“What are you doing?” Your husband asked, clearly irritated by your actions as you force the book he was reading out of his lap.
“I want to cuddle you.” You say into his neck as he begrudgingly lets you climb onto his lap and settle your legs on either side of his own.
“Cuddle?” He scoffs. “I was trying to read.” You reach behind you blindly, hand finding the still open book and clumsily closing it before throwing it to the floor and tightening your hold on him. “What the fuck is wrong with you?”
“I want to spend time with my husband but it seems hed rather pretend to be interested in the book hes reading.” Your fingers run over the short hairs at the base of his neck, the feeling helping you wind down after a hectic day. “I missed you. And im your wife. You must love me.”
He groans but circles his arms around your waist nonetheless and rubs his large warm hands over your skin soothingly. “You speak as though I do anything other than love and spoil you.” He grumbles into your hair.
“You could do so with less complaints.” That pulls a rare chuckle from him and you smile against his skin.
SUMMARY: Jack Abbot is not an overly-neighborly person. He has secret nicknames in his head for most of the people on his floor and actively avoids any and all types of neighbor politics. However, he can’t deny his growing fondness for the single mom and toddler in apartment seventeen. (Nor his burning hatred for your baby daddy).
WARNINGS: this series includes a very chaotic reader with an even more chaotic toddler, mentions of abandonment, parent death, Jack's inability to consider anything good and worthwhile for himself, eventual smut, friends to lovers, mentions of previous abusive relationships, mentions of mental health struggles, miscommunication, age gap (reader is around 27 and Jack is in his 40's), medical inaccuracies and more.
A/N: I am very very excited to share this series and bring it to life. It started as a very random idea that quickly transpired into a huge story in my head within a matter of minutes. It does touch on some potentially triggering topics but warnings will be given in each chapter!
PAIRING: Jack Abbot x Single Mom!Reader
STATUS: Ongoing
─── ⋆ CHAPTERS ⋆
PART ONE 𖤓♡ — Jack Abbot values his routine and structure. Work, SWAT, gym... and for the past six weeks, spending his Sunday mornings admiring the enigmatic single mom who's apartment balcony sits across from his. [3k]
PART TWO 𖤓♡ — A scuffle in the hall causes Jack to accidentally take Phoebe’s wallet to work instead of his. He gains himself a new nickname amongst the Pitt and finally learns a thing or two about you and your daughter. [7.3k]
PART THREE 𖤓 — A trip to the ED, a retirement meal, and a phone call with Robby. One leaves you up close and personal with your neighbor, one has Phoebe spilling secrets like it's an Olympic sport, and another has Jack realizing he's got a fucking crush on the single mom in apartment seventeen. [7.1k]
PART FOUR 𖤓♡ — Phoebe's birthday party consists of four sets of eyes ogling Jack from the second he enters your apartment, screaming children, your mom noticing something rather interesting, and a night on the balcony that changes the trajectory of everything. [8.7k]
⤷ PART 4.5 — A series of texts between you and Jack after Phoebe's birthday party. [smau]
PART FIVE — June 10th
PART SIX — June 15th
PART SEVEN — June 20th
PART EIGHT — June 25th
More chapters TBD
#APT.17 (a tag for anything related to this series)
Tag list for this series has grown way too big for me to keep up with so it’s unfortunately CLOSED. You can however follow the #apt.17 tag instead for updates on the series!
DESCRIPTION: You haven't told your boyfriend Jack about your anxiety. He has enough on his plate and enough baggage to deal with. But one night it becomes too difficult to hide.
WORD COUNT: 2.6k
WARNINGS: Established!Relationship. Emotional hurt/comfort. Anxiety/Anxiety attacks. Mention of Jack's trauma's. Reader bites/picks at nails. Very very slight hints at struggles with eating. Fluff with a sprinkle of angst.
NOTES: I wrote most of this while having an anxiety attack last night. So I wish all my anxious and depressive queens to have a good day today.
READ ON AO3! - MASTERLIST
She had been dating Jack Abbot for 6 months, and she truly didn’t mind the baggage that came with it. Let's be honest here. While Jack was cool and calm under pressure and charismatic as all hell… he had incredible amounts of trauma. His thoughts and memories beat the hell out of him every day, and he coped by working all the time, weekly therapy, and spending time with his girlfriend. He spoiled her to the moon and back to make his mind clearer. And she’d listen to him, surprise him with ‘lunch’ mid late-night shift, and overall just distract him from everything horrible in the world. She reminded him that there were still good things left to stick around for.
Even through the nights when he accidentally kept her up, tossing and turning. Pacing around the kitchen. Waking up startled from nightmares. He was worth every second. She’d sleepily try to ground him by gently rubbing his freckled back. When he felt too embarrassed to look at her, she’d kiss his shoulder blade and press her cheek against it, a constant reminder that he was okay.
But what Jack didn’t know… was that she had horrible anxiety as well. She just didn’t tell him about it. How could she? He had so many more critical reasons to be anxious and depressed. She just woke up every day at 4 am with unexplainable chest pain. When she spent nights alone, she’d lie in bed in the dark, feeling this dread take over her entire body. Her chest would tighten, and every shadow felt like it could suddenly turn and stare at her.
She had her reasons, too. Burnout, poor eating habits, stress. But they never felt as real as Jack’s. So she swore to herself that she wouldn’t be a burden to him. Only her closest friends knew. She tried to work on it silently, scheduling her therapy appointments for days Jack wouldn’t come over. Or making excuses to be busy on specific days.
Lately, her anxiety had been skyrocketing. She couldn’t pinpoint an exact reason within the list of things currently bugging her. But she hadn’t been on top of her eating and water, so that was a factor. And her period was coming up in a week, so there was another. She just felt off. On edge. Every breath she took was unsatisfying as she’d get random chest pain throughout the day. She was crying more often, which she was sure was also due to her cycle, but it didn’t make it suck any less.
One night, she sat on the couch, trying to relax. It was late. She was supposed to be fast asleep by now, but the gnawing foreboding weight on her chest made her dark bedroom too stressful. She felt like she couldn’t breathe in the confines of her bedroom.
Part of her wanted to call Jack. He wasn’t on shift, and she just wanted to cry into him. But the idea of that was actually more anxiety-inducing. What if he was also having an anxious night and needed her to be strong? Plus, she feared that he’d think she was crazy. Silly, girlfriend, nothing is going to get you in the middle of the night.
But she also… needed her boyfriend. She pulled out her phone, settling on the idea of just using him as a distraction.
Y: you still awake, old man?
He replied almost instantly.
J: I always am, sweetheart. What are you doing up?
Y: Nothing. Can’t sleep. Just bored.
Not a total lie. After a moment, he texted again
J: I can come over. Or you can come over here. Whichever you prefer.
Y: what. why?
J: You like laying on me. You knock out pretty fast.
She didn’t know what to say to that. It was true. Sleeping on Jack was like sleeping on a big, warm bear. His chest and stomach were so pillowy. It’d be perfect.
But she worried that if he saw her in person, she wouldn’t be able to keep her anxiety at bay. It was at a level where she couldn’t ignore the tremble in her hands.
Y: I look like a hot mess.
J: Don’t give me that.
Y: I’m fine.
INCOMING CALL FROM JACK <3
Shit. Shit shit shit shit. She didn’t answer it. She pressed the big red hang-up button.
J: ??? Everything okay.
Y: I just told you I’m fine.
J: Sweetheart, I’m gonna call you again. And if you don’t answer this time, I’ll take that as a sign to leave you be. But I’m worried.
Oh god. She was worrying him. How could she be so stupid?! She hiccuped as she watched the phone start to vibrate in her hands.
INCOMING CALL FROM JACK <3
This time, she felt compelled to answer it.
“Hi. Hi. I’m fine.” She said a little too quickly
There was a suspecting noise on the other end of the line.
“Well, sweetheart, I know that before you, I hadn’t dated in quite some time… but I do know that when someone says ‘I’m fine’ they usually are not.”
She leaned back against the couch as she held the phone to her ear. “It’s stupid. Just some before-bed jitters.”
There was a bit of quietness on the phone before he said,
“Wanna talk about it?”
“I’m telling you it’s nothing.”
“And I’m telling you that I want to come over and listen to you talk allllll about nothing.”
That got her to giggle a little. Oh god, he was breaking her down. She looked down at her shorts, which she was picking at with her fingers. Though doing so sent shocks through her fingertips since she had bitten or picked off all her nails to short stubs.
This was a battle. Desire to be comforted versus sheer will. When her breath started to catch, she closed her eyes. Strong desire won over.
“Can you come over, Jackie?” Her voice wavered
“I’ll be there in ten.”
Even though she had been expecting him, she still yelped startled when he knocked. She scurried over and opened the door.
“Hi.” She said, smiling, still trying to keep her front strong.
He stood in a black T-shirt and grey joggers. A duffel bag was slung over his beefy shoulder with sleepover materials. Their familiar routine. He looked her over in her disheveled state. In one of his shirts and pajama shorts, her hair was a little frazzled from tossing and turning.
“Hi, sweetheart.” He murmured, walking forward and setting his duffel bag down so he could cup her face. His thumbs brushed back and forth, and she couldn’t help but lean into his touch. Her breath started to pick up again as she felt like she could cry any minute.
It seemed like he could tell. She wasn’t strong enough to keep her face content. Instead, her lips formed a small pout, and her jaw clenched.
“Hey. Talk to me.” He quickly turned and shut the door behind him.
He guided her back towards the couch.
“I promise I don’t bite. Unless you want me to.” He joked affectionately.
They sat down, and she sat up straight. Almost too straight.
“It’s nothing. I’m just really tired.”
“Yeah?” He pulled her in so she was lying her head on his chest. “I’m sorry you can’t sleep. Here-“ he gently grabbed her calf and pulled up her legs to be folded on his lap. He scratched the back of her scalp, untangling the parts of her hair he made contact with. “How’s that?”
She nodded. This was nice. Her heart was still pattering like a hummingbird, but Jack was a source of warmth.
He kissed her forehead, “You’re quiet tonight. Must be real tired.”
He looked down and noticed her hands were together. She was unconsciously picking at her left thumb, but there was no more nail left to possibly pick. So instead, she scraped against the red tips and little skin tags.
“Mm, what’s this about?” He gently pried her hands apart and took a good look at her hand.
She hated that. She quickly took it back, self-conscious. Her nails were ugly. They weren’t like other girls’s, where they looked all pretty and done up. Hers were at the point where they were too short to get acrylics. There was too little to glue onto.
“I’m sorry.” He said softly, “I should’ve asked. Baby, can I please see your hand?”
And how was she supposed to deny him when he was so sweet?
She shakily gave him her left hand and looked away. His rough, calloused hand held hers like it were the most fragile piece of china. As if he were in the ED, he twisted and turned it to get a good look. Though there was something about his demeanor that put her slightly at ease. He was so delicate and focused that she didn’t feel as scared to show him.
“Mm, how come I never realized you were a nail-biter?” His thumb rubbed over the top of hers, and she winced, “Sorry, I bet it hurts. You picked it so short that your hyponichium underneath is out. That’s a sensitive area.” He kissed the pad of her thumb.
For some reason him explaining the science behind the pain felt nice. She felt better being given context as to why it felt like electric shocks every time her nails touched anything.
He let her hand go and just gently rubbed his hand up and down her thigh.
“We have a few options here. We can… turn on a movie. We can just lay here for a bit. Or we can… go to bed.”
She shook her head. “I can’t go to bed.”
His brows furrowed, “Why not?”
She closed her eyes. There was no option here to deflect. No excuse. No lie that she could come up with that sounded semi-reasonable.
“I can’t breathe in there. It’s too dark, and I have this feeling that something is going to get me. And I know that sounds so totally stupid and crazy because I’m not five years old, scared of the monster in my closet. My chest has been tight for days, and I can’t sleep in there-”
Her voice started to crack, and a wave of humiliation flooded through her. He rubbed her back and put his lips to her hair. There was a look of intense focus in his eyes, as if he were trying to figure out a Rubik's Cube. His brows furrowed, but he just placed kisses on her scalp.
“And- And- I just feel like something bad’s going to happen. But I don’t know what the bad is. Usually I just take melatonin to knock myself out, but it makes me so drowsy the next day-”
“Yeah, baby, don’t do that. Don’t do that.” He whispered gruffly. After that, he pulled back to look down at her gently. “It sounds like you’re having some anxiety.”
She looked at him with a sad look in her eyes. She needed to tell him.
“I know…” She admitted, “My… my therapist gives me tips, but there are things that I don’t want to do. I don’t wanna put my face in cold water or hold an ice cube. I just wanna sleep.”
The tears started to flow now. She covered her face with her hands, not wanting to look at him. Especially when he said-
“I didn’t know you were in therapy.”
She had lied to him. She had kept this from him. And her heart felt like it was gonna explode out of her chest from guilt and anxiety building up.
She nodded, “I’ve done it on and off for a while.” She hiccuped, “I- I didn’t use to have as bad of anxiety, but it’s gotten worse as I’ve gotten older.”
He reached out and gently pulled her hands down from her face. Cupping her cheeks, he used his thumbs to brush her tears away.
“I’m sorry you’ve been dealing with this…” His gaze fell over her reddened, puffy face, “You know you can always talk to me? Yeah? It doesn’t sound ‘stupid’ or ‘crazy’ like you think. I promise.”
She shook her head, “You have enough things to deal with, Jack. I don’t wanna be another burden for you to deal with-”
“Whoa whoa whoa.” His brows raised in surprise, “You are never a burden to me. Yeah, sure, I’ve got my issues and all my shit. But that doesn’t mean yours don’t exist.”
“You have- you have the ER and SWAT and your leg-”
“And it doesn’t matter.” He brushed her hair out of her face, “At least when it comes to you. I don’t want you to play this comparison game. I have my issues, and you have yours. We can deal with them together.”
With a slow nod of her head, she did her best to understand, even though her hyperventilating had made her hands start to go a little numb. A small supportive smile crested his lips. He lightly pinched her chin.
“Plus, I wanna take care of my girl. Always so strong for me. Let me help.”
“Okay.” She gave in.
“There we go. I’m gonna get you some water, and we can stay out here with the lights on for as long as you need. We can turn on a movie or just talk for a bit until you’re ready to sleep in bed. Does that sound okay?”
It sounded perfect. She nodded.
“Yeah, that sounds good.”
He kissed the top of her head and slowly got up. But in his place, he took one of the folded blankets on the side of the couch and draped it over her shoulders.
As he rustled in the kitchen, she felt better enough to grab the remote and at least scroll through the options. She muted the TV so the noise of hovering over different shows didn’t blast through the speakers. Heading over to the Disney icon, she scrolled through the cartoon movies.
Jack came back a few minutes later with a glass of water and a sandwich on a plate with chips on the side.
“Didn’t know if you had eaten dinner, but knowing you, your anxiety could also be from a drop in blood sugar, so.”
For the first time, a real, genuine smile grew on her face. She chuckled and took the plate from him so he could sit down next to her again.
“Thank you, Dr. Abbot.” She teased
He looked up at the TV, “What do we got here? Tangled? … I don’t remember this one.”
“What?! You’ve never seen Tangled?”
He put his hands up. “I don’t know if I’m the target audience here, sweetheart.”
She immediately pressed play and drew her knees up, getting comfy as she took bites of the amazing sandwich.
“It’s really good.” She murmured, covering her mouth.
He smiled and put his hand on her knee, giving it a small squeeze.
“I’ll take your word for it.”
Towards the end of the movie, when the gang of tough guys was saving Flynn Rider, Jack found her falling fast asleep on his lap. His hands had been running through her hair for most of the movie. He actually found himself invested and immediately saw himself and her as Flynn and Rapunzel. But as she started to drool on his pant leg, he realized he’d have to finish the movie another day.
He gently squeezed her shoulder, “Hey… Let’s get you to bed.”
Half asleep, she nodded in agreement.
She was dead tired by the time she crawled into bed. The adrenaline from the anxiety knocked her out really well. Jack quietly slipped into bed next to her, and she instinctively reached to hold him. She rested her cheek against his chest and sprawled her leg over his waist, letting his hand run up and down her thigh.
“Feeling better?” He murmured, sleepy himself.
“So much better. Thank you, Jack. So much…”
“Always.” He took a deep breath and sighed, closing his eyes, “Always.”
forgive the version of you that didn’t know what to do and could not have foreseen what the right choice was, if there even was one. forgive the version of you that made a choice and regretted it.
