Natendo-art

Natalie | 34 | She/them | Artist | Michael "Robby" Robinavitch | Jack Abbot | The Pitt | Rabbot | Comms open. email: [email protected]

[natendo-art]

Hi everyone!

I’m Natalie ☺️

A freelance digital artist from Scotland

I am deep in my Pitt era 🙏🏻💕

.

Commissions: open

patreon:

Natendo_art | Patreon

creating Digital art

I do also create nsfw art, which is exclusive to my Patreon 💕

vgen:

Natendo_art (@Natendo_art)

Check out Natendo_art's commissions and portfolio! | Hello! I am Natalie (Natendo) a freelance artist who loves to draw fanart and ocs 🥺🙏🏻💕

[natendo-art]

One thing I know for certain, is that I will never be worth it.

[natendo-art]

Sorry for being more quiet recently.

Life sucks.

It seems like everytime I experience any hope or joy. It is ripped away almost immediately.

I am so tired and so done.

But I will to be more productive with art. It's literally the only thing that gives me worth atp

[da-pitt]

[hrast-ika]

hey @faxcollector i think i found the gif you were looking for

[lavenderdreams205]

jack/robby dom/sub dynamic, but one of jack's hard limits is hurting robby, so when robby needs punished, jack just makes him say three nice things about himself in the mirror

[speechless-typewriter]

Rabbot - birthday gift of a photo album

Robby was never used to celebrating his birthday, let alone receiving gifts. Now that Jack finally found his way into Robby's life, he took it upon himself to show just how much Robby deserved his love and everything more.

—

Robby doesn’t have a childhood photo album. 

The first time he learnt that this was a thing was in fourth grade, at a friend’s birthday party. Their parents brought out a family photo album and showed the kids sitting around the dining table — this was them at three years old tripping over a scooter, this was them graduating kindergarten, first time at the zoo crying ugly tears being scared of the tiger — while Robby’s friend tried to fight back the embarrassment of being exposed by the impromptu conversation that the anecdotes triggered, Robby’s gaze lingered. Memories documented in such detail was a concept so foreign to him, and what his friend saw as being put on the spot in front of their friends, all Robby saw was a childhood full of love and a kid cared for enough for ordinary things to become memorable. 

He was too young to suppress the tiny flicker of longing for something remotely similar taking root in his little heart, but he was old enough to know that it wasn’t a good idea to dwell on these thoughts. He had a roof over his head. He had food to eat and clothes that fit. And even if there were days he cried silent tears facing the wall on his small twin bed, he would tell himself that he had enough. That his bubbe took him in when she didn’t have to. That he should be grateful. That he should require nothing more than what she could offer. 

Robby spent his school years teaching himself to occupy the right amount of space. To hold himself in a way that was just tall enough to be acknowledged and not particularly noticed. And when untended emotions left alone for too long threatened to surface, he pushed them down and tucked them away in a box, the lid made up from the phrases he knew too well by heart. 

Don’t be too much, don’t need too much, and don’t hope for too much. 

That was exactly what Robby told himself as he prepared and packed his bags for med school. He didn’t have a lot of things. And among those things he had less that he allowed himself to call his own. 

But he did have photos. Seven of them, to be exact. All different sizes, some faded and a bit wrinkled on the edges, like that of his mom that his bubbe gave him, reluctantly after a night of confusion and tears, and the one of him as a baby, staring into the camera with eyes so big he often wondered what he was thinking back then. 

There were other ones, newer and the images more crisp — four of which was given to him by friends or their families. Not exactly photos of him, but more like photos with him in it. Memories that he participated in and happened to be captured with the main characters. People kind enough to give them to him after the film developed. He grabbed a brown paper envelop to put them in, one by one, putting his favorite photo last on the top of the thin deck — the only one he had of him and his bubbe. It was taken on his twelfth birthday, his bubbe asking a favor from his neighbor using their camera. Robby was sitting sideways on her lap in the photo, one foot on the edge of the chair to balance out his weight because he was a growing boy who was afraid that he was too heavy for his bubbe to bear. She was smiling at the camera, and Robby was looking at her. Not exactly smiling, but happy. Happy enough for a kid that had already lost the privilege of being a kid for some time. 

—

He was never a fan of birthdays. When he was younger it reminded too much of what he didn’t have, and as he trickled into his adult years it became an old habit of being totally comfortable of not being in the center of attention. 

That, all changed when Jack came into his life. Robby never explicitly told him the reason why he hated making a deal out of his birthday, and Jack being Jack, understood enough not to probe. But he made sure from the start that Robby didn’t spend the day alone. It began from a casual “do you want to watch [whatever game is on that day] after your shift”, and they would eat takeout, drink a beer or two like they often did any other day, and Jack would never mention anything about the significance of that particular day, whatsoever.

Robby appreciated it. He appreciated it more than words could describe, because only Jack knew how to leave enough room for Robby to not be self-conscious of his company, but at the same time, stay close enough to fill up that emptiness he was too scared to name. Jack managed to ease into his habits in ways Robby only realized after it had happened, and throughout the years, with the patience held only by someone who loved another dearly and quietly, or someone who was secretly gifted in taming very easily startled animals, Jack had managed to morph the itinerary of Robby’s birthday from a casual hangout to nice dinners out, activities that happened to exist on the same day, to a decade later, coming to Robby’s and cooking an elaborate dinner for him with dessert that suggest the least amount of resemblance to a birthday cake. 

And now, a few months into them crossing the bridge and moving in together, Jack had made it his business to start introducing the bizarre concept of gift-giving. 

They had just finished dinner and settled in the sofa, Robby’s body loose and buzzing from the abundance of sugar Jack had snucked into the chocolate panna cotta that was apparently also making him emotionally pliable. Because Robby was just now noticing the rectangular object sitting on the coffee table, wrapped neatly by someone who also had the audacity to put a gold bow on it. 

“What is this?”

“This,” Jack drawled, not bothering to hide the fond amusement in his voice, his arm coming across the back of the couch and landing on the nape of Robby’s neck, “is what common folks call a gift.”

Robby stared at him. With those big doe eyes that made it more than acceptable to say that he looked like a deer in the headlights. 

“Would you like to open it?”

Robby kept staring.

“Hey.” Jack’s voice softened, his hand gently squeezing the back of Robby’s neck, his go-to Robby-soothing gesture in moments like these. 

“I know we said no gifts, but this is technically not a gift for you, it’s a gift for us. It just happened to need you to reveal it for us.” Jack paused, letting that settle in. 

“Do you think you can do us the honor, sweetheart?” 

Robby blinked. He was not mentally prepared for this. As much as he wanted to curl into himself and disappear into his tangled emotions that had been summoned by this situation, the gentleness in Jack’s voice made it hard to think about disappointing him.

As Robby gingerly reached out to the wrapped package, wearing an expression of someone bracing for impact, Jack thought about the conversation he had with Robby, all those years ago, when he asked him what he wanted for his birthday. Robby had looked so scared and startled that Jack sensed there was something buried underneath that Robby was not ready to confide yet. It was later, after talking to Dana and Adamson and bonding over shared love for the same person, that he got a glimpse into what Robby had went through as a kid. Even Adamson had only been told pieces of the story, him being the person closest to stepping into Robby’s orbit. 

They all loved Robby. And they all understood that Robby needed time to be comfortable with letting himself be loved. And probably more time for him to believe that he was deserving of all the love they gave to him unconditionally. But they were willing to wait, especially Jack. Especially after Adamson passed and Dana had more on her plate. Jack was determined to show him all his love from the sidelines until Robby felt ready to come to him. 

And here he was. 

Right next to him. 

Holding the gift that hopefully would convince him more of just how lovable and deserving of love he was. 

“Jack…” Barely a whisper. Robby was looking down at the unwrapped gift, his brown eyes bright and face so soft that Jack wanted nothing more than cradle him in his arms and never let go.

Sitting in Robby’s lap, was a photo album. 

Jack had spent months putting it together, digging through old files and learning about negative films and photography jargon that he never thought he would need one day. But he had wanted to do this for Robby for a very long time. Ever since Robby showed him the handful of photos he had of his childhood and Jack had tried very hard to hold back his tears as his heart ached for him. For a child forced to grow up in a fortnight. For a child who grew up without people having the capacity to celebrate his every milestone. For a child that learnt too quickly to not need what he required. For the child that was still inside Robby, who Jack longed to reach through and hug him and tell him that he was not alone. 

And he got to, in this way. 

Robby was flipping through the album now, quiet and nearly reverent. Jack turned and placed a gentle kiss on his temple, before he rested his head on Robby’s shoulder, gazing down at the photos together. 

Med-school Robby, smiling at the camera, stethoscope around his neck. Robby in his 20s, laughing, a real toothy laugh that Jack found incredibly endearing. A single photo that Jack was lucky enough to find of Robby in his MSF days. More of Robby as a young doctor, wearing the same serious expression he still did decades later in trauma rooms. 

“Oh.” Robby let out a breath, his thumb brushing against the plastic film covering the photo of a younger version of him standing next to Adamson. Robby mid-30s, tall, confident, eyes determined. Adamson looking up at him, smiling, eyes soft, proud. Next to it, photo of them sitting together in discussion. Another page of Robby standing and watching Adamson as he lectured. Adamson patting him on the shoulder while Robby laughed. 

“How on earth…” Robby looked towards Jack, his eyes red around the edges.

“With lots of help and some favors promised.” Jack’s finger brushed against Robby’s, tracing over the figure of a younger Robby in scrubs. “Look at you.” He said softly, watching the color blossom on Robby’s cheeks. “Just as handsome.”

Robby’s breath caught, eyelids fluttered as he made an attempt to say something, gave up and went back to the album. 

Jack let him. He had all the time in the world. And Robby didn’t need to say anything out loud for Jack to hear him.

—

The next section was getting closer to where they were now. Robby growing out a beard, as the chief attending. Robby presenting at donor meetings. Robby in his element in the ER.

And Robby with Jack. Both of them a decade or so younger, talking to each other at the nurse station. Robby and Jack at conferences together, smiling at the camera. Robby and Jack doing handovers, talking to student doctors, giving instructions. 

“And…that’s when I inserted myself into your life.” Jack mused, his eyes catching Robby’s and he could tell Robby was thinking about those days as well. The way his eyes crinkled at the corners and warmth settled into his expression. 

“I knew you were gonna be trouble the day you walked into the trauma room with that smirk and snapped on those gloves like you owned the place.”

“Well, I’m your trouble now.” 

“I’m having an emotionally vulnerable moment right now and all you do is tease.” Robby shook his head as he turned a page. “You never change.”

Seeing Robby take in the next section was a treat that Jack savored. He would never admit it but he shed more than a tear or two while he put the photos in. It was the most elaborated section, because it was where their story truly began.

And Jack had treasured every single moment of it.

There were selfies of them together. Photos that Jack took of Robby when he was unaware of it happening. Screenshots of texts that made him blush seeing them again. Coffee cups, plates of breakfasts, bowls of salads, but always in pairs. Because they existed as a pair now. Photos of random things that became their inside jokes. Robby sprawled on the floor after giving up on assembling their bookcase. Domestic Robby. Robby making faces. Sleeping. Robby on the toilet flipping off at Jack behind the camera. The last photo, a selfie of Jack with Robby brushing his teeth in the background, wearing only his boxers.

“Was that one really necessary.” Robby murmured under his breath.

“I wanted to capture every moment of you, of the life I’m sharing with you. Because no matter how mundane you think it is, to me, it is you there, with me, alive, and present. And that means so much to me, Robby.” 

“You can’t just say that…” Robby nudged him gently on the side, “All serious and that when I’m only made aware of a photo existing of me like this.”

“You should know that I played nice because I have many photos of you wearing less than that.”

“I hate you.”

“No you don’t.” Jack quipped with a smug grin. “You love me.”

“I do.” Robby huffed out a laugh, closing the photo album and putting it back on the table. His expression shifted as he turned towards Jack, fingers interlocking with his.

“Thank you. For the album, for the dinner, and all of this.” He kept his gaze on the album as he gestured between them with his other hand, flustered. “I don’t know how I deserve you.”

“Robby. Look at me.” Jack put some force into his voice, and that caught his attention. Robby stilled.

“I put this together because I want you to know that you’re cared for, that you’re loved. That of all people, you especially deserve something celebrating you. This is only the beginning — all the pages that’s left unfilled, that’s you. That’s us.” Jack’s used his hand on Robby’s neck to pull him close, their foreheads touching now.

“You came this far, and all I did was gather the evidence that each of your steps counted. And you won’t be in this alone anymore. You were never alone, baby.” 

Jack planted a soft kiss on the edge of Robby’s mouth. His nose brushed against Robby’s face, damp now. 

“I’m here. And I love you. So much. And I’ll be here no matter what, love you no matter what.” Jack paused, squeezing Robby’s neck to let the words sink in. His voice was rough as he continued.

“And the most important thing is, you deserve all of it, and so much more. And this here, this album, is that love made tangible for you to feel, to touch, to believe in.”

Jack pulled away to look into Robby’s eyes again. Somehow he was also crying now. But through the blurriness he could see Robby, his gaze fond, present, there. And for a brief second he could see a small boy with the same doe eyes staring back at him.

“You’ve got so many wonderful things to see, and so many people to love ahead of you.” He whispered quietly, hoping the words would reach beyond years and, for this time, stay.

[eyeneversleep]

Shh, they came together or its the awards ceremony/actors AU we didnt know we needed. 🤭💜🥹. Just...I can't. Look at them.

Thank you so much @megs-bee for your help on this!

[cokezerovape]

[kinned-the-evil]

Omega!Robby who’s had a long day and still has a few hours until his mate, alpha!jack comes for hand off. While he moves around the ED, in the back of his mind he’s thinking about his pups, specifically how much is going on with the family. Of his six pups his oldest is studying for the bar exam, his fifth is graduating high school, and his youngest is finishing middle school. And of course the ones n college are finishing up the year and coming back home if they went away for college. Omega Robby loves having his pups home but it’s still a lot going on.

He gets called into a room, being told it’s two pups who won’t give names and are injured. Not uncommon for pups in bad situations so he heads in to try and get an understanding of the situation but freezes when he sees his two youngest, 13 and 15, sitting there. The younger one with her leg up and the older one sitting with a gash on his forehead, both have some scrapes and bruises. It takes a few long moments for him to accept what he’s seeing before going full omega mother on them. Worrying over his pups, demanding to know what happened (they went out on their older sisters stupid motorized bike that they know they can’t be on and wrecked), and being angry over them not calling him or Jack. The room practically teals of calming omega scent as he looks over them before letting a resident do their job.

Bonus: most of the Ed has no idea Robby even has kids and is very shocked 

[natendo-art]

Looking respectfully as always …

[shadeofpeach]

The bet

Pairing: Dr. Jack Abbot x resident!reader Warnings: none, fluff and comfort, slight nervousness/panic. Summary: When a fever leaves you completely exhausted, Abbot steps in to take care of you; unbeknownst to you, entirely validating a hospital wide betting pool on his secret crush.

Disclaimer: This story is pure fiction and written solely for entertainment purposes.

A/N I had an idea in mind but I feel it didn't turn out well, like when you plan an outfit and then the clothes don't match lol but anyway, I hope you enjoy it!!! 🎀 based on this request 🎀

The ER was always noisy, but tonight it felt like a physical burden. Going back to work after four days with a fever meant being completely exhausted after five hour. At a certain point, exhaustion stops being a feeling and becomes a physical ache in your bones.

You leaned against the central nurse station, staring blankly at a patient chart on the monitor. A tear of fatigue slipped down your cheek.

You quickly wiped it away, hoping no one saw.

But of course, he did.

Across the desk, Lena caught your eye. But she looked at you with the expression of someone watching a romantic tragedy unfold in real time. She nudged the resident next to her, who glanced up, saw you, and immediately checked his watch.

"Any minute now," Lena murmured softly.

"What happens at any minute?" you asked, your voice raspy.

Before Lena could answer, Dr. Jack Abbot walked out from a trauma bay. The second his eyes scanned the floor and landed on you, he stopped dead in his tracks.

The entire nursing station went quiet.

You didn't notice.

You just thought everyone was as tired as you were.

Jack handed the papers he had on his hands to a passing intern without looking and detoured straight toward you.

"Hey," he said. "You look like you're about to collapse into the desk."

"I'm fine, Dr. Abbot," you breathed. "Just trying to finish up a discharge."

Jack looked at the dark circles under your eyes, the slight tremble in your hand, and the absolute exhaustion radiating from you.

A protective frown line appeared between his brows.

"Lena," Jack said, his eyes never leaving your face. "Who is covering the east wing for the next hour?"

"Dr. Langdon’s doing night shift today," Lena replied instantly, a small smirk playing on her lips. "And I can handle the paperwork. Go ahead, Abbot."

"Great. You're off the clock for sixty minutes," Jack told you, his tone leaving no room for argument. "Breakroom. Now."

You blinked, panic instantly cutting through your fatigue. You stood up on shaky legs, your heart hammering against your ribs as you followed him down the hallway.

Behind your back, Lena silently handed a five dollar bill to a nurse. “Told you he’d break protocol to get her off her feet before 2 AM,” she whispered.

Unaware of the betting pool you were currently central to, you walked into the breakroom. He closed the door behind you.

"Dr. Abbot, if I made a mistake on the trauma intake—"

"Oh, no, no," Jack interrupted gently, putting a hand out to stop you. "You didn't make a mistake. You've been on your feet for five hours, non stop, after days of fever. This is an intervention."

He reached into the cupboard and pulled out a protein bar along with a bottle of water, and placed them on the table.

"Take a break," he commanded softly.

You took the food and sank down onto the sofa; the relief of finally sitting up was so intense it made your head spin. Jack stepped out for a second and returned with a jacket in his hand. Without a word, he placed it on your lap. It was warm and smelled of his cologne.

"Jack, I can't sleep, I have patients," you whispered, using his first name only because the walls of the room felt like a safe haven. "It looks bad. The other residents..."

Jack chuckled and sat down in one of the chairs, elbows resting on his knees. "Let them talk. I’m the attending. If anyone has a problem with me making sure my best resident doesn't faint on a patient, they should talk to me."

Jack's gaze was entirely focused on you. He wanted to reach out, to pull you against him and tell you that he’d carry the weight of the whole hospital if it meant you could rest.

But he didn't. He kept his hands to himself, clamping down on the feelings he'd been harboring for months. You were his resident; there were lines he couldn't cross, no matter how much his chest ached every time he saw you smile or, worse, saw you cry.

"Eat. Drink. Rest for an hour at least," Jack said, his voice a low, soothing anchor. "I'll be out there handling everything. Nobody is going to disturb you."

"Thank you, Jack," you murmured, tearing open the wrapper with clumsy fingers. You looked up at him. "You're a really amazing mentor. I don't know what I'd do without you."

Jack's heart did a painful twist. Mentor.

He offered you a smile that didn't quite reach his eyes. "Just doing my job. Get some rest."

He left the room and crossed paths with Frank as he reached the central desk. Frank glanced at him sideways, letting out a sigh.

"You've got it bad, Abbot," Frank whispered. "You know the entire night shift is currently running a pool on when you're actually going to tell her, right?"

Jack’s jaw tightened, his cheeks flushing slightly. "She's exhausted Leave it alone, Langdon."

"I'm just saying, the girl is brilliant, but she’s medically blind to the fact that you look at her like she hung the moon," Frank countered with a smirk. "You're going to have to spell it out for her. Preferably after she graduates residency."

"She needs to focus on her career. She doesn't need the complication of an attending crossing lines," Jack said. "And right now, she just needs a safe place to rest. That’s all I’m giving her."

Frank stared at him for a second. He patted Jack on the shoulder. "You're a good man, Jack. A miserable, pining man, but a good one. I'll cover her for the next hour."

"Thanks," Jack muttered.

At 7:30 AM, you were waiting for the day shift to finish taking report. You reached into your scrubs pocket for a pen, only to realize you were wearing Jack’s jacket. You smiled faintly, the scent of him clinging to the fabric.

"Alright, pay up," a loud whisper hissed from around the corner of the desk.

You paused, your hand still on the zipper of the jacket.

Lena was holding her palm out toward Mateo. He was grumbling under his breath as he fished a ten dollar bill out of his wallet and slapped it into her hand.

"I still say it’s cheating," Mateo complained. "You had inside information."

"I didn't have inside information, I have eyes and know how to bet," Lena countered smoothly, pocketing the cash. "He didn't just give her a nap break; he gave her his jacket."

You blinked, standing entirely still. His jacket?

Slowly, you stepped around the corner. "Is there a problem with Dr. Abbot''s jacket?"

Both Lena and Mateo froze. Mateo immediately looked down at the clipboard, suddenly fascinated by a trauma intake form.

"I definitely didn't say anything about a bet." Lena said. "Aren't you leaving? It's 7:30 already."

"Lena," you said, your eyebrows knitting together as you looked between her and the dollar bill sticking out of her pocket. "What bet? Were you guys betting on this jacket?"

"Oh, honey. Not just the jacket," Lena said, leaning her elbows on the counter and looking at you with a mixture of affection and disbelief. "We’ve been betting on the entire ecosystem of your life for the last four months."

"My life? Why?"

Lena let out a laugh. She looked at Mateo. "She’s serious. She really doesn't know."

"Know what?" you asked, a sudden spike of anxiety hitting your stomach. "Did I do something? Is there a rumor about me?"

Lena’s expression softened instantly. Seeing your genuine panic, she reached across the desk and gently patted your arm. "Hey, no. It’s not a bad rumor. It’s just... sweetie, how can someone so brilliant in the trauma bay be so blind?"

You stared at her, completely lost. "Blind to what?"

Lena sighed, shaking her head. "To Dr. Abbot, darling. To Jack."

The name made your heart skip a beat, though you tried to keep your face completely neutral. "What about Dr. Abbot? He’s a great attending. He’s incredibly supportive of my residency—"

"He is completely wrapped around your finger," Lena interrupted bluntly.

Your jaw tightened slightly. "What? No, he’s not. He’s just a mentor. He does things for everyone."

"Oh, really?" Mateo chimed in, unable to keep quiet any longer. "He didn't bring me a specific brand of protein bar last week just because I said I liked it."

"And the jacket," Lena pointed to the one you were currently wearing. "Jack Abbot is very serious when it comes to his personal stuff. I once saw a medical student accidentally knock a smoothie onto that exact jacket, and Jack looked like he was going to perform an unanesthetized appendectomy on the kid. And tonight he literally tucked you in with it."

You looked down at the jacket, your mind racing, replaying a dozen different interactions over the last few months.

The way he always happened to be near the desk when your shift ended.

The way his voice grew remarkably quiet and gentle whenever he spoke to you, completely different from his sharp and commanding attending persona.

The way he’d look at you when he thought you weren't paying attention.

"Everyone knows," Lena said softly. "Nurses, residents, security staff. We actually have a timeline. Langdon put twenty bucks on 'After Graduation,' but I’m rooting for you two to figure it out by the end of the month."

"He... he has a crush on me?" you breathed, the words feeling entirely surreal on your tongue.

"Crush is a word for teenagers, sweetie," Lena said, looking at you with a gentle smile. "What Jack Abbot has for you is a profound case of being completely gone. He’s just too much of a gentleman, and too worried about crossing professional lines, to tell you himself."

Your hands gripped the edge of Jack's jacket, the warmth of it suddenly feeling entirely different. It felt like a protective shield of a man who was desperately trying to take care of you from a distance.

--

For days, you were a walking disaster of nervous energy and Jack noticed every single second of it.

Whenever he walked into a room, you suddenly found a patient chart that desperately needed your attention across the floor.

When you handed him a suture kit in the trauma bay, your fingers brushed, and you jumped as if you’d been zapped by a defibrillator.

You couldn't look him in the eye for more than two seconds without your face turning red.

A week later, the tension was unbearable. Jack was quietly losing his mind, convinced he had somehow crossed a line or made you uncomfortable during your shift.

Needing air, Jack retreated to the roof, the only place in the hospital where the noise couldn't reach him. The cool wind whipped at his scrub shirt as he leaned against the metal railing, his mind completely consumed by thoughts of you.

The door to the roof groaned open.

Jack turned, his breath catching when he saw you step out. You were holding his jacket tightly against your chest.

"Hey," Jack said softly. He took a step toward you, his eyes scanning your face, filled with worry.

"Lena said you came up here," you breathed, the wind catching your hair.

Jack stopped a few feet away, his hands shoved deep into his pockets to keep from reaching out to you. "Look, we need to talk. You’ve been... avoiding me? For days. If I did something to upset you, or if I made you uncomfortable by putting my jacket on you the other night, I need you to tell me. I’ll back off. I swear I will. Just please tell me what’s wrong between us."

The panic in his eyes broke the dam. You gripped his jacket tighter, took a sharp breath, and the words just tumbled out of you.

"It makes me nervous being around you because you like me and I like you and they have a bet about you with me, did you know that?"

Jack froze. He stared at you, his brain completely stalling out as he tried to process the words that had just exploded from your mouth.

"I... what?" Jack stammered.

"The nurses! And residents! And even security!" you blurted out, your face burning so hot it made your cheeks hurt. "They bet on what time you’d kick me out of the floor to take a break, they bet on when you’d give me your jacket, and they told me you bought a specific protein bar for me, and Langdon has twenty dollars on us figuring it out after I graduate!"

You stopped to gasp for air. "I didn't know, Jack. I swear. But now I do, and every time you look at me I forget how to read a lab report, and it just makes me so nervous because I do like you, and I didn't think you liked me back, and now I know everyone in the whole hospital is watching us and can't even look at you without blushing."

Silence fell over the roof, save for the sound of traffic below.

You squeezed your eyes shut, suddenly wishing the roof would open up and swallow you whole.

Great.

You just broke the professional boundary.

And sounded like a lunatic doing it.

Then, you heard him.

You opened your eyes. Jack was smiling. He let out a disbelieving laugh, his frown completely vanishing. What Langdon said the other day, "preferably after she graduates", kept echoing in his head for a couple of days.

"Frank put twenty on it?" Jack asked.

"That’s the part you’re focusing on?!" you wailed, hiding your burning face into his jacket.

Jack closed the distance between you. He grasped your wrists, pulling your hands away from your face. You looked up and his soft eyes made your knees weak.

"No," Jack whispered, his thumbs softly tracing the inside of your wrists, his gaze dropping to your lips before locking back onto your eyes. "That’s not the part I’m focusing on."

He took a deep breath, stepping even closer.

"You like me?" he asked, as if he needed to hear the words clearly just to believe they were real.

"Yes," you whispered, feeling nervous and a little dizzy. "I like you, Jack."

"Good," Jack murmured, his hands sliding up from your wrists to cup your face, his palms warm against your cheeks. "I like you, too. Langdon was right. I am completely gone over you. I’ve been trying to be the responsible attending, keeping my distance because I didn't want to complicate your residency. But it has been absolute torture."

"So... you're not mad about the betting pool?" you asked softly, staring into his eyes.

Jack laughed softly, his eyes crinkling at the corners as he leaned down, his forehead gently resting against yours.

"Oh, I'm furious!" Jack joked, his warm breath against your skin. "Especially because Frank made a bet about not having the guts to tell you I like you before you graduate. We're going downstairs, I'm going to kiss you right in front of them and make sure Lena gets all the credit."

You let out a soft laughter, the tension completely evaporating into the cool night air.

"Wait," you murmured, your hands finding their way to the lapels of his scrub shirt. "If you kiss me in front of them now, Frank loses his twenty bucks, sure, but Lena wins. And as much as I love her, she's been smug about this for days. Want her to suffer a little bit."

Jack paused, a spark lit up his dark eyes. "You want to see Lena loose her mind? You're evil," Jack whispered. "An absolute menace."

"I learned from the best attending in the hospital," you countered softly.

"Alright," Jack agreed, his hands sliding from your cheeks down to your waist, pulling you against him. "We keep it a secret a few days. No hand holding, no extra protein bars, and absolute professionalism in front of them."

"Deal," you smiled. "But, can you kiss me now? There aren't any cameras up here."

"No, there aren't." He didn't hesitate and leaned down, putting one of his hand on your chin to capture your lips. His hands held you firmly, securely, as if he were making sure you wouldn't walk away from him. You melted into him, your fingers tangling in the hair at the back of his neck, completely lost in him.

When he pulled back, his breathing was shallow, and your eyes were shining. He pressed one last kiss to your lips before pulling away.

"Keep the jacket," Jack murmured, as he looked down at the jacket still clutched between your chests. "Looks good on you, baby."

You blushed and bit your lip as you walked back towards the rooftop door, Jack's fingers intertwined with yours for a moment, before he let go and took a step back to let you through the door first.

⋆｡˚☤🩺✧˖°.｡⋆💉

the pitt masterlist

[backonmybullsht]

Clear+Vivid with Alan Alda (May 2025)

[you-go-too-slow-for-me]

I don't think enough love is being shown to this clip of Noah Wyle on This Morning (UK breakfast show) featuring Alison Hammond and Dermot O'Leary

Yes Alison, I couldn't agree more 😂🥰

Video credit: This morning YouTube channel

Full interview link (Really recommend watching the full thing, because they ask Noah lots of questions I've not seen other interviewers ask!)

Captions:

Dermot: You can watch errrrr The Pitt on HBO Max now with all episodes- or new episodes, dropping every Thursday. Brilliant

Alisson: Can I now scream?

Dermot: Yeah

Alisson: AHHHHHHHH

Noah: *looks quaintly afraid*

Alisson: Thank you, so lovely to meet you

Dermot: Run for the hills while you can my friend

Noah: *shaking hands and saying goodbyes no longer audible*

Alisson: Don't go without a selfie!

Dermot: No no stay stay for a minute

Alisson: Can we get a selfie? *Laughing*

Dermot: Yeah yeah stay for a minute. Oh yeah, we'll get the snaps (pictures)

[loves-alibi]

“Jack, sweetheart, why are you doing that?”

Your husband pauses, furrows his brow, then says as though it is the least perplexing thing in this world, “Shaving.”

You cross your arms, leaning against the doorframe. "Yes, Jack. I can see that you're shaving."

His face pinches, "Uh, okay." Jack lifts the razor back up, shaving a thick line on one shaving cream-covered pec. "Why are you–?"

"Your chest, Jack," you say slowly, spelling it out for your husband, a man who is too dull for his own good sometimes. "Why are you shaving your chest?"

Jack looks sincerely shocked by your question. He sets the razor down on the counter, "Because it's hairy."

You almost lose your balance. Your hand shoots out to brace yourself on the kitchen counter, "Your chest... is hairy?"

Jack Abbot, the man with the smoothest torso you've ever seen, has chest hair? Fuck that! The man you married has chest hair?

"Yeah," he says as you spiral further and further. Then, as though it explains everything, "I'm an Abbot."

"Jack, please listen to me," you say, trying dearly to keep your voice even. "I'm willing to forgive you keeping this from me throughout three years of marriage, but I swear on your life that if a razor ever touches those tits again, I will be serving you divorce papers."

[richeeduvie]

a nude can be an update if you try hard enough

-- jack abbot x pregnant afab reader --

You dismantle Jack's shift when he decides to text you at 11pm. He doesn't even give you something sweet. He's so stern and smarmily dominant.

Update.

Not even a miss you? Soooo unromantic! Your first instinct is to ignore him. Your second is to remind yourself that Jack is at work, which means he's probably been checking his phone between patients with his "discreet" panic he believes passes for casual concern.

Your third instinct is of evil. Pregnancy has made you very creative.

You’re home now because Jack, Robby, Dana...and your obstetrician formed a freakin munity against you and your right to remain an employed nurse until your water breaks on Pitt property.

Fine. Whatever. Your back and tits hurt, and your skin feels too tight around your baby doing backflips inside you.

...And you are also naked.

It's just after you've taken a shower. You attempted to apply lotion, and you're ashamed to admit you were exhausted by the time you reached your back. Motherhood is already beautiful.

You're huffing and collapsing on the bed until you look into the mirror across from you.

Your tits are fuller than you ever thought possible, heavy against the top of your bump. You look...very pregnant. And bare.

...Like something that would stop Jackie's heart with great efficiency. Metaphorically, of course.

Your phone buzzes again. You find only your name in the text.

Oh? Not even Sleepy? Baby? Whore? He must be irritated.

You smile like a wimp and settle yourself above the pillows. You hold the phone and take a picture.

The first one is awful, the second catches the loaded basket of dirty laundry. Not very seductive. But the third is...good. It's not exactly as polished or as purposefully hornified as the garage-gym wall photos you've gifted Jack. The ones he pretends are purely motivational.

You're just naked and fresh from the shower. Your mouth is slightly curled in a sleepy little smile.

You type, back to smiling like a wimp.

still pregnant

You attach the photograph, and for a moment, you almost consider whether this is a wise thing to do. But where's the fun in that?

You hit send.

At the Pitt, Jack is standing outside room twelve while Shen explains the patient's diagnosis inside. He's listening. Technically. His phone vibrates in his pocket. He ignores it.

"Sooo, the patient stated there was no possibility—"

"There is a difference between a patient’s assessment of possibility and documented confirmation."

"Yes, but—"

Jack's phone vibrates again. He swallows. He knows it's you, and you're doing what he asked. Updating, but needing to focus on work first and foremost is getting to his nerves.

Shen blinks.

"You gonna get that? Could be mama-to-be..."

Shen shuts up at what Jack's glaring. He's got good enough stern eye contact that the guy probably doesn't realize he's also smirking.

Whatever. He'll get it. Not because Shen said that. Because he was going to anyway....well. Eventually.

He opens your message.

"I'll be right back—"

...The pitt ceases to exist when your body fills the screen.

"Jesus fuc..."

God fucking damn it, Sleepy. That's not what he meant by a fucking update.

Naked tits. Round stomach. Your thighs disappearing beneath the sheet, crotch visible enough with the bush he groomed. That's it. That's the picture.

The sleepy, satisfied upturn of your mouth is the cherry on top.

still pregnant

Jack locks the phone as fast as he can. He walks away from Shen as fast as he can.

He gets three steps before his body catches up to the image. Heat moves through him with a harsh force, straight through his chest. Then lower. Then lower.

"Fuck."

He opens up the message again. He sighs low.

Same thing. You're naked and smug with the visible proof that he filled you up.

"You unbelievable little shit."

Jack's probably hypertensive. He is. He's hypertensive as shit. Of course, he is. He's dealing with a professional crisis growing in fucking his scrub bottoms.

His pulse is too fast. This is what you do, kid. You take his body, which has been through a whole fucking lot, and reduce it to a badly managed response with one picture.

...He's standing in the bathroom trying to negotiate with an erection cause his pregnant wife answered a request for an at-home update by sending him her tits and a hint of her cunt. The bravery of the kid.

The phone vibrates. He eyes the text popping up.

is that enough information, doctor?

Yeah. You're gonna get it when he gets home.

[natendo-art]

Like a kid in a candy store 💕

Watching Noah in the Criterion Collection closet was such a joy 💕

[groovyangelkisses]

pope who knows his dick is big so everytime you makeout and start to put your hand on him, he pushes it away. now you just think “oh okay, he’s not ready for intimacy yet.” understandable!

but it gets to a point where one day you convince him to pull down his jeans and you see his thick, heavy cock slap against his tummy. i mean heaaaaavy, like the crimson pink tip is so big & his balls are spilling out of his boxers and he’s soooo warm.

and you’re just staring— gazing, rather. his cheeks & ears are so red and he’s avoiding eye contact nervously as his fists clench and unclench. bare assed, sitting on the bed sheet and swallowing as he pinches his mouth and looks at you… sweet, doe-eyed you. you coo “oh andrew…” in lust and he’s shakily replying “‘m just… really big, didn’t wanna scare you off… or anything.”

FUCK

[dirtygir1]

i searched sooo deep into h the is priv community im in bc i wrote something similar in april and i had to share after seeing this thank u miss cherry

the first few months of your guys’ relationship he wouldn’t let you touch him, wouldn’t let you suck him off bc he knew his size and didn’t want you to strain yourself. and he didn’t mind eating you out and humping against the bed, or fingering you while he palms himself down.

when you finally corner him ab it bc you just wanna make him feel good too he’s all big eyed like “we can do whatever you want baby, always. i just don’t want you to hurt yourself or hurt you.” and you’re confused bc??? it can’t be that bad.

but he gets his boxers off and it genuinely springs out like a tree hitting the ground after being cut down. literally shock all on your face, bc it’s so thick and long and pulsing and CURVED and PRETTY and “you’re staring.” oh right my fault my fault.

he’s all sweet above you as he guides you onto his dick, rubbing at the underside of your chin whispering sweet notes of “breath baby, ok? not a race,,” “calm down, don’t gotta take it all” “doin’ so good”

and as cautious as he knew he should’ve been, he’s silently cursing himself for keeping this throat from him. your eyes are rolling back once he starts thrusting into your mouth, and he’s apologizing when he fucks your throat rougher than he should as he reaches his climax.

and he’s oh so sweet and gentle in bed, even if you’re cursing him to pleeeease speed up, you’re not glass you can take it. “baby if i go too fast i could hurt you, just stay still ok?” though he’s completely locked in, almost dizzy watching you stretch around his length.

me and my girly were talking about how he’d get secretly turned on hearing you moan about how big he is and how loud you get.

he’d be red in the face, trying to tune you out but you’re scratching at his biceps, squirming under him as he rocks into you so deep it makes you drool, and practically screaming ab how u feel it in ur stomach. he can’t deal, he’s a minute away from bussing inside you.

“baby it’s-it’s not that good..” he can’t even look at you he’s so worked up, eyes to the ceiling as he slams into your hips, biting his lip each time you squeak and moan under him. “no it’s sooo good popey…you’re so big i can’t take it i feel you in my stomach” aaaand hes cumming in you so hard uncontrollably :( apologizing bc he didn’t mean to but he couldn’t help it you got him so worked up :((