Hey! Do you have any idea how many parts are left from the Jack Abbot series ? And do you have any idea when part 3 will be released?
Thanks for writting such a good strory☺️
oh! I'm thinking part 3 will be the final part! lol I'm not sure when it will be released. I'm currently working on a novel, so it's been taking all my brainpower! But possibly the second week of June!
Summary: Tensions rise as Jack is pushed further from your bedside by the people determined to protect you. But as grief, guilt, and unresolved feelings collide, he’s forced to decide whether staying in your life is an act of love or selfishness.
content warning: age gap (reader late 20s, Jack late 40s.), friends with benefits, no established relationship, hospital setting, car accident, no use of y/n, smut, angst, oral (f&m receiving), protected sex, overdose mentioned, loss of twin, grieving, alcohol abuse mentioned,
(Part 1) , this is part two
A/N: I’m sorry that took sooooo long! I woke up at 2:30 am-9am to finish this up! I hope you guys enjoy this! The next part will be a small time skip! Tags: @mafercita101 @tvdramasnut
Jack twists your beaded SpongeBob bracelet between his fingers. You saw it in Hot Topic and mentioned it briefly to him. Jack purchased it. He didn't know why at the time. He just knew it would make you happy. He places the bracelet back on his dresser and sighs. His wife’s blue urn sits to the left of your bracelet. Jack rubs his face and steps away, grabbing his shirt from the bed. He grabs his phone and backpack, heading into a shift for the first time in a week. He was advised to take time off, but all he could manage was a week before his thoughts sent him to the deep end. So back into the most conditioned part of his life. The Pitt.
Abbot walks by the nurse's station, where Dana removes her glasses to get a good look at the man in front of her.
“What the hell are you doing back?” She asks. Abbot places his backpack on the counter.
“Work. I have a job.”
Dana looks at Robby for input. Robby sighs.
“Jack, you really should take more time off. You-”
“Evans, I appreciate it. But here is where I need to be. I can be focused…Back home, I…I just need to be here.” Abbot sighs. Robby nods.
“Whatever you need. We got you.” Dana reaches out to hold his hand, but Abbot removes his hand from the counter, giving her a smile before walking off. Abbot moves through his shift with ease. Broken elbow, dislocated shoulder, Chest pain (that wasn't a heart attack), fever due to the flu, two car accidents, ear infection, and anaphylactic shock (why this person was eating crab legs at 4 am knowing their allergy), Abbot can’t answer that. He was able to control the emergencies in an environment that strangely brought him peace. Abbot stares in trauma room 2, where a week ago, his life came to a sad realization. He looks down at his hands and visualizes your blood again. His vision blurs, and his breathing becomes labored.
“Dr.Abbot. The patient is ready for the results in room 8.” A nursing intern steps in front of him with the chart. He snaps back into reality and gives a quick smile before taking the iPad and walking off. By 6 a.m., things have settled down, so Abbott slips away to the ICU. He takes a seat in the waiting area in the far corner, the same place he has become fond of for a week. It’s far enough back that they won't be able to see him, but he can see room 2118. Your parents made it clear that he is not allowed visits, updates, or a place at your bedside. Just a background character in your life. Waiting. Jack checks his watch and runs his hands through his hair. Footsteps approach before a cup of coffee is shoved in his face. Abbot is greeted by Dr.Reynolds smiling face. He takes the cup and sits back.
“Jack, what are you doing up on my floor again?” She asks, sipping her coffee. Jack circles his finger around the rim of the cup.
“This is the closest I can be near her. They can’t ban me from the hospital.”
“I think her family has money and can definitely sway the board into putting you on leave, then instituting a ban.” She smirks into her cup. Abbot rolls his eyes. She looks down at his left hand, still bare of the ring he has worn for many years.
“I can’t give you updates. You know that.” She stares at the room. He nods, and she stands up.
“But I will say all my patients on this floor are stable and slowly making progress. I am, after all, the best damn doctor in this fuck hole. I’m thinking about lowering the sedation on one of the coma patients to see activity. But that is up in the air for now. Oh, babies aren’t my thing either, but I take care of them, too. Take care.” She pats his shoulder and walks off. Abbott leans back in his chair. If they are thinking about lowering the sedation, that’s good news. They want to see if you’re responding neurologically. Abbot closes his eyes, leaning back. The sound of footsteps again forces his eyes open. Leila takes a seat.
“I stayed with her tonight. Her parents are arranging their work schedules and will be back soon.” She states. Jack is quiet and stares at the dark liquid in his cup.
“I didn’t think you would be here every day.”
“That doesn’t make sense,” Jack replies, sighing.
“It does. People usually cut and run when shit like this happens. I’ve seen it.”
“She’s pregnant with my child. She is important to me.” Jack nearly crumbles the paper cup. Leila looks towards your room.
“Do you love her?”
“Leila, what the fuck is this right now?”
“They don’t tell you anything, do they?” She asks. Jack shakes his head. If your parents saw him, it would be another argument.
“She would hate this.” Leila laughs as tears form in her eyes. Jack tilts his head.
“The hospital. This stupid fucking shit between you and her parents. She would hate being stuck in the middle of something she can’t control.” Leila whispers.
“She’s not stuck in the middle. She-”
“She is. You just don't see it the same way.” Leila wipes her eyes and stands up. She crosses her arms over her chest.
“You should leave.” She whispers calmly. Jack doesn’t move and doesn’t look up at her. His eyes remain on his cold coffee now.
“Why?” He asks.
“Because if she wakes-”
“When,” He corrects her. Leila pauses, looks at your room, then back at Jack. She nods her head.
“When she wakes up, this is still going to be here. Her parents. You. The baby. The fact that her life has changed dramatically overnight. If she had never met you…she wouldn’t have been out on the road that night. She would be safe at home. You brought her out, and that drunk driver…If you care about her, you need to walk away.”
“I care about her, Leila. You know I care about her.”
“Do you, Jack? Huh? How long is she supposed to live in the shadow of your dead wife? You’re not wearing that ring, but I bet it’s in your pocket! She’s going to wake up under pressure. Into expectations. Into people telling her what she should do.” Leila’s voice cracks, and Jack finally meets her brown eyes.
“And you think removing me will fix that?” He asks, his eyes softening and his jaw clenching.
“She didn’t tell you about the baby because she was trying to figure it out on her own before everyone got involved. Before her parents and even you started making decisions for her.”
“I would never force her to do anything she didn’t want to, Leila. You know that.”Jack stands up a bit defensively. Leila sighs and nods.
“I know….You should go. Her parents will be back any minute, and I’m sure you’re needed in your department.”
Jack watches her walk away before heading back to the ED to clock out and spend the rest of the day on the ICU floor. He stuffs his hand into the pocket of his scrubs and rolls around the wedding band. Your 29th birthday was spent with him, sharing both of your losses….and that was also the first time he met your parents.
It was pretty late by the time you finished up a crisis call. You worked all day and then all night with several crises. It wasn’t midnight, but close enough that it made it feel like the day had slipped away from you. You didn’t make plans with your friends because your birthday was always a quiet celebration for you and your brother. You unlocked your door and kicked off your shoes. Instantly, a smell hit your nose. You noticed your lights were on.
“Hello?” You spoke out, reaching into your bag for pepper spray.
“I’m in here,” Jack called out. You relaxed and put your purse on the entryway shelf. You walked into your apartment and found Jack standing over the stove. You smirked as he turned around, giving you his signature sly smile. He was wearing your pink Hello Kitty apron.
“You don’t have a key.” You stated the obvious.
“I didn’t need one.” He replied, leaning on the counter. You watched the muscle in his arms flex and bit your lip.
“That’s concerning.” You tilted your head. Jack turns back to the stove, and you round the counter to get a peek at the stove. Steam rose in soft curls, carrying a scent of garlic. You wiggled your nose, trying to get a sniff of what else he was cooking. He blocked your view. You stopped and crossed your arms, pouting.
“You broke into my apartment.” You smiled with no anger behind the words. Jack turned briefly to smirk.
“I prefer resourceful entry.” He replied with a smirk.
“That is not any better.” You chuckled.
“Eh, it got me inside.” He turned back to the stove.
“You are something else.” You leaned on the counter behind him, watching him cook.
“Grab your wine and have a seat.” He said over his shoulder. You decided to get out of your work clothes before following his command. You took a seat at your dining table, and Jack slid a plate in front of you. You watched the stem rise from the pasta.
“Should I be worried?” You asked. Jack kissed your forehead before sitting across from you.
“Probably.” He chuckled. You swirled your fork and took a bite. Your eyes grew in size.
“Oh, that’s good.”
“Thanks.” He laughed, digging into his food. The meal went on quietly, and the two of you retired to the couch. The wine already had you feeling warm inside as you cuddled against Jack. His thumb drew circles on your skin, giving you goosebumps. You leaned forward to set your glass down and turned to kiss him. Jack’s hands found your hips and pulled you full on his lap. His tongue traced against yours as you opened your mouth, deepening the kiss. Jack pulled away, feeling a tear on his face.
“No. No, don’t stop.” You mumbled. He cupped your face.
“Baby? What’s wrong?” He asked, wiping the tears. You sniffled, wiping your nose.
“My brother….it’s his birthday too. He was my twin.” You clutched your chest as Jack pulled you into a hug. You’ve hinted about your brother, but you always said he was older, so Jack assumed it was by years, not twins. He rubbed your back as you cried against his shoulder. The wounds were still fresh for you; hell, his wife has been dead for 5 years, and it was still a hard subject for him. This was year 3 for you and arguably the worst. The first year, it was a blur. The second year, you mentally come to terms with it, but the 3rd year is emotional torture. It eats you alive because you’re stuck between moving on with life or living in the cage of the past and loss.
“He…he died all alone. He must have been so fucking scared.” You sobbed. Jack continued rubbing your back, letting you soak his black t-shirt with tears. You told Jack about your brother's overdose, and you carried it heavily.
“It’s all my fault. I should’ve picked up the phone. I should’ve done more to help him.”
Jack pulled back on your shirt, forcing you to sit back and look down at him.
“Angel. It wasn’t your fault. You didn’t cause that. You’re trying to take responsibility for something that wasn’t yours to control.” He replied, rubbing your back. You shook your head.
“It was,” You snapped, staring down at him. Your sadness gave way to a hint of anger. Jack recognized that anger. He has worn that familiar mask in the beginning.
“No,” Jack replied more sternly. He sat up and placed his hands on your hips. His voice was firm but not aggressive.
“You don’t get that control over someone else’s life…No one does.” He explained.
“That’s not true.” You mumbled, looking away from his hazel eyes.
“It is.” He cupped your face, forcing you to meet his gaze. You stared down at him, calming yourself down.
“It feels like it’s my fault.”
“I know.” He tilted his head to get a view and really study your features. Your shoulders dropped slightly as you sank into your grief.
“I keep thinking about the last time I saw him. Maybe if I had said something different or stayed or-”
“It doesn’t change the outcome.”
“You don’t know that, Jack. It only takes a few seconds for fate to change.”
Jack exhaled and drew circles on your hips with his thumbs. He shifted under you, slouching back. You rested your hands on his chest.
“My wife died 5 years ago.” He whispered, closing his eyes. You watched as his Adam’s apple bobbed. You knew his wife was a touchy subject. Your eyes drifted to the band that adorned his finger.
“Cancer. We caught it late. By the time we knew what we were dealing with, it was already too late and moving faster than we could.” His voice was gentle around the delicate subject as his thumbs continued to trace on your hips. You relaxed under his touch, letting the silence drift comfortably.
“I was there for everything. Every appointment. Every Scan. Every change in numbers…I knew what was coming before anyone said it out loud.” He whispered, opening his eyes. You watched as his eyes drifted to the clock on the wall.
“And I still thought I could fix it. I kept thinking there was something I missed. Something I could’ve done sooner that would’ve changed the outcome.”
Your eyes went back to the ring as he began to fidget with it. He shifted under you again, and you sniffled, wiping your tears that had started to fall again.
“There wasn’t.” This time, he looked back at you and cupped your face in his warm hands.
“You can be trained. You can be observant. You can love someone enough to want to save them….and still not be able to. You don’t stop thinking about it. You don’t stop replaying it. You don’t stop wondering if there was a version of it where they lived….but baby, that doesn’t make it your fault.”
Your bottom lip began to tremble as you stared into his soft eyes. He rubbed your lip and gave a sad smile.
“That feeling doesn’t go away, does it?” You asked.
“No.” He replied. You put your head down, feeling defeated. Jack nudged your chin.
“But it changes.”
“How?” You mumbled, rubbing your cheek against his hand.
“You learn how to carry it without letting it decide everything else. And you don’t have to do it alone.”
You kissed his hand and let yourself relax. He pulled you into a hug, and you felt yourself unwind. Jack chuckled when he felt kisses on his neck.
“You have a way with words.” You sat up and bent down to kiss his lips. Jack slipped his hands under your shirt and unhooked your bra. You leaned back and took off your shirt and bra. He watched as you got off his lap and sat between his legs, biting your lips.
“Why don’t we head to the bedroom. I don’t want to end my birthday on a sad note.” You whispered, standing up. You pulled Jack to his feet, and he followed you to the bedroom.
It’s late afternoon when the two of you wake from your slumber. Last night, you both shared a bit of your grief and ended the night in bliss. Jack woke you up with a cupcake wearing only your pink Hello Kitty, as requested. He currently lay under you as you placed your hands on his chest, moving your hip, bringing both of you to another climax. His hands tightened around your waist, helping you bounce up and down. Jack bit down on his lip as he watched you work yourself on him. Sweat helped your skin glow as the afternoon sun peeked through the curtains. You had been at it for hours now, never getting enough of how Jack was able to make you feel between the sheets.
“So close.” You cried out as Jack’s hands squeezed your hips fucking into you faster as his hips snapped beneath you. You could feel him throbbing in tune with your walls as they fluttered. Your bedroom door flung open, and you screamed quickly, covering yourself as Jack sat up, putting a pillow to cover himself up. Your chest burned from the exhaustion, but soon started beating rapidly as your eyes met your mom and dad. No one moved. Your father’s eyes darkened and narrowed in on the older male in bed with his daughter. She clutched her necklace and her eyes widened, taking in your appearance of tangled sheets, loose hair, and naked. Her eyes darted to the man next to you. Much older than you. Jack pulled the sheets over himself and sat up, shifting instantly to full alert at the situation. He could tell that these were obviously your parents. You were a spitting image of your mother.
“Mom-”
“Who the hell is that?” Your father snapped. You pulled the blanket around you, trying to gather your thoughts. Jack shuffled around calmly, not rushed or panicked, but composed.
“I’m sorry. This isn’t how we should have met.” Jack broke the awkward tension building. Your mother gasped at the audacity.
“Met? You think this is a meeting?”
“Mom-”
“Where is Eric?”
“Mom, please-just let-”
“How long?” Your mother interrupted you, her eyes never leaving Jack’s. You're quietly doing your best to get out of this situation. Your silence makes your father step further into the room.
“How long?” He followed up.
“A while.” You whispered.
“A while? What does that mean?” She snapped, now focusing on you. You’re silent again. Jack cleared his throat. Your father looked over to him, sizing him up as Jack stood from the bed, wrapping the sheet around his waist.
“You’re not answering.” Your father said, directing it towards Jack.
“I’m not the one you should be asking. This is between you and your daughter.”
Your mother let out a humorless laugh, crossing her arms over her chest. “Oh, I think you’re exactly the one we should be asking.”
Her eyes did a quick scan and landed on his finger. Her expression hardens.
“Are you fucking married? I know it’s not to my daughter because she would never hide such a thing from me.”
“I’m widowed,” Jack replied. Your father’s jaw clenched.
“And you thought this was appropriate?” He asked. You’re so mortified that you try to dissociate from the confrontation. You pray God shows you mercy and forces the bed to swallow you whole, but no such luck for you.
“She’s an adult,” Jack stated. Your mother takes a step forward.
“She’s our daughter.”
“And she’s capable of making her own choices.” Jack snapped back.
“Don’t. Please don’t turn this into-”
“Into what? Us finding out you've been hiding a man, twice your age, in your apartment.”
“I wasn’t hiding him-”
“You didn’t tell us!”
“I didn’t have to!” You shouted as tears formed in your eyes. Your mother closed her mouth, but her eyes were right back on Jack. Your dad also stared him down, but Jack doesn't move or flinch. His posture is rigid, unwavering under their intense gaze.
“This isn’t okay.” Your mother whispered.
“Do you understand how this looks?” Your father added. You shake your head.
“I don’t care how it looks.”
“You should,” Your mother spat.
“I don’t.” You replied. The tension tightened again as your mother now stared at you behind Jack.
“How dare you take advantage of my-”
“She’s not being taken advantage of.” Jack cut your mother off before she could finish that sentence.
“You don’t get to decide that.” She replied,
“Neither do you,” Jack replied in the same beat. Your father stepped between your mother and Jack.
“That’s enough.” He said, holding his hands up. You sniffled and finally looked at Jack.
“Please just go.” You whispered. Jack understood that it was for him. He went to his pile of clothes and disappeared from the bedroom. You don’t let out a breath of air until you hear the front door close. Your parents let you dress, and you drag out the time hoping they would get the hint and leave, but they wouldn't be your parents if they did that. You knew you had to face them, so you shuffled out of your room ready for war.
“What the hell was that?” Your mother paced in the kitchen as you walked towards the coffee machine.
“You walked into my apartment, my room, unannounced?” You replied, grabbing a mug from the cabinet.
“You’re sleeping with a man twice your age. You gave us the keys to your apartment. We wanted to surprise you for your birthday.” Your mother replied, crossing her arms. Your father leaned on the counter, watching the scene unfold.
“Don’t turn this around on us. How old is he, huh?” Your father asked.
“49.”
“Jesus Christ… He is 5 years younger than us. Are you out of your mind? No, is he out of his mind? Does he have kids your age?”
“He’s not a random guy! He is a doctor and-”
“And that’s supposed to make it better?”
“How long?” Your father asked right after your mother. You felt like you were being interrogated, and you slowly crumbled under their scrutiny.
“Over a year.”
Silence. Your mother covered her mouth, trying to suppress laughter.
“You wanted her to be independent. Look where she is now. Being a cheap whore for some man that is old enough to be her fucking father who is married and-”
“He is widowed!” You snapped, slamming the mug down, breaking it. Your father was quickly at your side, rushing you to the sink. You watched the blood from the small cut run down with the water.
“Sweetheart, where is your first aid kit?”He asked, washing the cut off. You snatched away from him, wrapping a hand towel around it. Your mother started picking up the pieces of the mug.
“I’m almost 30 years old. I have a medical degree. I treat patients every day-”
“Ad that means you can’t make a mistake?” Your mother questioned.
“This isn’t a mistake.”
“If it costs you everything you’ve worked for.” Your father replied. Your chest tightened, and you squeezed the cloth around your hand. Your father looked under the sink and found your first aid kit.
“He’s not costing me anything.”
“He already is. You hid him. You’re lying by omission. What happens when this gets out? Your job? Your reputation?” Your mother watched as your father carefully cleaned the cut and bandaged it.
“He’s not my supervisor! We don’t even work in the same hospital setting. He-”
“That doesn't matter. You’re brand new to this city. You’re both in the medical field. Same system. People talk. This is your first role in a leadership position. People will start questioning how someone so young was able to get it over seasoned professionals.”
“Jesus Christ, Mom.. I’m fucking smart! I worked hard to get here just like you both raised me to do!”
“We know that, but people on the outside don’t.” Your father tried to explain your mother’s reasoning. You shook your head and walked away from him.
“I don't care what people think.”
“You will. When people start questioning your decisions and credentials.” Your mother sighed. You rubbed your temples. Your parents have been overbearing and protective since you were a child. You’re used to it, but this crossed the line.
“You don’t know anything about him.” You mumbled.
“We know enough.”Your mother immediately replied. You shook your head in disbelief.
“You know his age. That's it.”
“And the fact that he still wears a wedding ring,” Your mother added. Your eyes flickered towards your father and back to your mother.
“That’s not what you think it is.”
“Oh, then explain it. I’m dying to know.”Your mother placed her hands on the counter, waiting for you. But you can’t. She knows you can’t. Because you can’t fully explain it yourself.
“He lost his wife five years ago.”
“And he’s still not over it.”
“That doesn’t mean-”
“It means he's not available, sweetheart.” This time, your father steps in, tone softer as he looks over you. You chewed on your lip, not wanting to meet their eyes.
“I’m not asking him to be anything other than what he is.”
“That’s the problem. You’re settling for less.” Your mother’s voice has toned down on the anger, replaced with concern.
“I’m not. I want something simple, not complicated, and not something my parents chose for me. I’m an adult! I choose him.” You replied this time, eyes meeting theirs.
“Why?” Your father asked.
“Because he’s good to me. Because he respects me. Because he doesn’t treat me like I need to be managed or-or-”
“Protected?” Your mother interjected. You nodded.
“We’re trying to protect you.” She walked over and held your hands. You snatched away.
“You should’ve protected my brother. Maybe he would still be here.” You knew that would cut dep. Your mother looked away, and the room was swallowed by silence.
“We did our best with him. Do not sit here and point your finger at us. He made his life choices.”
“You gave up on him when he no longer fit in your box….You guys should leave. And leave your keys on the counter.” You mumbled, walking towards your bedroom.
Jack places the key to your apartment on the counter. Your apartment. His apartment. They both seem empty without your laughter, your awful shower singing, and your 5 a.m. yoga sessions. He came over here to water your plants, but the thought of you not being here breaks him. You’re fighting for your life in his hospital, and there isn't a damn thing he can do. He can’t even be at your bedside. It’s sick. Your bed is still unmade from the night you left. He can’t bring himself to touch it. Everything is so out of control, he doesn’t know how to grapple with reality anymore. Jack walks into your bedroom, picks up the clothes from the floor, stuffs them into your basket, and proceeds to do your laundry. The bed remains untouched. As much as it kills him to want to make it. He can't be because that is the last memory of the two of you when life was good. He washes your clothes, folds them, and puts them away neatly in their respective places. Jack leans against the dresser, staring at the unkempt bed. He decides to step out, shower, and change out of his work clothes.
An hour later, he returns, and the second he crosses the threshold, something is off. Your couch blanket has been neatly folded, and the bedroom door is open. He walks into your bedroom and finds the bed made. Fresh Sheets, fresh blankets, and everything tucked neatly on the king-sized bed. There’s no trace of you left. The little bit of sanity he was holding on to snaps. His stomach drops. His eyes land on your mother as she folds up the old sheets. She looks up at him, neither speaking because they both understand what this is. A line crossed or maybe erased.
“You changed them,” Jack whispers.
“They needed to be washed.” She walks by him, putting the clean sheets in a basket. Jack stares at your bed. It looks untouched, as if no one ever slept there. Like you were never there.
“She liked those sheets.” He replies. Your mother’s expression shifts slightly.
“She will have clean ones when she comes home.” She replies, walking back over to the bed to fluff the pillows.
“You need to stay away from her.”
Here we go. Jack rubs the bridge of his nose.
“She’s unconscious. I’m not exactly overwhelming either.”
Your other cuts her eyes at him before sitting on the bed. Jack holds himself back from telling her to get off the bed and out of their apartment. Their. Right, he practically lives here. Your mother can see parts of him throughout the apartment, and it kills her.
“She’s vulnerable right now. And when she wakes up, she’s going to be overwhelmed, emotional, dependent-”
“She’s not weak.” Jack cuts her off.
“I didn’t say she was.”
“But you’re treating her like she can’t make her own decisions.”
“I’m treating her like someone who almost died.” She snaps. Jack remains quiet as your mother takes a deep breath.
“She’s pregnant and now tied to you permanently.” Your mother shakes her head, a sad chuckle escaping her.
“She’s carrying a baby during a catastrophic accident, and she hasn’t even had the chance to decide what she wants yet.”
“She wanted the baby.”
“You don’t know that.”
“She told EMS. That was her only concern before she lost consciousness.” Jack replies more calmly.
“She was scared.”
“So was I,” Jack admits. This is the first time he has openly put words to the turmoil in his head. Your mother's expression softens, but only for a fraction of a second.
“You’re twenty years older than her. You’ve lived an entire life before she even met you. You’re still grieving your wife.” Your mother stands and faces Jack. His jaw tightens. These are facts. There is nothing he can refute.
“And now my only child left, my daughter, my baby girl, has to wake up into this madness.” Your mother’s voice cracks, and Jack has to look away, focusing on the snow falling outside.
“She has to wake up to this! A body she doesn’t recognize, months of recovery, a baby, a man who still wears another woman's ring. She deserves better. If you care about her, you would at least give her the respect she deserves.” Your mother grabs her purse and walks out of the bedroom.
That night, Jack returns to his apartment. He sits in the dark, television muted, one lamp in the corner of the room on. He keeps checking his phone, expecting a call that never comes. He can’t sleep. Your mother’s words battle in his head. He hates that they got to him. By three in the morning, he’s made a decision. By 4 a.m., he regrets it. By 7, he’s clocking in for a shift running on zero hours of sleep and possibly making a shitty decision.
“You got your access revoked for the ICU unit,” Robby states, putting his hands in his pockets. Jack sips his coffee, not responding. It was his choice to distance hinself from that part. Your parents were never going to allow him to see you. Instead of torturing himself outside your room, he asked for the deactivation of his clearance for the ICU unit.
“When she wakes up, how do you think she will feel that you weren’t by her side?”
Jack doesn’t respond. Robby shakes his head. They were long-time friends, and Robby knew there was no talking Jack out of something so easily. The next few days became unbearable because of the distance. No more looks at you through the doors. No checking charts or lingering outside the waiting area. Nothing, just silence. Jack buries himself in work at the ED and with SWAT. Longer shifts, doubles. It goes on for two weeks. Everyone notices.
“You look like shit,” Shen says, kicking his feet up on the desk. Abbot looks over his glasses and smacks his feet down. An intern plops down next to Shen, watching the two interact.
“Appreciate the professionalism.”
“You’ve worked six days straight.”
“I’m aware.”
“You’re also glaring at a chest x-ray as if it pissed you off.” She says before sipping his drink loudly. Abbot takes his glasses off and glares at him.
“This is about the psychiatrist from the mobile crisis unit, right? The one that was involved in that car crash by the commissioner's son, right?” The intern jumps in. Abbot glares at him. Shen shrugs.
“People talk.” The intern blushes. Abbot rolls his eyes as Shen nods.
“My roommate did an internship with her. The whole unit is really taking it hard.” He continues. Abbot sighs, hoping the younger male will take the hint.
“You should go home.” Shen juo sin.
“I am home.”
“No. You’re hiding.”
“I’m working.”
“You’re punishing yourself.”
“God, you sound like Robby. I made a decision.” Abbot shakes his head and stands stretching.
“And you look miserable because of it,” Ellis says, leaning on the counter, appearing out of nowhere. Shen and the inten nod in agreement. Abbot shakes it off and walks away.
“For what it’s worth, if she wakes up asking for you and finds out you disappeared, that’s gonna hurt too,” Ellis calls after him. Abbot stops and turns towards the trio.
“Did Robby pay you to say that?”
“Robby is paying us to say things? I call next!” Shen shouts. Abbot shakes his head and walks away. And the weeks drain on like a sad loop on repeat for him. Jack sits up in his car, wiping his eyes as the bar door opens. He watches as the man who ruined his life stumbles out, searching his pocket for his keys. Drunk again. Since Jack was forced to take breaks, he dedicated those days to following the commissioner's alcoholic son, who left you in a ditch to die. Nothing was done to him. No arrest. No rehab. The piece of shit went on drinking as soon as he was released from the hospital. While Jack’s life was spiraling, this man was prancing around. Jack got out of his car and approached him. He grabbed his jacket and slammed him onto the hood of the car.
“Hey, hey man, be cool!” The guy shouted.
“You don't even care. You almost killed her, and you don’t care!” Jack shouted, raising his fist ready to strike.
“Who? Who Dude I don’t even know what you’re talking about! Is it your ex? She came on to me!”
Jack swung down and punched the car's hood repeatedly.
“Jack! Jack!” Leila shouts, grabbing him and pulling him away. Jack turns around, eyes blazing over. The man scrurries to get his keys, but Jack is faster and snatches them.
“Walk home or call an Uber, you piece of shit!” He shouts. The man runs away, stumbling over his feet, screaming about his father. Jack throws the keys into the woods behind the bar. Leila sighs.
“How did you find me?”
“I followed you following him. Here, let's go to the apartment and talk.” Leila motions towards the cars. Back at your apartment, Leila walks around your living room, stopping on a photo of you and Jack. She picks it up, smiling.
“Do you have photos of you guys in your apartment?” She asks, putting the frame back down.
“I don’t have any photos in my place.”
“Oh.” Leila walks towards the kitchen to get a glass of water. Jack stands near the counter, tracking her movements. He’s stayed away like your parents wanted. Did they send your best friend in there to nail his coffin and further drive him away? Leila opens her purse and slides the sonogram images towards him. Jack stands up straight, and his eyes gloss over the tiny fetus.
“She woke up last week.”
“What?” Jack puts his attention back on Leila.
“Briefly. She was confused. In and out. She seems to be coming around slowly. Her belly is so cute.” Leila wipes her eyes.
“That’s good. Her parents must be happy.”
“They are. Already talking about moving her back home.”
“Of course they are.” Jack focuses on the sonogram.
“You haven’t asked if she’s asked about you.”
“She just woke up. I’m sure she is processing everything slowly. I don’t want to overwhelm her.”
Leila nods. “She asked for you today. I’ll be with her in the morning. Go see her.”
“A few weeks ago, you were on the same page with her parents. What happened?”
“My best friend woke up. The first things she asked were “Where the hell am I?, Is my baby okay, and where is my baby daddy?” Leila laughs. Jack nods, chuckling. That sounds like you.
“You love each other. It doesn’t matter what her parents say. She deserves to have her own happiness of her choosing. She chose you.” She smiles. Jack traces his fingertip over the sonogram.
You sit up in bed, staring at the stiff sheets as you rub your belly. The door opens, and your smile widens.
“Jack!”
“Hello, angel.” He replies walking in with flowers and a SpongeBob stuffed toy.
I’m most excited to write about Dad! Jack Abbot! Not proofread just winging it you know! 😭💛 enjoy!
Summary: Jack Abbot, a seasoned emergency physician, marked by war, loss, and quiet routine, crosses paths with a younger psychiatrist who refuses to fit neatly into his carefully controlled world. What begins as a private, complicated connection becomes impossible to keep hidden when their lives collide under unexpected circumstances.
content warning: age gap (reader late 20s, Jack late 40s.), friends with benefits, no established relationship, hospital setting, car accident, no use of y/n, smut, angst, oral (f&m receiving), protected sex
A/N: hiiii my mind has been filled with Abbot and Pope so I’ll be writing for them for the foreseeable future! WC; 7k
You place your tea mug on your desk, peering over your glasses at the lump under your blankets. The chalet alarm blares, breaking the silence in your one-bedroom apartment. An arm slaps around on the nightstand until it finds the source of the sound. A groan comes from the mass of blankets before the alarm stops, and Jack sits up. Jack Abbott, the man who has been occupying your bed for 1.5 years. Your person? Neither of you has said the words or made things official; instead, you both find safety in routine. You put your glasses on the desk and run over, jumping into bed. He smirks and lazily pulls you into a hug. You pepper his chin with kisses, and he yawns.
“Fuck, I’m tired.” He laughs. You quickly maneuver yourself onto his lap. Jack stares up at you, holding your hips.
“Well, the day is ending for normal people and just starting for you.” You kiss his scuffy beard before leaning back. Jack smiles up at you.
“As much as I would love to give you the attention it craves,” He looks down between the two of you, where his cock is already fully erect. He cups your face and rubs your bottom lip with his thumb.
“I promised Robby I would come in a little earlier.” He whispers against your lips. You lean further into the kiss, ignoring his comments. Jack groans as you begin to stroke him. His alarm goes off again, and you pull back from the kiss, smiling. He grabs his phone, and you get off his lap.
“I’m sure this Robby guy would be okay with you showing up on time for your shift and not a minute earlier, especially if he knew the special things we would be getting into. I think your friends would appreciate you having some enjoyment in your life.” You smirk. After putting on his prosthetic, he bends over to kiss you before walking to the bathroom. You return to your desk to finish up client notes. Jack emerges from the bathroom, shirtless, dressed in his scrub bottoms. You close your laptop, bite your lip, and scan his body.
“Eyes up here, angel.” He jokes. You lean on your desk, smiling as he walks over, bending to give you his heart-melting kiss. He pulls back, giving you small pecks before walking to the nightstand. You watch him slip on his wedding ring, and your smile slips. You open your laptop and return to the documentation. Jack makes comments, but you only hum and nod. He kisses your forehead and leaves you to your work.
“He has a girlfriend. I’m telling you.” Mateo whispers from behind the counter as Abbot checks his phone for the 4th time that hour. He shakes his head and returns to a patient. Ellis chuckles and shakes her head.
“I bet you $5 its one of his crazy endeavors.” Shen places the money on the counter. Matoe digs in his pocket, slamming a 5 down as well. Robby briefly hears the conversation and shakes his head, walking towards room 17.
“I don’t need dinner. I’m fine and-”
“I’m already on the way. Are you really going to turn me away? It’s 15 degrees out. I made you dinner, and I am bringing it to you.” You argue back. Jack sighs and rubs the phone on his temple.
“It’s almost midnight.”
“Jack.”
“Okay. Come to the ambulance bay.”
“Are you embarrassed by me? I’ve never met your friends. You’ve met mine.”
“They’re my coworkers, not friends,” Jack replies.
“They’re the only people you talk about or hang out with besides your old military buddies. And I haven’t even met them, so it seems like you’re fucking hiding me! I’m not-”
“Angel….I have to go. I’ll see you in a bit.” He replies, hanging up. When he turns, Robby stands there grinning.
“What the fuck are you still doing here?” Abbot says, shaking his head.
“Was coming to say goodbye, but I see you are tied up in something.” He smirks. Abbot shakes his head. Mateo opens the door to let him know he’s needed. Abbot thanks the heavens he doesn’t have to hear Robby’s questions.
You do not park at the ambulance bay; instead, you park in the visiting parking lot and walk to the front entrance. You hold the cute, bright pink lunch bag on your shoulder and walk inside. It’s pretty calm, so you’re able to get to the front quickly and let the receptionist know you are here to drop off lunch.
“Jack Abbot? Like Dr.Abbot in the ED?” She smirks. You remove your heart-shaped earmuffs and nod. Did she not hear you or what?
“Yes? I brought him dinner.” You smile and nod.
“Are you his chil-”
“I will page him.” The other receptionist hits her and turns to get him. You smile and step back, letting the next patient in. The doors opened, and you’re motioned back. You follow the receptionist on the other side of the door, and you spot Jack talking to a nurse. When his eyes follow you, it takes him a second to register. His eyes double in size, and he quickly walks over. He smiles and pulls you into a private room.
“Baby, I told you-”
“I know what you said. But I have no idea where the ambulance bay is.” You lie. Jack rubs the bridge of his nose. He takes the lunch bag and places it on the table. You made him spaghetti and garlic bread. His favorite. He was a simple man after all. You sit on a chair watching as he sits and eats quietly.
“Is it our age difference that bothers you?” You whisper, eyes glance over the tiles on the floor. Jack wipes his mouth and places the tupperware on the table. He reaches over and grabs the leg of your chair, pulling you over.
“I just like to keep my life separate from work. It’s complicated.” He rubs your thigh, and you stand up.
“You still wear your wedding ring. I’ve not met your friends. You’ve met my parents for God's sake!” You say as frustration grows.
“Meeting your parents was an accident, and newsflash, they fucking hate me because I’m 20 fucking years older than you and 5 years younger than them.”
“So it is my age?”
“It’s-”
“Sorry, Doc, there’s an emergency,” a curly-haired guy says, opening the door. Jack gives you his stupid, sad puppy eyes, and you cross your arms, sitting down. He leaves, and the curly-haired guy opens his mouth, but Abbot grabs him, shutting the door. Mateo wears a goofy grin as he leads Abbot to the room where a man has a knife in his chest.
Abott takes off the bloody gloves, washes his hands, and makes his way to you, but Shen and Mateo corner him.
“Who's the hot young piece of as-”
“Don’t finish that sentence if you want to keep your teeth,” Abbot warns. Shen zips his lips. Mateo laughs.
“Well? Who is she?”
“My neighbor.” Abbot tries to walk around the duo, but they stop him.
“My “neighbor” has never brought me dinner during my shift. Who is she? Your girlfriend?” Mateo asks using a quotation. Abbot shakes his head.
“No. What?”
“How old is she?” Shen asks. Abbot walks to an empty room, his hands running through his hair.
“She is 29. We’ve been seeing each other for almost 2 years.”
“Dude……nice,” Shen adds. Abbot shakes his head.
“She’s pissed at me. I don’t know what I’m doing here.”
“Well, she is out of your league for one, do you see the size of-”
Mateo elbows Shen.
“Have you asked her to be your girlfriend?”
“No. I didn’t think you guys did that anymore. It’s all hook-ups and-”
“How often is she at your apartment and vice versa?” Mateo asks, sitting on a bed. Abbot scratches his eyebrow.
“I sleep at her place when I can sleep. She sleeps at my place too,” He replies, scratching his neck.
“Do you have clothes at her place? Toothbrush? Keys? Have you met her friends?”
“Yes to all of it….and her parents.” He mumbles. Shen whisles.
“That’s your girlfriend…..Why are you still wearing your ring, though?”
Abbot stares down at his ring. It’s a bad habit. The ring was a reminder of his life before it went to shit. He takes it off when you guys have sex out of respect, but to part with it completely, it’s something that hasn’t worked up to yet. He stares up at the ceiling.
“Idk your feelings for her, but you need to figure it out before things get too deep and you end up really hurting her.” Mateo stands and pats Abbot on the back as a nurse comes in for another emergency.
You wipe your eyes and look at the time on your phone. It’s after midnight now. This was a stupid idea, and you're partially embarrassed. You should go. This was stupid. It was such a bad idea. You rush, throwing everything into the lunchbox and out of the room, back to the front, and to your car. You throw the lunchbox in there, wiping your tears, and call Jack.
“I’m sorry. I really am. My emotions are all over the place. I can explain, but I just-i’m sorry. I am rambling. I’m going to my place, we can talk in the morning. Again, I apologize.” You hang up after leaving that pathetic voicemail and start your car up. Great. It’s fucking snowing.
It seems like after you left, shit hit the fan. Abbot wasn’t able to get a break and try to call you or listen to your voicemail. By the time things calmed down a bit, it was 6 am. He listened to your message, and it felt like a gut punch. He dialed but got your voicemail. You should be up getting ready for work. He tries again and gets another voicemail.
“Our guy in room 8 is up a little groggy, but he’s good,” Mateo says, walking into the room. Abbott scratches his head. He quickly sends a text. The delivered does not pop up. He calls you again. Most of the day crew starts straggling in as he redials your number.
“Hi, it’s me. I’m-”
What the fuck? Voicemail again. You should be up and ready for work. Something was off. Something wasn't right. When he called, you answered him no matter what. Even if the two of you were mad at each other, you answered the calls. It was your one request. He sighs and steps out of the room.
“Incoming trauma, female, late twenties, MVA, found in a ditch, unknown downtime, Hypothermic. Multiple injuries ETA two minutes.” Dana shouts. Abbot rubs his eyes, slipping his phone back into his pocket.
“Trauma two. Let’s get warm fluids. I want Core Temp as soon as she gets in.” He shouts out as Robby puts his bag behind the nurse's station. The two give a quick nod and prepare for the incoming patient. The team starts moving immediately. Controlled chaos, that’s what Abbot was used to. You were unpredictable, and it pulled at his heartstrings. The doors burst open, pulling in the cold air with the gurney. The patient in room 8 hops out of his bed and toward his door, watching just as the ambulance doors swing open.
“Found unresponsive, vehicle totaled and flipped, down an embankment. No witness. She was outside the car when we got there.”
“Vitals?” Abbot asks.
“Bradycardic. Core temp reading is low. We couldn’t get an accurate reading.”
Abbott’s eyes quickly scan over the woman in front of him. Her clothes were soaked with blood, water, debris from the vehicle, and her hair-
“Oh fuck she’s okay? She’s alive?” The man shouts from room 8. A nurse helps him back to bed.
Abbot stops in his tracks as the team works around him. It wasn't obvious at first because he wasn’t looking. A small flicker of familiarity, and his brain began to fracture. Abbot’s hand reached, brushing against her wrist that was far too cold. No. Everyone kept moving around him, but he was stuck. You. It was you. Abbot, watch as they cut away your clothing. Your stupid SpongeBob shirt is cut off and falling to the floor, pants cut away like nothing. Bruises and blood lined your body, and it took everything in Abbott to hold down the rising bile.
“Dr.Abbot!” A nurse calls, breaking him from the trance as they wheel your body away to the trauma room.
“That can’t be…That-” Abbot fumbles over his words as he makes his way into the room. Robby is quickly working on you and notices Mateo, who steps in front of Abbot. Abbot shoves him away and starts giving orders. Robby stops what he is doing and pulls Abbott away from your body.
“You need to step back.”
“I’m fine,” he replies, trying to step around. Robby pushes him.
“She has a team, Jack. Get out now,” Robby warns him. Abbot’s eyes drift over your body as they work around you.
“I have to. She needs me-”
“You can’t be on this case. Go. Mateo.” Robby calls. Mateo guides Abbot out of the room. The doors close with a final thud, the chaos behind them being silenced. Abbot stands at the doors watching them, listening to them.
“BP’s dropping!
“Core temp 31 and falling.”
Abbot’s heart drops to his stomach. Your hand lay limp, unmoving. His eyes dart to your wrist. That stupid fucking SpongeBob bracelet you asked him for. It was so childish, but it meant something to you. You and that stupid show. Jack hated it when you put that on before bed. But it was your safe space. Abbot snaps out of it as you begin to crash. He steps back, slowly stepping out of doctor mode. It was protocol. He stood by the nurses' station watching trauma room 2. His brain refused to shut off as he tracked everyone’s movement in that room.
“EMS thinks she was out there for possibly a couple of hours. Guy in 8 might know her. A nurse says in passing. Abbot clenches his jaw. Mateo tries to grab his arm, but he’s quick. He pulls back the curtains of room 8. The man sits up.
“You piece of shit! You left her out there!” Abbot shouts, walking around the bed. He grabs the guy's gown.
“I tried. I pulled her out of the car! I thought she was dead. I was scared.”
“So you fucking left her there without calling 911? Huh, you piece of shit!” Abbot raises his fist, but Mateo and Langdon grab him. Dana is in the room before anything escalates further. Abbot stands at the nurse's desk, shaking with anger. The thought of you alone, crying and hurt. Did you ask for him? Were you conscious that whole time?
“She was conscious when we arrived. Confused but responsive for a min.” One of the EMS states that it is answering his unspoken question.
“Must have been a gnarly scene. What did she say?” A nurse asks. Abbot tries not to eavesdrop and focus on your room.
“First thing out of her mouth was baby. Thought there might be a baby in the car. Nope. She then said she was pregnant. Kept repeating it. She’s 3 months pregnant.” The EMS whispers as they fill out paperwork. Pregnant? Abbot almost bucks over. Your voicemail about explaining. Was it that? The arguments. The clinginess. Abbot walks towards the room. He has to be there for you. For both of you.
“No fetal cardiac activity detected,” Mel shouts. Mateo pulls him out of the room.
“Let them work,” Shen states. Abbot walks to the waiting area and sits. The door opens to Dr. Al-Hashimi.
“Is there anyone we can contact for her?” She asks, taking a seat. Abbot is quiet.
“Her parents. Let me make the call.”
“We can have a social worker or-”
“I got it. I want to be useful.” He mumbles, pulling out his phone. You had saved your mother’s number in his phone a few months ago. Dr.Al-Hashimi leaves, and he sighs, dialing your mom. It rings once. Twice. Three times.
“Hello?” Your mother’s voice breaks through. Jack sighs.
“Mrs-”
“Why are you calling me?” She cuts in, recognizing his voice.
“Yes, umm, this is Dr.Abbot from the emergency department.” Jack clarifies. The line is already quiet, with tension.
“Where is she?” Your mother asks with no warmth in her voice, just suspicion. Jack pulls the phone away from his ear and swallows. Into the warzone he goes.
“She’s been brought in after a motor vehicle accident. She’s currently being treated.”
The line goes quiet, then Jack hears what sounds like rustling of papers, then the sound of your mother’s choked cry.
“How bad?” She sniffles. Jack stands up and begins to pace.
“She’s critically injured. We’re stabilizing her now.” He replies. Silence again. It cuts deep into him now. He has said these lines a 1000 times to the patients' families, it doesn’t hurt less, but in this moment, it feels like his heart is slowly crushing in on itself.
“Why are you calling me?” Her voice is sharp with anger. There it is. The big fuck you he was waiting for.
“I’m the attending physician on shift.” He replies. It wasn’t a complete lie.
“Put someone else on the phone.” She snaps.
“They are actively working on her. I can answer your questions-”
“I don’t want you answering anything. You shouldn’t even be anywhere near her!” She spits. Jack clears his throat. He knows. He has heard it a million times.
“This isn’t about me. Your daughter is in critical condition. You and your husband need to come to the hospital in case a decision needs to be made.”
“Oh god….Is she alive?
Jack pulls the phone from his ear, trying to compose himself.
“They’re working on her.” He replies. The link goes silent before the call ends. Jack nearly throws his phone, but the door opens to Dr.Mohan. Jack takes a seat, and she sits next to him quietly in the overly bright room with stained carpet and the smell of hand sanitizer. Samira is the link between the two of you. Friends from the book club you run, and the only one in the department who knows about the two of you. Samira reaches out and squeezes his hand. A small gesture reassuring him. Jack stands and starts pacing. Samira leaves to attend to other patients. Jack doesn’t know how long he has paced in the room, but soon the door opens to your parents. He freezes and clears his throat. He can’t look at your mother. You’re a spitting image of her.
“You,” Your mother says, eyes on him, full of fury. Your father stands behind her, jaw clenching as he watches Jack.
“I’m here,” Jack whispers, his voice steady even though it feels like it doesn't belong to him. Your mother rolls her eyes.
“Of course you are. They’re not giving us an update.” She states, sitting down.
“Is she alive?” Your father asks.
“Yes. She’s alive.”
“What happened?” Your mother almost demands.
“She was involved in an accident. She was found outside the vehicle. We’re treating her for hypothermia and multiple-”
“And you were there?” Your mother cuts him off.
“I’m on shift.” He replies, placing his hands on his hips. Your father steps closer, neither aggressive nor neutral. The tension is building.
“You called us. Why you?” Your mother asks.
“Because I was the physician who-”
“No. No, that’s not what I’m asking.” Her tone is sharper and her hands ball into fists. The waiting room feels smaller now.
“You don’t get to be the one standing here.” She whispers in a tight voice. “You don’t get to be the one telling us anything.”
A nurse walks in, and your mother stands.
“My daughter? How is she?”
“She’s critical, and they are doing everything they can.” The nurse replies. She looks at Jack, who looks like a caged animal.
“Where’s the doctor in charge?”
“I am,” Jack replies. Your dad turns to him and looks back at the nurse. She nods.
“You shouldn’t be anywhere near her case.” Your mother snaps, turning towards him.
“I’m not. Another attending is leading her care.” Jack corrects. Your mother opens her mouth, but Robby steps in, introducing himself. Jack excuses himself, but before leaving, your mother gives him a warning.
“If anything happens to her…”
Jack closes the door behind him and exits. He’s on the outside again. He stands near the nurses' station, zoning out to all sounds around him. 5 mins later, your mom is closing the distance between them fast.
“You piece of shit! You knew!” She shouts. Your father steps in before your mother can lay a hand on Jack.
“I-” Jack can’t find the right words and stops himself.
“You knew and didn’t say anything?”
“I just found out.” Jack clarifies, awakrdly scratching his neck. This is not a conversation he wants to have out in the open. Your father shakes his head in disbelief.
“She didn’t tell us about the pregnancy. That should tell you something.” He adds. Jack clears his throat.
“It tells me she hadn't decided what to do yet,” Jack replies as Dana glances at him and nods to the waiting room.
“It tells me she didn’t trust you enough to tell you either.” Your mother spits back. Her eyes drift to the ring on his finger, which he plays with. Jack stops and hides his hand like a child who has been scolded. Jack walks away before the conversation can escalate into a no-turning-back danger zone. Jack returns to the waiting room and sits down. Was this his fault? You wouldn’t have been out on the road if it weren’t for him. The day you guys met should have been the only time you cross paths….
You tried your best to hold onto the several grocery bags, but it was becoming too much. A man entered the elevator and quickly helped you. He took all the bags, and you thanked him. He looked crushed, so you pressed your number and asked for his floor.
“I’ll help you with your bags,” He mumbled. The elevator chimed as it reached floor 5. You exited, and he followed you to your apartment. He put your bags on the floor.
“You’re not a psycho killer, right?” You joked.
“Do you normally allow men to follow you home under the pretense of helping you carry bags?” He asked with a tilt of his head. You couldn’t help but giggle.
“Only when they’re attractive.”
“Oh wow.” He laughed. He stuffed his hands into his pants, and that’s when you noticed his scubs.
“Coming off of night shift?” You asked. He nodded. You unlocked your door and picked up some bags, with him following you in. Your place was still unpacked, even though you moved in 3 weeks ago. He set your bags on the counter.
“Just moved in?”
“Uhhh, officially today, yeah. I was still at my old place, so I haven’t had time to unpack.”
He nodded his head and left without another word. You chuckled, thinking how that could have gone terribly wrong. The next day, you finally started to unpack and explore the city a bit more. You will start your new job as a crisis psychiatrist on Monday. You decided on a jog to loosen up. While locking your door, you noticed that the stranger who helped you was locking his door as well. Neighbors. Nice.
“Hey, stranger.”
“Hey.” He grumbled. He had bags under his eyes and looked a little disheveled. You both headed to the elvarotr and waited quietly. You didn’t know how to approach a conversation, so you remained quiet. He let you in the elevator first and followed. You pressed one and turned to him.
“Why didn’t you tell me we were neighbors?” You asked playfully.
“I didn’t know if you were a psycho killer.” He smirked. Fuck he was cute. You step back to take in his appearance. His grey curls and wrinkles indicated that he was much older than you, but Jesus, he was really good-looking. You put your headphones in and smiled to yourself as you exited the elevator. Unexpectedly, you would cross paths again and again and again. This time, you wanted to really get into a conversation. You leaned against the wall as he locked up his apartment. You're coming, he's going.
“I thought you were a doctor or nurse. Why do you always look like you got off a shift from hell?” You asked, leaning against the wall. He chuckled.
“It depends on the day.” He joked, stopping in front of you. He crossed his arms in front of his chest, and you bit your lip, staring at the veins. He nodded towards your apartment.
“Unpacked?” He asked. You nodded and introduced yourself properly.
“I’m Jack. I have to head out, but I will see you around, neighbor.” He smiled. You watched him walk away before retreating into your apartment. Jack stood in the elevator, thoughts running a mile a min. He was going on 48 hours of no sleep, clearly losing his mind in the way he was staring at you tonight. You had to be in your 20s, and he has not stopped thinking about you since the first interaction. Control yourself,Abbot. he reminded himself. When the weekend came, Jack found you at your door fumbling with your keys. You were wearing a short red latex dress with a small slit over your right thigh. He damn near groaned at the sight. You turned your head, and that is when he noticed the tears streaming down your face.
“Hey? Hey, you okay?” He walked. You mumbled something, shaking your head. Jack was at your side and unlocked your door. Jack opened your door and helped you inside. You plopped down on the couch and buried your face in your hands. Jack stood near you awkwardly, waiting for the okay to move. You sniffled and wiped your eyes. You knew you must have looked a mess. Make-up running down your face. You wiped your nose.
“Bad date?” He tried to lighten the mood. You chuckled.
“I wish. It’s the anniversary of my brother’s death. I went out with friends and thought I could handle hanging out tonight, but it all came crashing down, so I left.” You stood up and smoothed out your dress. Jack couldn’t help but scan your body. He cleared his throat and looked away, which made you smile.
“I can go if you want to be alone.”
“I don’t want to be alone. I’d like to change and have company if you’re up to it?” You whispered. He nodded and took a seat as you walked away. You changed into shorts and a SpongeBob shirt. You sat on the couch, knees against your chest, staring at the man across from you. He sat with an upright posture, and his expression bordered on serious and curious. Your eyes drifted down to his hands, closed in his lap. The ring caught your eye.
“Are you married?”
He played with the ring.
“Widowed.”
“I’m sorry.” You replied, looking away. He nodded.
“My brother was my best friend. It’s been two years without him. I thought I would be okay today, but it hit me hard. They say it gets easier, but I feel like I’m stuck in this loop.” You buried your face in your knees. Jack moved closer.
“It isn’t about getting easier. You live with it.” He whispered, placing a hand on your back. You turned your head to the right, resting your cheek on your knee.
“How long?”
“She passed away 3 years ago. I still wear my ring, as you can see. I live with it.”
You nodded.
“I have to get to work, but I can check on you in the morning if you would like?” He asked. You nodded, smiling. Sure enough, Jack checked on you after his shift. And from that point forward, the two of you shared small moments as you got to know each other. He told you about his job and his side job, which you strongly disapproved of. You sat across from him, watching him eat your spaghetti. Jack was telling you about his shift from Hell, and you couldn’t help but fall into every word he said. You reached your foot out and ran it up his leg. Jack put his fork down. You were done playing games, and you wanted him. He picked up his water and took a sip as your leg went up further. He grabbed your ankle and placed the glass on the table. You pulled back and stood up, walking over to sit on his lap. Jack stared up at you, swallowing hard.
“Do you want to touch me, Jack?” You whispered, running your hands through his curls. Jack was silent. He immediately put the line between you, but at this very moment, all that was going to go out the door. You were 20 years younger than him in a completely different place in life. He was a widower who hadn’t looked at another since his wife. You pull down the strap of your tank top, and his eyes follow. Your nipples peak through the white fabric. He sucked his bottom lip into his mouth. You pulled down the other strap, letting the shirt slide down, exposing your breast. Jack reached up and took your nipple between his fingers. He leaned in, eyes still on you, and you nodded. His lips rubbed against your left nipple before he opened his mouth, sucking on it. You sigh and run your hand through his hair, rocking your hips slowly. The line was quickly disappearing. His tongue circled your nipple, and you let out a moan. The line was gone. Jack pulled back to stare up at your eyes, glazed over.
“Do you want this?” He whispered. You nodded, leaned down, and pressed your lips against his. Jack picked you up, and you wrapped your legs around his waist as he carried you to your bedroom. You lay back on the bed as he helped you out of your shorts and shirt. Jack sat on his knees, staring down at your lacey underwear.
“Lift your hips.” He whispered. His raspy voice made you clench around nothing. You did as you were told as he peeled down. Jack lay on his stomach and spread your legs. He kissed up your legs every time his stubble brushed against your thighs, and you clenched greedily. Jack kissed between your legs. His tongue swirled around your clit, sending shockwaves through your system. He pushed a finger inside of you, and his sweet eyes darted up to your half-lidded ones.
“This okay?” He mumbled against your cunt. You nodded, begging for more. Jack inserted another finger, replacing his tongue. He sucked on your clit, causing your legs to close around his head. Your hands found rest in the sheets you pull, and you arch your back. He was a messy eater, and his name fell from your lips effortlessly. Your legs rested on his shoulders, your heels digging into his back. The familiar sensation letting you know you were close. He pulls away from your clit to stare up, watching you come undone.
“Give it to me, pretty girl.” He mumbled, going back to your clit. He used his tongue and fingers to fuck the orgasm out of you, making your toes curl. Your chest burned, your face was sweaty, and your body shook from the aftermath. Jack kissed your thighs and sat up, watching you. You could see the outline of his cock in his boxers. You reached over to your nightstand, grabbing a condom. Jack watched you rip it open. You crawled over and pulled his boxers down. You removed his dick and kissed the pink tip already leaking with precum. Your tongue swirled around the slit before inserting it into your mouth, inch by inch. You hollowed your cheeks and slurped, coming back to the tip.
“Good fucking girl,” Jack said, biting his bottom lip. Jack had to pull away from you because he wasn't too sure if he could hold back cumming. He took his boxers off and spread you out on the bed. You watched him slide on the condom.
“This is okay, right?” He asked. You smiled.
“Stop asking me and fuck me, Jack.” You giggled. He groaned and bent down to kiss you. Your nails dug into his back as he slid in. You don't know what you were expecting, but the stretch made your breath get caught in your throat. He distracted you enough with his mind-altering kissing. You couldn't think of anything else except his lips and tongue and how good he felt between your legs. Jack pulled away from the kiss, trying to keep it together, but he couldn't help but moan your name.
“Eyes on me, pretty girl.” He mumbled, snapping his hips. You pulled him down for another kiss.
“Feel so good. Oh god.” You cried out. Jack grabbed your legs, placing them on his shoulders, putting you in a mating press immediately, finding your G-spot. You choked and scratched his arms, his name becoming mixed with gibberish spilling from your lips. Jack felt himself losing control, but he would not let himself cum before you. He poudnied away at you, not caring about the wet nosie of your bodies, the creak of the bed, or the sounds spilling from your lips. He felt you tighten around his cock before you let out a silent cry and reach another orgasm.
“There you go. Good girl. Give it to me.” He mumbled. You dropped one leg off of him as he continued to fuck you through your orgasm, then his. He kissed your neck before pulling back and tossing the condom. That was the first of many rounds. You were a bit surprised at his stamina, but not that much, knowing his extracurricular activities. You woke up, wiped down, cleaned the bedroom and kitchen, but no Jack. Your best friend, Leila, came over around noon and stared at you. You couldn’t stop smiling, and you and Jack have been texting back and forth all day. He had to leave because he was called in, but he told you it was a good night.
“Omg….you fucked that old man,” Leila said. You slammed your phone down.
“Lei…he’s not that old.” You replied.
“Umm, he’s 20 years older than you. Be so for real. Tell me now!”
And you spilled details about how he was the best you’ve ever had and how fucking good he was with his tongue. She asked if he had any friends, and you told her you guys keep it very casual, so you’re unaware. Over the next few weeks, the two of you fall into hookups and early mornings together. He gets off work fucks you on whatever surface he can get you on the quickest, and you shower and rush to work. It was a habit you were getting used to. Then Jack met your friends, and things from that point on got more personal, without proper wording about where the relationship was going.
“Jack, you could totally be our DD.” Leila beamed. Jack was currently reading over documents sitting at your island while you and your friends were getting ready for a girls’ night out. The two of you have been in this situation for about 7 months now. Jack put his glasses on the counter and rubbed the bridge of his nose.
“What is DD?” He asked.
“Designated driver,” Maria shouted from the bathroom. Katie started laughing.
“You guys could Uber. That’s the rideshare thing, right?” Jacked replied, eyeing you from across the room. Leila grabbed your face and squeezed it.
“Trust me, if you see the little number this beauty is wearing, you’re not going to want her in a rideshare.” She smiled. You smacked her hand away and stood up. You crossed the room and stood between his legs. You rubbed his cheeks before pecking his lips.
“So what were the 80s like?” Leila asked, leaning on the counter.
You rolled your eyes and laughed as Jack and Leila started bickering. It was endearing how your friends and Jack got along. After the four of you were dressed, you stepped out of the room. Jack put his pen down. You were dressed in black latex pants with stitches up the sides. Your thong strings sat on your hips, and the tube top, which could barely be called that, left nothing to the imagination. Your friends were dressed the same, and Jack wiped the corner of his mouth and sighed.
“Don’t have a heart attack, gramps.” Leila laughed. Jack grabbed his keys.
“I’ll drive you guys. It’s freezing outside, by the way.”
“We’re going to sleep at Kate’s so you can drop us off there after.” You smiled, kissing his lips. He nodded. By the end of the night, all 4 of you were drunk, and it took Jack everything in his power to get all of you to the car buckled.
“Where keys?” Katie cried, standing at her door, shivering. Leila leaned against the door, shaking eyes barely open. Maria recorded them laughing.
“It’s so fucking cold. Please go see what’s taking them so long.” Katie cried bednign over.
“Jack! It’s cold, dude! Jaaaaaack!” Leila shouted. Jack came around the corner carrying you as Leila continued screaming his name.
”Shut up. Shut up.” He mumbled to Leila, setting you on your feet and using Katie’s keys to unlock the door. Jack scooped you back up as the girls trickled in, laughing. That was the first of many nights with your friends.
“Jack,” Leila enters the waiting room. He stands up, and they share a hug.
“How is she?” Leila asks, trying to keep her composure. He shakes his head.
“You’ll have to ask her parents. They won’t tell me anything so-”
“I’m sorry. They’re just looking out for her. You know how much they care.” She whispers, looking at the floor.
“I care about her too.”
“I’m not denying that. But…”
Jack places his hands on his hips, waiting for her to continue. Leila pushes her hair behind her ears.
“But her parents might be right about some things.”
“Jesus Christ, Leila, I don’t need this shit right now!” He snaps. She purses her lips together. Jack rubs his eyes.
“Did you know she was pregnant?” He asks the only person in this world besides you who would know why you hid your pregnancy. Leila can’t meet his eyes, which tells him everything he knew.
“Yes. She found out two weeks ago.”
“Two..Ha, two fucking weeks ago? When was she going to tell me?” Jack snaps. Leila stands up.
“She didn’t know how. She didn’t know where the relationship was going. She just needed time-”
“Time? She is through her first fucking trimester hw much time did she need to tell me? Me, the father of her child!”
“Jack….calm down. She has her reasons. You still wear your wedding ring. She knows no one in your life! You hid her like a curse.”
“She’s not…I don’t hide her. I-”
“You do. She didn’t think you wanted something more with her. She-”
“Leila, there you are.” Your mother walks into the room. They hug, and your mother glares at Jack. Jack excuses himself, making his way to the only place besides your apartment where he finds peace. The roof. Jack doesn’t know how long he has stood out there. He lost feeling in his face and hands a long time ago. A hand appears with a cup of coffee. Abbot takes it from Robby.
“How is she?” He asks.
“She is stable for now. We intubated and sedated, and her core temp is coming up slowly.” Robby responds, looking out to the city.
“What about her injuries?”
“Multiple fractures, nothing we can’t manage. The biggest concern right now is hypothermia and possible internal trauma. We’re monitoring closely. Robby explains. Abbott lets out a sigh. The question is lingering on Robby’s tongue; he knows. There are questions that Abbott isn’t ready to answer. Abbot nods, absorbing the information, not on the family side but on the doctor's side. He knows there is a chance you might crash. You could fucking die, and he would-
“And the pregnancy?” Abbot clears his throat, turning towards Robby. Robby lets the question linger, which makes Abbot’s chest tighten, preparing himself for heartbreak.
“We did a bedside ultrasound once she was stable enough. There is fetal cardiac activity.” Robby replies. Abbot stands there staring at him. He was preparing himself for the worst and was unable to process this news. Robby pats his shoulder.
“There’s a heartbeat,” Robby adds on.
“Okay,” Abbot replies. His voice is softer, and he doesn't recognize it.
“It’s early. About 12 weeks, like she told EMS. We can’t monitor it continuously at this stage, and with her condition. There's risk.”
“But right now?” Abbot asks.
“They are both holding on right now,” Robby confirms. Abbot lets the thoughts toss around in his brain. Both. He closes his eyes, letting everything sink in. This was real, you this baby he didn't even know about last night.
“I shouldn't be giving you this update. You know that.” Robby brings him back.
“I know. Thank you.”
They’re quiet again, drinking their coffees.
“Is she your?” Robby doesn’t know how to finish the sentence.
“My girlfriend. yeah.” Abbot clarifies. Robby hits his back and smiles.
“Get down there and support her like a boyfriend, then. Take off your scrubs and get out of doctor mode. Get fucking lucky with her parents.” He laughs. Jack smiles. He returns to the waiting area dressed in regular clothes. Your other three friends are here now, and each gives him a hug. Your parents sit in the corner, not making eye contact. Instinctively, Jack reaches for his ring to play with, but stops, remembering he put it in his locker. He folds his hands in his lap and puts his head down.
You picked a side, my brother, now we got to see it through🔥
Celebrating season 2 release with my favourite fictional twins! + a sneaky Lady because she's my fave O///O (I'll bingewatch it with my family tonight hehe)
Timelapse:⤵
So many thumbnails, so much inspo from See U In Hell aaa I need to draw them more often!
Also witness me having no idea what I'm doing 90% of this timelapse lmao
sweet girl who slept with craig once and waddles out of his room at smurf's wearing a random t-shirt she found in a clean clothes bin (popes) and a random pair of boxers (also popes).
stumbles out all wide-eyed into the living room where all of the boys are meeting and softly asks craig "do you wanna get breakfast with me?" :)
craig is so tempted to say yes, something he has absolutely never wanted to do before. but he's annoying and has an image to keep up, so he denies you. biting your lip all shy, a small mumble of "oh okay" as you ring your hands together. You sneak a quick peek at craig's handsome, unsettling older brother and give a tiny, embarrassed smile as you shuffle a bit, your scrunched socks (also popes) falling down a bit.
pope doesn't even know what possesses him when he stands.
"i'll-i'll go with you." outstretched hand and awkward tight lipped smile as he nods and walks toward you, jingling his truck keys in his pocket; not looking back.
needed something new instead of another reader being scared of smurf, like girl boo! you and that stale ass bob ain’t moving shit over here. would’ve told her to go fight her stylist over that lace cause it’s tired, delayed, and out of function.
summary: jack likes seeing you get all flustered when he stares into your eyes.
pairing: jack abbot x fem!reader
content warning(s): established relationship, flirting at work, neck kisses, jack grabs your ass, no use of y/n.
word count: 956
a/n: ok, this story was truly inspired by @ozarkthedog's gifset (here) of abbot making eyes at everyone and i couldn't get this thought outta my head bc of it. anyway, this isn't proofread and it was mainly for me to just get my thoughts out bc the way this man has in me a chokehold isn't even funny anymore lmao. hope y'all enjoy <3
“Stop,” you said, looking up at him.
“What?” His lips curled upwards, eyes gazing down at you, hands in his pockets. “What am I even doing?”
“You’re looking at me.”
“Should I not be looking at you?”
“Not like that,” you sighed.
“Like what?”
“Jack—”
His smile grew.
Jack stepped closer.
“Want me to look away?”
“Well, no.”
He lowered his head slightly. Jack watched the way you bit your lower lip.
“Can’t I look at you?”
You rolled your eyes and moved a hand to his chest, slowly pushing him away. “You’re distracting me.”
“From what? Charting?” He continued.
“Yes, from doing my job,” you answered.
“Maybe I like looking at you, is that so wrong?”
“Not when you look like that.”
He chuckled.
Jack was amused.
Then, you lowered your voice. “You keep looking at me like you want something.”
“So what if I do?”
“We’re at work,” you whispered.
“Makes it more fun,” he answered. “Don’t you think?”
“You’re torturing me,” you said. “That’s what you’re doing.”
Jack leaned in closer.
His lips hovered near your ear as he whispered, “Look at you,” he said quietly. “Getting all flustered.”
You cleared your throat and slowly pulled back to look up at him. Luckily, there was a lull in the night shift that gave you time to catch up on your charting, which meant giving Jack time to distract you all he wanted.
“Stop,” you whispered, shaking your head. “I’m not flustered.”
“I think you are,” he chuckled.
“We are at work,” you repeated.
“And we’re working.”
“I’m working. You’re distracting me.”
Jack leaned back again.
Then, his eyes took in every inch of you from top to bottom and back up.
“Jack,” you warned.
He chuckled. “What?”
Feeling defeated, you moved away from the computer and began walking away, knowing that he was going to follow you very closely.
“Okay, wait, hey—”
Jack thought he might have crossed a line. He was close on your heels, following you through the emergency department into one of the supply closets towards the back. His brow furrowed when you opened the door.
“What—”
Then, you stepped inside and pulled him in with you. It was a small room, cramped without much space to move around in, which meant Jack was so close now.
Chest pressed against yours.
His large hands reaching out to rest on your hips.
And it was dark too.
Until he reached for the light switch and turned the light on.
Yet again, his eyes were solely on yours.
Jack grinned because he knew that look in your eyes now.
A dark gaze, filled with lust.
Your tongue darted out to lick your lower lip.
He felt his lower half twitch in excitement.
“There you go again,” you whispered. “Looking at me like that.”
Jack stepped closer until your back pressed against the wall, trapping you between him and the wall now. “I can’t help myself,” he whispered, leaning down to brush his lips across your own.
“Well, you have to try,” you said quietly, moving your hands from his chest to rest on his broad shoulders.
“I can separate my personal life from work,” he said, moving his lips down your jawline and the side of your neck lightly. He heard you inhale sharply, which made his grip around your hips tighten just enough to pull you closer against him.
“I don’t think you can,” you answered, eyes fluttering shut when you felt his lips brush along your neck. Your hands moved to the back of his head, fingers combing through his salt and pepper hair.
He chuckled against you.
Jack peppered light and open-mouthed kisses on your skin, one hand moving from your hip to your ass, squeezing it roughly into his palm.
You pulled him closer as a response, tightened your arms around him and holding him against you.
“You can’t blame me,” he muttered, teeth grazing the skin at your neck. “I like looking at you.” Jack squeezed your ass again and you let out an involuntary whimper. “Shhh,” he whispered, pulling back to look down at you. “We can’t have everyone know what I’m doing to you, can we?”
You cleared your throat and moved your hands to his chest. He flexed his pecs underneath your fingertips and you shook your head, trying to snap out of whatever was going on in your mind right now.
You were both at work.
You needed to focus.
So, you gently pushed him away.
Tried to make some room between both your bodies now.
And still, he had his eyes locked with yours and a smug fucking grin on his lips.
“You’re in trouble when we get home,” you warned.
He bit his lower lip in anticipation.
“Do you promise?” Jack chuckled.
He stepped closer.
“Jack,” you said.
“I love it when you work the night shift with me,” he smiled, one of his hands now moving to your cheek.
He always kept his eyes focused on yours. It was one of the first things you noticed about him—how easy it was for him to keep direct eye contact with anyone he was talking to. It was like he was giving the person in front of him his undivided attention.
But with you—it was different with you.
“How many hours do we have left?” You finally asked.
Jack smiled. “Few more hours.” His thumb brushed along your cheek as he leaned forward to rest his forehead against yours. “I’ll try to keep my eyes to myself,” he sighed dramatically.
“Thank you,” you whispered, leaning into his touch.
“But the minute we get home,” he said quietly, slowly moving his head to brush his nose with your own. “You’re mine.”
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