A collection of all my works, the characters I write for, and who I hope to write for, all put in one organized place for your own convenience.
*characters actually written for in italics*
STRANGER THINGS
When a young boy vanishes, a small town uncovers a mystery involving secret experiments, terrifying supernatural forces and one strange little girl.
CHARACTERS INCLUDE/MAY INCLUDE: robin buckley, nancy wheeler, steve harrington, eddie munson
OFF CAMPUS
A group of hockey players and college students all just trying to find their school-life balance
CHARACTERS INCLUDE/ MAY INCLUDE: john logan, john tucker, dean di laurentis
SUPERMAN
A bumbling reporter chasing after the next great story all while concealing his secret identity as Metropolis' Superman.
CHARACTER INCLUDE/MAY INCLUDE: clark kent, superman
MARVEL
In a world of androids, aliens, and wizards, even the superpowered heros deserve bit of normalcy.
CHARACTERS INCLUDE/MAY INCLUDE: bucky barnes, bob reynolds, johnny storm, (and anticipating others)
HARRY POTTER
Surrounding the world of The Boy Who Lived, and those who came before.
CHARACTERS INCLUDE/ MAY INCLUDE: george weasley, sirius black, regulus black, remus lupin, wolfstar, james potter
CRIMINAL MINDS
When an elite team of FBI profilers travel the country to investigate the nation's most twisted serial killers.
CHARACTERS INCLUDE/ MAY INCLUDE: aaron hotchner, spencer reid, elle greenaway, luke alvez
HOLIDAY SPECIALS
A holiday marathon for all of my fan-favorites to liven up the holiday season
CHARACTERS INCLUDE: steve harrington, spencer reid, bucky barnes, anthony bridgerton, clark kent, aaron hotchner, johnny storm, bob reynolds, george weasley, fiyero tigelaar, sirius black, eddie munson
MISCELLANEOUS
Where the rest of my stories reside when I am not ready to commit to an entire fandom.
CHARACTERS INCLUDE: cisco ramon, fiyero tigelaar, anthony bridgerton, benedict bridgerton, john logan
♡ the love advice (3+1)───as john logan's best friend, it was your moral obligation to give him love advice, even if it went direct against your own wants
JOHN TUCKER
♡ off-limits───garrett had always been overly protective of you, going so far as putting as declaring you 'off-limits' to his friends, but things don't always go to plan (coming soon!)
DEAN DI LAURENTIS
♡ periodically ghosted───you always disappeared from dean's life for a week every month and he can't stand it (even if you guys were just casual) (coming soon!)
A Stranger Things x Reader Fic series based on Laufey's Album: 𝓐 𝓜𝓪𝓽𝓽𝓮𝓻 𝓞𝓯 𝓣𝓲𝓶𝓮 ♡⸝⸝ Each fic will represent a song on the album and the meaning behind each song <3
Series Status; Currently in writing!
This series will include: Angst, Smut, Fluff, Heartbreak, Out-Of-Character Characters, Fem!reader for: A Cautionary Tale & Snow White, heavy topics about love, manipulation, self-hatred
Clockwork ; Steve Harrington x Reader → Best-Friends to Lovers, destined to fall in love. ☁︎ 𝄞
Lover Girl ; Eddie Munson x Reader → Eddie falls in love with you too fast, causing him to overthink everything. ⏾ ☁︎
A Cautionary Tale ; Nancy Wheeler x Fem!Reader → You feel as if Nancy has fallen out of love with you, so in turn, you try to act more like her previous lover so Nancy will like you more. ⏾ ✦
Snow White ; Robin Buckley x Fem!Reader → Robin struggles with her beauty and her neurodivergent traits. Thinking she doesn't deserve you, she distances herself, which only hurts her more. ⏾ ☁︎ 𝄞
Clean Air ; Steve Harrington x Reader → Realizing that his previous relationship with Nancy wasn't healthy, he works on himself so he can love you better-the way you deserve. ⏾ ☁︎
Sabotage ; Nancy Wheeler x Reader → Feeling that you don’t deserve to be in a relationship, you get in your head and break off things with Nancy suddenly without thinking about it, and grieve the consequences. ⏾
⧽ Extra . . .
Goddess ; Rockstar!Eddie Munson x Reader → Falling in love takes its toll, especially when you fall in love with the glamorized version of your partner. ✦ ⏾ 𖦹
[fandoms include: wicked, bridgerton, the cw flash, & off campus]
main masterlist
FIYERO TIGELAAR
♡ to forgive; to forget ( series )───having never lived in one place for long, you were used to being the one everyone eventually forgot about. and despite his promises, fiyero proved himself to be just like everyone else. or so you think
♡ let it snow───finding out that you don't know how to skate, fiyero dedicates his time to teaching you
ANTHONY BRIDGERTON
♡ winter wonderland───anthony was much too serious, especially around the holidays, you were dedicated to letting him have a bit of fun
BENEDICT BRIDGERTON
♡ exist for love (original character; series)───after being newly widowed, Aurelia Florentine decides to return back home, but she's not the same person from when Benedict last saw her
CISCO RAMON
♡ ghost spider)───central city knew their famous and heroic Flash, but what happens when there's a new hero in town with a set of special senses
JOHN LOGAN
♡ the love advice [3+1]───the three times john got advice from you and the one time you got advice from him
⤷ (ignited spark ; old flame ; burned hearts)───you can't help but fear the possibility of your love ruining everything
♡ rings───when facing an unsub, she asks you what you'd do to protect your daughter
♡ bewitched───after a date gone wrong, hotch finds you and gives you the night you deserve
♡ linus and lucy───you decide to share your christmas traditions with aaron and jack
SPENCER REID
♡ love, life, and death───as the ticking timebomb clicks closer and closer to your doom, you couldn't help but think about all the things you never said
♡ baby it's cold outside───when a snow storm get even worse, you and spencer take refuge in your home
ELLE GREENAWAY
♡ goddess───when stardom has led you to a life of heartbreak, you knew elle would be there for you
[i do not align with, nor do i tolerate the hateful rhetoric jkr advocates for. this page is a safe space for marginalized communities and i will not accept discrimination of any kind. happy reading <3]
GEORGE WEASLEY
♡ snowman───when you have nowhere else to go over the holiday break, george insists you come home with him
SIRIUS BLACK
♡ you're a mean one, mr. grinch───sirius black was always insufferable, but something about the winter season made him even more of a pain in the ass
REGULUS BLACK
♡ first times a charm───you never really got to know your best friend's brother, but when you finally do, you find yourself quite taken by him
REMUS LUPIN
♡ let me love you───despite all the signs he was giving you, you were so convinced that remus lupin did not like you
WOLFSTAR
♡ step-by-step───a step by step guide for avoiding being outed for falling in love with your best friend
♡ your void ; light in the dark (bonus)───as the entirety of new york city is cloaked in darkness, you are forced to come face to face with your past you worked so hard to put away
♡ my only wish (this year)───you don't think your grumpy neighbor should spend christmas alone
JOHNNY STORM
♡ phoenixed spark [sneak peek]───johnny never thought he'd see you, his old flame, ever again
♡ burning slow [ 3+1 ]───the three times johnny flirted with you + the one time you flirted back
♡ all i want for christmas───most of johnny's christmas season is spent trying to find the perfect gift for you
BOB REYNOLDS
♡ silent night───you want nothing more than for your first christmas with bob to be perfect, all he wants is quiet time with you
You found out pretty soon into your college career that happy hour at Malone’s only ended in two different ways for you.
Outcome one was like everyone else’s—have way too many drinks and spill a few too many secrets all while dancing like no one was watching. Sure, you probably misplaced your purse a while ago and the next morning you’d wake up with a killer hangover, but that was a future-you issue.
Outcome two was more pitiful. You likely had something important to do in the morning, so you decided against drinking, meaning your butt was glued to the booth that you shared with your best friend as he made googly eyes at the waitress.
It was nights like these that made you want to rip your heart out of your chest and stomp on it. That would hurt less than this.
“You know staring at her any harder won’t magically make her a mind reader, right?”
His eyes flickered back over to you with some poor attempt at confusion. “Who?”
“John Logan, do not play stupid with me, your smarts is the only thing you have going for you.”
A laugh escaped the boy, his lips spreading across his cheeks in a way that made your heart flutter. “Gee thanks, tell me what you really think.”
You attempted to mirror his actions, letting a similar smile find you that never truly reached your eyes. “If I told you what I really think, you’d be running for the hills.”
“Give me some credit,” he replied, bumping his shoulder into yours. “If I wanted to run, I would’ve done it ages ago.”
It was like something was tethering you to him wherever he touched you, urging you to seek him out. As he bumped his shoulder into yours, you leaned into it, smiling as the two of you met in the middle.
“I’ll hold you to it,” you smiled.
“Oh, I know you will.”
For that small bit of time as the music continued on and the world spun around the two of you, you were able to forget and play pretend just for a bit. Pretend that the way he leaned into your touch meant something more. Pretend that he also felt something every time your eyes would cross.
You could even imagine a world where you got over yourself and admitted everything that has sat on your chest since what felt like the beginning of time.
“Hey guys, welcome to Malone’s, I’m Hannah. What can I get started for you today.”
And in a flash, the moment would slip away to the nothingness you were dealt with as John sat up in his seat, leaning forward so his eyes were centered on her.
You felt it as that dagger in your chest twisted itself as you watched his eyes light up at the sight of her. Your eyes trailed over him observing the way his smile grew shy and how seemed to be fiddling with his hands as he talked to her.
Flicking your eyes up to Hannah, you could feel the way your heart sank. Some deep, selfish part of you wanted nothing more than to hate the girl. If you hated her, then maybe you’d find some weird twisted vindication for the way it all made you feel.
But you couldn’t bring yourself to hate her.
In turn, all you were left with were these cruel comparisons that lingered in your mind. How she seemed to carry herself with this assurance—like she knew exactly what she was going to do and nothing would get in her way. How she seemed to make people laugh without even trying. Even how she looked so effortlessly beautiful even after working the fifth hour of her nighttime shift.
It made you feel rather dull in comparison.
“And for you?”
You blinked back to attention, realizing both of their eyes were on you. “Oh um…just water please.” Your smile felt weak, reminding you that you’d be happier watching some rom-com back at your dorm instead of putting yourself through this hell.
“Y’sure you don’t want anything else,” John asked, his brow quirking up at you curiously.
You nodded, pulling your arms under the table and squeezing them together as you shoulders pulled in. “Yeah. I’m not all that hungry if I’m being honest.”
“Alright then,” Hannah smiled. “Just let me know if you change your mind, everything should be out shortly.”
Once she left the table, you remained silent. Your eyes swept across the room, seeing the live band playing from the front and the crowd forming around them, but you weren’t really watching them.
You kind of drifted off, staring aimlessly ahead of you as your thoughts and frustrations swirled heavily in your chest.
Then you felt the warmth that wrapped around your hand, threading between your fingers and holding you carefully. “Hey, you okay?”
And like a boulder being pushed back up the hill again, you felt the spiking of your heartbeat as you looked over to see John looking at you with concern. His brows pinched together in a way that made you want to cup his face and smooth over his frown lines.
You tried your best to push out the best ‘yeah!’ and inwardly cringed as it sounded to bright and chipper.
He squeezed your hand, bringing it to the table as he leaned in, tilting his head to you inquisitively. “You’re a terrible liar, y’know?”
You scoffed and smiled lightly. “Says you.”
John let out a drawn out hum. “Well now your deflecting.”
“Nothing gets past you, huh?”
A beat of silence passed over the two of you for just a moment as he his eyes scanned over your face carefully, a small frown taking his lips.
“Talk to me.” His tone was deeper now, softer as he lowered his voice just for you. “You always have.”
You couldn’t bring yourself to say anything at first, just staring back at him with a melancholic admiration. He could always read you. He knew it, his friends knew it, and you knew it all too well.
It swirled all too many feelings in your chest every time you were presented with that fact. Your heart bleeding at the thought that no one on this earth knew you better than him. Then it froze over with fear at the idea that one look too long would send him into the realization that you are hopelessly in love with him. And of course, it all shattered in hurt as you were forced to realize that he didn’t know.
He didn’t know the biggest, all-encompassing secret that kept you up into the long hours of the night and prevented you from being alone and drunk with out of the fear of spilling everything.
It made you wonder how much he truly knew you, and how much you fabricated in your head to cope with the fact that he wasn’t yours and probably never will be.
“I know,” you smiled convincingly enough, squeezing his hand back. “I’m just a little tired. It’s been a long week.”
You felt as his hand untangled itself from yours as he lifted his pinky up to you. “Promise?”
A short moment passed as you blinked at his finger. Swallowing the lump in your throat, you smiled and interlocked your pinky with his. “Promise.”
“Alright, guys. I’ve got two waters, an order of burgers and fries, and an extra fry.”
And just like that his gaze was back on her. “Thank you, Hannah.”
“Of course,” she smiled, throwing her hands up on her hips. “Did you guys want anything else?”
You only shook your head and smiled halfheartedly. “No, that’ll be all.”
“Great! If you need anything else, I’m Hannah!”
At first you watched as she walked away, then you let your eyes drift back to John where he had just the similar thought.
You bit your lip in thought, deeply mulling over the words that you knew you’d come to regret.
“You should talk to her…outside of here I mean.”
He whipped his head around to face you, his brows knitting back down in a form of confusion. “What,” he laughed. “No, I couldn’t.”
“Why not,” you joked, bumping your shoulder into his again. “If you stare at her longingly like that any longer then you’ll just look like a creep.”
His mouth fell open and shut as he searched for his words—or excuses. “I’m not her type—she doesn’t even like hockey guys.”
You nodded skeptically. “And how do you know that?”
He responded with a wince, his face contorting into a cringe as he rubbed the back of his neck. “I may or may not have overheard her telling her friend about it the other day at the counter.”
This time, it was your turn to laugh as your mouth fell open in disbelief. “Oh my god, you are a creep. I take it back, maybe you shouldn’t talk to her.”
“I’m not a creep,” he scoffed, hiding his smile. “It was an accident. I meant to talk to her, I just…froze up I guess.”
You could’ve teased him for it, but you didn’t. Instead you met him with sincerity. “You gotta take your chance at some point. Before someone swoops in and takes that chance before you. Then you’ll sit there regretting every action you didn’t take.”
You looked at him absentmindedly, not meaning it to come off as profound advice, but when you met his eyes again, they were back on you in a way that made your eyes widen a bit.
“Woah,” he commented half jokingly. “Sounds like you’re speaking from experience.”
You rolled your eyes, snagging a fry from his basket. “Wouldn’t you like to know, weather boy.”
John hummed and rolled his eyes. “Can’t go a moment without saying something sarcastic, can you?”
You grinned. “Nope. I’d die without it.”
He smiled again, making your heart sparkle once more.
“Here,” he replied, pushing his extra basket of fries in your direction. “That’s for you.”
“What? I didn’t order any.”
“I know,” he murmured. “But you always say you’re not hungry before eating half my fries. Can’t have you going hungry on me.”
You looked at the basket, hand hovering over it before flitting your eyes back up to him.
“…thank you…”
“Of course. What are friends for?”
[2]
You were 15 when you met John Logan—the guarded yet kind boy that ended up being your partner for the class project. From then on, the two of you were practically attached at the hip.
He was there for you at every bad day and rough moment and you were there whenever his world became too much.
The two of you balanced out the chaotic lives you lived and over those years, you learned a few things about him.
You knew that he had the tendency to bite his tongue, never wanting to step on someone else’s toes unless he pushed to his limit. You knew he was especially hard on himself because no one else was; because if he wasn’t he’d have to face the reality of losing everything he worked hard to build. You also knew that if he didn’t want to be found, he knew just how to make himself sparse.
The past few days had been fine, the both of you focusing on your respective schedules and finding time for each other in between, but then out of nowhere, it was radio silent from him.
You let it go on for a day, giving him the time to breathe because you knew he likely needed it if he was avoiding you, but after that you decided you should find him. And you knew exactly where to find him.
With a zip, you closed up your hoodie as you walked into the doors of the skating rink. Sure enough, he was right where you expected him to be: pushing himself beyond his limit as an excuse to get his mind off is life.
Wordlessly, you sat there and watched him as he paced back and forth on the ice, smacking the pucks aggressively into the goals. You didn’t flinch or react as the sound echoed through the room, only kept your eyes trained on him as he finally slowed to a stop and skated in your direction.
“Hey stranger,” you called once he was close enough. “Y’wanna talk about it?”
His breath was shallow as he looked at you through the metal of his helmet. You could see the sweat dripping off him as he shook his head. “It’s nothing.”
“Okay then,” you replied coolly, nodding before holding up a pair of skates for him to see. “Can I join you?”
He looked at you with a sense of disbelief. “You wanna do drills with me?”
You shrugged. “I don’t wanna play. I wanna skate. It’ll be kinda hard though with a big angry hockey player smacking his shit around on the ice.”
After a beat of contemplation from him, a small victorious smile slipped onto your lips as you saw his shoulders slump in defeat. “For old times sake Johnny.”
The boy lost the helmet and stick by time you slipped your skates onto your feet and made your way on the ice.
You didn’t wait for him as you kicked off, skating a jogging pace around the ice. You didn’t need to look back to know what he was already slowly catching up to you before finding his pace right next to you.
At first, the two of you skated in silence. Only the noise of the blades meeting the ice could be heard. Then he broke the silence.
“Garrett and Hannah got together.”
His words were blunt and spit out—you almost missed them. But when they eventually caught up to your ears, you came to a sudden stop, John stopping and turning around just a few feet ahead of you.
“What?”
He shook his head. “I really don’t wanna repeat it.”
Apart of you wanted to be gleeful. That recurring selfishness that wanted nothing more than to let Hannah be out the picture. But then you saw that hurt and frustration covering his face and it all melted into guilt.
“I–you were right. I should’ve said something when I had my chance. It’s just…pisses me off.”
You skated up to him slowly. “That she’s taken?”
“That it’s Garrett!” His voice rebounded off the walls as it raised slightly. “He—he didn’t even know her name a week ago and I just—,” he cut himself off.
His face was flushed red when you reached him, refusing to even look you in the eye. “Garrett’s great. My best friend or whatever but,” he looked up at you and shook his head, “I know him. He’s gonna be over her in less than a month and she doesn’t deserve that…”
You hated that feeling that rushed over you as you stood before him. Frustration and self-pity welling up in a bile that rested somewhere in your chest, waiting to just engulf you. The only thing worse than the feeling itself had to be shoving it away like your feelings were worth nothing.
Yet with a gentleness reserved for very few, you slipped your hands into his and gave it a squeeze. “John…I’m gonna tell you something. I know you’re not gonna wanna hear it but you need to.”
He didn’t look up at first, just glared at the ice below him.
“John.”
With stubborn defiance, he let his eyes meet yours and behind all that anger you could see the real vulnerability pouring through.
“It’s not your place to decide what’s good for Hannah.”
You could see his jaw clench as you continued, not in anger but when he knew you were right and didn’t want to admit it. “She is a grown woman who can date or hook up with whoever she likes…even Garrett.”
“I know,” he pushed out. “I just feel like he gets all these wins and I’m just…fucked. Like I can’t stop pulling the short end of the stick.”
You nodded, staring at him intently as you kept your grip on his hands. “I know. And unfortunately, that’s life. Sometimes you get shit and sometimes you get gold and most days you can’t control which hand you’re dealt. What you can control is what you do with it. Are you gonna obsess over this girl that isn’t yours, or are you gonna find a way to move past it?”
His breath was even now and his eyes stayed concentrated on you as his anger slowly slipped away. Wordlessly, he nodded and squeezed your hands one last time and let you ground him in this moment.
[INTERLUDE]
John was a man of consistency. Growing up the way he did, he chased that rhythm of knowing exactly was going to happen next in his life; whether that be with his academics, his career, or just sticking to a weekly schedule of class, gym, practice, studying, and sleep (save room for a party or two of course).
Within that schedule was movie night with you every week.
The two of you sat on the couch, lucky to snag the tv before any of the other boys. He sat in the corner of the couch, arm thrown over the back while you cozied into his side.
If he was being honest, he lost the plot of the movie a while ago; it had been a long day and practice was particularly rough so he felt dead. But he enjoyed these smaller moments with you when the world quieted itself just for the two of you.
“You’re not falling asleep on me,” you asked, looking up at him knowingly.
A rumble moved through his chest as he blinked himself awake. “Of course not. I could never miss the fundamentals of Jane Austen adaptations.”
“Don’t act like you don’t force me to watch your movies too,” you shoot back with a laugh while poking him in the side.
But before he could respond, a pain flared from his chest, forcing him to sit up with a groan. “Fuck.”
“Shit,” you murmured. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah,” he grunted, trying to shake it off before you got too worried. “Probably just a bruise.”
But John eventually learned that a world that you weren’t worried about him was a world that simply didn’t exist.
“Let me see.”
He laughed it off at first, looking up at you. “What?”
“You heard me.” Your voice was stern and stubborn, not offering much room for him to argue back. “Lift up your shirt.”
“Jesus, buy me dinner first.”
You frowned at him. “John Logan—,”
“Okay, okay fine,” he ushered, moving his hand that kept his shirt from riding up. “Forget how stubborn you can be.”
You didn’t give him much of a response as you reached for the hem of his shirt and lifted it up to reveal the large scrape running up the side of his abdomen.
“Jesus Christ, you’re bleeding.”
His mouth fell open a moment, looking down at his injury then back up at you. “I’d hardly call it bleeding. I’ve had worse.”
“Doesn’t mean you should be bleeding out on the couch.”
“I’m not bleeding out,” he tried. “The boys just got a little carried away during practice okay? I’ll go patch myself up right now if you’re so worried.”
“No,” you demanded, pushing him lightly back onto the couch as you now knelt above him to stand up. “You stay put, I’ll do it.”
“That’s really not necessary.”
You threw your hands up on your hips and glared at the boy. “How about this, either you let me help you or you let the doctor in the emergency room help you? Your pick.”
Once again, he let his mouth fall open and shut incredulously as a scoff of a laugh left. “Fine, okay. If you insist.”
You eventually returned with this silent concentration that he rarely ever saw in you. Wordlessly, you sat back down on the couch next to him.
He watched as you worked on him and somewhere between you lightly wiping the wet cloth over his wound and tearing open the bandage packet, something changed.
Suddenly he took notice of the way your eyes trained so heavily on him, the way you bit your bottom lip, the way your fingers brushed against his skin so lightly in a way that trailed a flame with every touch.
It was like you set him on fire and he had no clue what to do with it.
[3]
The library was typically where you found the most peace. Most times you were there with John, studying until your eyes hurt and you couldn’t bear to type another paper or jot down another formula. Tonight was meant to be no different.
But your study partner’s mind seemed to be wandering elsewhere.
“Okay I’ll bite,” you huffed out, tossing your pen down to the table. “What’s wrong?”
John’s eyes flickered up to you in confusion. “What do you mean?”
You stared at him. Hard. Your eyes scanned all over his face before leaning back in your chair with a sigh. “I thought you were done with all this Hannah mess.”
“I-,” he stammered. “I was—I am! What are you on about?”
You quirked a brow up at the boy. “You’re making that face you always do. That face when you see Hannah and you want her to look at you. Except now it’s worse because she’s not even here.”
“That’s not—I don’t—,” he cut himself off, rubbing his hand over face. “It’s not Hannah…not anymore.”
You paused, suddenly afraid of moving as he avoided your gaze. You knew the question you wanted to ask—it weighed on your chest, fat, heavy, and waiting to be addressed.
“But there is someone?”
The silence in the air was enough of an answer for you, but his responses that tumbled out only seemed to taunt you more, beating the dagger deeper into your chest.
“Yes? No. Maybe. I don’t know…it’s complicated.”
That silence sat uncomfortably with you, as if the room was closing in. You wanted nothing more than to take down the walls so hellbent on closing in on you.
“Two lovers in a month,” you joked, your smile half-assed. “Quite the Casanova, huh Johnny?”
You didn’t expect him to snap back at you.
“Don’t be like that.” It wasn’t harsh or mean, but you could sense the edge in his voice as he looked back up at you.
“Like what,” you bit back, your voice cautious on the air.
“Like…” he trailed off, searching for the words in his head. “I don’t know.”
You looked at him patiently, rolling the ball of thought in your head before finally speaking up. “Tell me about them?”
He looked up at you and in his eyes you found something new, something strange. You couldn’t quite put your finger on it, either.
“I…I just don’t want to fuck it up. I’m not good at this and you know I’m not but this time…they’re not like Hannah. I’d actually have something to lose if I do anything.”
God it felt like someone was punching you in the gut, watching him go on with this sparkle in his eyes that seemed to intensify from the times he’d go on about Hannah.
But you still did what you did best. You gave him advice.
“Well…I know it’s corny to say but, I think the best thing for you is listen to yourself…I can tell you that you need to man up or that you need to focus on yourself, but at the end of the day, it all comes down to what you’re willing to risk for what you want.”
He didn’t respond at first. Only sat there quietly and you weren’t really sure how he felt about what you had to say.
“I can say this. Ever since I met you, you always carefully picked the people you were friends with. If this person means as much to you as you say then something like this won’t chase them off.”
You leaned forward and let your hands cover his, rubbing your thumb over his knuckles in a way that only felt selfish.
You could only bring yourself to wonder why you kept putting yourself in positions like this with him.
[+1]
Finals season was finally over and you were free. It felt like one of the many weights were lifted off your shoulder and you were finally free to do what you really wanted to do.
Maybe on another night you would’ve stayed in and slept until the next semester, but somehow (with very little convincing) you were at Malone’s once again with your friends.
One thing led to another and suddenly you were settling on one of your two inevitable outcomes that came from Malone’s: enough drinks in your system to want to dance on a table. It was the kind of confidence you weren’t even sure where it came from.
You had already found the chair to help you reach the table before you felt someone tugging you down into their chest.
You whipped your head around suddenly before your shock melted into a dizzy smile as you recognized him.
“Johnny! I missed you. Where have you been?”
“Well,” he started with an amused smile, slowly leading you away from the crowd and towards the door. “One of your friends called and told me you were a bit to drunk to drive home.”
You let out a dramatic gasp, halting in your step before turning around to face him fully. “Was is Mackenzie? Or was it Kris? Traitors…”
John huffed out a laugh as he took you by your hand and continued to pull you toward the exit, guiding you to his car with the looming fear of you suddenly falling over or puking. Or both.
“I’m not supposed to be alone with you when I’m drunk,” you groaned as he began his drive. “Sober-me made drunk-me swear by it.”
He looked at you with a raised eyebrow. “Why’s that?”
“Because,” you hissed. “I have secrets! Big secrets. If I’m drunk then I’ll want to tell you my secrets.”
He could only let himself smile a bit as he tried to brush off your words. “Well then I’ll be sure you don’t spill any secrets to me.”
You only giggled and grinned as you turned to him. “That sounds like a challenge.”
“I thought you didn’t want me to have your secrets,” he laughed.
“That’s sober-me,” you replied with a feigned coolness. “Drunk-me doesn’t associate with them.”
“Talk about self-sabotage,” he chuckled lightly to himself.
His hand rested on the console between the two of you, drumming lightly in a way that caught your attention. Absentmindedly, you reached for it, running your fingers up and down to trace where his veins trailed.
“You have pretty hands, Johnny.”
His eyes flickered to look at you from his peripheral. “Thank you.”
His voice was clipped. Restrained.
“Johnny?”
A beat of silence passed between the two of you before he spoke up. “Yeah?”
“Can I tell you something?”
A small smile spread across his lips again. “Is it a secret?”
You giggled again, looking back at him. “No…it’s a question. I always give you advice, I think it’s about time you give me some earth=shattering advice.”
He couldn’t help but laugh at that before releasing a soft sigh. “Go for it.”
“If I have a this big fat secret that I technically shouldn’t tell, I know that I shouldn’t ever bring it up.”
“That’s typically how secrets work.”
“Okay smart-ass,” you frowned, flicking his hand before sitting back in your seat. “But what if this secret is like huge. Like…it makes me want to throw up, explode, and vomit all at the same time.”
“Aren’t vomiting and throwing up the same thing,” he questioned.
“Oh my god,” you groaned, throwing your head back to stare at the ceiling of the car. “Stop trying to be funny, a piece of me dies every time you try to be funny.”
“Wow,” he muttered, failing to even try to hide his smile. “I think a secret like that should be told to the right person. You should find someone you trust with it if you can’t share it.”
The car finally came to a stop, allowing him a moment to fully look at you as your eyes drooped back down to him. “And if the secret is about the person I trust the most in the world?”
The silence that passed between the two of you was typically short and quick, shoved under the rug before it could even be processed. This silence was not like that.
It laid in the air with heavy existence as John struggled to come up with anything to say. All he could focus on was the way your eyes seemed to glimmer under the lights of the nearby street lights.
And of course, he was always the one to break it. “Look at that, we’re here. C’mon.”
Even drunk, you knew the routine whenever you spent the night at John’s. You’d take the bathroom first, then him and he’d let you take the bed while he took the floor (no matter how hard you fought him over it). You had stayed over so often that he already had your clothes waiting for you in his bottom drawer.
It didn’t take long for the two of you to get ready. You sat on his bed, watching him expectantly as he made his own makeshift bed on the floor beside you.
“You should know my secret,” you blurted out.
“I really don’t think I should,” he replied softly.
“I really think you should.”
“y/n.”
“It’s really important actually—been eating me alive since freshman year.”
“y/n.”
“I’m in love with you John Logan.”
With his back to you, the man froze in his actions. Unable to move as the words fully moved through his head. But you kept going.
“I wanted to tell you immediately actually, but then there was her. Yo—you liked her for so long and y’know it was always Hannah. Always. And a part of me, a really really selfish part of me, wishes it stayed Hannah. Because then…it means less. Hannah is amazing and kind and beautiful, and so so so funny. Hell I’d be in love with Hannah if I wasn’t so in love with you.”
He knew he should stop the words free-falling from your lips, but he couldn’t even gather himself to move much less convince you to stop saying all the things he knew you’d regret in the morning.
“But then you met someone else and then I finally realized it. It was never about me not being like Hannah. It was about me not being right…for you. I’ll never be right for you, will I?”
Not enough words could describe everything John wanted to say in that moment, but it truly didn’t matter. For when he turned around to face you, you were already fast asleep.
[the aftermass]
You weren’t sure exactly what time it was when you eventually woke up, all you knew is that you were drenched in regret as a headache pounded incessantly in your head.
The night came back to you in pieces, like a puzzle waiting to be put back together slowly. You remember your friends inviting you to Malone’s, having a few too many drinks, the dancing, the attempts to climb on the table.
It got fuzzier as you tried to recall. John had shown up, dragging you out the bar, convincing you not to spill—
You sat up suddenly, headache be damned, as your memories slammed itself back into your mind.
And then the voice you dreaded to hear. “Good morning.”
He was seated there on the floor, just like he always was when you woke up. You would exchange your ‘good mornings’, laugh about whatever happened the night before, talk about what you had planned that day.
“You remember much from last night,” he asked, sounding as if he’d been up for hours.
You only nodded.
If you were being honest, you wanted to skip over the entire routine. You swung your feet over the bed, planting your feet on the ground while avoiding his gaze.
“Do you want to talk about it,” he asked.
You shook your head at first. “No.”
You didn’t need to look at him to register how much he was thrown off. “No?”
“No just…not yet.” You began for the door, hand landing on the doorknob. “I need coffee before I can talk about anything.”
You knew he was following and you really wished you didn’t. Knowing he was just a few steps behind you only made the thudding in your heart all the more intense.
It was a huge awkward silence that settled between the two of you as he stood there, waiting for the moment you gave any indication as to wanting to continue the conversation.
“You want some,” you ask, back turned completely to him.
“y/n.”
You let out a sigh as you gripped your now full mug, glaring into the pool of brown liquid before eventually turning around to face him from where he stood at the other side of the island.
“Guess that’s a no,” you attempted to joke, but he didn’t quite return the sentiment. He only seemed to look back at you with that look of conflict he wore so often.
“If you don’t want to talk about it…”
“No,” you blurted out suddenly. “I just…”
You pinched the bridge of your nose before tossing your hand up and letting it fall to the side. “I kinda said everything I needed to say last night. Yes, I’ve liked you or been in love with you since we moved here. Yes, I was jealous of Hannah and I’m jealous of whoever you seem to like right now and no, I had no intention of telling you.
First it was Hannah and then it was your mystery person and I just don’t want to stand in the way of what you have going on and ruin thin—”
“y/n.”
He was beginning to make it a habit of saying your name in that specific tone that made you all dizzy inside.
“Can I have a turn to speak,” he asked softly.
You let out a brisk sigh before motioning for him to speak.
“Do you remember that one night a few weeks ago? When we were watching Pride and Prejudice in the living room?”
Your brows furrowed down in confusion before nodding slowly. “Yeaaah…? What about it?”
He took a step around the island, walking just a bit closer to you while still offering you that space. “Well, when I was sitting there, watching you patch me up, I realized something.”
He took another step. “I realized that you’re stubborn. And you rarely let other people have their way. But I like that about you.”
Another step. “You’re considerate. You always put other’s feelings before your own…even if it means sacrificing something for yourself.”
He took a final step forward, landing barely even a foot away from you. “I also learned that no one else in the world cares for me like you do. And I was blind to miss it for so long.”
Your mouth fell open, looking at him in with a mix of disbelief and skepticism. “I don’t understand. Your…your mystery person.”
With a gentle hand, he reached for your coffee mug and placed it down on the counter before grasping your hand to squeeze it tight, just like every time you did so to ground him.
“You are that person. It’s always been you. And if I’m being honest…ever since that night I have been doing everything in my power to not kiss you on the spot.”
And for a moment, neither of you moved. Neither of you was sure if one should. But then you saw that flicker of doubt in his eyes and the way he slowly leaned back from you.
In a split moment of decision making, you finally let your impulses speak for themselves and you grabbed the fabric of his shirt and pulled him into you, letting your lips collide.
He didn’t react at first, his eyes blowing wide as his senses caught up to him. But when they did, everything seemed to melt in place. With one arm wrapping itself around your waist, he let his other hand find the nape of your neck, cradling you close as you tried to breathe in every inch of him.
Your hand buried itself in his hair, nails scratching gently at his scalp, only making him sigh into the kiss. “Damn,” he mumbled against your lips, his breathing shallow as he pressed his forehead against yours.
You let out a soft laugh, unable to believe everything that’s finally happened. “Took you long enough to catch up, Johnny. You were killing me here.”
A smile blessed his lips as he continued to kiss you, like a vice. “I know. How will I ever make it up to you?”
You grinned devilishly. “I can think of a few different ways.
main masterlist
a/n: this was NOT meant to be this long omg. I just finished this show earlier this week and I'm obsessed with Logan, he's honestly one of my favorites. I hope this gets all the love, please comment and reblog it would mean so much to me!!
Hi! I love, love, love your dividers. I was wondering if you could maybe do some that are ice hockey themed? Maybe just crossed hockey sticks and lines on either side? Just something simple. Thank you so much for creating all the cool things you do!
Hello lovely! Thank you so much for your comments, they're really appreciated. Hope you like these:
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You were panicking terribly, yet Clark couldn’t help but be impressed how well you managed to compose yourself. Had he been just Clark Kent—bumbling awkward reporter for the Daily Planet, he likely wouldn’t have a second thought about it all.
But as Super man, he could hear it—your heart.
He’d never admit it out loud but he knew what your heart sounded like. Slow, steady, seemingly controlled. It thudded only a beat and a half faster than when he wore his red and blue but still—slow and steady.
Yet the moment you asked him that question, the moment you asked him to entertain the lie you’d soon perform for your mother—he could hear the way your heart never slowed. It was as if your heartbeat picked up three times its usual rate and never fell back down.
“Breathe,” he murmured as he stood behind you.
You stood in front of your mirror, glaring at your reflection as you fiddled with the necklace around your neck, only allowing a flickering glance to Clark.
“I am breathing. I’m clearly breathing. If I wasn’t breathing I’d be dead on the ground and—,” you stopped, casting another look at him before snapping your mouth shut defiantly.
“You know I’m not one to tell you what to do…or feel,” Clark bit his tongue, almost recoiling as he tasted the words that were about to fall from his lips, “you should probably calm down.”
Your glare back at him through the mirror was an answer enough for him. With his hands up in surrender, he took a step away from you as you let out an aggravated huff of air and continued to fiddle with the same necklace.
He let a beat pass through the air, simply watching you as you worked in stubborn silence. He knew that you knew he was staring, his eyes carefully trained on the silent concentration that you basked in.
Then he broke it.
“Do you need help?”
You let out yet another huff, ignoring the burning in your arms. “No.”
And like a carefully timed joke, the chain slipped through your fingers, the necklace making the smallest chiming noise as it hit the ground.
You were fast to grab it but Clark was faster, a swift stride in his movements that rang familiar to you. Just a little.
“You’re so stubborn,” he murmured as he studied the necklace, fiddling with the clasp before gaining a good hold on it.
You faced him now, glaring at him with defiant stubbornness that only rang as superficial to him. “Clark.”
“Turn around,” he insisted.
A wordless battle; silence settled between the two of you as you flicked an eyebrow up at him, arms crossed over your chest. Yet, your uncooperation was only met with his amusement.
“What happened to the Clark that would apologize profusely just for stumbling by my desk? I miss that Clark.”
Clark didn’t need superhearing to hear the soft joking undertone in your voice as you turned away, your back facing him.
“I guess I’m not as scared of you anymore.”
The words rolled off his tongue easily, not meaning much behind it, but it made you stop in your tracks as that funny feeling rushed over you all over again.
It began in your chest, flaring outward, almost like a twinge. Worst of all, it made you feel so painfully aware of everything, all at once. The way you were standing, where Clark was standing, how close he stood from you. The way he looked at you so carefully that you felt like he was looking straight into everything you tucked away.
A person who knew you less, wouldn’t have even noticed; the way every muscle in your face and body seemed to still.
If Clark was that person, the person who was capable of seeing the multitudes behind your stillness, he didn’t say anything about it.
You blinked once, then twice, then shoo-ed it away to the confines of your mind.
The hum that you forced past your throat almost hurt, splitting up the ounce of thick tension that snuck into the air as you turned away from him. “I guess I need to work on my glare then.”
Clark seemed to suck in a breath of air as he moved to lift the necklace over you. In the reflection though, his face seemed to lay perfectly even behind his glasses.
You felt the cool sensation of the metal touching your collarbone first as you watched him through the mirror lower the necklace over you.
“Or,” he murmured from behind you, spoken dangerously close to your ear. “You’re finally opening up to me?”
It wasn’t a statement of declaration. It was a question; a quiver of uncertainty as he tested the height of the walls you kept rebuilding around him.
His hands lingered as he clasped the chain, daring to let them connect to you. But he only let them brush against the space between your upper-back and curve of your neck. He could hear the pacing of your heart, spiking as your skin prickled beneath him.
He looked from the necklace to your reflection, but you were already there first looking at him with a focused yet unsure gaze.
His words came out with hesitance. “That wouldn’t be so terrible…would it?”
You didn’t move. You didn’t turn around. You simply stared at him through the mirror. Staring at his reflection in a way that made him wonder if you were refusing to look at him.
“I don’t know,” you mumbled. Clark wasn’t even sure if he was supposed to hear it.
But he did.
A moment of bravery crossed over Clark, the kind of bravery he only knew in blue and red. With a gentle hand, he let it brush over your shoulder. A silent way of saying that he was here.
But it was all too short-lived, the touch killed by your flinching sending his hands away from you.
His eyes widened as he cleared his throat and took a step back away from you, allowing you to finally turn around with pursed lips.
“Look at the bright side. You survived the rehearsal, now it’s just the dinner.”
You scoffed and smiled, looking away from him. “Just the dinner, he says.”
Clark let out a laugh. “I think if you can survive a hard lecture from Perry, you might be able to survive a dinner with your mom.”
“Well Perry doesn’t get personal now does he?”
You weren’t trying to shut him down and a part of Clark knew that. He could see it in the fear set behind your eyes as your poorly attempted comedy.
He let out the softest of sighs as he rolled his options around in his mind before stepping forward. “It’ll be okay,” he soothed. “I promise.”
You shook your head slightly. “You don’t know my mom.”
“No. But I know that you’re not alone here. You have me and I have you.”
A soft air settled around the two of you now, shrouded in silence. Not awkward or full of tension. Just…soft.
“Your back, I mean,” Clark corrected. “I’ll have your back.”
And for the first time in a while, you cracked a humored, non-sarcastic smile. “Got it.”
Clark smiled and the room fell back to his silence—silence except for the faint sound of your beating heart.
Clark was never intentionally trying to eavesdrop on the movement of your heart. It was always a passive habit; the same way humans don’t try to breathe, they simply do.
He could never turn it off, but something that noise, the fact that it belonged to you, Clark couldn’t help but seek it out. It was the closest Clark could ever get to knowing your true inner-monologue—your thoughts, fears…what you truly thought of him.
As you smiled up at him, he could hear how your rhythm slowed yet made itself irregular; as if it were tripping over its own leisure pace. Clark didn’t know what to make of it.
Clark wanted nothing more than to reach out for you. On a physical sense, sure, but likewise on an emotional level. He knew the walls were there but he also knew there was a reason for everything you did and how you reacted. Even the way you looked at him now with such guarded emotion.
He wanted nothing more than to just know you. Truly.
But as you cleared your throat and took a step back, clearing the fog that filled the air, he knew that you’d likely never let him.
“We should probably get out there before my mom starts looking for us.”
“...yeah.”
You stepped out of your room, Clark shortly behind you as you made your way to the kitchen.
Clark looked around the room. It was only your brother, his fiancee, your parents, and the two of you. Your eyes weren’t focused on the table where everyone else sat; yours fell on your mother, carrying two large plates from the kitchen.
And Clark did what he did best.
“Let me get that for you, ma’am.”
Swiftly, he slipped the plates from your mother’s hands and brought them to the center of the dining table where everyone seemed to watch him in amusement.
“Oh thank you Clark,” she gasped, a hand over her heart. “I don’t remember the last time y/n has tried to help me in the kitchen.”
You frown set in as Clark paused, looking at you with wide eyes.
“I just hope they don’t have you doing all the work back at home. You weren’t the most active when you were younger, were you?”
Tension lingered in the air as you and Clark took your seats, right across from your mom. A strained smile found your face and some odd beat of confliction found Clark’s until he eventually offered: “It’s nothing I don’t mind doing ma'am.”
It was going to be a long night…you just knew it.
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credit to @enchanthings for divider
okkk ik last time i said i'm back but NOW i'm back, i promise. i just finished my second year of college and it was a lot tbh. between all the creative writing and poetry classes i was taking, finding extra time to write a story with a confined plot was killing me, but i'm hoping to come back swinging this summer!! i did make a few changes, mainly being, reader is now femme presenting and using she/her pronouns occasionally just because i find it hard writing around it when writing about their mom, i hope this doesn't upset anyone too much, as a genderqueer person myself, i know its frustrating finding specifically gendered fics everywhere, so i'll try to still keep it as neutral as possible :)
and don't forget to comment if you'd like to be added to the taglist or if I missed you somewhere in here
Are you planning to finish theory of goodness? I loved it sm but it seems abandoned now..
Hii thank you so much for asking!
I absolutely am going to come back to theory of goodness, I’ve just been so burned out since I’ve been in school for the most part, but since the semesters coming to an end and summer’s coming back I anticipate more updates coming soon!
Thank you so much for being so patient with me, Ik hiatuses are frustrating 😭
— three times jack abbot flirted with you without you realizing, and the one time you realized !!
jack abbot x fem!resident!reader 5k+ word count warnings: medical inaccuracies (i researched the best i could), age gap (not specified), reader may come across as “dumb”, but she’s just overwhelmed!! note: first jack writing!! he’s my dream man btw. also, i refer to the characters as i think of them in my head😭 some are first name basis, others are strictly last name because i cannot remember their first names for the life of me.
{ ONE }
the emergency department at two in the evening feels like a beehive someone kicked. monitors chirp in uneven rhythms, stretchers rattle past with loose wheels that squeal against the tile, santos and langdon argue for the tenth time in an hour, and you stand right in the middle of it with a big smile.
you’ve always loved your job. even when it meant eight straight years of school. nights spent bent over anatomy textbooks while your roommates got dressed for the bars. even when med school felt like someone had taken your brain out of your skull and wrung it dry. you loved it. you loved the moment something finally clicked. the way a diagnosis stopped being a puzzle and started making sense.
now you’re a second-year resident and technically a doctor, even though sometimes the word still catches in your throat when someone says it out loud. the emergency department is exhausting and overwhelming and perfect.
“no, look,” you insist, tapping the chart with the end of your pen. “if his potassium was actually that high, he’d look way worse than this. always check for hemolysis before you panic.”
ogilvie blinks from across you. he runs a hand through his tousled hair and nods curtly. “oh,” he says faintly, internally freaking out because he was the top of his class at whatever school he went to and he wasn’t supposed to mess up.
you grin, knowing that feeling all too well. “hey, don’t get down on yourself. with time comes wisdom. you’ll get used to it.” you promise, giving him a comforting pat on the shoulder. you scribble something quick on the chart and hand it back to him before he scurries off.
you’re already turning back to the computer when you pat the counter beside you automatically, searching for something that isn’t there. your hand lands on the cold desk and you frown. “…damn.”
dana glances over. “what’s up, kid?” she tilts her head, looking above the top of her glasses.
“forgot my coffee this morning,” you sigh, already pulling up another chart. “i was already here before i realized.”
“rookie mistake.” she tsks, already looking up at the patient board again.
“i know,” you mutter, pinching the bridge of your nose. “this shift might kill me.” you say casually, fingers clicking against the keyboard again.
three feet to your left, jack abbott hears every word. he’s leaning against the far counter pretending to review a chart he finished five minutes ago. his eyes lift the second you say forgot my coffee. he continues watching you—like always. you’re talking again now, explaining something to a student doctor javadi, gesturing with your pen, hair slightly messy from the start of a long shift. you laugh at something perlah says and the sound carries toward him.
jack used to feel guilty for observing you. it would curl up the nape of his neck and plant itself there every time he realized he’d been watching you for longer than necessary. you were one of the best residents he’d ever seen, so naturally, like any other attending, he kept an eye on you (even though you technically were under dr. robby). still, the first few times he caught himself leaning against a counter across the department, eyes following the way you moved from patient to patient, he’d look away immediately. like he’d been caught doing something he couldn’t quite justify.
now it’s just routine. jack walks into the department and his eyes find you automatically. across the room, down the hall, wherever you’ve planted yourself in the middle of the noise. he tells himself it’s habit. just keeping track of a resident. but the truth is simpler than that.
“abbott.” he looks over, snapping out of whatever trance overtook him. robby, his longtime friend and coworker, raises an eyebrow. “you’ve been staring at her for like…three minutes. blink, brother.”
jack glances back at you. you’re still talking, still smiling, still completely unaware. “…was reading the chart,” he grumbles, scratching the back of his neck.
robby snorts, fingers drumming against the tabletop. they’ve known each other long enough to call bullshit. “whatever keeps you going.”
jack sets the chart down with a huff and pushes off the counter. he taps his pocket, feeling the cold weight of his phone, and murmurs, “gonna make a call.”
robby stifles a laugh, shaking his head briefly before assisting dr. mckay with her patient.
~
about twenty minutes later, you’re halfway through typing a note when a paper coffee cup slides quietly into your line of sight. you pause, blinking like it’s a figment of your imagination, before looking up.
dr. jack abbott stands on the other side of the station, one hand braced on the counter, the other nudging the coffee toward you. he’s wearing a black scrub top that squeezes his juicy biceps, and acting pretty casually for someone who’s not supposed to be working yet.
your eyes flick between the cup and him. “did someone get this for me?” you ask, fluttering your lashes at him subconsciously.
jack stares at you. his mind runs blank. behind you, princess slowly swivels her chair to watch. jack drags a hand down his face. “yeah,” he says flatly. “somebody did.”
you nod thoughtfully. you should ask who or where it came from, but you’re running on fumes. “okay.” you pick up the coffee, pressing your lips against the lid and taking a generous sip. jack watches you drink it like a man waiting for a verdict, his finger tapping against his thigh. your shoulders relax instantly. you hum quietly. “this is really good.”
jack exhales through his nose. “glad you approve,” he murmurs, biting back a smirk. call him a creep, but he’s the only person in the department that can get your coffee order correct down to a T.
you finally glance up again, eyebrows lifting like you’ve only just remembered he exists. “wait,” you say. “you’re here early.”
jack tilts his head slightly, pursing his lips. “that bother you?” his voice is lower than before, causing butterflies to erupt in your stomach.
“no,” you say quickly, ignoring the tingly sensation in your stomach. truth be told, you’re never bothered to see him. “you just usually come in later.”
he shrugs, crossing his arms over his broad chest. it’s a losing battle to keep your eyes on his. “couldn’t sleep.”
dana snorts from behind you, shaking her head while dialing a number on the phone. she bites her tongue, choosing peace for once. jack doesn’t take his eyes off of you, ignoring dana’s antics entirely.
you groan sympathetically. “that’s the worst. i always have melatonin with me if you need it.”
jack’s mouth twitches. a flush forms from his cheeks to the tips of his ears. still, his gaze stays glued on you. “i’ll keep that in mind.”
with a smile, you turn back to the computer, already clicking through charts again, and attempting to calm your nerves. you grip the poor coffee cup, hoping jack doesn’t notice your skin is hot to the touch.
finally, he begrudgingly leaves to assist on a patient down the hall. when he’s out of sight, dana, who stands besides you, leans closer. “you know he bought that for you, right?”
you frown at your chart. “abbot?” you glance up at her, brows furrowed. she nods her head, widening her eyes like ‘wasn’t it obvious?’ you glance over your shoulder toward the hallway he disappeared down. “yeah, but he’s just nice. he’d do it for anyone.” you insist, scratching the top of your head.
dana stares at you like she’s trying to solve a complex neurological condition. “sure…” she finally says.
you just shrug, taking another sip of your coffee because that has to be the reason. right? why else would he buy you the coffee? you close your eyes, shaking the thoughts out of your head because…no way. meanwhile, somewhere down the hall, jack abbott is absolutely losing his mind.
{ TWO }
hour five is always the worst, in your opinion. close enough to the middle of your shift that you should feel motivated, but not quite there. not enough to push you through. just enough time for the exhaustion to settle in your bones and stay.
you’re in bay four with a chart tucked under your arm. the elderly woman on the stretcher looks small under the hospital blanket, silver hair falling loose around her shoulders. her ankle is already swelling beneath the thin sheet and she keeps apologizing every few seconds for something that wasn’t her fault.
“hey,” you murmur gently, crouching slightly so she doesn’t have to crane her neck to see you. “no apologies. gravity gets the best of all of us.”
she laughs softly at that. “i tripped on the rug,” she explains again. “my daughter keeps telling me to get rid of it.” her lips pull downward as she continues. “but it’s just so beautiful.”
you nod while carefully pressing along her ankle, fingers gentle but firm as you check for tenderness. “nothing wrong with enjoying art,” you say lightly. your thumb presses along the swollen joint and she winces just a little. you soften your touch immediately. “even if it occasionally decides to fight back.” she smiles in response.
behind you, jack stands close enough that his shoulder nearly brushes yours when you shift. robby got pulled into something more serious ten minutes ago, and jack (who once again is here before the start of his shift) stepped in without much explanation besides a quiet, i’ll help you with this one. you didn’t question it.
jack watches the way you explain each movement before you touch the patient. the way your voice softens slightly when she winces. the way your hands move with that careful confidence that only comes from repetition. you’re good at this. he already knew that, but still.
“alright,” you say after a moment, straightening slightly. “i’m gonna order an x-ray just to be safe, okay?”
the woman nods, commenting something about you being a doll. then, her eyes flick between you and jack. a slow smile spreads across her face. “aren’t you two just the sweetest together.” you both freeze. “such a nice couple,” she continues warmly. “working side by side like that.”
your brain stutters. “oh-” you start, laughing nervously. jack’s mouth twitches, but he doesn’t flinch. you shoot him a quick look before turning back to the patient. “we’re not-”
the woman waves her hand dismissively. “no need to explain, dear.”
jack lets out a quiet chuckle behind you. it’s low and amused and extremely unhelpful. you clear your throat, suddenly very focused on the color of your pen ink. “we just work together.”
the woman hums like she heard you and chose not to believe it. well,” she says sweetly, glancing at jack, “he looks at you very nicely.”
your face heats instantly. you pretend to adjust the blanket around her ankle so you don’t have to respond. jack goes very still beside you. the room stays quiet for a beat before you say, a little too brightly, “okay! we’ll get that x-ray and see what’s going on.”
you scribble something on the chart and step toward the door. jack follows. the second you’re out in the hallway, you exhale like you’ve been holding your breath. “oh my god.” jack laughs softly in response. you glance at him. “you could’ve said something.”
“about what.” he feigns innocence.
“the couple thing.”
jack shrugs, hands slipping casually into the pockets of his scrub pants. “didn’t seem necessary.”
you stare at him. your eyes are wide and mouth agape. “it was embarrassing.”
jack tilts his head slightly, studying you for a second longer than necessary. then he says, voice low and teasing, “i didn’t mind playing your boyfriend for a few minutes.”
your brain stalls. you stare at him like he spoke a different language. jack watches the exact moment the words land. the faint color climbing up your neck. the way the floor tiles suddenly call your attention. his mouth curves slightly.
you clear your throat once again. he definitely didn’t mean it like that. jack abbot is many things, including a vigorous flirt. he’s just trying to fluster you. “i’m sure you’d do it for anyone,” you say weakly, turning toward the nurses’ station, “i-i,” cough, “have to, to go do something.”
jack moves to the side, motioning for you to walk. “go ahead,” he murmurs, but he’s smiling.
{ THREE }
the ambulance bay doors swing shut behind you with a hollow metallic clang. outside, the air is colder than it looked through the glass. it slips straight through the thin fabric of your scrubs, raising goosebumps along your arms almost instantly. your hands brace against the cool metal railing and you stare out into the dark parking lot like it might answer the questions still bouncing around your head.
the case had gone bad fast. too fast. one minute the patient had been talking. the next minute the room filled with voices and hands and alarms screaming over each other. someone calling for another unit of blood. someone else pushing meds. robby barking orders across the bed. you’d done everything right.
your shift ended an hour ago. by now, you should’ve been cuddled up with a hot cup of tea and your favorite fluffy socks and maybe a nice book. but after…that…you couldn’t leave. you offered to help the transition into the night shift and assist with some cases. it was enough to keep your mind off of it until now.
your jaw tightens. you take another slow breath, trying to push the noise out of your head. the ambulance bay door opens again behind you, but you don’t have the strength to turn around. heavy footsteps approach, steady and familiar, until someone stops beside you.
jack rests his forearms on the railing beside you. for a second, neither of you speak. he glances sideways, taking a deep breath. the brisk air burns his throat. you’re staring straight ahead, shoulders tense, lips pressed together like you’re trying very hard not to let the thoughts spill out.
jack knows that look. he’s spent way too long memorizing it. “hey,” he says quietly, bumping his shoulder against yours. you hum in response, which is about the most energy you can spare. jack watches you for another moment. “you did good in there.”
you shake your head slightly, inhaling sharply. “we lost him.”
jack sighs, nodding. “sometimes we do.”
you stare harder at the parking lot. “that doesn’t mean it doesn’t suck.” you mutter, tears pooling at your waterline.
that pulls the faintest huff of a laugh out of him. “yeah,” he says. “that’s the official medical term.” you shake your head, a small smile threatening at the corner of your mouth before it disappears again.
the wind picks up slightly. you shift your weight. jack’s eyes fall to your arms. they’re crossed loosely over your stomach, bumps covering every inch of skin. your shoulders hunch just a little to tell that you’re shivering. he straightens slightly. “hold on.” he says with a tight-lipped smile.
you glance at him. “wha-” but he’s already pushing off the railing before you can finish. you watch him disappear back through the ambulance bay doors with a small frown. he probably got sick of watching you mope. you scoff, kicking yourself mentally because he’s the chief attending and you’re standing here burdening him with your emotional issues.
about a minute later the door swings open again. jack steps back outside to find you in the same position as before. this time, something dark is slung over his arm. you blink as he walks back over and holds it out. a gray zip-up sweatshirt lies in his extended hands.
you stare at it, not moving. “what’s this?” you ask, even though it’s pretty obvious. you’ve never seen him wear the fabric. you’ve only watched him saunter through the automatic doors, eyes intense, and sweatshirt in his hand as he prepares for the night shift.
jack lifts an eyebrow, motioning his hand toward you. “take it.” his voice is low and raspy.
you hesitate. “i’m fine.”
jack gives you a look. the kind that clearly says you’re absolutely not fine. “you’re shivering.” he simply states.
you glance down at your arms like you only just noticed. “…maybe a little.” your hands rub up and down against your arms. jack doesn’t move. the sweatshirt stays extended toward you. after a second, you sigh and take it. “thanks.” when you pull it on, the scent of musky cologne and him fill your senses. you breathe deeper, the smell like a drug. your brain catches up a bit later. “wait—are you gonna be cold?”
jack snorts quietly. “i’ll survive.”
you zip it up the rest of the way, the sleeves a little long over your hands. you fold your arms again, but this time it’s inside the sweatshirt. “thanks,” your voice is softer.
jack shrugs like it’s nothing. “don’t get used to it.”
you glance sideways at him. “you’re very grumpy for someone doing something nice.”
“i’m always grumpy.”
“debatable.”
jack looks at you. his eyes bore into yours, memorizing every detail he can of you. your shoulders have relaxed slightly. the tight line between your brows is gone. mission accomplished. “you should go home now.” he starts softly. “the day shift is all gone and we can handle the rest from here.” he urges.
after a moment, you clear your throat and nod. “i’ll bring this back tomorrow.”
he shakes his head. “keep it.” he says it like it’s no big deal. like he’s not your boss and he’s not lending you a sweatshirt in an oddly intimate way. before you can argue, he says, “you forget things,” he’s already turning toward the door. “figure this way you’ve got a spare.”
you stare at him and just laugh. “that seems like a terrible system.” your shoulders move as you giggle. after the night you’ve had, this is the funniest scenario ever.
jack glances back over his shoulder. his mouth curves slightly. “works for me.” he disappears back inside before you can respond. you stand there for another moment, wrapped in his sweatshirt, staring at the ambulance bay doors.
your fingers curl into the sleeves, fabric bunching around your hands, still warm from him. it sits heavier on your shoulders than it should. you exhale slowly, shaking your head to yourself, a small, tired smile tugging at your lips.
he’s probably just used to this. used to residents stepping out after bad cases, quiet and shaken and trying to hold it together. used to knowing exactly what to say, what to do. how to fix it just enough to get you back on your feet.
you huff out a soft breath, pushing yourself off the railing. “yeah,” you murmur under your breath, already turning toward the doors. “he’s just good at his job.”
{ + ONE }
the bar is loud. a different type of loud than you’re used to. instead of the sharp, frantic noise of the ER, it’s the warmth of conversation and light jokes. robby makes a toast, glasses clink, and drinks are tipped back. the day shift claimed a long stretch of tables near the back. someone dragged two together at some point. chairs are half pulled out, people shifting and talking over each other like no one’s had a full thought all day and now they finally can.
you’re next to samira with one leg tucked under your chair, and your drink sweating in your hand. “i’m telling you,” samira says, covering her mouth to giggle before she even gets the words out. “dr. robby is hot.”
you gasp, choking on your drink before barking out in laughter. “i mean…i can see it.” you say quietly. she raises an eyebrow. you pause. “ok…of course he is.” you rephrase. “he’s just not my usual type.”
beside you, perlah and princess chuckle, pretending that they aren’t eavesdropping.
“what you mean is,” samira takes a swig of her drink before finishing. “he’s not jack abbot.”
you swear you almost drop your glass. “keep your voice down!” you hiss, looking over both shoulders to see if anyone heard.
“it’s not like it’s a secret!” she argues, barely containing her laughter. “you both like each other and you’re both too dense to see it.”
“i would know if someone liked me.” you insist, swirling your straw around in your glass. the ice cubes clink with each stir.
she rolls her eyes, nudging you with her elbow. “yet, you’re the only one who doesn’t.” she huffs out a laugh, shaking her head.
the conversation shifts again after that. someone across the table starts complaining about charting, whittaker gets louder, joy says something dry that makes half the table go quiet for a second before laughing. this is the part of the job makes everything else feel worth it.
you’re sitting quiet, listening to the chatter of samira and the occasional arguments of the med-students when a cool breeze brings goosebumps in its wake. you shiver, peaking over your shoulder.
jack abbott steps inside, pausing just past the threshold. he wasn’t planning on coming. it’s his night off. he told himself he’d stay home for once, maybe get a decent night’s sleep. maybe do something that didn’t revolve around the hospital. then robby mentioned called and drinks. then mentioned you’d be there, and here he is.
he scans the room once, finding you easily. he almost physically stumbles when he processes you. you’re laughing at something samira said, head tipped slightly back, hair down around your shoulders instead of tied up like it always is. you traded your scrubs for a pair of jeans and a simple top that fit you in a way that should be illegal.
jack exhales slowly. right. this was a mistake. he runs a hand over the back of his neck, debating turning around and walking right back out. instead, he straightens slightly and makes his way over. he doesn’t go to you first. mostly because he’s nervous and he’s sporting a semi-hard that needs to go down.
he stops by the end of the table, nodding at everyone, and engaging in conversation with robby. dana gives him a knowing look that he pointedly ignores. “thought you had the night off,” she says, blatantly interrupting robby.
“i do.” he crosses his arms.
“and yet.” dana motions to the room and where he stands.
jack shrugs, casual. “heard there were drinks.” dana hums like she doesn’t believe him for a second. she glances past him, toward you, and then back. jack pretends not to notice. he lingers there longer than necessary, letting himself get pulled into the edge of a conversation he’s not really listening to. how could he listen when you’re there looking like that?
he’s aware of you in a way that hinders his ability to interact. the sound of your voice cutting through the noise. the way you gesture when you talk. the way you lean into samira, laughing at something under your breath. he drags his gaze away, but it always comes back. he’s metal being pulled into your magnetic field.
finally, he pushes off from the end of the table. he circles the group until he’s right behind you. he can hear you clearly now, even smell your perfume.
“you always this loud?” he asks, voice cutting cleanly into your conversation, “or is this a special occasion?”
you freeze. samira’s eyes go wide for half a second before she bites her lip to keep from laughing. slowly—slowly—you turn your head. up close, he looks even better than he did from across the room. you can see his features clearly. the stubble beard he bother shaving, his salt and peppered curls, and that hardened look that always melts you. could he be anymore perfect?
your brain stutters. “i’m not loud,” you retort, which is immediately a lie.
jack raises an eyebrow. “no?” he asks, voice low, amused. “could’ve fooled me.”
samira lets out a quiet snort beside you. you shoot her a look before turning back to him, narrowing your eyes slightly. “maybe you’re just eavesdropping.”
“maybe you’re just easy to overhear.”
you open your mouth, then close it. you can barely breathe the way he’s still looking at you, never mind forming coherent sentences. you swallow. “what are you doing here?” you ask, tone lower.
jack shrugs, one hand settling on the back of your chair. your back brushes his fingers when you lean closer. “thought i’d see what you all look like outside the hospital.”
your stomach flips. samira makes a noise that sounds suspiciously like oh my god. “and?” you ask, lifting your chin slightly. “what’s the verdict?”
jack’s gaze drags over you in an antagonizing slow manner. it starts at your face, and dips before coming back up. your breath catches.
he hums. “undecided.”
samira chokes on her drink. “i need another round,” she blurts, already sliding out of her seat. she grabs princess and perlah by the wrist and drags the with her before you can even process what just happened.
traitors.
you’re suddenly very aware of the empty chairs beside you, and the fact that jack doesn’t move away. if anything, he moves closer. “so,” you say, clearing your throat, trying to ignore the way your heart is picking up speed. “night off?”
“yeah.”
“and you chose to spend it here.”
“seems that way.”
you huff a quiet laugh, glancing down at your drink (because if you don’t you’ll stare at him arms). “we’re honored.”
jack’s mouth twitches. “you should be.” he lowers his voice to a gruff sound. that has to be his bedroom voice, you think. you look back up at him, rolling your eyes, but there’s no heat behind it.
he watches you for a second longer than necessary before finally dropping into the chair samira abandoned like it was always his. your knee brushes his and neither of you move. you take a sip of your drink just to give your hands something to do. jack doesn’t look away. he leans back slightly in his chair, one arm draped behind you like it belongs there.
you clear your throat. “so,” you say, glancing at him, “you just haunt bars on your nights off now?”
jack huffs quietly. “only the ones you’re in.”
your brain trips over itself for half a second. you recover fast. mostly. “that’s…concerning.”
“yeah,” he nods. “i’ve been told.”
you shake your head, trying not to smile into your drink. the liquor warms your throat, giving you some much needed confidence. neither of you move. you glance down at your glass again, tracing the rim with your finger. “they’re short on night shift,” you say after a second. “again.”
jack’s attention sharpens. he notes the way your voice lowers. you don’t want anyone else at the table to hear. “yeah,” he nods, pouring himself a beer from the pitcher on the table. “we are.”
you look up at him through your lashes and he has to adjust his pants. you stall, questioning if this is the right time or place to talk about this. finally, you exhale. “i was thinking about maybe switching over for a bit,” you continue, shrugging one shoulder. “just temporarily. try something different.”
almost immediately, he replies, “you should.”
you blink, stifling a laugh. “that was fast.”
he doesn’t even try to backtrack. “you’d be good over there.”
you tilt your head slightly. “you don’t even know what i’d be like on nights.”
“yeah, i do.”
your brows lift. “you’ve never seen me on nights.”
“don’t need to.”
you bite the inside of your cheek to calm yourself. you feel tingly all over. “you’re very confident.” you say, avoiding eye contact with him.
“i’m usually right.”
“debatable.”
“not about this.” there’s a quiet certainty in his voice that makes it hard to brush off.
you shift slightly in your seat. “i just-” you sigh. “i don’t know how robby’s gonna feel about it. i feel like he’s gonna think i’m abandoning day shift or something.” you ramble. “and-”
jack leans forward now, thick forearms resting on the table. “robby won’t be mad at you,” he interrupts with no room for discussion.
you glance at him. “you say that like you speak for him.”
“i’ve known him longer than you,” jack replies easily. “he’s not gonna hold you back.” you nod slowly, but your not convinced. “he likes you,” jack adds.
your lips twitch. “he likes everyone.”
jack shakes his head slightly. “he admires you.” he corrects himself.
your eyes flick back to his. there’s something in his tone that makes your chest tighten again. you look down quickly. “i just don’t want it to be weird,” you say, softer now.
jack watches you for a second. then leans in just a little more. “it won’t be,” he says. he’s close enough that you can feel his breath fanning against your skin. your breath catches. after a moment, he straightens again. “we can talk more about it over dinner.” he states in a matter of fact tone.
you nearly choke. your brain tries to file that under professional—it doesn’t match. “…what?”
jack’s mouth curves slightly. “dinner,” he repeats, like it’s obvious. like you’re the one lagging behind.
you stare at him. that didn’t sound like just a friendly request. your heart starts picking up. “like…with the team?” you ask, clinging to logic.
jack’s gaze doesn’t waver. “no.”
your stomach drops. “…just us?”
“that’s usually how dates go, no?” he smirks. there’s no hesitation.
everything clicks at once. the realization flashes across your eyes in series of memories. the coffee, the sweatshirt, the way he shows up early, and the way he watches you like you’re the only thing in the room. your breath catches. “you’re asking me on a date?” you ask like you had to say it out loud for it to process.
jack’s smile deepens. “took you long enough.”
your heart stutters. “wait-” you sit up straighter, staring at him. “you’re serious?”
jack leans in slightly, voice low. “i asked you to dinner.”
your pulse jumps. “i thought you meant like talking about the shift-”
“we can talk about the shift,” he nods, taking a sip of his glass. his eyes flick down to your lips for a split second before coming back up. “doesn’t have to be the only thing.”
oh.
oh.
your face heats. you look away, then back, like you don’t know where to land. “you’ve been-” you shake your head slightly, almost laughing. “this whole time?”
“pretty much.”
you huff out a disbelieving breath. “i thought you were just-” you stop yourself.
jack raises an eyebrow. “just what.”
you groan, dropping your head into your hand for a second. “i don’t know…normal.”
that actually makes him laugh real low. “this is me being normal?”
you peek at him. “apparently not.” you lower your hand slowly, looking at him again. your heart is still racing, but you don’t hate it. “you’re bold,” you say quietly.
jack’s mouth curves. “only when it counts.”
your stomach twists again. you shake your head slightly, smiling despite yourself. “and you just assumed i’d say yes?”
“no.” he shrugs simply.
the honesty catches you off guard. “then why ask?”
jack holds your gaze. “because i wanted to.” he murmurs. “figured you were worth the risk.”
you stare at him for a second longer, tilting your head like it might help you figure him out better. “…ok.” it slips out before you can overthink it.
jack tilts his head slightly. “ok?”
you nod, a little more certain now. “yes, i’ll go out with you.”
a boyish grin takes over his face. it may have taken months of what he thought was obvious flirting, hundreds spent on overpriced coffees, and more self-control than he’d ever admit out loud, but he got there. now you’re sitting in front of him, cheeks warm, eyes a little wide, finally seeing him the way he’s been seeing you all along.
BEIGE N' BROWN DIVIDERS || Color series 03 › Request
✰ USAGE RULES .ᐟ Please credit @angeliicide in the post you use my work! You may also credit me in your pinned or somewhere else visible on your blog. Please do not reupload or alter my dividers.
♡ note: art credit goes to @/alleesaur. as stated here, the artist allows reposts as long as credit is given! i was turning this dynamic around and around in my mind of bunny/rabbit!rabbot and their unsettling hare!partner
♡ pairing: jack abbot x gn reader x michael “robby” robinavitch
♡ word count: .9k
JACK ABBOT AS…THE BUNNY.
Soft and fluffy are by no means words that would ever be used to describe Jack Abbot. He is a battle hardened war veteran, a former combat medic. He has first-hand experience of the atrocities and the devastation that always accompany war and violence. He lives with the proof of it every single day, the lack of part of his leg an ever-present reminder of the costs of war.
For years now, Jack has taken on the role as the current night shift attending of the ER department at PTMC, a position that requires him to make split-second decisions at the drop of a hat when it comes to his patients’ care. He’s the one that others turn to for guidance, the one who ultimately has to make the hard decisions that others can’t.
So no, when one thinks of Jack Abbot, the adjectives of soft and fluffy aren’t exactly the first words that come to mind to describe the man.
But out of the three of you, Jack is by far the most agreeable. Jack and Robby are birds of a feather, night and day, two sides of the same coin. However, doctors and nurses alike would agree that Jack is the more approachable of the two, the more even-tempered and level-headed one. He’s quick with a sharp-witted quip that prompts others to roll their eyes and huff, unfortunately amused with him. He’s unafraid to provide criticism even if it may be difficult for his residents to hear, but he’s also free with his praise, ensuring that, at the end of the day, they understand that they’re doing good work, that he thinks they’re doing well.
MICHAEL “ROBBY” ROBINAVITCH AS…THE RABBIT.
In comparison to Jack, Robby is a little more…prickly, to say the least. As the day shift attending of the ER department at PTMC, Robby does his best, there’s absolutely no denying that he’s an exceptionable doctor, but there’s a certain weariness that never seems to leave him, a weight on his shoulders as heavy as the burden that Atlas himself is forced to bear that never seems to lighten. He’s grown resigned to the system that exists and the bureaucratic bullshit that prevents any positive changes from ever occurring. Robby is jaded, through and through.
Maybe, it’s because of all the years he’s worked in the Pitt. All the things he’s witnessed, all the patients that he’s treated. The ones he fails, that he loses, always stick with him, long after they’ve entered the Pitt, only to exit those doors in a body bag. He tosses and turns their cases in his mind on the nights he can’t sleep, which is nearly every night, going through a play-by-play of his actions and the decisions he made. He wonders if he did something different, if he was better, faster, smarter, if things would have turned out differently.
Robby has a good heart. He’s a good man, but he can’t see past himself sometimes. He’s so stuck in his own head and in the mistakes that he’s made that he can’t focus on what’s in front of him. He can’t see his residents for who they are rather he sees too much of himself in some of them and wishes he didn’t. So he prods and pushes and lashes out at people who don’t deserve it.
Robby will admit that he can be a real son of a bitch when he wants to be.
YOU AS…THE HARE.
Now, you…you’re an odd one. Maybe it’s the nature of your work as a pathologist whose speciality lies within autopsy, but others in the ED tend to find you unsettling. Nobody can say that you’re unkind or cruel because you’re not, not by any means, but there’s something about you that feels off.
Trinity Santos has nicknamed you Dr. Death, and well, she’s not exactly wrong. Whenever you come up from the basement where the hospital’s morgue is located and enter the Pitt, it’s like a hush falls over the room, even though the bustling nature of Pittsburgh’s Trauma Medical Center’s Emergency Room never truly ceases. You’re quiet, silent enough with your movements that you tend to give others a fright when they finally take notice of you, standing, waiting in their periphery. As they try and recover from the shock of your unexpected presence, you simply tilt your head, and, with wide unblinking eyes, apologize for startling them. Sometimes, they’ve already hastily dismissed themselves from the interaction before you’re able to get the words out. The reaction isn’t unusual. People in the ED know what your presence signifies, and it is never anything pleasant.
You truly don’t understand where you go wrong when interacting with others. You try your best to be polite and respectful, even attempting to make idle conversation with your colleagues sometimes, but it somehow always goes awry. All you know is that people tend to scatter, giving you a wide berth, whenever your presence is made known in the ER. This is why you enjoy working with the deceased more than the living. The deceased are far less complicated than living, breathing beings. At least with the deceased, they won’t spurn your attempts at conversation.
Jack and Robby make sense together. A little unexpected, but ultimately, after thinking it over, they make a good amount of sense as a pair. Now, throw you into the mix? Nobody really gets it. At all. They can’t wrap their heads around how you fit into the dynamic. You’re a wildcard they can’t figure out. But, they don’t need to. Jack and Robby love you all the same.
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