the reflective stripes glinting. The heavy boots and radio clipped to his chest had you pausing and staring for a solid three seconds, mind trying to process how exactly the man had apparently gone from night shift attending and SWAT medic to volunteer firefighter without mentioning it to anyone.
But more importantly, mentioning it to you.
Actually, when you thought about it, knowing Jack, the change tracked perfectly. The man already had a self-sacrificial streak a mile wide. Of course he’d look at one incredibly dangerous side quest and think You know what would make my life even better? Fire.
A deeply offended laugh escaped your lips, and without thinking too hard about it, you started moving toward him.
“Seriously, Abbot?” you called out over the noise of the bay. “You take one shift off and suddenly you’re fighting convivence store fires now?”
The man beside him glanced over first, obviously confused, but Jack turned more slowly, still halfway shrugging out of his jacket as you continued your approach.
“No, because SWAT clearly wasn’t stressful enough for you,” you continued, tired enough that the words just kept coming. “You looked at armed standoffs and thought, wow, my life is missing a little spontaneous combustion.”
By the time you reached them, the stranger standing beside him was openly staring at you in amusement. Meanwhile, Jack had gone very still.
That should have been your first warning.
But against all self-preservation, you planted your hands on your hips and kept going. “Do you know how insane it is that this is how I’m finding out? I had to see you standing next to a fire engine like some kind of hot, emotionally unstable calendar shoot—”
Jack finally turned fully toward you, and your brain stopped functioning completely.
Because the man in front of you was not Jack Abbot.
In your defense, he was close enough to knock the air from your lungs for a second. He had the same dark, hazel eyes, the same rough kind of handsomeness that looked better the more exhausted and grimed up they got. They even had the same intimidating build that made people move out of their way without a second glance.
But somehow, this man looked older that Jack, more self-assured in a way that only grew as he looked deeply entertained by your humiliation already unfolding in real time. The silence stretched until the firefighter next to him snorted loudly into his fist.
Your stomach dropped straight through the floor.
“I’m flattered you think I’m hot.” The not-Jack’s mouth twitched slightly. “But is it a bad time to mention my name’s not Jack?”
Heat flooded your face so fast it physically hurt. “No,” you breathed, horrified out of your mind. “No, no, no.”
Now the firefighter beside him was fully laughing, turning away entirely as though witnessing your embarrassment firsthand had become too much for him to handle.
You covered your face with both hands. “I need someone to hit me with an ambulance immediately.”
“That feels awfully dramatic,” the man said.
Your eyes found him through the slats of your fingers. “You have my attending’s face.”
“I’m starting to gather that.”
“You even stand like him,” you accused, voice muffled by your palms. “Which is apparently enough for me to lose all critical thinking skills.”
He laughed softly, low and rough enough to make the situation somehow worse. “Well,” he said, “in fairness, you seemed pretty confident.”
You lowered your hands just enough to glare at him. “Because I really thought my friend had secretly joined the fire department.”
The stranger folded his arms across his chest, turnout jacket hanging loosely from one hand while he studied you with open amusement. “So this Jack guy—he always gets yelled at like this by you?”
“Only when he does something stupid.”
“I’m starting to think I should meet him.”
You shook your head, hands finally dropping back to your sides. “You abso-fucking-lutely should not. I think seeing both of you in the same room might kill me instantly.”
He grinned wildly, quick but devastatingly effective enough it sent tingles up your spine.
Great. Fantastic. Love that for you. One Jack Abbot was hard enough to not stare at as is; having them both in the same room would actually cause a spontaneous combustion of your body.
You sighed heavily, dragging a hand down your face. “Okay. Wonderful. I’m gonna go crawl into oncoming traffic now if you don’t mind.”
Before you could make your great escape, he stuck out his hand toward you. “Captain Brett Richards.”
You looked at it suspiciously for a second before taking it. His grip was warm, firm, and rough with callouses in all the right places. You gave over your name reluctantly, still unable to fully look him in the face without feeling embarrassed all over again.
Unfortunately for you, he spoke again, timber all deep and ragged. “For the record, I was gonna let you keep going.”
Your eyes snapped to his hazel ones. “What?”
“I wanted to see how long it took you before you noticed.”
“You are a bad person, Brett Richards.”
“I’m a curious person. There’s a difference.”
“You stood there and listened to me accuse you of having a hero complex.”
“Seemed important to you.”
“I’ve been publicly humiliated!”
“Just humiliated between me and my friend. I don’t think that counts as the public.”
You pointed at him accusingly. “You’re creepy.”
“What?”
“The tone you’re doing right now.”
Brett blinked. “What tone?”
“The exact same tone he uses when he thinks I’m being ridiculous.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“You sound exactly like him too.”
Now he looked offended. “I do not.”
“You absolutely do. You’re even doing the whole arms cross and puffing out your chest while simultaneously stretching your neck to look taller.”
The other firefighter chimed in. “Honestly, Brett? She’s kinda right.”
Brett looked over, absolute betrayal on his face. “Whose side are you on?”
“Definitely not yours.”
You laughed loudly, fatigue finally cracking enough to let something lighter through. At the same moment, your phone buzzed in your scrub pocket. You pulled it out, eyes widening at the incoming message.
Jack:
Running late. Scene turned into a disaster. Save me a trauma room before some other resident does something stupid.
“I bet you two text the same,” you grumbled, shoving your phone back into your pocket before looking back up at him.
He laughed outright at that, shoulders shaking slightly. “Sounds like you know this man intimately. Do you possibly have a type? Or do you grumble at every silver fox in your area.”
You glared at him as best you could. “I don’t have a type. Do not make this my problem.”
“Feels like your problem already.”
“Oh, we absolutely aren’t doing this today.” Still, a smile grew on your face before you started backing toward the ambulance bay doors again. “I’m leaving before this gets more psychologically damaging.”
Brett called after you easily, “Tell Jack Abbot I’m apparently his hotter firefighter version!”
You stepped dead in your tracks and slowly turned around. “. . .You know what?” you said thoughtfully. “I actually think saying that out loud near him might start a physical fight.”
Brett’s grin widened. “Now I definitely want to meet him.”
_______________________
The worst shifts always seem to end quietly and not anywhere close to peaceful. The Pitt, you liked to think, was incapable of achieving peace. Even now, close to midnight (almost five hours after your shift “officially ended”), you left behind blaring monitors, patients in needed of doctors, and exhausted coworkers who had just started to trade sarcastic insults at the station just to stay awake. But compared to the disaster the evening had started, the hospital had tasted almost manageable to where you believed they had everything handled.
Your feet dragged as you stepped out through the ambulance bay doors, the night air cool against the lingering heat trapped beneath your scrub jacket. The city smelled faintly damp from rain earlier in the evening, asphalt still dark under the lights.
You leaned against the brick wall beside the entrance for a second, closing your eyes briefly.
Today had been brutal in the particular way only emergency medicine could manage. There had been too many patients, too many families crying in the halls, too many moments where things almost went wrong before somebody caught it at the last second. You’d spent more than twelve hours keeping yourself stitched together with caffeine and momentum, and now that things finally slowed down enough, your brain had apparently decided to stop all regular functions, effective immediately.
Which was probably why, when you spotted a familiar figure standing near one of the patrol cars parked on the other side of the street, the pieces fell into place, your brain beaming Oh, Jack just left too?
Jack stood with his back partially toward you, shoulders slumped slightly beneath a dark jacket while one hand rested against the roof of the cruiser. His head tilted down toward the coffee in his hand, dark curls shadowed in the lack of street lights.
You didn’t even think before walking toward the warm, familiar build that held the same tired posture Jack adopted after a nasty shift, almost preparing his body to show up the next day anyway.
“Please tell me,” you called out tiredly, “that your shift was somehow worse than mine so I can feel better about my life choices.”
Jack glanced over at the sound of your voice, but you kept talking before fully seeing his face.
“Because if I have to hear one more over pompous med student stay the words ‘technically speaking,’ I’m actually going to commit a felony.”
A low huff of amusement answered you. “Long night?”
“Long life is more like it,” you corrected, finally stepping slow enough to see him properly.
You froze when he fully turned, because the universe apparently had a personal vendetta against you for probably your past life’s sins. Because once again, the man standing in front of you was not Jack Abbot. Yes, he was close enough to make your stomach drop for a second. His eyes glinted with the same sadness Jack’s did. He even had the same rough exhaustion written lines around his mouth. However, this man looked like someone who absorbed the weight of things instead of fighting against them.
Also, now that he was turned to you, his officer badge and uniform stuck out like a sore thumb.
And unlike Brett earlier in the week, this stranger didn’t look quite as amused by your mistake. He just looked tired.
You stopped short of the cruiser, horror crawling slowly up your spine. “Oh.”
He blinked once before taking a slow sip of coffee. “Bad start to the conversation?”
“Fuck me; I did it again,” you muttered to yourself.
“Again?”
You covered your face briefly with one hand, humiliation already blatant on your face. “There’s apparently two other guys walking around Pittsburgh with your exact face.”
“Well, that sound concerning.”
“I’m very concerned for my mental status.”
The corner of his mouth twitched, subtle enough you almost missed it.
You let out a defeated sigh, face turned toward the sky, before gesturing vaguely toward him. “You are not Jack Abbot.”
“Nope.”
“Perfect.”
“You wanna try my name instead?” There wasn’t even a hint of annoyance in his voice. If anything, he sounded mildly curious about the situation unfolding in front of him.
You laughed weakly, hands lightly tapping your thighs. “Honestly, I think I should just stop talking to strangers forever.”
“You always this extreme when mistaking people for another?”
“Only when I keep finding multiple emotionally exhausted men who all look exactly like my attending.”
That earned you a slightly more noticeable smile as he pushed away from the patrol car, holding out one hand toward you. “Sammy Bryant.”
You shook it, still staring at him in disbelief. “I’m sorry, Officer Bryant, but this is all still genuinely ridiculous to me.”
Sammy glanced down at your hospital badge as you gave him your name. “You work inside?”
“Unfortunately.”
“Late shift?”
You shook your head. “You could say that. I started at seven this morning.”
His eyebrows lifted. “And you’re still standing?”
“Barely.” You looked down at your body. “I think my soul high tailed it out of there around hour nine and never came back.”
A soft laugh escaped him, quieter than Brett’s hand been, but still holding the same warmth that made you feel comfortable.
You mentally made a decision before leaning back against his patrol car beside him, rubbing at your eyes with one hand. For a moment, neither of you spoke and just listened to the faint noises of the night.
Sammy took another sip of coffee before nodding toward the hospital. “Was it busy today?”
A long, shuddering breath whistled through your lips. “One trauma after another. Half the city apparently decided today was a great day to make terrible healthcare decisions.”
“Sounds about right.”
“And one student almost gave a patient the wrong dosage because he was trying to impress our boss.”
“We caught it before it happened, but still.” Your hair moved slowly across your forehead as you shook your head tiredly. “At some point though you just start wondering if everyone should stop touching things altogether or find some patience before they kill someone.”
He hummed softly in agreement, hazel eyes drifting toward the street. “You probably already know, but that feeling really doesn’t ever go away.”
You glanced over at him, taking in his face properly. Like your Jack, Sammy seemed to carry the same heaviness about him, like emergency services hadn’t been kind to either of them.
“How long have you been on the force?” you asked quietly, taking his uniform details in as your eyes roamed.
“Twelve years.”
“Explains your expression.”
At least he didn’t sound offended when he asked, “What expression?”
“The one that says humanity was a big mistake.”
He chuckled lowly. “Yeah,” he admitted. “You nailed that one perfectly.”
A faint smile hooked onto your lips before your head tipped back against the cruiser window behind you. “Jack has that look too.”
Sammy looked over. “The guy I apparently share a face with?”
“Yep.” You looked down at your hands, fingers picking at the skin around your nails. “Him and this firefighter named Richards.”
“What does Jack do?”
“He’s the night shift attending, and he volunteers as a SWAT medic during his free days.”
Sammy nodded along, understanding settling across his face as he listened. “That tracks.”
“You say that like you know him.”
“Don’t need to.” He shrugged. “You can tell what kind of person someone is by the jobs they stay in too long.”
For a second, you watched him quietly beneath the moonlight, struck again by how strange this whole thing felt. It wasn’t because he looked like Jack—though that continued to be deeply unsettling—but because talking to him felt easy in the same dangerous way talking to Jack always did; honesty dripping from their mouths the more tired they got.
Similarly, Sammy studied you for a moment before speaking again. “Are you okay?”
His question caught you off guard. Again, that genuine earnestness they both seemed to have bled through even if Sammy had only met you moments ago.
Your eyes traveled back down to your hands for a second before a half laugh bubbled softly under your breath. “You ever have one of those days where you think maybe everyone should stop needing things from you for like . . . twenty-four hours?”
“Yeah,” Sammy answered. “More than once. My ex-wife used to call me all the time, and I just begged for break.”
It was now your turn to wince. “Logically, I know it’s a terrible mindset to have as someone working in healthcare, but after the fifth screaming family member and the third guy trying to leave with an IV still in his arm, I’m starting to reconsider my commitment to helping people.”
“You’re tired,” he said simply.
“I think cranky is a better term for what I’m feeling right now.”
“You’re human.”
You glanced back up at him. “You know, you’re both annoyingly and suspiciously good at this whole peptalk thing.”
“Me and Jack?”
“Yeah. You have this calm voice thing. It’s irritating.”
Sammy smirked into his coffee cup. “Maybe you just trust guys who look too tired for life.”
“Maybe I need therapy.”
“That too.”
You laughed a bit harder at that than the joke deserved, but exhaustion always made you a bit slaphappy. Once the sound subsided, the two of you fell back into a comfortable silence. Sammy stayed leaned beside the cruiser, quiet in a way that didn’t feel awkward, and you realized that the comfortableness was probably the strangest part of the whole ordeal.
As a senior resident, most people demanded every ounce of energy from you. Conversation. Reassurance. Attention. They picked it all apart until a hollow shell of yourself went home to recharge for another day. But standing here with him felt easy in the same way standing beside Jack did after a nightmare shift. There wasn’t pressure to perform, zero expectation to be cheerful, just silent understanding between two people trying to survive difficult jobs.
Sammy finally glanced toward you again. “Whoever this Jack guy is,” he said casually, “he must be worth confusing strangers over.”
“That’s still up for debate.”
“But you still like him.”
You opened your mouth to argue before realizing you had no real defense against that, and Sammy absolutely noticed. A knowing sort of amusement flashed briefly across his face before he looked back out toward the street and the Pitt again, giving you an out without pressing further.
You sighed dramatically. “Unfortunately I do. He’s annoyingly competent.”
“Dangerous trait to have.”
And he does this thing where he acts like indifferent while actively solving all the problems.”
“Real terrible guy.”
You rolled your eyes fondly. “He’s just the worst.”
Sammy laughed quietly, and you smiled before finally pushing away from the cruiser.
“I should probably head to my car before somebody sees I’m still here and decides they need me to pull a double.”
His eyebrows rose. “Probably.”
“It was nice to meet you, Sammy.”
“Likewise.”
As you started in the direction of the parking lot, Sammy lifted his coffee slightly in farewell.
“And hey,” he called out after a few steps.
You paused and turned back toward him with a raised eyebrow.
“If you run into another one of us,” he said dryly, “maybe lead with the name first!”
Your laugh echoed across the bay as you flipped him the bird to which his boisterous laughter also joined in with yours all the way to the parking lot.
_______________________
By the fifth twelve-hour shift in a row, the Pitt stopped feeling real.
Time blurred through patient rooms. Daylight disappeared without warning. Meals became whatever you could hork down before another trauma alarm went off. Entire conversations slipped from your memory the second someone started coding. By three in the afternoon, the Pitt finally settled into a lapping wave instead of a tsunami, something easier to wade through instead of drown in.
You’d be done in four hours.
That’s all you could think as you found yourself wandering the full surprisingly empty area near radiology with a vending machine coffee clenched in one hand and your pager clipped crookedly to your scrub pants after catching another consult.
The coffee tasted burnt enough to qualify as chemical warfare.
You drank it down anyway.
Your shoulders ached as you rounded the corner toward the quieter hallway leading to imagine, gravity pulled extra heavily at your limbs. Most of the overhead lights had dimmed this far from the trauma bays, leaving the corridor washed in soft blue-gray shadows only broken by the occasional flicker of a light lucky enough to have had its bulbs changed recently.
That was when you spotted Jack sitting alone against the wall near the windows.
Your steps slowed automatically.
Even half-curled into one of the uncomfortable chairs that had been brought in from check-in, you found the familiar dark curls along his forehead and broad shoulders hunched beneath a black sweatshirt. His long legs stretched out in front of him while his hands rested loosely clasped together between his knees.
Your mind should have caught up by now that there was a 95 percent chance that the Jack in front of you was not actually Jack. The past two times, the odds had been against you. Even as you approached, you honestly weren’t sure if he actually was Jack.
But his Jack-Abbot shape and Jack-Abbot demeanor mixed with your weighted exhaustion overrode every caution light fast enough you continued to walk steadily towards him.
“You know handoff’s not for another four hours, right?” you asked tiredly. “Or are you here early again to save the day?”
Jack’s neck twisted as he looked up at you, and for one brief second, your brain short-circuited again.
Three and oh.
You found yourself truly wondering if you had the most absurd luck in finding the men who shared unsettling similarities (hazel eyes, rugged kind of handsomeness, a stillness that carried respect that could command a room) or if you were just unfortunately a Jack-Abbot-doppelganger magnet.
In this instance, you wished for neither because this one looked sad.
Where Jack’s exhaustion usually kept him sharp and tightly wound, this stranger looked just as weighed down as you felt. His expression stayed completely unreadable as he stared at you, hazel eyes fixed so intently on your face that you had stopped walking altogether.
You paused in front of him. “Oh no,” you whispered. “I did it again.”
The man continued staring at you silently, and you stared back. After a beat, he slowly tilted his head just slightly to one side in a movement so subtle it almost felt animal-like. Your stomach dropped.
“I’m going to take a wild guess and say you’re name isn’t Jack.”
Still, he said nothing; such a stark difference from Brett’s flirty amusement and Sammy’s conversational abilities. He just watched you.
You laughed weakly into the silence. “Okay, statistically this is getting insane.”
He blinked once before his gaze dropped briefly to the coffee in your hand before lifting back to your face. “Is that good?”
His voice was the thing to catch you off guard. Where Jack could bark orders quicker than he could blink, this man spoke slowly, careful with his words like he though each one over before letting it leave his mouth.
A startled exhale flew from your mouth. “No. But, I think I’m legally dead at this point, so what I put in my body really doesn’t matter.”
Another long pause settled in the space between you, and he didn’t seem bothered at all by it. If anything, he seemed pretty comfortable inside it unlike everyone else you knew (including yourself).
You shifted your weight awkwardly. “Sorry. Again. I thought you were someone else.”
He methodically nodded once, already having figured that part out. “The same someone else?”
“Damn, there’s enough resemblance now that people are starting to notice patterns.” You glanced toward an empty chair beside him before looking into his eyes with uncertainty. “Can I sit, or will I disturb the quiet zen you have going on back here?”
Another pause.
“You can sit.”
You lowered yourself carefully into the chair beside him, fatigue instantly sinking deeper into your bones the second you stopped moving. The burnt-gas-tasting coffee warmed your palms while the quiet hallway stretched around you, distant hospital noises muffled enough to sound almost unreal this far away from the Pitt.
Beside you, the stranger sat perfectly still like he was scared to breach an invisible wall of containment. After a few moments, you began to noticed the differences between him and Jack. He avoided looking directly at the lights. His fingers slowly rubbed against each other every few seconds like he needed the repetitive motion to stay grounded. He kept a careful distance between himself and you.
“Are you waiting on somebody?” you asked gently.
His eyes shifted toward you, intense enough that it almost felt like physical pressure.
“My brother,” he answered after a second. “He got hurt.”
Concern softened through your exhaustion. “Is he okay?”
He gave another small shrug. “He’s alive.”
His words may have been flat, but you could sense the ache badly enough that you heard it anyway.
You nodded. “That’s usually a good start around here. Can’t do much on a dead guy.”
A small almost-smile curled his lip.
You took a small sip of your coffee and grimaced before the liquid even reached your throat. “Holy fuck that’s terrible.”
His eyes looked down at the cup.
“How can anyone call this coffee when it tastes like somebody filtered dirty water through cigarette ash,” you informed him.
He stared at you for a half second longer than most people would have before asking unexpectedly, “Why are you still drinking it?”
You giggled softly. “Because I still have a few patients to get through before handoffs.”
“Oh.”
“Yeah. I feel the same way.”
A silence settled again, soft and comfortable where you found yourself glancing sideways at him occasionally while you sat there. Up close, the resemblance to Jack somehow became even more unfair. However, you guessed this is how Jack looked around 10 years ago with brownish-red hair and fewer wrinkles. But yet, the same feeling that both men carried too much responsibility around like extra weight strapped to their shoulders pulled at your heartstrings.
Also, where Jack’s emotions tended to sit close to the surface—irritation, protectiveness, frustration—this man kept everything buried so deeply you almost wondered if he realized that his expressions gave him away at all. Because despite how blank his face stayed while he either stared at the floor or stared at you, his eyes were devastatingly easy to read.
Lonely, your brain supplied.
You tore your eyes away. “So,” you said quietly after a while, “do you have a name, or should I keep mentally referring to you as Not Jack the Third?”
He pursed his lips. “Andrew.”
No nickname.
Not even a last name.
Just Andrew.
You smiled faintly. “Well, Andrew, for what it’s worth, you’re significantly less judgmental about mistaken identity than the last two.”
“The last two?”
“Long story.”
He nodded once like that answer satisfied him completely. Another few minutes passed quietly before your pager suddenly buzzed against your hip hard enough to make you jump. Andrew’s eyes tracked the movement carefully.
“Do you need to go help people?”
“Yep. Part of the job’s charm.”
“You’re tired.”
“There’s no rest for the wicked.” Your head tilted. “Or me for that matter.”
He looked at you again with that same strange, steady focus. “You should sleep more.”
“You sound like Jack.”
Andrew tilted his head slightly. “Is that good?”
“Yeah,” you answered softly. “It’s very good.”
His gaze lingered on your face for another long moment before he finally looked away first. You stood slowly from the chair, adjusting your pager against your waistband.
“I should go save the hospital from itself,” you muttered sarcastically.
Andrew nodded once. Then, just before you turned away completely, his voice stopped you again. “You looked happier when you talked about him . . . your Jack.”
You blinked before slowly looking back at him. Andrew sat exactly where you’d left him, hands loosely clasped together, sad eyes fixed on you under the dim hallway lights. He wasn’t flirting or trying to charm you; he was just stating something he’d noticed. His honesty hit harder than it probably should have.
You smiled warmly back at him. “Have a good rest of your day, Andrew.”
His gaze followed you all the way down the hallway until you disappeared around the corner and back into the Pitt.
_______________________
By now, you should have known better.
Key words: should have.
Three separate incidents should have been enough to teach your brain not to immediately trust broad shoulders and tired hazel eyes in low lighting, and yet apparently your never-ending exhaustion had burned away whatever survival instincts you normally possessed. At this point, the universe seemed committed to producing endless variations of the same emotionally damaged man just to see how many times you’d embarrassed yourself before learning.
Unfortunately, tonight really wasn’t helping your judgment.
Rain hammered steadily against your windshield as you pulled into the near-empty parking garage attached to the hospital, the concrete levels echoing faintly with the sound of tires and distant thunder. Your night shift was supposed to start soon, give or take an hour, but a last-minute emergency surgery had called you in early just in case Jack was held up or if the rain got too much for you to drive safely in.
All you wanted was to get inside, get your Dunkin from Shen, and live through this shift so that your following two days off were nothing but pure paradise.
Instead, you killed the engine and sat there for a second staring blankly through the rain-streaked windshield while tiredness settled heavy behind your eyes.
The parking garage was mostly empty this late at night. Lights buzzed overhead, washing the concrete levels in pale gray while rainwater dripped steadily from the ceiling near the ramps. Somewhere farther down the row, a radio played faintly form another parked car.
You grabbed your bag from the passenger seat with a tired sigh before climbing out into the cold damp air. The moment you were at full height, you spotted Jack leaning against one of the concrete support pillars a few rows over. You froze, hand still gripping your car door.
At this point, his face shouldn’t have been as shocking as it was, your stomach dropping every single time you got to lay eyes on him and his salt-and-pepper curls and sexy build partially hidden under a dark jacket while one hand rested causally in his pocket.
The faintest hint of This is probably another horrifyingly convincing copy of him. And honestly, who even knew anymore.
Jack glanced up at you as you started to walk; your footsteps echoed slightly. His face was partially shadowed by the buzzing lights. And before your brain could fully catch up, your own mouth betrayed you first.
Et tu, Brute?
“If you turn out to be another stranger, I’m actually gonna lose my mind.”
Jack’s eyebrows lifted slightly before the corner of his mouth curled into something that looked far too pleased.
“Well now,” he drawled, voice salted with a southern accent that instantly threw you off balance, “that ain’t usually how good-looking women start conversations with me.”
You stopped short, because absolutely nothing about that voice sounded like Jack or confident Brett or sweet Sammy or quiet Andrew. This one was different with something slick underneath his drawl like he found the entire interaction entertaining before it had even properly started.
“Oh no,” you muttered under your breath, arms wrapping around your middle to somehow protect you from his eyes.
The now stranger pushed off the pillar slowly, watching you with open amusement as he stepped fully into the lights. And unfortunately, the resemblance to Jack got worse the closer he got. Same face shape? Check. Same hazel eyes? Check (but his sent the wrong kind of chill up your spine).
However, unlike the others, this man looked at you like he already knew exactly how attractive he was, and that automatically made him the worst one to be around.
You narrowed your eyes suspiciously. “Gotta take a wild guess and say your name isn’t Jack Abbot.”
A wild grin slowly spread across his face. “No, ma’am but sounds like I oughta thank him for the introduction.”
You actually groaned aloud. “I cannot keep doing this.”
“Doin’ what?”
“Finding men who all have the same face.”
“That so?”
“Yes, and frankly it’s getting psychologically damaging.”
The stranger laughed softly, low and self-satisfied enough to make your skin prickle slightly. The same quiet internal warning that told you when patients were about to become aggressive before security even notices was sending a tingle up your arms.
You shifted your bag higher on your shoulder. “Okay. Great. Nice meeting you, mysterious parking garage man, but I’m gonna go before this gets more embarrassing for me.”
“Funny,” he said casually, “seems like you started this conversation pretty confident.”
You paused. “That was before you spoke.”
His grin widened somehow. “Little disappointed?”
“Concerned, actually. Very concerned.”
He laughed again, stepping away from the pillar entirely. “Damn, darlin’. You always this mean to strangers?”
The nickname landed wrong in your chest. Just the way he said it felt off. It wasn’t flirty, it was possessive, almost like he’d skipped straight past normal conversation and decided familiarity for himself. It all felt wrong; he felt wrong. Caution slowly sharpened under your exhaustion.
Still, you forced a polite smile. “Only the ones lurking dramatically in a hospital parking garage.”
He pouted, bottom lip jutted out dramatically. “You hurt my feelings a little.”
“You’ll survive.”
“Oh, I think I will.” His hazel eyes trailed up and down your body while he spoke.
Your stomach tightened faintly. This man felt dangerous in a way that had nothing to do with physical violence and everything to do with manipulation. Every work out of his mouth seemed like he’d already calculated it before he said it. The others had felt human and even awkward at times, but they had been grounded below it all.
This one, you understood a bit too late, was that he’d realized you were uncomfortable almost immediately and was enjoying watching you squirm under eyes that normally made you feel safe.
He tilted his head slightly, eyes moving over your face with unsettling ease. “So this Jack guy,” he said conversationally, “boyfriend?”
You sneered. “That’s none of your business.”
“Mhm.”
“Do you ask invasive questions to every woman you meet in parking garages?”
“Only the pretty little ones.”
You physically recoiled a little. “Ew.”
Somehow that only amused him more. “Do you always look this suspicious, or am I special?”
“You’re definitely something.”
Another slow grin spread across his face, but his eyes stayed sharp and watchful. You took a small step backward instinctively, and his gaze dropped to the movement. The awful feeling that he noticed everything tightened your chest.
“You got a name?” he asked.
Normally, under any other circumstance, you would’ve answered immediately. But something stopped you this time. The hesitation must have shown on your face because sick amusement flashed across his face and morphed into a look of interest.
“Smart girl,” he murmured.
Your spine stiffened.
The man straightened slightly before offering you a lazy, sleazy half-smile. “Terry. Terry McCandless.”
You nodded once carefully. “Okay . . . Terry. I’m gonna leave now.”
“Before tellin’ me yours?”
“Yes.”
His eyebrows lifted slightly at your blunt answer before he laughed under his breath, shaking his head like you’d surprised him. “Well,” he drawled, “now I’m definitely curious.”
You started backing slowly toward the Pitt, grip tightening around your bag’s strap. Terry noticed that too. For one long second, neither of you spoke. Rain echoed heavily through the garage, the entire level suddenly feeling far too empty. Terry tilted his head slightly again, studying you with blatant interest.
“You know,” he said casually, “most women would’ve already left.”
You forced a smile that didn’t quite reach your eyes. “Most women probably have better instincts than I do.”
“Mm.” His gaze lingered on you another second too long, so unlike how Andrew had watched you with a quiet curiosity. Here, Terry looked at you like he was hungry. “I don’t think that’s true.”
Suddenly, you understood with startling clarity exactly how dangerous his personality could become with the wrong person.
You took another step backward. “Goodnight, Terry.”
He smiled again, easy and handsome and entirely untrustworthy. “Night, darlin’.”
You didn’t breathe properly again until you got through the doors leading to the Pitt. And even then, as you walked down the hall and took a glance back toward the concrete pillar where he’d been standing, Terry was watching you the whole time.
_______________________
You hated when Robby voluntold you to attend hospital fundraising events.
The Pitt survived on donations almost as much as caffeine and trauma surgeons with superiority complexes. New equipment, expanded programs, research grants: all of it depended on wealthy people occasionally deciding to feel generous for tax purposes. However, that didn’t mean you wanted to spend your Friday night pretending to enjoy lukewarm champagne while hospital executives paraded donors around like show dogs ranked somewhere below “paperwork” and slightly above “food poisoning” on your list of favorite activities.
The ballroom glittered obnoxiously around you, gold light reflecting off crystal chandeliers while a string quartet played softly near the stage. Doctors mingled through clusters of wealthy sponsors in expensive dresses and tailored tuxedos, all perfectly polished smiles and practiced networking.
Meanwhile, you stood near the bar in horrifically high heel that you knew were actively trying to murder your feet and wondered if you could fake your own death before dessert was served.
“You look positively thrilled to be here,” a familiar, deep voice sounded behind you, causing you to sigh in desperate relief.
Without even turning around, you lifted your champagne flute toward him. “Jack, I swear if you’re actually not you and just another man with your face, I’m walking directly off the roof of this hotel.”
“Well now I’m interested.”
Your stomached dropped as you turned around slowly.
At this point, it honestly felt biblical like a divine comedy staring you as the leading role.
The resemblance hit just as hard as the others had: same hazel eyes, same shoulder width, same cutting-edge jawline, same good looks that apparently existed in endless horrifying variations across Pittsburgh. But where Brett had been charming and Sammy had been grounding and Andrew had carried that quiet sadness around him like a shadow and Terry had been intensely creepy, this man looked completely insane.
Sure, he exuded a I’m probably the wealthiest mother fucker in this room attitude. His black tuxedo was tailored perfectly across his shoulders, curls styled to perfection away from his face, large ring-adorned hands holding a crystal whiskey glass. He was rich, polished, and handsome enough that half the women in the ballroom had probably already given him bedroom eyes twice.
But there was something deeply unwell behind the hazel glint.
He smiled slowly. “How many of us are there?”
You stared at him in exhausted belief. “Enough that I’m considering neurological testing.”
“How funny it is that you’ve met them all.”
“I wouldn’t say funny. One of your little clones in a parking garage looked like he might actually kill me to swing a jury.”
Instead of reacting like a normal human being—wincing or flashing sympathy—the man had the audacity to laugh a rich, warm, delighted sound that absolutely did not match the deeply unsettling energy radiating off of him.
“Oh, I already like you,” he announced.
You took a cautious sip of champagne. “Somehow that made me less comfortable instead of more.”
“I get that a lot.”
You hummed. “Yes, I’m sure you do.”
He stepped closer easily, like your personal space was more of a suggestion than a rule. “And what exactly did this Jackdo to earn so such a reaction?”
“His face apparently exists just to humiliate me in public.”
“Do you seek his face out often?”
“Seems like it’s seeking me out more.”
“Ah. One of those situations.”
Your eyes narrowed questionably. “You say that like you know what I mean.”
“I know what obsession looks like, little dove.” Before you could respond, he extended his whiskey glass slightly toward you in a mock toast. “Titus Danforth.”
Oh.
Oh no.
For the first time, you actually recognized the same; not personally, obviously, but the Danforth family practically owned half the city at this point. Generational wealth that seems sketchy with endless political influence and charities where people pretended billionaires cared about humanity because they funded pediatric wings occasionally.
You straightened your shoulders and mused over his name in your mouth. “You’re that Danforth.”
His grin widened. “Now, don’t sound too accusatory, or I might think you have a deep resentment towards me already.”
“Who’s to say I haven’t always had a deep resentment.”
“Good.” He took another sip from his glass without breaking eye contact. “Most people here are too scared to insult me directly.”
“And that doesn’t concern you?”
“It mostly entertains me.”
You glanced toward the ballroom crowd again, briefly trying to find Robby and considering escape routes. However, Titus seemed to carry Terry’s unnaturally uncanny ability to notice things like that.
“Relax,” he drawled lazily. “You look like I’m planning to sacrifice you to Satan or something.”
A chill ran up your spine. “Are you?”
He looked down at you over his nose. “I’m still deciding on that.”
You blinked at hi, slowly. “I’m sorry. What?”
Titus looked downright delighted by being one the receiving end of your scrunched up face. “Oh, come on. You’re at a billionaire fundraiser. You have to know at least half these people are one blood ritual away from immortality.”
A look of horror washed over your face as your blood ran cold. He stared back, visibly trying not to laugh.
“You’re joking,” you finally decided on with a small, uncomfortable laugh.
“That’s the fun part.” He tilted his head slightly. “You really can never tell.”
Oh, absolutely not.
Every single alarm bell in your body started ringing simultaneously in a way that hadn’t happened yet. See, Terry hadn’t felt as dangerous as he was calculated and manipulative. Titus felt like mad chaos draped in designer fabric, like someone had handed a deeply unstable man unlimited money and simply hoped for the best.
“You have the exact same face as someone I trust,” you informed him cautiously, “and you’re doing irreparable damage the longer this conversation continues.”
“How will you ever recover?”
“Hopefully the moment we go our separate ways.”
Titus laughed softly again before gesturing out toward the ballroom. “So, what’s your role here? Underpaid attending? Morally exhausted nurse? One of those residents constantly on the verge of collapse?”
“You guessed all of those so confidently it’s a bit concerning.”
“I donate to hospitals constantly, and I’ve watched enough caffeine addictions develop in real time to identify the species.”
Despite yourself, a small giggle escaped, to which Titus noticed instantly. And the look on his face afterward morphed into something even more dangerous.
“So you are capable of laughing,” he murmured. “You look less miserable when you do that.”
The words hit unexpectedly hard because Andrew had said almost the exact same thing days earlier. However, when Andrew said it, it sounded like he did out of a deep concern, but when Titus said it, it sounded like you were a small bug under a microscope. Apparently, this entire cursed lineup shared one collective personality trait, and it was psychoanalyzing you against your will.
You pointed at him. “No. You don’t get to do that.”
His eyebrows lifted innocently. “Do what?”
“You are not allowed to suddenly become emotionally observant when you were just talking about devil sacrifice thirty seconds ago.”
“Is it a sin to be attentive?”
“It’s a sin to act like you care when obviously I’m merely just a game to you.”
Titus grinned into his glass. “Oh, I definitely like you.”
Before you could spit back another insult, another man suddenly appeared beside you with the kind of smooth interruption that felt almost rehearsed. You silently thanked everything that could hear you when the familiar height towered over you.
“There’s my favorite resident,” Robby announced as he took your right side.
You glanced over at him and tried not to melt at the sight of his navy suit that looked slightly less expensive than Titus’s but worn with significantly more exhaustion in the way Robby existed in. His expression softened as he looked down at you. You could have hugged him on sight.
Robby’s brown eyes, normally filled with kindness, bore fiery into Titus’s. “You don’t mind if I borrow her for a moment, do you? I think one of our department heads was looking into speaking to us on behalf of our emergency department.”
His lie was painfully obvious but deeply appreciated on your side. You started stepping away before Titus could start another conversation about ritual sacrifice, however, the sound of his voice made you pause and look back just as Titus was pulling out a sleek black checkbook from inside his tuxedo jacket.
Double oh no.
He scribbled something quickly before tearing the check free and holding it out toward you between two fingers. “For your hospital.”
You stared down at the number and tried not to faint on the spot.
“Titus—”
“What?” He looked genuinely amused now. “You people keep fixing rich idiots after yacht accidents. Consider it gratitude.”
“That is way too much money.”
“Probably.”
“You cannot casually hand people checks equivalent to a small lakeside house in Italy.”
“Sure I can.” His lips twitched into a smirk. “Watch me.”
You hesitated before slowly taking in.
Robby clanged at the amount over your shoulder and physically winced. “Holy fuck. Gloria’s going to be floored.”
Titus lifted his glass again with a lazy smile. “See? Devil worship pays well.”
You backed away after that. “Okay. I’m going to leave before you buy me a cursed mansion that makes me blow up or something.”
“How did you know that was next on my list?”
“It seemed very on brand.”
Thankfully, Robby took the break in conversation to steer you safely toward the other side of the ballroom, champagne still in one hand and a horrifyingly large Danforth charity check in the other.
Once the gap was large enough, Robby leaned down enough to whisper, “Tell me I’m not seeing things, and that he didn’t look exactly like Jack.”
You let out a large, exasperated sigh. “Robby, you have no idea.”
_______________________
At this point, you genuinely believed the universe was mocking you. There was no other sane explanation for the past few weeks.
One doppelgänger had been weird coincidence territory. Two had been unsettling. Three had crossed into psychological combat. Four had nearly gotten you murdered in a parking lot. And the fifth had tried to recruit you into what might’ve been a satanic cult before handing you a charity donation large enough to make a hospital board cry (Gloria did indeed faint as well).
You were simply done.
Officially. Completely. Done.
Which was exactly why, when you stepped out of the hospital just after sunrise (the result of a last-minute night-shift swap) and spotted a familiar figure leaning against the hood of a dark truck across the street, your immediate reaction wasn’t relief but unequivocal annoyance.
The city still looked half-asleep around you, pale morning light stretching across damp pavement while your exhausted coworkers shuffled toward their cars clutching coffee cups like lifelines. Your overnight shift had run disastrously long, leaving you tired enough that your thoughts felt wrapped in cotton. The added lack of a Jack Abbot didn’t do well to settle any wants of seeing the man again with your own two eyes.
And standing there beneath the weak gold light of sunrise was yet another salt and pepper-curly-haired man with nice shoulders and light hazel eyes.
Unbelievable.
You didn’t even break stride this time.
“Nope,” you called out while crossing the sidewalk. “Absolutely not. I’m not doing this again. You can’t pay me enough.”
The Jack-a-like straightened at the sound of your voice.
You pointed at him warningly before he could speak. “I don’t care if you’re emotionally repressed, weirdly observant, secretly corrupt, or involved in a ritual sacrifice. I’m done talking to Jack Abbot doppelgangers.”
A long silence followed before he said one word.
“What?”
You frowned at his voice and the way it felt familiar in your ears. None of the others had ever quite managed to get Jack’s timber down correctly. Your steps slowed, and the man pushed away from the truck fully now, confusion pulling at his features while dark circles sat heavily beneath his eyes like he hadn’t slept in days.
Your chest tightened achingly so, because that—that was Jack Abbot, actually Jack Abbot.
Your Jack.
For one horrible second, your brain refused to process it properly. After weeks of running into twisted reflections of him everywhere, seeing the real thing suddenly felt almost unreal itself. It made you suspicious.
You scoffed at him. “Okay. Which one are you?”
Jack stared at you with somehow even more confusion, your name coming out oddly through his lips. “Excuse me?”
“The firefighter was flirty. The cop was emotionally stable. The quiet one stared at me like a sad shelter dog in one of those ASPCA commercials. The southern one was definitely corrupt. And the rich one threatened me with devil worship.” You pointed accusingly at him. “So what’s your thing, and please make it quick because I obviously need more than six hours of sleep.”
Jack stared at you in complete silence.
“. . . You met a rich version of me?”
“You have no idea how bad this has gotten.”
“Sweetheart, what are you talking about?”
The utter bewilderment in his face finally settled something inside you, because none of the others had ever looked at you like that.
Brett had looked entertained.
Sammy had looked understanding.
Adnrew had looked curious and quietly lonely.
Terry had looked scheming.
Titus had looked delighted with a new play thing.
But Jack?
Jack looked at you like he’d been waiting long enough out here for you to start getting worried, like seeing you finally emerge from the Pitt had made him relax just enough. Suddenly, it all clicked at once.
“Oh.”
Jack’s brow furrowed deeper. “What?”
“You’re actually him.”
“Yeah?” He sounded almost offended. “Who else would I be?”
A helpless laugh escaped you before you could stop it as you visibly deflated, exhaustion and pure relief tangling together so suddenly it made your eyes sting.
Jack took a step closer, your name falling from his chest. “Hey. You okay?”
His immediate instinct to take care of you was what did it. It wasn’t his face or his voice or his tired eyes or broad shoulders or any of the things that the other had shared. His concern for your wellbeing that had seemingly been stitched directly into his bloodstream no matter how tired he got. Your throat tightened unexpectedly.
Jack’s expression softened as he moved closer. “What happened?”
“You happened,” you informed him weakly.
“That really didn’t explain anything.”
“It does in my head.”
“Which is terrifying.”
You laughed again softly, rubbing tiredly at your face before looking back up at him. Now that the real Jack stood in front of you, the differences felt almost embarrassingly obvious. Brett had been warm but too easygoing; Sammy had been grounding in a way that felt comforting but oddly distant; Andrew had carried gentleness around him so openly it hurt to look at; Terry had weaponized familiarity until it felt dangerous; and Titus had turned charm into performance art.
But above all, Jack felt safe.
Even as he was standing there exhausted and grumpy in front of you sleep-deprived with yesterday’s hoodie thrown over a wrinkled scrub top, something about him always made your world quiet enough to where it felt manageable, like you could get anything done without worrying about the next moment.
You stared at him for a long moment before realizing he was still waiting for an explanation. So, unfortunately, your exhausted brain chose honest-to-God honesty.
“You know what the worst part was?” you asked softly.
Jack crossed his arms in front of his chest. “I’m scared to answer that.”
“They all looked like you.” You voice quieted slightly. “But none of them were you.” You glanced away, trying to organize thoughts that had apparently been building for weeks now. “Brett was nice. Sammy was . . . easy to talk to. Andrew was sweet in this sad kind of way. Even the crazy rich one was weirdly funny.” You huffed out a tired laugh. “And every single time I kept thinking maybe that was why my brain kept confusing them for you.”
He stayed quiet.
“But each time, they failed horribly at being Jack Abbot for longer than a two-sentence introduction.” You looked back up at him with glassy eyes. “Because all they had was just your face. They didn’t have the way you make everything feel less awful when you walk into a room. They didn’t have the way you pay attention to people even when you pretend that you’re annoyed. They didn’t have the way I never have to wonder if I’m safe with you.”
Jack looked caught off guard.
“I kept meeting all these parallel versions of you,” you continued softly, exhaustion making everything spill easier than normal, “and every time something still felt missing.” Your mouth twitched faintly. “Turns out it was just . . . you.”
He kept quiet for a long moment as the morning traffic hummed somewhere down the street while patients and employees alike trickled from the Pitt’s doors. You bit your bottom lip, waiting with anticipation for him to say something.
Finally, very quietly, he spit out, “You compared me to a satanic billionaire before saying all that.”
A tired giggled burst out so suddenly it nearly doubled you over. “You can’t believe how thankful I am that it’s actually you this time.”
Jack shook his head slowly, but you caught the way his mouth softened slightly. “C’mere.”
The words barely left his mouth before he was reaching for you, hand gripping your forearm lightly before pulling you forward against his chest with the kind of familiarity that made your entire body finally relax for the first time in days.
That was another difference too.
None of the others had ever felt like home.
You buried your face against his chest with a tired groan. “If another man with your face talks to me this week, I’m filing a police report.”
Jack’s chest shook slightly beneath your cheek. “Again me?”
“Wouldn’t be entirely you,” you mumbled. “Just your face.”
A quiet laugh rumbled through him before his hand settled against the back of your head.
“C’mon,” he murmured. “I’m taking you home before you start hallucinating more versions of me.”
You tilted your head back just enough to look up at him. “You promise you’re the real one?”
Jack stared down at you for one long second.
“Did any of them kiss you?”
A blooming warmth covered your face. “What?”
“The firefighter,” he said evenly. “The cop. Satan guy.” His jaw tightened. “Did any of them kiss you?”
“No,” you admitted quietly. “Wouldn’t let them either because they weren’t you.”
His hand slid gently against your jaw before he kissed you like he’d been thinking about it the entire conversation. His lips felt warm; the kiss careful and tired in the same way you both were but all the same steady.
When he finally pulled back slightly, your forehead resting against his, nose brushing along the skin right under his eye, you smiled weakly.
“Okay,” you said softly out of breath. “Yeah. Definitely the real one.”
Jack laughed quietly against your mouth. “Are you 100 percent sure?”
You pretended to think for a second before shaking your head. “Nope. Gotta kiss you again just to be sure.”
He smirked before pulling you back into another soft kiss.
F - fluff S - smut A - angst
♡ - series ☆ - one shot ◇ - imagines and drabbles
yeri's favourites
last updated - 26/05/2026
⤷ fic count - 43
@annsfics ——————————
☆ constantly on my mind | A.
⤷ you & jack have both pined after one another since day one. due to always believing the other to be disinterested, however, it's led to resentment, jealousy, & hurt on both sides. just when he thinks he's about to lose you, jack traipses up to the roof to fix things before any chance he might've once had with you is gone for good.
☆ while you were sleeping | F.
⤷ when a med student accidentally sticks you with an anesthetic intended for a patient, jack sits with you until its effects wear off to ensure you don't have an allergic reaction. while under the effects of the drug, you make many confessions which he finds to be both entertaining and endearing.
@asawanitrinitysantos ——————————
☆ salt and pepper | F.
⤷ after a long wait, jack finally gets your attention while youre doing skincare—but a small comment from you shifts the mood in an unexpected way.
@barnesdreamcatcher ——————————
◇ child birth aftermath | F.
⤷ twelve hours after your daughter is born, jack stares at you with quiet contemplation. he’s holding your little bundle of joy in his arms, her eyes closed firmly. she’s been asleep for thirty minutes now, but you are still awake. more so, awake again.
@belleeebelleee ——————————
☆ jack abbot x fem!reader | F.
⤷ jack tries to romance you. somehow, it always goes horribly wrong. luckily for him, you're a lil gone for him.
@buglass ——————————
☆ are we dating the same guy? | F.
⤷ while you and jack have known each other for some time from working at PTMC, you’ve only just started dating. with your history of dating the wrong guy, your paranoia wins as you post him on a facebook page called are we dating the same guy? | pittsburgh, where women can let you know if they’ve had a bad experience with someone. the only problem is, the guy is usually not meant to find out.
@deathreverse ——————————
◇ jack abbot x reader | S.
⤷ jack and reader have been dating secretly for a little while and finally decided to tell everyone
⤷ [ part 2 ]
@domesticblisss ——————————
☆ pizza and sopranos? | F.
⤷ jack hates galas. he hates them even more when you can’t come with him.
@ficdelusioncore ——————————
☆ i can't believe you | F. A.
⤷ because of bad experiences with men, you don't think that someone could actually like you in a romantic way, and because of that, you don't notice how your attending is down so bad for you.
♡ i'm a weak man for you | F. A.
⤷ you transfer to the pitt after all the insistence your uncle gives you, just to end up on the night shift getting a crush on not just your chief attending but also your uncle's best friend. what happens when robby discovers that his niece is dating his too-old best friend?
⤷ [ part 2 - always and forever ]
@fictionalmendepartment ——————————
☆ every second matters | A.
⤷ between ED handoffs, bad coffee, and sleepless nights, you slowly become each other’s safe place. then an accident changes everything, forcing them to stop pretending their connection is just friendship.
@ho4fictionalmen ——————————
☆ any doctos in the house? | F.
⤷ working as a coyote is fun - until you miss catching a bottle your coworker threw
@iheart-madmax ——————————
♡ holding out, hoping you'll come around | F. A.
⤷ what happens after jack sees a patient kiss you, will he back down or will he keep trying to get you to go out with him?
⤷ [ part 2 - after hours ]
@in77rainbows ——————————
◇ attending physician dr. angel headcanons
@internetsidequest ——————————
♡ the difference between us | F. A.
⤷ after being honourably discharged from the army, you arrive in pittsburgh with a half-finished residency, a body you are still learning how to live in, and a past you have no intention of unpacking. dr. jack abbot is supposed to be a professional contact, nothing more. but he notices too much, understands things he should not understand, and carries himself with a familiarity you cannot quite place. what begins as professional tension slowly becomes something harder to ignore.
@justalittlepitt ——————————
◇ this drabble
@lavenderchaise ——————————
☆ dr. jack rabbit | F.
⤷ while trying to comfort a peds patient, you let your secret nickname for jack slip.
☆ hold my girl | F.
⤷ “give me a minute to hold my girl.”
⤷ [ part 2 - on-call ]
@loves-alibi ——————————
◇ this drabble | S.
⤷ toxic!jack abbot who never thought he’d have kids (f!reader)
@lunarayletters ——————————
☆ in this together | A.
⤷ “did you call her again?” a simple question that an anxious jack didn’t appreciate.
@m4nderin ——————————
☆ jack abbot x pittfestvictim!reader | F. A.
⤷ jack abbot recognizes a familiar face during the worst night of his career
@mcthsman ——————————
☆ ring | F.
⤷ you have a huge crush on the night shift attending of your new workplace, dr. jack abbot; he's nice, he's kind, he's always giving you his undevided attention. too bad he is married to the day shift attending, dr. robby robinavitch.
@midnightgardentales ——————————
☆ oh, to be young... | F. A.
⤷ after telling y/n she should ‘enjoy being young and single’, jack abbot will come to regret it…
@missgrass ——————————
☆ code hula hoop | A.
⤷ loosely based on the grey's episode where meredith is attacked. you are married to jack in this scenario and are attacked by a patient. jack beats himself up for not being able to protect you, just all around fluff <3
@moodyabbott ——————————
☆ jack abbot x reader | F.
⤷ jack really hated when she worked a double in the morgue. not because he didn’t respect her job! he did.
@moondustfairies ——————————
☆ babies, med students, and angry attendings | F. A.
⤷ yours and jack's baby girl wasn't feeling too well and when you tried to find jack in the ED, some condescending doctors thought it would be a good idea to send you away, jack reacts exactly as you thought he would.
@multipotentialitepisces ——————————
☆ friends of mine | F.
⤷ when jack finds out you’ve been moved to day shift for the weekend, he’s upset you’ve abandoned him. what he doesn’t expect is to see you hours after you left while he’s on shift. reader’s best friend’s bachelorette night out, and you end up back in the ER with a member of the bridal party when she slips in the bar and wounds her head, and jack can’t stop staring at you in your going out outfit ;)))
@oxalaia-quilombensis ——————————
♡ nfwmb | F. S. A.
⤷ the ED of pittsburgh trauma medical center could be a hazardous place. you learn that first hand when a violent encounter leaves you unable to work and needing help with everyday tasks. thankfully, your attending, dr. abbot, takes it upon himself to ensure you get the safety and healing you so desperately need. it certainly doesn’t hurt that tension you’d thought was one sided seems to be pulling both of you closer and closer as your walls break down.
@porchlightfairy ——————————
☆ sleepyhead | F.
⤷ a little girl from the PTMC daycare keeps finding her way to the ED. jack allows the girl to stick around because he finds her mom very attractive and wants to see her again.
☆ eulogy | F. A. ⤷ while jack is at work, reader experiences undescribable pain. come to find out she was suffering from an ectopic pregnancy and is rushed into the hospital during shift.
@princessofphiladelphia ——————————
♡ somewhere inbetween | F.
⤷ jack going out with a first year pediatrics resident, who also happens to work at the PTMC and it’s lowkey a slow burn secret situationship to relationship fic
⤷ [ part 2 part 3 part 4 part 5 part 6 ... ]
@redd-blushing-roses ——————————
☆ i think you're in denial | F.
⤷ jack begins to notice little things. the way you have trouble reading signs, the squinting, the headaches. in spite of your insistence you don't need glasses, sometimes the doctor knows what's best.
@richeeduvie ——————————
◇ this drabble
@rosemaryswritingg ——————————
☆ medical charts and crystal arts | F.
⤷ when the pitt's new recruits discover that the mysterious doctor abbot is married, they start making assumptions. she must be a lawyer, another doctor, perhaps a detective or a journalist. what they don't expect is for her to be a crystal-wielding yoga instructor.
@satellite-evans ——————————
☆ hula hoop | F. A.
⤷ after a violent patient attack leaves you critically injured, jack is forced to confront what it means to almost lose the person he loves.
@savemefromanepicoftimewasted ——————————
☆ i'll always choose you | F.
⤷ jesus, even when you were playing around you always managed to be the most beautiful person in the room. maybe this was heaven and he'd died on the way into work.
@se7entyrell ——————————
♡ supercut of us
⤷ the one where jack accidentally knocks up robby's little (step)sister in his final year of college
@thatsthatbridepresso ——————————
☆ red, white, and positive | A.
⤷ [ part 2 ]
@the-shedevil-writes ——————————
☆ seeking comfort | F. A.
⤷ you haven't told your boyfriend jack about your anxiety. he has enough on his plate and enough baggage to deal with. nut one night it becomes too difficult to hide.
@uwulyn ——————————
♡ jack's chunky universe | F.
⤷ [ part 1 - chunky baby determined to be fed ]
⤷ [ part 2 - chunky baby wanting mommy's attention all to himself ]
⤷ [ part 3 - situation happens once more and jack has to improvise ]
⤷ [ part 4 - pregnancy cravings with robby involved ]
@weird-is-life ——————————
☆ brother-in-law | F.
⤷ jack meets robby's little sister for the first time and falls immediately in love
@whats-in-the-fuckin-giftshop-man ——————————
♡ it's nothing | F.
⤷ you hit your head and don't want to wait for medical treatment, but jack will be damned if he lets you leave
@youknowiloveyou-so ——————————
☆ our little life | F. A.
⤷ your husband is called to the ED as your emergency contact. You both receive unexpected but happy news.
guys!! i got a job, a big girl job. today’s my first day and i’m nervous!! i promise i haven’t forgotten about you, i’ll finish up the fics i have in progress and will post them as soon as i can
pls angsty🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏 trinity and student doctor or intern! smau + written
Wish you were here . . .
tags: trinity santos x ex!reader, med student reader, angst, hurt no comfort, just sad hours all around, trinity is going through it, emotionally constipated, grief, mixed media (written part + instagram post)
notes: thank you anon for sending in a request! I kind of ran off with this, so if this isn't what you were looking for, please feel free to send another in with a few more details! if you'd like to join my permanent taglist please comment on this post ! I'd say enjoy but this one is sad ☹️
word count: 3.6k
social media aspect: two instagram posts
y/n.l/n posted Tuesday, November 3, 2025
liked by trin.santos, dwhitaker, jessy.wall, zachshack, and 428 others
y/n.l/n first week of pediatrics in the bag! cannot wait to be dr. l/n beside the love of my life dr. santos (who has been my BIGGEST supporter) I love you so much 🤍
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trin.santos awww baby ilyyyyyy - you're gonna do so many great things! we'll be dr. santos squared soon! ❤️
*liked by author
y/n.l/n I CANNOT WAIT TO BE DR. SANTOS TOO ❤️
dwhitaker congrats, y/n!
*liked by author
y/n.l/n thank you so much Dennis! can't wait for our next game night!
dwhitaker as long as we don't play monopoly again 😅
trin.satnos you just hate that I win every time
jessy.wall UUHHHHHGGGG YOU'RE TOO CUTE! thanks for sticking with me this week!
*liked by author
y/n.l/n of course of course! we pedes need to stick together! 💪
jessy.wall RIGHT ON 💪
✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦
The Valentine’s decorations started appearing three days earlier and somehow multiplied overnight like bacteria. The holiday, known for gifting loved ones overpriced chocolates, felt vaguely threatening in the ER.
Every available surface looked like a craft sore had exploded and been invaded sometime before dawn by aggressively cheerful decorations that looked deeply out of place against the trauma bays and stale fluorescent lighting. Paper hearts dangled from the ceiling tiles above the nurses’ station, twisting lazily every time the ventilation kicked on. Pink and red streamers curled around computer monitors. Someone had even taped little candy-themed puns onto the supply cabinets, though one had already been crossed out in Sharpie after being deemed “too explicit for patients’ wandering eyes.” The bowl of conversation hearts beside reception had dissolved into a colorful pile of sugar dust from too many people digging through for decent flavors.
Trinity Santos believed they all tasted like classroom chalk anyway.
She, like most people, hated all of it the moment she stepped through the doors, even if she’d never openly criticize any of it.
No one in the Pitt ever got the luxury of opening hating holidays. The department simply absorbed them whether anyone wanted it to or not. Halloween meant fake spiderwebs hanging over crash carts. Christmas meant blinking lights zip-tied around equipment and thankful-family photo cards delivered to the doctors who had saved someone close.
And Valentine’s day apparently meant Dana arriving thirty minutes early to tape glitter hearts onto every clipboard she could physically reach.
Trinity’s face was already flat and void of any saccharine happiness as she walked through the hall toward her locker.
“You look miserable,” Victoria informed her the second she walked up to the resident.
Trinity shrugged out of her jacket and tossed it into her opened locker without much effort before scrolling through the short list of notifications on her phone. “We work in emergency medicine, Crash. Misery’s part of the dress code.”
Victoria snorted, but her attention sharpened at the sight of a rather large reminder lighting up Trinity’s phone before she could scroll any farther.
DON’T FORGET TONIGHT ❤️
Her grin widened in an instant. “Trinityyyyy,” she said, dragging out the brunette’s name dramatically. “You have Valentine’s plans!”
Trinity barely glanced up from the screen, setting the device down in favor of tying back her hair. “I always have plans.”
“With your girlfriend, right?”
“The one and only.”
Victoria leaned against the counter like she’d just stumbled onto premium gossip. “You literally never tell us anything about her. How long have you two been together?”
“Couple years.”
“That’s insane. You’re insane. If I had a girlfriend, everyone would know. I’d be clinically unbearable.”
Trinity rolled her eyes. “You’re already clinically unbearable.”
Victoria pointed accusingly at her. “Deflection; you’re deflecting.”
A snort escaped Trinity’s nose at the accusation, something she’d been perfecting for months. In possibly any other scenario, the sound might have been genuine, but she made sure that nobody would’ve guessed how rehearsed it had become. Without looking over, she started walking back down the hall and toward the nurses’ station with her usual efficiency, grabbing a chart, checking rooms, signing on labs, all while Victoria continued poking at her relentlessly about date plans.
“Where does she work?”
“Presby. Fourth year med student.”
“So, where are you taking her?”
“She’s taking me somewhere.”
“Ooooh, okay. Fancy.”
“She likes to think she’s fancy.”
“Flowers involved?”
“Most definitely.”
That earned her a very dramatic sigh. “I hate happy people.”
Another rehearsed sound came from low in Trinity’s throat just as Dennis rounded the corner carrying two coffees from the vending machine. His expression softened almost at the sight of the smile on her lips.
Dennis knew enough. He knew how Trinity sometimes stared blankly at patients with your hair and eye color. He knew how she physically could not force herself to go back to an empty apartment when he was away at Amy’s farm. He knew how her sharp personality was an exact result of missing you too much to the point she didn’t know how to handle it all.
Unfortunately, Dennis had never been particularly good at hiding emotion. His eyes lingered on Trinity a little too long and a little too sadly before he handed his roommate one of the hot cups.
And unfortunately, Victoria picked up on it, her face morphing from a smiling one to a somber and concerned look. “Oh.”
Dennis blinked. “What?”
“Nothing.”
But it clearly wasn’t nothing; not when she was looking between them like she’d accidentally uncovered relationship problems she wasn’t supposed to know about. Dennis looked quietly heartbroken every time Trinity mentioned her girlfriend even though Trinity kept smiling through it. The conclusion practically built itself inside her mind.
Things must be bad.
The day only made it worse.
By midmorning, Dana had trapped Trinity near the medication station while reorganizing charts for the third time in an hour. She nudged Trinity lightly with her elbow, gray eyes warm beneath the permanent exhaustion she seemed to carry.
“So,” she asked casually, “big plans tonight?”
Trinity glanced up from the tablet in her hands. “Yeah, actually.”
“Dinner?” Dana asked with a smile.
“Something like that.”
“That’s good. You deserve something nice outside this place for once.”
The kindness in her voice nearly caught Trinity off guard. The feeling of missing you had become increasingly difficult these past few months to the point she could barely tell which moments genuinely hurt and which ones only hurt because they reminded her of something she longed for. Simple questions carried landmines inside them now. Innocent conversations became unbearable without warning.
But like always, she smiled. “She’s been planning it for week apparently.”
Dana laughed softly. “Then you better act surprised.”
“I’m a phenomenal liar.”
The honest-to-God truth.
“Not even remotely true.”
How odd.
Trinity opened her mouth to respond when Dennis walked past carrying patient files. He heard enough of the conversation to visibly tense before continuing toward another room. Dana had been fast enough to catch the motion, and sympathy crept into her features too carefully to be accidental as that awful misunderstanding settled deeper into place.
“Well . . . I hope tonight goes okay.”
Trinity frowned slightly. “Why wouldn’t it?”
The blonde looked momentarily trapped by the question. “No reason.”
But Trinity noticed the way her eyes had briefly darted toward Dennis retreating down the hall, and a heavy realization clicked in her mind.
Victoria and now Dana thought you and her were breaking up.
The insight should’ve been funny, yet it carved into her like a hot knife through butter. Technically, from the outside, what else were they supposed to think? She talked about you constantly while Dennis reacted like someone discussing a terminal patient. No one knew about her sleepless nights while you were away. No one saw her nearly vomiting when the distance overwhelmed her to the point of being nauseated.
So, for today, she let them believe it because that was easier.
The questions continued all day anyway.
Robby asked while cutting through deep tissue in Trauma One, absently wondering out loud whether Trinity was finally taking a night off for “some poor girl desperate enough to date an ER doctor.” She simply responded that her girlfriend had stopped expecting reasonable hours by her first semester of med school and your internships.
Garcia asked later when she came down for an OR consult, completely oblivious to the strange undercurrent everyone else had begun sensing. She smiled while guiding Trinity through a procedure and asked if Trinity’s girl was at least prettier than the hot surgeons upstairs (one hundred percent including herself without saying).
Trinity smiled without looking up. “Way prettier.”
“Damn,” Garcia laughed. “Serious serious, then.”
“You have no idea.”
Dennis had been standing close by for that one too, awaiting instruction to step in if necessary. Trinity watched as he looked down afterward, jaw tightening hard enough to flex. Too bad the two weren’t the only ones in the room.
By the middle of the shift, half the department had quietly decided Trinity was headed toward heartbreak. People spoke to her more gently. Victoria stopped making jokes. Dana kept giving her these subtle, sympathetic looks whenever Valentine’s Day came up in conversation. Even Robby’s usual strict nature lost some edge after a while.
And through all of it, Trinity continued speaking about you like you were waiting for her at the apartment.
“She hates when I skip meals.”
“She’ll probably complain if I’m late.”
“She likes those awful chocolate-covered strawberries.”
Every sentence flowed with a natural confidence that the night wouldn’t end with you breaking up with her and send her packing.
Near the end of the shift, one of the older patients caught Trinity while she adjusted an IV line beside the bed. The woman smiled knowingly, wedding ring glinting on her finger.
“Young lady like you shouldn’t be stuck here on Valentine’s day,” she said warmly. “Your sweetheart’s waiting.”
Suddenly, all Trinity could picture was your side of her bed untouched this morning. Your spare toothbrush still sitting beside hers at home waiting for the next time you slept over. The Valentine card hidden in her locker she bought three days ago out of instant even though she didn’t know if she’d be able to give it to you in person this year.
Still, she smiled.
“Yeah,” Trinity replied softly. “She is.”
_______________________
The Valentine’s Day shift ended like any other shift at the Pitt: sudden and all at once.
The ER drowned in noise while the night shift filtered in wearing fresh scrubs and half-awake expressions while the day staff began peeling themselves away from computers and patient charts one by one.
Trinity disappeared before anyone really noticed she was gone.
Dennis did, though; he saw the exact moment she signed out, saw her hesitate for barely half a second when someone wished her a good Valentine’s date, saw the smile she forced in response, her lips thin after twelve straight hours of pretending. He watched her grab her jacket, grab a small bouquet she bought during her lunch break at the stand across the street, shove her hands into the pockets, and head toward the elevators without another word.
She wasn’t headed to the parking garage. She was headed up—to the roof.
He watched the elevator doors close and felt dread settle thickly in his stomach. He pressed a hand over his mouth briefly, guilt twisting hard between his ribs. He should’ve stopped it earlier. Should’ve pulled someone aside before the rumors started spiraling into this awful misunderstanding. But every time he’d almost said something, Trinity’s expression stopped him. There had been something so deliberate in the way she spoke about you all day, like convincing others you were waiting for her would make it all come true.
The sliding ambulance bay doors opened before Dennis could think himself any deeper into the guilt. Cold evening air swept briefly through the Pitt as Jack Abbot stepped inside, one hand gripping his backpack strap while the other was shoved loosely into his scrub pocket.
Dennis moved quickly. “Dr. Abbot.”
Jack barely had time to glance up before Dennis was already crossing the floor toward him. Something in his expression must’ve communicated urgency because Jack straightened almost instantly, concern replacing the tired neutrality on his face.
“What’s wrong?”
Dennis exhaled slowly through his nose. “Can you do me a favor?”
Jack frowned slightly. “Depends.”
Dennis glanced toward the elevators before lowling his voice. “Trinity went up to the roof after shift.”
“She, okay?”
“I don’t know,” Dennis admitted quietly. “Today was . . .” He paused, visibly struggling for the correct phrasing. “Bad.”
Behind the two, Victoria looked up from the nurses’ station at the tone of Dennis’s tone. Dana paused beside her halfway through signing paperwork. Even Robby slowed while walking toward the exit, already looking dead on his feet.
Jack studied the blond carefully. “What happened?”
Dennis rubbed tiredly at the back of his neck. “Everyone kept asking about Valentine’s plans, about her girlfriend.” His face tightened with obvious regret. “I don’t think anyone realized, but it’s not like she told anyone either.”
Jack’s brows pulled together slightly. “Realized what?”
Victoria blinked. “Wait.”
Her voice cut through the small gathering silence beginning to bubble around them. Dennis looked over at her, confused by the blatant confusion on everyone’s faces.
“Are they not . . .” Victoria continued. “They’re breaking up, right?”
A horrible silence followed, and Dennis stared at all of them before understanding hit him all at once.
“Oh,” he breathed before swallowing hard. “That not—no, they’re not breaking up.”
“Then what’s wrong?” Dana asked.
Dennis looked around before sighing. “Trinity’s girlfriend died a few months ago.”
No one spoke, but around the nurses’ station, grief swallowed everything. Dana’s hand lifted slowly toward her mouth. Robby looked horrified. Victoria just stared blankly at Dennis like she genuinely couldn’t process the sentence she just heard. Suddenly, every interaction from the entire day replayed itself in brutal clarity.
Victoria sat down in the nearest chair like her knees gave out. “No,” she whispered, shaking her head, eyes glossed over. “No, no, no—all day. We kept asking her all day.”
Jack had gone still, expression carrying something older than surprise, something quieter and far more painful. Recognition maybe, the kind born from having survived similar losses yourself.
“When?” he asked, voice steady and soft.
“About four months ago.”
Jack’s hazel eyes tracked toward the elevator doors that Trinity had disappeared behind earlier. She was on the roof, alone, on Valentine’s day after spending twelve hours listening to people unknowingly ask about someone she buried. His jaw tightened.
Dennis finally spoke again. “Would you maybe go talk with her? She’s drowning in grief she doesn’t know how to handle, and I’m scared—” His voice cracked, rest of the sentence dying between his teeth.
For a moment, Jack stood there clutching his bag while the weight of the situation settled over the area in awful silence before nodding once with a long exhale.
“Yeah,” he answered. “I can do that.”
At his words, Dennis’s face crumpled into a mix of relief and gratitude.
No one stopped Jack as he crossed toward the elevator. Behind him, the guilt hung thickly over the nurses’ station while everyone sat there not knowing what to do or how to go on with their night while one of their own was hurting so much. The slid open with a soft ding, and he stepped inside.
Dennis let his shoulders drop slightly, because if there was anyone who’d be able to get through to Trinity, it’d be Jack Abbot.
_______________________
The roof was freezing even though winter had started loosening its grip weeks ago, but the wind still cut through scrubs and settled deep into bone. Pittsburgh stretched endlessly beyond the hospital walls, glowing gold and white beneath the darkening sky while sirens echoed faintly somewhere far below.
Trinity sat near the ledge with her knees drawn loosely toward her chest, her jacket half-zipped and bouquet resting beside on the concrete.
The flowers looked ridiculous now.
Tiny pink carnations wrapped in crinkled plastic with a crooked little red ribbon taped around the steps. She’d stepped out earlier and grabbed them from the stand because that’s what she always did on holidays or anniversaries or random Tuesdays when she saw they had stocked your favorite flowers near checkout lines. Habit had become dangerous like that. Sometimes her body remembered loving you before her mind remembered losing you.
Jack spotted her without difficulty as he stepped out onto the roof quietly, letting the heavy door shut behind him with a muted clank before stopping a respectful distance away. Trinity glanced behind her at the sound.
“Am I in your spot?” she asked, face turning back to look toward the city.
“If you think I have a spot then I must really seem depressing,” he stated while walking closer.
That earned the faintest huff of air from her, but still not quite a laugh.
He moved beside her slowly before lowering himself onto the concrete, knees protesting immediately from age and old injuries. His prosthesis stuck out awkwardly to the side to relieve at least some pressure. His eyes glanced over and softened at the sight of the city lights reflecting dimly in the wetness still clinging to Trintiy’s cheeks, though she kept her face angled away enough to pretend she wasn’t crying.
The two didn’t speak for a while because Jack had learned years ago that grief hated being rushed.
Finally, Trinity spoke first. “I’m guessing they know now?”
Jack nodded. “Yeah.”
She tried to laugh softly, but the sound cracked apart halfway through. “Fuck.” Her fingers tightened around the bouquet stems. “I spend the entire day talking about her like she was still alive.”
Jack looked out over the city. “Maybe because she still is to you.”
Trinity’s face twisted sharply as she looked down at the flowers in her hands, shoulders beginning to shake before she could stop them. She’d held herself together too long already; through the shift, through the innocent questions, through every forced smile and every accidental knife wound disguised as casual conversation. Now her grief came back all at once, ugly and overwhelming and impossible to contain.
“I don’t know how to stop,” she confessed, voice trembling apart. “Everyone keeps waiting for me to start talking about her in past tense, and I can’t do it.” Her breathing hitched painfully. “I can’t—I can’t make myself do it because every time I try it feels like I’m killing her again.”
Jack’s throat tightened.
The wind swept across the rooftop again, tugging loose strands of Trinity’s brown hair across her face while she cried openly now, exhaustion finally tearing through the composure. There was nothing graceful about grief once it fully surfaced. It hollowed people out, made them younger somehow, smaller than they’d ever been.
Jack leaned his forearms against his knees. “When my wife died,” he began softly, “people kept telling me I’d move on.”
Trinity laughed bitterly through tears. “Is that everyone’s favorite thing to say?”
“Yeah.” He smiled faintly without humor. “I wanted to punch every single one of them.” He exhaled slowly. “The truth is that you don’t move on from someone you loved like that; you move forward with them.” His eyes stayed fixed on the skyline. “That kind of grief doesn’t leave. You just learn how to carry it without letting it crush you ever day.”
Trinity stared down at the flowers. “I’m so tired,” she whispered.
“I know.”
“No, I mean—” Her voice fractured again. “I’m tired of pretending I’m okay. I’m tired of going home and talking to someone who isn’t even there. I’m tired of reaching for my phone every single damn time something funny happens because she’s the first person I want to tell.” Tears slid steadily down her face. "I still buy her favorite snacks without thinking about it.”
Jack stayed still with silent listening.
“She used to leave sticky notes in my jacket pockets,” she continued shakily. “I found one last week, and I swear to God it felt like being shot.” Her hand pressed suddenly against her mouth as another sob escaped. “I can’t go on like this forever.”
“You won’t,” Jack responded gently.
Her green eyes lifted toward him, devastated and searching. “How do you know?”
He held her gaze for a long moment. “Because one day you’re gonna tell a story about her and laugh before you cry. And that doesn’t mean you loved her any less. It just means the good parts finally stopped drowning with the bad ones.”
For several minutes after that, she cried harder than she had in months. They weren’t the restrained tears she allowed herself alone at night, trying to keep them quiet enough to not wake up Dennis. They weren’t the silent grief she swallowed between shifts when someone with your eyes came in and looked up at her with nothing but kindness. This was full-body devastation, years of love with nowhere left to go. And Jack stayed beside her through all of it without interruption, letting the storm pass naturally instead of trying to fix it.
Eventually, her breathing steadied enough to speak again.
“She used to sing terribly in the car,” Trinity murmured hoarsely, wiping at her face. “Like genuinely awful; off key and everything.”
Jack smiled softly. “My wife thought she could bake.”
“She couldn’t?”
She nearly burned our kitchen down twice.”
A watery laugh sounded between them.
Slowly, their conversation shifted. Trinity started talking about the way you stole food off her plate no matter what you ordered for yourself. Jack told her about his wife falling asleep during movies and insisting she’d been “resting her eyes.” Trinity admitted you used to hide terrible, cheesy Valentine gifts weeks early because you got too excited to wait. Jack confessed his wife once wrapped a bowling ball for Christmas without warning him.
The stories hurt, but for the first time in months, they hurt warmly, like a fire you just wanted to reach out and grab to feel all its heat, like wounds touched by sunlight instead of salt.
And for now, that had to be enough. She could talk and cry about you all night, but that wouldn’t bring you back. Trinity realized that the night was the first time since losing you where talking about you hadn’t felt awful, where she could gently float through your memories instead of drowning with them.
trin.santos has posted
liked by dwhitaker, danaevans, tori.javadi, and 230 others
trin.santos thank you baby for all the laughs, smiles, and jokes I'll get to remember for the rest of my life. you were going on to do such great things in pediatrics, and life took you away way too soon. I hope you know that I will love you forever. happy valentines day ❤️
tagged: y/n.l/n
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dwhitaker y/n knew how much you loved her. so thankful I got to meet her, and got to see how much she loved you, trin
*liked by author
trin.santos thanks huckleberry
tori.javadi she seemed so so sweet. tell us about her next shift?
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trin.santos of course
danaevans praying for her soul, trinity. she's still loving you from wherever she is
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jackabbot next time, we'll make sure to go spend a day with her
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trin.santos as long as we can go see your wife as well
jackabbot deal
robby.robinavitch please never hesitate to reach out if you need a few days. we're all a team here
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cw: +18 MDNI. age gap (not specified but reader is around her early/mid 30s and jack is early/mid 40s), reader’s an attending, smut, unprotected p in v, porn with a tiny bit of plot, cowgirl, fingering, kissing. lowkey a pt 2 of this fic but can be read as a single fic. i’m still new to the whole writing smut thing but here’s my honest attempt. also this is not proofread so sorry for any possible mistakes!
the pitt masterlist
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“you’re avoiding me”
“i’m not avoidin—i have no time to avoid you. i’m trying to do my job” you lied. you’d obviously been avoiding him for almost a week
you were thankful for the morning shift’s sudden need for extra hands at the beginning of the week, it had given you every chance to completely avoid crossing paths with jack abbot while working. and it had worked, at least until today, five whole days later as he made his way into the er with the emts and a sick child
“how’s the kid?” he asked you and you finally lifted your gaze from the ipad on your hands
“he’s gonna be fine. the fever’s going down slow but steady” you softly smiled at him, “you did a good thing bringing him in” you reached into your scrub pocket for your chapstick. after you applied it you saw jack staring at your lips, “snap out of it”
he chuckled, looking down at his hands. “wanna go out to dinner on saturday?”
“jack,” you looked at him, “it was a one time thing. we agreed on that”
he chuckled again, “no, we didn’t agree. you decided it by yourself.” you opened your mouth to say something but closed it when you couldn’t think of anything. he took the opportunity to lean closer to whisper in your ear, “besides, i know you want this as bad as i do”
your pager vibrated on your pocket and you groaned at the buzzing sound, “don’t get your hopes up, abbot. i told you i’m not going out with you again” you lowered your voice before saying, “it was a one time thing”
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“this doesn’t mean anything”
“i think it does, sweetheart,” jack cockily said, brushing the hair out of your face. you feared he might be right, considering your current position. you were sitting on jack’s lap, half naked only wearing your underwear. he was in a similar situation, only wearing his boxers, sitting under you
dinner had been nothing short of amazing. jack had taken you to an amazing restaurant that was new and you had been dying to try for a while. the food was delicious and the glasses of wine gave you enough confidence and courage to pull jack forward by his shirt and crash your lips with his just as he had opened his car door for you. which inevitably led you to take each other’s clothes as soon as the door closed behind you
“shut up, abbot” you groaned before closing the space between the two of you to connect your lips. you hated he was right, and you hated that you were enjoying the situation more than you should
jack was kissing you hard. one of his hands tangled in your hair, the other holding your waist, slowly moving you against his clothed erection. you gasped and he took the opportunity to drive his tongue into your mouth
you pulled slightly away before mumbling against jack’s lips, “this is the last time.” you pointed between you two
“whatever you say, gorgeous” he nodded before leaning forward to kiss down your neck, “i won’t even bring it up when you beg me to do this again”
you chuckled, “you really have a high ego, don’t you? this is never happening again”
“never say never, angel” he muttered against your neck, biting softly on it. you leaned your head to the side to give more space for him to kiss and bite. your hand reached up to run your fingers through his salt and pepper curls making him groan while pressing open mouthed kisses down the column of your neck
you let out a breathy moan at the feeling of his stubble against your neck, rocking your hips against his to try to hide the shiver coursing through your body. jack’s hand that was holding your waist traveled lower to cup you through your panties
you let out a loud moan at the mix of his hand cupping you and his mouth working its way down the other side of your neck. he pulls your head back by your hair to crash your mouths together once again. the kiss is hungrier than before, teeth clashing softly against each other’s and you moan when his fingers press on your clit through the fabric, “angel, you’re soaked”
you moaned, “less words and more action, abbot.” you moved your hips against his hand to keep chasing the pressure. he chuckled against your lips before lightly biting your lower lip in between his teeth. your hand flew down to grab his wrist when he pressed his fingers harder on your clit and you let out a shaky breath. “fuck, jack”
“what? are you close?” he asked with a teasing tone finally moving your panties to the side to rub circles against your clit without any barrier
“fuck you” you moaned out, hand going to his back, fingers pressing against the broadness of his back
“it looks like that’s exactly what we’re doing, sweetheart,” he smirked before fully pressing his lips against you once again in a bruising kiss and slipping two fingers inside you, settling them deep inside you. he pulled back, “fuck, angel. this is better than i would’ve ever imagined”
your body arched against his hand as he fucked his fingers deeper into you. he curled them just at the right angle to touch that spongy part inside you. he set a steady pace, the heel of his hand pressing against your clit. your nails dug onto his back getting a groan out of him. your mind was hazy and you were moaning louder and louder each time, “come on, angel. let go, i got you”
you arched your back, chest pressing against his as you rode your high. when you finally came down from it, feeling jack’s lips softly pressing kisses on your temple, fingers still inside you. “breathe, angel.” you took a deep breath in, relaxing on his hold, “good girl” he pressed another kiss on your temple, brushing the hair out of your face as he slowly pulled his fingers out of you. you shivered at the feeling, fingers pressing down a bit on his shoulder. “you okay?” you nodded before grabbing his face and pressing a kiss on his lips
you rocked yourself on his lap again before reaching for the hem of his boxers, “can i?” he nodded and you pulled it down, freeing his dick. you reached between the two of you, wrapping your hand around him to feel him on your hand. you pumped him a couple of times before pressing him close to your entrance. he groaned when he felt you slowly sinking down on him. your nails found their place on his back once again, eyes crewing shut at the feeling of him inside you
he let out a moan when he felt you clench around him, his forehead falling down to the space between your neck and shoulder, “fuck, you’re so tight”
“you’re–uh–fuck”
“breathe for me angel” he lightly bit your shoulder before saying, “i’m gonna move now.” you nodded, moaning again at the feeling of him inside of you. he grabbed your hips, moving you back and forth so you could ride him. “you feel so good. doing so good for me. my good girl”
you moaned louder at his words, “fuck, jack.” throwing your head back at the feeling
“you like that, don’t you?” he kissed his way up your neck before reaching for your lips, “fuck, i’m close” he lowered his thumb to press on your clit and before you knew it you reached your second orgasm
“thank you, jack” you pressed your lips to his again before getting up and getting dressed
“see you soon, doll” he said as you closed the door, throwing his head back against the couch with a chuckle
omg your last post based on greys had me thinking!! can u do a fic based on season 1 episode 3 when derek sees meredith making out with a patient but with jack & reader;))))
holding out, hoping you’ll come around
jack abbot x younger!attending!fem!reader
title inspired by: season 2 weigh loss - harry styles
part two
what happens after jack sees a patient kiss you, will he back down or will he keep trying to get you to go out with him?
wc: 2.5k
cw: based on s1 e3 of grey's. age gap (it's not specified but reader is around her early/mid 30s, jack is early/mid 40s), reader is an attending, reader's nickname is ace, possible medical innacuracies (i'm not a doc, sorry), it gets sad in the middle and it is based on something that happened to a cousin of mine :/, mentions of sex, mentions of child death, open ending (might do a pt2, who knows). i suck at summaries so sorry for that 😭
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you knew you were in for a treat the second the word 'quiet' left ogilvie’s mouth. if looks could kill, ogilvie would’ve died, came back alive, and immediately died again. at least eight pairs of eyes–between doctors and nurses–were set on him after he said it. he looked up to see why everyone had suddenly gone quiet, and quickly realized everyone was glaring at him. before he could ask anything, lena called for everyone to be alert. there was an accident during some kind of underground motorbike race and you were the closest trauma center
“thank you so fucking much, ogilvie” ellis said from beside you, and you had to cover your mouth so you could try to hide the chuckle that was bubbling up your throat
it was safe to say the pitt had turned into a mess. traumas coming in left and right, some less severe than others, and you selfishly were nitpicking what patients you were going to treat
“nate davis, thirty-three year-old male, had a small metal tube sticking to his lower abdomen” ogilvie said, presenting the case to you
“hello, mr davis” you introduced yourself as you put on some gloves, “this is a teaching hospital, do you mind if student doctor ogilvie watches and assists?” the man shrugged and shook his head, “okay. ogilvie, what were your orders?”
“uh, he refused exams and a ct, but the wound looked superficial, so i removed it and told him he could leave after his sutures” that made you turn to look at him
“did you remove it without a ct or at least an ultrasound?” you asked him and sighed when he stuttered and you tskd your tongue in annoyance, “ogilvie, go see if shen need you” you sent him off, “sorry for that sir” you gave him a small smile, turning back to look at him
“no need to mention it, babe” you could tell the man was trying to flirt with you. your eyebrows shot up an amused expression on your face "kinda my fault. told him i didn't want any of those"
“oh, you’re australian,” he nodded. “where from?” you asked, sitting down on the chair in front of the bed
“brisbane” he gave you a big smile
“i’ve heard it’s lovely” you cleared your throat. “okay, i’ll have to order you some tests before i stitch you up and send you on your merry way”
“no, doll, no tests,” he shook his head “just patch me up so i can go”
“how about i stitch you up and then we’ll discuss the tests?” he nodded with a big smile on his face, “great, then. mateo!” you called for him just as you saw him walking nearby, “can you please get me a suture kit? four-oh monocryl and some lido. thank you!”
“you seem like a good teacher,” the patient said before asking “how long have you worked here?”
“this is my first day being a doctor, actually” you said with a very serious look on your face but let out a chuckle when you saw his face, “oh god, i’m sorry” you laughed, “it’s–i’m joking. i’ve been working here as an attending for around two years” he hummed in response just as mateo walked into the room with the things you had asked him, “okay, mr davis–” he interrupted you “call me nate, babe” you nodded at his words, “okay, nate. you’re going to feel a pinprick and some burning” he hummed in agreement as you injected the lidocaine and started the sutures
“ah, you got a nice touch” he groaned as you were stitching him up “and by the way. you are a rocking babe”
you let out a chuckle, “seriously, has that ever worked on anyone?”
“not really, but i like to think i’ve got a shot anywhere” he gave you a smile and a wink
you shook your head, “look, you really have to let me get you some tests done, and a ct” you looked up at him after finishing the last stitch, “you could have internal bleeding”
“no thank you” he shook his head “i’ve got a race to get back to”
“why? it’s not like you can win now anyway” you looked at him with a mocking expression
“doesn’t mean i can’t cross that finish line. there’s a party at the finish line. do you want to meet me there?” he lowered his voice to try to sound even more flirty than before as you put the dressing on the wound
“one ct and i’ll have you out of here in an hour” you said back
“can’t do it, gotta go” he shook his head
“okay, well, you realize that you’re leaving against medical advice even though i strongly advice you to stay” you sat up leaning backwards, hands on your knees
“the other guy said i could go–”
“the other guy is a pain in my ass” you interrupted him and rolled your eyes before letting out a sigh “okay, if you really want to go you’ll have to sign an ama form”
“darlin’, i’ll do anything you want me to” he leaned forward, getting close to your face and you shook your head
“what is it with you guys and your need to dirty everything up?” you shrugged your shoulders
“i don’t know” he said and you hummed “maybe it’s just testosterone, eh?” he shrugged
“maybe. you might wanna see a doctor about that, too” you took one glove off, grabbing the ipad to pull up the form, "remember, don’t get it wet for twenty-four hours and you’ll have to come back in a couple of days so i can take those out” you pointed at the stitches
“come here,” he said, taking the ipad from your hands to sign the form “there, all signed up” he said, getting up. you stand up seeing him take a few steps towards the door before turning back. he grabbed your face and kissed you. you froze, “that was for good luck” he said, pointing a finger at you before walking away “don’t worry, darling, you’ll see me again”
“for your sake, i hope not!” you shake your head and start taking off the other glove. you looked up as you turned around, seeing jack making direct eye contact with you before entering the room, “what do you want?” you huffed
“you make out with patients now?” he asked, arms crossed against his chest and brows up to his forehead
“what are you, jealous?” you bit back a scoff
“i don’t get jealous” now was his turn to let out a huff
“jack, we had sex, once” you took the chance to close the door behind jack, crossing your arms as you stood in front of him
“and we kissed” he paused before adding “in an elevator”
“and we kissed, in an elevator, once” you rolled your eyes, emphasizing the last word.
“no, seriously, i mean come on, go out with me” he uncrossed his arms, widening his stance and putting his hands on his scrub pockets
“no” you let out in a breath, softly shaking your head
jack was taken aback by your tone “you know, i almost died today. yeah, i came like” he makes a gesture with his hand “this close. how would you feel if i died? and you didn’t get a chance to go out with me?”
you huffed, your mouth dropped open “oh, get over yourself already” you shook your head, “you get shot at for fun, you are at risk of dying every other day”
“come on” he shook his head with a dry chuckle
“it’s the chase, isn’t it?” you said before he could say anything else
“what?”
“the thrill of the chase” you started, “i've been wondering to myself, why are you so hell bent on getting me to go out with you?” you added, “you know you're my boss, you know it's against the rules, you know i keep saying no” you pointed out, “it's the chase”
“well, it's fun, isn't it?” jack shrugged, a teasing glint shone in his eyes. you didn’t want to admit it, but his answer had sent a wave of hurt to sting in your chest. it made you feel ridiculous, really. you weren’t a thing. sure, you were colleagues, even friends, but you weren’t a thing. you made that very clear the moment those elevator doors opened after you guys had kissed
“you see? this is a game to you” you said with a tone of disbelief, turning your body to the door. “but not to me. because unlike you, i will always have something to prove” you finished before walking out, leaving jack standing inside the room
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you wanted to punch something, someone. you were a level headed doctor, the interns and med students loved to come to you because of that. but sometimes, you lose it a little. you felt like you had to, because if you didn’t, you wouldn’t be able to be that level headed doctor they all love and respect
this shift was dragging longer than it needed to and the last case you’d been pulled into was the one to successfully tip you over the edge. a little girl, a very cute and lovely little girl not older than eight years, had taken her new bike for a ride the day before. she had fallen, as it was to be expected, but what her parent didn’t know was that she had crashed against a car, hitting her head. the girls little sister had repeated her sisters words to you. she said she hit her head against a car, she said, she said she didn’t want mom to ground her so she didn’t say anything and just went to sleep. you felt horrible for the sister, she had woken up from a nightmare in the middle of the night and wanted to be cuddled by her older sister. but no matter how much she tried, the older girl didn’t wake up. and no matter how much you all had tried, the girl had died
pittsburgh looked so beautiful from where you were standing, eyes glossy and stuck ahead on a building that had a couple lights on, people getting ready for their days, you assumed. “you know you can cut your shift short, right? no one would blame you” jack’s voice came from behind you, “but you’d have to tell lena. i know she would like to know if she was an attending short for the rest of the shift” jack waited for you to say something, anything really. but you kept quiet, sight set straight ahead on the view. a deep breath left your body and jack knew you were trying hard to keep the tears from falling, “ace?”
“she was eleven” you said softly and jack almost missed it, “my sister. she was eleven when she died” you let out a shaky breath, “i lost her years ago, but it felt just–” you breathed in, “it feels like it just happened again” jack was now standing next to you, hands on the rail, “she died because she didn’t want our mom to ground her after she hit her head so bad when riding her bike” you pursed your lips and shook your head, some tears falling down your face. “i’m so tired” you sobbed “i don’t know why i keep doing this” you shook your head, dryly laughing, “i’m so fucking tired” you wiped the tears on your cheeks with the back of your hands before licking your lips
“ace, it’s not your fault” jack said softly and you let out a dry chuckle
“i know,” you nodded, more tears leaving your eyes, “i fucking know it’s not my fault. just like i know it wasn't entirely my fault twenty-six years ago when my sister begged me to not tell our parents, but i should’ve” you bit the inside of your cheek, “and even though i know it’s not my fault, i can’t help but feel guilty. because i could’ve saved her” your left hand left its place on the rail to fly to your chest, rubbing it to calm down the slight pressure. jack moved closer to you, wrapping his arms around you. he held you close, one hand around your back, the other holding the back of your head
“it’s okay, ace” you leaned your head on the crook of his neck still sobbing, your arms coming to wrap around him, “it’s okay”
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seven am came slower than you would’ve liked. you had avoided jack as best as you could after the moment you shared with him on the roof. it was fairly easy, after the clock hit three, everything calmed down. you hadn’t gotten any much more traumas so you took your ass back to triage and had the chance to clear the waiting room as much as you could
“this looks peaceful for once” robby’s voice came from the door on your left
“oh, it’s seven already?” you asked, a slight tone of surprise laced in your voice. you lifted your left arm to check the time on your smartwatch seeing that, in fact, it read 7:35 am. you let out a dry chuckle, “you’re late, doc”
“and you’re still here” he bit back and you shook your head with a small smile, “i thought you’d already left”
“nah, still finishing up back here” he shot you a look, “i’ll leave after rounds finish, i promise” he had a confused look, “you’re not the only one that’s late”
he huffed out a laugh and shook his head, promising to send back one of the residents so you could go home and, true to his word, ten minutes later, samira was practically pushing you out of triage so you could pick up your things and get your ass home–her words, not yours
after picking up your things you walked back to the break room to refill your water bottle for the way home. you were rubbing the sleep and tiredness out of your eyes when the door closed behind you
“it's not the chase” jack suddenly said, surprising you
“what?” you turned around to look at him
he slowly walked to stand really close to you. “you and me” he said, hand pointing between the two of you. “it is not the thrill of the chase. it's not a game. it's–it's your big heart. and your hair”
“my hair?” you were confused but had the start of a small smile on your face
“smells good” he shrugged, eyes running over your face, “and you're very, very bossy. keeps me in line” he softly nodded, his eyes looking down at your lips
you were trying–and failing–to bite back a smile. you let out a sigh and shook your head, “i'm still not going out with you”
“you say that now,” he said in a low tone, a cocky smirk tugging on the corner of his lips, turning to leave. “i’ll see you tonight, ace” he added, opening the door and stepping outside, leaving you biting your lip to stop the grin on your lips from becoming bigger
cw: kissing, fluff. saw the pic in the middle and this just came into my mind
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“you want me to what, exactly?” you asked, brushing your hair out of your face from your place on mel’s lap
“i want you to kiss me” she answered, hands holding onto your hips
“no, baby, i—i understood that part” you softly chuckled “i just don’t fully understand why you want me to kiss you all over with lipstick”
“i just want you to kiss me” she pouted her lips and you took the chance to kiss her pout
“okay. i’ll do it” you saw her expression shift to a happier one. you smiled, scrunching your nose before leaning down to fully kiss her before you had to get up to look for your lipstick. “okay.” you pulled back, “let me look for it and i’ll be right back!”
a few minutes later, you were sitting back on mel’s lap, mouth painted with you cherry red lipstick, “okay, stay still. i’ll start kissing you now”
she smiled, fully beaming at you as you lowered your face to hers. you pressed your lips on her temple, hard enough to leave the mark of your lipstick-clad lips on it. you moved to her cheek, getting a giggle out of her mouth. the next kiss was on the corner of her mouth and she tried to turn her head to the side to press her lips against yours but you pulled back. “no, baby. you wanted me to kiss you all over with lipstick, you’ll have to wait a little bit”
she groaned, “let’s stop now.” she pursed her lips “just kiss me”
you shook your head before lowering it to press your lips against her neck, once, twice, three times before moving to the other side and you heard her let out breathy moans as she felt your lips pressing against the column of her neck. you trailed lower, kissing her collarbone before kissing down her lacy-bralette covered chest. “i have to put more lipstick on if you want the marks to be darker” you handed her the small mirror so she could see them
she nodded, looking at the marks through the mirror. “i want you to put more lipstick on, please.” it was your turn to nod. she passed you the mirror so you could correctly apply the lipstick. when you finished, she grabbed your face and lowered it until your lips were connected. the kiss is soft. her lips are warm, slightly trembling as if this was the first time you two kissed
your hands flew to cradle her face, lips softly dancing against one another. one of her hands drifts down to hold your lower back and her fingers clenched around your hip for a split second, making you groan softly against her mouth
but there’s no rush. you two keep kissing softly, and when mel pulls back, she rests her forehead against yours, breathing deeply. “thank you. i love you”
you give her a smile and peck her lipstick-stained lips before saying, “i love you, too”
girl your i think he knows fic was so good i literally can’t. wanted to request anothaaa santos x nurse reader inspired by i can see you by ts 😉😉 much love
i can see you
trinity santos x nurse!fem!reader
wc: 2.4k
cw: +18 MDNI. based on this ask! drinking, reader wears a skirt and boots, no specific physical descriptions, fwb kinda situation, hidden relationship, kissing, smut, fingering, oral (trinity recieving)
a/n: this is my first time writing any kind of smut so pls be kind w me and let me know your thoughts. also, sorry for being mia lately, i'm mid semester so school's been beating my ass. idk if this isn't exactly what the anon asked for but i hope you like it!!
the pitt masterlist | part two
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“hey, you’re here!” you turned around at the sound of samira’s voice with a smile on your face
“of course i’m here, babe. it’s your birthday, i wouldn’t miss it for the world” you gave her a tight hug and a peck on the cheek. “you look smokin’ hot” she smiled at your words. you weren’t lying. she was wearing a strapless black dress, her usual tied up hair was in a half up half down which suited her face a lot, “what’ve i missed?”
“you’re one to talk” you shook your head with a small smile but you knew she was right. the jacket, top, and skirt combo you were wearing hugged you in all the right places and the knee-high boots tied up the outfit pretty well
samira started telling you everything that had happened in the hour and a half before you walked into jack’s backyard; mel and langdon flirting incessantly in one of the lounge chairs, victoria and mateo trying to win a round of pool against cassie and joy, whitaker taking too many shots back-to-back and tipsy swaying around the backyard with kim and shen, and jack and robby trying to one-up dana in a quick round of poker while they grilled the meat. before you had the chance to ask for her, you saw trinity make her way out the door, walking towards you
“didn’t know we’d be graced with an angel’s presence tonight” she said with a slightly slurred voice
“yeah, whitaker was not alone during those shots” samira chuckled before walking towards the table, where parker had put a couple sweets a couple minutes before
“hey, sweets. you look smokin’” you tried to bite back a laugh at her slightly slurred words
“thank you, dr santos” you gave her a soft nod, “i could say the same about you”
“dr santos? what’s up with all the formalities?”
“we’re at a colleague’s birthday party” you bit the inside of your cheek, “we gotta be careful if we don’t want anyone to know our business”
she chuckled, “what would you do if they found out about us?”
you bit back a small smile, “i think it’s best if that doesn’t happen” you lifted the glass in your hand up to your lips, “at least not yet”
she bit her lower lip and your gaze flew down to the movement, wanting to be the one biting it, “i guess i can get behind that”
“that’s good then” you took a sip of the wine to hide the smirk on your lips
“wanna meet me at mine later? whitaker’s going to the farm after this” she looked up trough her lashes and you nodded
“sounds like a plan”
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“finally” she groaned against your lips as she closed the door behind you
“sorry. samira was rambling and i didn’t know how to get out of it” you mumbled against her lips
she playfully rolled her eyes, “it’s okay. you’re here” she said before kissing you harder than before. you dropped your bag on the floor before grabbing her waist to pull you into you. she took off your jacket, dropping it to the floor next to your bag and you pulled away slightly to take off her top. she took the chance to take yours off as well before diving back to kiss you
the kiss wasn’t soft. it was hungry, teeth clashing against each other and you could taste the tequila she had drunk back at abbot’s house. her body pressed against yours instantly, making way well into the living room to lay down on her couch, pulling you to sit on top of her, one of her hands resting on your ass. you took off your bra, leaving you bare from the waist up on top of trinity. she groaned before sitting up to kiss you again
the two of you started devouring the other, and the hand resting on your ass traveled back up until her fingers were ghosting your nipple. you moaned into the kiss and she took the chance to kiss down your neck, leaving open mouthed kisses on her way down. you start to rock against her, trying to open the button of her pants so you could take them off
“trin,” you sighed, “please, touch me”
she chuckled against your neck, her hand still toying with your nipples, “i am touching you”
“you know what i mean” you rolled your eyes in pleasure when you felt her mouth sucking at your neck, “remember we said no marks” you breathed out
“no visible ones” she murmured against your pressure point and you sighed, again
“mhm, no visible ones” you softly moaned and she kept making out with the side of your neck as her free hand traveled down to be under your skirt. you let out a lewd moan when she pulled aside your underwear and two of her fingers made contact with you clit
“sweets, you’re soaked” you didn’t have it in yourself to bite back at her lightly mocking tone and, apparently, she didn’t have it in herself to keep teasing you since her hand traveled lower to gather the wetness before going back to your clit to press light circles against it
two of her fingers slowly made their way into you, making you clench on them. you let out a breathy moan at her movements, your head falling back at the feeling of her fingers inside you. your hips move against her hand, riding it as you chase the pleasure. the mixture of her hand and her mouth on your neck makes you come faster than you would’ve liked, but it’s not like any of you were complaining or anything
when you come down from your high, she slowly pulls her fingers out, making you shudder. and you moan when you see her lick them clean. you kiss her again, tasting yourself on her tongue, making your way down her body with your lips until you reach her breasts, “can i take this off?” you ask, toying with the hem of her bra
she nods, a breathy moan escaping her lips when you suck on her left nipple and your hand comes up to the other one, pinching and teasing it. you slowly keep making your way down, taking the hint of taking her pants off when she raises her hips, wiggling them to take them off
you take off her underwear and place soft and tender kisses on the scars around her upper thighs. “stop teasing me” her voice comes out hoarse, pleading, and who are you to deny her anything she wants? so, you kiss her right where she wants you. your lick up a long stripe before you start to make out with her pussy. you could hear her gasp and moan over you as you slid two fingers inside her. her hand shot down to your hair, holding down your head against her and you groaned at the feeling
you knew she was close, so you suck on her clit before groaning against her, “let go, baby. i got you.” her head pressed harder against the couch, moaning loud as she came all over your tongue
after that, you two were laughing, laying on the couch only wearing your underwear, legs tangled together when her phone vibrated on the coffee table. trinity reached over to look and you giggled softly, trying to hold her back against you “don’t. leave it alone” you said softly
“lemme see” she giggled, looking at her lockscreen and the notification made her sit up in a panic, “shit! you gotta go”
“what?” you asked confusedly, making her show you the screen, where a bright ‘omw home. going to pick up some takeout!’ from whitaker made you sit up in a panic. “shit! i thought you said he’d be at the farm?” you asked, putting on your boots before picking up your skirt from the floor and throwing it on fast. trinity shrugged with a grimace and grabbed you by the waist, giving you a soft kiss before you threw on your shirt. “i’ll see you soon, beautiful”
she licked her lips, a smile creeping up on her face, “your shirt is on backwards!” she called from her place on the couch, now wearing an oversized shirt over her underwear
“don’t care!” you said before closing the apartment door. the way down on the elevator was a bit weird, one of their elderly neighbours was giving you side glances at your disheveled state and you tried your best to keep the laughter inside
once you got into your car you let out the breath and laugh you had been holding, throwing your head back against the seat rest. you pulled your phone out of your purse pocket to play some music as a message came through, making you smile
trin
thx for tonight
it was fun
i had fun
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tuesday morning rolled around and with it, the most boring shift you’d had in a while. you guessed it was fine, at least it was better than the alternative, nobody wants a horrible shift. which is why you were sitting down next to princess and perlah playing a round of uno in the breakroom
“uno!” you said, placing down your card. princess groaned and perlah shook her head, letting out a soft breath when the door opened and a very confused dana made her way into the room
“i know damn sure my nurses aren’t playing uno right now” you bit back a laugh at princess and perlah’s expressions
“come on, d” you sighed, “we’re not really doing anything right now”
“mhm. what about your patients?”
“they’re all taken care of," you shrugged, “we made sure before getting our asses in here”
she squinted her eyes before sighing, rubbing her hand on her face and calling your name, “dr al was looking for you. said your seven year old was asking for the cute nurse with the stickers” you let out a soft chuckle, dropping your last card and standing up to make your way into central eight
“a little birdie told me the cutest seven year old wanted more dinosaur stickers” you softly said as you made your way into the room to stand next to the little boy
“hell yeah!” he said with an excited expression that quickly fell a bit when he saw his mother’s expression, “sorry”
you chuckled and reached into your scrub’s pocket to take out the sticker sheet, “here you go, dylan” he grabbed it with the biggest smile you had seen in the whole time he had been there, “now, you wanna put them on your cast when they put it on?” he nodded enthusiastically, thanking you before telling his mother where he wanted the stickers, “let me know if you want more, ‘kay?” his mother nodded with a thankful expression and you winked at dylan before leaving the room
you walked back to the nurse’s station, checking the ipad dana handed you. “still no room for dylan upstairs?” she shook her head no, making you sigh, “damn. well, can you ask again? the boy’s been here long enough”
“i know, sweets. but there’s nothing i can do” she shrugged without looking at you
“pretty please?” you pouted your lips and blinked fast, making her groan
“fine. i’ll ask again” you smiled at her and gave her a hug. she patted your back as a way to tell you to let go of her, but she was loving it, you could see her in the giant smile on her face
“thank you d, you’re the bestest ever” you gave her a big kiss on the cheek before walking away to check on your other patients
you were walking by one of the supply closets when a hand pulled you inside it. “hey, what the hell!?”
“shh” trinity put her hand over your mouth to shut you up, locking the door with her other hand
“what’s going on?” you mumbled from behind it and she pulled it slightly away from your mouth
“nothing, really” she softly said, getting closer to you. you licked your lips just as she grabbed your face with both her hands, “i’ve missed you” she whispered against your lips
“you saw me two nights ago” you whispered back as she leaned forward and kissed you
the kiss started soft and gentle, but deepened when you dropped your hands to grab her waist. trinity sighed against your lips and you took the chance to slip your tongue on her mouth, moaning softly into the kiss
her hands moved until one was cradling the back of your neck and the other was running down your chest. she pressed you harder against the shelf behind you and you groaned into her mouth. “shh, they’re all gonna hear us” she softly said into your ear before pressing wet kisses against the side of your neck. your breath quickened and you could feel her hand drift under your pants, “you have to be really quiet”
“fuck, trin” you threw your head back against your best judgement, “we can’t”
she let out a dry chuckle against your neck, “i’ll be quick”
now it was your turn to chuckle, “we’re never quick, dumbass” you softly pushed her away, “we can finish this later” you pecked her lips before leaving the supply closet, fixing your scrubs before untying and tying back your hair
you saw her again an hour later as you made your way out of central eight after telling dylan and his mom a nurse from pedes would be coming down to get him to his room upstairs. you didn’t miss how she walked next to you, closer than anyone would deem normal, her hand slowly drifting down to the small of your back before her hand rested right on the other side, slipping a little note on your pocket before walking over to where whitaker was waiting for her
you pulled the note out when she was out of your sight and saw scribbled in her hand writing a little ‘meet me 2night?’
you pulled your phone out, quickly texting her. you see her trying to bite back a smile on the other side of the hub before your phone vibrates on your hand
you
wanna go back to mine after the shift?
we can order chinese
and i have a bottle of wine that’s been begging to be opened
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