Thereās literally one thing on this right now but I reblog so much shit I thought maybe I should make one especially if I write more. :)
Yall can hop into my ask box with whatever honestly. Ideas (I cannot promise theyāll be written), questions, random rambling about things. Whatever! :)
DISCLAIMER!
I do not use AI. I absolutely despise it, Iād have all five fics Iām working on currently out by now if I did but Id rather sit vulva first on red hot coals than use those water guzzling, environment destroying, slop machines. If it looks like ai itās just cause Iām a shitty fucking writer. I use that ellipsis site to write everything because you have to manually turn on the spell check. The influx of ai usage for fic is disappointing and disgusting. If Iāve reposted somthing that is ai or seems like it pleaseeeeee let me know so I can take another look at it and consider my next actions concerning my repost.
How can a grown man be so cute? ~ Sammy Bryant x Reader
It Will Come Back. ~ Andrew 'Pope' Cody x Med Student!RN!Reader
Pairing: Dr. Jack Abbot x wife!reader x toddler!daughter
Warnings: minor angst, sick toddler, accidental ingestion, vomiting, fluff, sleep deprivation,guilt.
Summary: When his toddler daughter secretly drinks half a can of his Coke, a nighttime stomach wrenching crisis ensues. Luckily, Dr. Abbot is on hand to help, though he may have to pay a high price for being a "bad" father.
Disclaimer: This story is pure fiction and written solely for entertainment purposes.
more dad! fics: dad!pitt ; dad!abbot
The baby monitor crackles to life at 2 AM with a dramatic cry.
"Mama... Hurts... Mama, tummy hurts..."
You bolt upright, the heavy haze of exhaustion vanishing in a second. Slipping out of bed, you hurry to your daughter's room. When you open the door, sheās curled into a tight little ball under her blankets, clutching her knees to her chest, her face flushed and tear streaked.
"Oh, sweet girl, whatās wrong?" you murmur, lifting her into your arms. She feels slightly warm, but itās her belly thatās rock hard and tense.
She lets out a sharp wail, burying her face in your neck.
You try to think. Did she eat something bad? A stomach bug? Your mind scrambles through the medicine cabinet, but youāre terrified of giving a toddler the wrong dosage or medicine.
Needing help, you grab your phone and dial the one person who always has the answers.
Over at the hospital, the emergency department is in its usual state of controlled chaos. Jack stands at the central desk, rubbing the bridge of his nose.
When his phone vibrates, he sighs. But seeing your name on the screen, he steps away from the desk into a quieter corner.
"Hey, baby," Jack says. "Everything okay?"
"Jack, I need help," you say, and the panic in your voice immediately puts him on high alert. In the background, he can hear the distinct crying of your daughter. "She woke up screaming. Sheās clutching her stomach, a-and it's completely rigid. Sheās... I think she's in so much pain and I don't know what to do. What medicine can I give her? P-Please tell me what to do."
"Okay, baby, hey, take a breath. Is she vomiting? Does she have a fever?"
"No fever, sheās just a little warm from crying. No vomiting yet, but she's crying so hard she might. She keeps saying her tummy hurts."
"Is the pain on the lower right side? Does she flinch if you press gently on it?" Jack asks. The fear of appendicitis is always there.
"No, it seems like it's her whole stomach. She's just curled up." Jack pauses, trying to piece every thing you say together. "Jack, did she eat anything unusual today? Anything out of the ordinary when you two were out?"
Silence hangs on the line for a second. And then, the memory of their afternoon grocery run hits him.
The grocery store.
The coke can.
He remembers her sitting in the cart, proudly holding her little juice box, while he grabbed a can of Coca-Cola. He remembers her finishing the juice in five minutes flat, and then pointing her finger at his red can.
āWant that. Daddy, please?ā
āNo, baby. Thatās Daddyās. Itāll make your tummy hurt.ā
But she had been stubborn.
She pouted, she whined, she reached for it. And later, when they got home, Jack had set the open can on the low coffee table while he was distracted trying to put the groceries away.
He remembered the sudden silence in the living room.
When a toddler is quiet, theyāre up to mischief.
By the time he had walked back into the room, she was sitting on the rug, the red can tipped back, a dark ring of soda around her mouth.
She had swallowed nearly half the can before he snatched it away. He had cleaned her up, checked her over, and when she seemed fine, he figured theyād dodged a bullet.
He hadn't wanted to worry you, so he kept it to himself.
God, he was an idiot.
"Jack? Are you there?" your voice breaks through his thoughts.
"Ye- yeah, I'm here," Jack whispers, a guilt washing over him. He leans his forehead against the hospital wall, closing his eyes. "I'm sorry. Itās my fault."
"What? What do you mean?"
"This afternoon... when we went to the store," Jack confesses. "I got a can of Coke. She wanted it, and I told her no, but... I got distracted. I left the can on the table. She drank almost half of it before I realized. I thought sheād be fine, but... her stomach can't handle that. It's a massive gas buildup and a caffeine crash."
Thereās a beat of silence. "Jack... she's a toddler. Half a can?"
"I know. I know, Iām so sorry," Jack says, his voice cracking. He feels utterly incompetent. He couldn't protect his own daughter from a stupid can of soda. "I should have been paying attention."
"We can deal with that later," you say, pushing your frustration aside because your daughter is still sobbing against your shoulder. "Do I give her medicine?"
"No pain meds yet," Jack says. "Do you have any pediatric gas drops? Simethicone?"
"Yes, I think we have some."
"Okay, good, give her the recommended dose of that. After that, don't lay her flat. Keep her upright against your chest. Rub her back firmly to help her pass the gas. And try to get her to take small sips of water to flush her system, but only if she wants it."
"Okay," you breathe, writing it down mentally. "Simethicone, upright, rub her back."
"If she starts vomiting repeatedly, or if she develops a fever, you call me immediately and bring her here. I'll have a bed ready. But it should start to pass in an hour or two once you give her that." Jack's voice is calm, trying to sound clear, so you understand the indications and calm your nerves. "I am so sorry, honey. Iāll come home. Iāll get someone to cover the rest of my shiftā"
"No, Jack, don't do that," you sigh. Your anger softens. "It's okay. I can handle this. Just... stay on the phone with me while I give her the drops?"
"Yeah," Jack chokes out. "Yeah. I'm not going anywhere. Put me on speaker so I can talk to her."
-
When the clock reads 4 AM, Jack finally finds some minutes to check on his family. Because every time he had to suture a laceration or look at a patientās chart, his mind drifted back to his little girl sobbing because of his carelessness.
He hates himself for calling and potentially waking you if she finally fell asleep, but the agony of not knowing is eating him alive.
You answer on the second ring, your voice sounded exhausted. "Hey."
"Hey, beautiful," Jack breathes."Did I wake you? Is she... how is she?"
"You didn't wake me. I was just sitting on the floor next to her, watching her," you say softly. "She threw up about an hour ago, but she's okay now."
Jackās stomach drops. He pinches the bridge of his nose, closing his eyes tight. "God. I'm so sorry. I should have come home. Was it bad? Did she choke? Is sheā"
"Jack, it's okay," you interrupt gently. "Sheās okay. Honestly, I think throwing up was exactly what she needed to get the thing out of her system. Right after it happened, she let out a huge sigh, drank a few sips of water, and went straight to sleep. Her stomach isn't hard anymore."
Jack lets out a long breath but the relief doesn't completely wash away the bitter taste of self reproach.
"I feel like a terrible father," he confesses. "I was right there and I let her get hurt."
"Jack, baby," you say. "You are not a terrible father. This things happen. Maybe you didn't think she would do it. And it's okay."
"That's not an excuseā"
"It's not an excuse, it's reality," you cut in softly. "Toddlers are like tiny silent ninjas. You can look away for three seconds, and theyāve climbed onto the counter. It happens to everyone. Literally everyone."
Jack swallows hard. "She was crying so hard, honey."
"And sheās sleeping peacefully now," you reassure him. "These things happen, baby. Yesterday it was a Coke can. Next week sheās probably going to eat my lipgloss. We do our best, we mess up, we learn, and we keep going. You made a mistake, and then you stayed on the phone and walked me through exactly how to take care of her. You're incredible."
Jack listens to your calm voice, and the anxiety on his chest starts to melt.
"How did I get so lucky with you?" he whispers.
A soft chuckle comes through the receiver. "Because you're a good man, Jack Abbot... Even when you leave carbonated drinks within arm's reach."
He laughs weakly. "I'm throwing all the soda in the house in the trash the second I get home."
"You better..." you say, a playful lilt finally creeping into your tired voice. "We are completely fine here. I promise. Sleepy but fine."
Jack catches the slight shift in your tone.
He can picture the teasing smirk on your face.
He leans back against the wall, a smile appearing on his face.
"You're really annoyed with me, aren't you, baby?" he asks.
"Maybe... A little," you reply instantly, letting out a hum just to provoke him. "I mean, my sleep is completely ruined now but we're okay."
"I know, I know. I'm at your mercy," Jack chuckles, a hand coming up to rub the back of his neck. "How can I make it up to you? Name your price, Dr. Abbot will deliver."
"You are absolutely stopping to grab breakfast on your way home," you dictate, though there's no real heat behind it. "The good stuff. The biggest caramel latte they can legally sell you. Consider it the 'bad dad' tax."
"Done, beautiful. Consider it ordered. I'll bring your favorite. And morning kisses too. Special breakfast for my woman." Jack says smiling like an idiot.
"Good, handsome," you murmur as you look over at your daughter, who is now snoring softly. The storm had passed, and everything was going to be fine. "Get back to work. And, Jack?"
"Yeah?"
"I love you. We love you."
"I love you both, honey, so much," he whispers, his heart swelling with warmth. "See you in a few hours. Go to sleep."
As the call clicks shut, Jack takes a peaceful breath, knowing he has a warm home, a recovering little girl, and a wonderful wife waiting to share breakfast with him.
dad!robby at ptmc on halloween, too overwhelmed and distracted to comprehend that you have come in to visit with your four year old daughter leading the way like she owns the place
sheās dressed as a doctor, in scrubs that you made in an attempt to have them look at authentic as possible, a kidās stethoscope around her neck (just like daddy always has), a little zip up hoodie, a clipboard and a little backpack
she walks to the nurses station, you following to make sure nothing happens while greeting dana, princess, perlah, donahue and langdon; your daughter taking a seat on princessā lap and looking at the computer with an expression that mirrors robbyās concentration
when robby walks over to the station and starts talking, asking a flurry of questions, it takes everything in the nurses not to laugh because he still hasnāt noticed his family there
āscuse me doctor daddy sir, canāt help when you look so angryā
itās then that he looks up and sees his daughter, dressed like him (even having a homemade name tag clipped to her with a picture you took and her attempt at a signature), before turning his head and seeing you watching with the softest eyes.
jack would absolutely keep snacks tucked away in his scrub pockets for you. he knows just how hard you're going to work, no matter what shift you're on. and he understands how easy it is to get caught up in the work. you are saving lives, after all. that doesn't change the fact that he hates it whenever you go nearly twelve hours without eating or drinking anything.
so, to combat this, he starts carrying snacks. protein bars, crackers, granola, trail mix, fruit snacks. he even starts buying uncrustables and hiding them in the work freezer after he catches you sneaking one from the nutrition room during a particularly brutal shift.
he never makes a big deal about it.
the first time he handed you food unprompted at work had been after a shift from hell. there had been a mass casualty event at a nightclub. you had already helped run three separate codes before there was even a moment to catch your breath, and jack could see the exhaustion written across your face hours before the call had ever come in.
when there was finally a lull, he quietly pulled you into the hallway. the second you were out of sight, you immediately collapsed into his arms, mentally, emotionally, and physically drained. he held you against his chest, one hand rubbing slow circles over your back while the other rested at the base of your neck. neither of you said anything.
after a moment, he pulled away just enough to reach into the pocket of his scrubs. before he could say anything, both of your pagers beeped at the same time. the tension you had just started to release found its rightful place back between your shoulder blades.
you sighed and turned to head back toward the trauma bays. jack grabbed your wrist before you could take more than a step. he pressed a protein bar into your hand.
"eat."
you looked down at the wrapper before looking back up at him, "i don't have time. there's anotherā"
he gently shushed you, "you haven't had time for the past nine hours," he said. "and you won't make time for the next three."
he nudged the protein bar toward you.
"eat."
you rolled your eyes, but peeled back the wrapper anyway. after your first bite, your eyebrows lifted.
"...okay,ā a bite, "this is actually really good."
the corner of jack's mouth tugged upward.
"i know."
you glanced between him and the protein bar.
"you carry emergency granola bars?"
he shrugged, "for you? yeah."
you dropped your jaw in mock offense.
"it's not that bad."
he just looked at you completely unimpressed. and to be fair, this wasnāt the first time you guys had argued about your inability to take a break during work. you always pointed out that jack was the same way.Ā
"...baby," he said, "you forgot to eat yesterday, too."
he laughed quietly before leaning down to kiss the top of your head. then he intertwined your fingers with his.
"c'mon."
still chewing your protein bar, you let him lead you back toward the trauma bays, ready to tackle whatever the rest of the shift had waiting for you.
Jack who gets overwhelmed at first when he starts seeing you. Not because you are too much or anything like that. But because it's been so long since he's felt one's attention being entirely on him.
Cute, healthy meals that you make him for work literally have him fighting back the wetness in his eyes. And then deleting the take-out delivery app.
Kisses just because you think he looks handsome or when he smiles softly at you or just because you want to. No reason to not leave kisses all over him. That has him breathing deeply through his nose just so he doesn't spill the three words way too soon.
But what gets him the most is the fact that you want to spend all your free time with him. Doesn't even matter what you do. You're content to just be sprawled half on top of him as you guys watch some silly reality shows.
Those soft moments literally have him thanking whoever decided to send you his way. He'll forever be grateful for meeting you and for filling up the empty spots in his heart.
hi cutie, would you be able to do smth about Jack and reader with a mood disorder? Bipolar or depression specifically, i totally get if u arent comfortable writing that and no rush at all if you do write i love your page and ive been dying to get good fics about that.
MWAH
-š
jack x depressed reader | mdni
thank you for this request my love!! i really hope you enjoys this. i had a bit of a hard time finishing it as i really donāt know how i wanted to end this.
authors note: to everyone who is going through a hard time.. please remember to love yourself & be kind to yourself. you are a precious jewel!! donāt forget that. my virtual door is always open <3
ā
the apartment is way too quiet for comfort. itās quiet in that weird way which feels heavy instead of the usual peaceful, and warm atmosphere their love resides in.
in reality itās been like that for almost nine months. sheās been moving through the halls like sheās only halfway inside her own body. sheās been answering in short phrases, leaving lights on even though thatās her pet peeve.
she even stopped picking strawberries and making her favorite desserts and jams.
jack stopped commenting on it three months ago. not because heās given up on her, or that he doesnāt care.. god, he cares!
itās because every time he tries to.. it seems to make her crumble in on herself even further. she constantly asked him if heās disappointed and heās constantly telling her that he never could be.
heās anxiously rubbing the back of his neck and standing at the kitchen islandā watching her in a way that is making him desperate to reach out and cocoon her in his arms.
protect her from the world. from her thoughts.
sheās slicing the bread for the grilled cheese while he clears his throat, reaching for the fridge to get the ingredients for the tomato soup.
āhey,ā he says suddenly. āshould we order something instead?ā he asks gently when she absentmindedly sighs to herself.
she doesnāt look up from the cutting board. āmm i donāt care. up to you, honey.ā she says quietly.
his jaw clenches at that. how her words sound flat and final. like her opinion doesnāt matter. like sheās just going through the motions.
he nods once and goes back to fishing out the ingredients. the items rusting in his large hands as he makes his way around their kitchen.
they prepare the food in silence, chopping and the sound of boiling tomato soup filing the air around them and jack nearly sighs in relief once the soup is done.
heās quick to tower towards her, kissing her cheek as he asks her to go sit at the kitchen table making her smile at him. her eyes donāt gleam like they used to and he frowns slightly as he watches her move away.
once heās finally got everything prepared he sets the bowl of soup, along with the plate of grilled cheese down near her wearily as she rests her chin in her palm. he tries not to force it, heās smart to place it within reach like an offering.
āyou didnāt eat much today, bug.ā he offers carefully.
thatās when it happens.. because this isnāt the first time heās brought it up today. and quite frankly itās been routine for them at this point.
āi said iām fine for the thousandth time,ā she snaps, suddenly too loud for the room around them.
she stands causing her chair to scrape loudly. ācan you just stop doing that? watching me like iām some patient that you need to check on. ā
the silence that follows is immediate. even the central air coming from the vents is louder than anything.
she clutches her chest realizing how she just spoke. jack purses his lips, but he doesnāt flinch because heās absorbing the impact of her daggers.
āheyā he says her name calmly.
he reaches his hand out for her but she paces to the other side of the table, āiām not trying to do that to you.ā he says while he watches her.
āwell it feels like it.ā she quivers.
her eyes are bright, not with anger exactlyāsomething messier. the frustration mixed with exhaustion and sadness thatās been locked in her chest so long itās starting to come out sideways.
jack exhales slowly through his nose, then stands. he steps a little closer to herā still leaving space between them.
āokay,ā he says. āthen tell me what it feels like iām doing.ā
his question was calm. it was steady.
but it almost made her angrier. it doesnāt give her something to push against.
āi donāt know,ā she admits, but it comes out like a warning. like she regrets saying it immediately.
jack nods again, like he can work with that.
āyou donāt have to know,ā he says. walking closer to her, his hand coming up between then as he held it out for her to take, ājā just donāt push me away.. just because iām here.ā
that lands right in her chest and her shoulders deflate, like her body is tired of holding the fight upright.
āiām not pushing you away,ā she says quieter now, but itās less convincing.
she takes ahold of his hand and and he smiles lightly.
āiām just.. i donāt know, jack.ā she sighs, āiā iām not okay and i donāt know how to be around anyone when iām like this.ā
jack pressed his lips together, relived that she finally could tell him the truth. he squeezed her hand in his and nodded thoughtfully.
āyeah,ā he says simply. āi understandā he pressed.
that almost makes her laugh. she always laughs when sheās uncomfortable, itās some sort of childhood trigger that heās still bee trying to figure out. but then it turns into something shaky her head drops to look at the floor.
jack leans back against the table, giving her control of the space again.
he says her name tenderly, he pulls her a little closer as he lifts her chin with his finger. āiām not going anywhere,ā he adds like heās already decided.
she looks at him like sheās checking if he means it, or if this is the part where people usually leave.
āyou should,ā she she whispers, tears streaming down her hallowed out cheeks.
ānot your call,ā he interjects making her inhale sharply as he whiles the tears from her pretty little eyes.
he winks at her which earns the smallest reaction from her. the smallest smile tugging at her lips makes his head flop to the side to watch as she looks into his eyes for the first time in what feels like months.
thereās a long pause that settles between them, but itās different now. itās less sharp and more honest. more true.
finally, she sits back down into her chair slowly, like her body has run out of adrenaline.
āiām sorry,ā she says, barely audible.
jack shakes his head once. āhey. donāt do that.ā
āwhat?ā
āapologize for going through a dark patch.ā
that makes her eyes sting, and she hates that it does. he slides the plate a little closer again, not forcing it, just returning it to her space.
āone bite for me, huh?ā he says. āi know you, and i know you forget.ā he says as he sits back down and pushes her plate closer to her.
this time, she lets herself actually let out a laugh. itās a small one.. broken yet real which causes jacks chest to swell in on on himself as he watches her take ahold of the grilled cheese and take a hearty bite.
āannoying,ā she mutters playfully as he watches her chew.
āconsistency is key, my baby,ā he corrects with a smirk.
for the first time in days, the room doesnāt feel like itās closing in on her quite as much.
note: this is sooo insanely self indulgent and smth i thought out when i had a really cute outfit on this last weekend getting coffee + vinyl shopping LOL
the pittlings think the new nurse is so cool. sheās the epitome of an it girl to them and they might be a little obsessed with her.
on victoriaās rare days off, she runs into you at a cafe dressed in head to toe vintage. she swears sheās seen your outfit on pinterest (and probably has it pinned too),
āiām sorry, what are you doing here?ā she asks as you grab your drink from the counter,
āoh, i was just out with my boyfriend! we just came from the record store down the street.ā
āyou have a boyfriend?ā victoria says with wide eyes,
āi meanā not that you wouldnāt, like who wouldnāt wanna date you?ā she awkwardly says. you laugh at her rambling before seeing jack walk through the door of the cafe. you wave your hand down at him and victoriaās eyes get even wider than before,
ādoctor abbot? what are you doing here?ā
āiām here with my girlfriend.ā he says, gesturing towards you. victoria laughs nervously as she pieces things together,
āwell, iāll see you tomorrow, javadi!ā you say as you grab jackās hand and walk out. sheās in so much shock that she misses when the barista calls her name for her drink.
the next morning, victoria enters ptmc more excited than normal,
āwoah, how much caffeine have you had already, crash?ā trinity says,
āyouāll never guess who i saw yesterday!ā victoria starts before recalling her latest discovery,
āare you sure it was him and not just some other old guy?ā dennis asks,
āi swear it was him. i saw him up close and they held hands!ā victoria says, borderline frustrated that no one believes her.
āthereās no way. i mean, with all due respect to doctor abbot, i donāt know if heās her type.ā trinity scoffs. you wander past the group overhearing the last bit,
āwhoās not her type?ā you jump in,
āoh, nothing, crash was just saying this insane thing about running into you this weekend with doctor abbot?ā trinity says as nonchalantly as possibleā though her eyes look as if theyāre screaming for an answer from you,
āoh, yeah! we were just hanging out.ā you say with a smile,
āasā¦?ā dennis tries to press on for more info. you slowly figure out what theyāre trying to ask you. were they talking about you not being jackās type? you decide to play into it a bit,
āi think iāll let you guys figure that out.ā you smirk at the three of them.
they watch you intently as you join jack in one of the trauma bays. he smiles sweetly as he sees you enter and watches as you get to work. trinity decides that this isnāt over and turns to dennis,
ālet ahmad know weāre starting a bet. fifty bucks says theyāre just friends.ā
he needs to be around you at all times. at work heāll search for you if he hasnāt seen a glimpse of you in the last fifteen minutes. half of the time, he doesnāt even speak to you. heās fine twenty feet away as long as he can see your face. thatās exactly why his hands are all over you the second you get home, with his chest pressed against your back and his face in the crook of your neck. heās peppering kisses and whispering sweet words in your ear before you can get off your shoes.
and on the days you say youāre too tired and hot, heāll drag you into the shower with him. some days heāll put the water a bit too cold, saying he has to be pressed against you to stay warm. and itās definitelyyyyyy not his fault when his tip brushes against your clit as heās shoving his tongue down your throat. he was just trying to kiss! and obviouslyyyyyy he has to pick you up because with the both of you in here thereās no way for you to stand without the water getting into your eyes. when his length keeps teasing your entrance and you finally give in, he makes you beg for it a little bit. i mean, yourrrr the one who wanted this.
and when heās cooking you dinner, heās turning around every five seconds just to look at you sitting on the couch while you watch tv. even after heās nicked his finger cutting peppers, and knocked over an entire pan of chicken, he still didnāt learn his lesson. and, honestly, he never wants to.
coming up behind him in the kitchen and just wrapping your arms around his waist, a firm set of abs covered by a soft lil tummy.
laying your head on his stomach while watching an 80ās movie that has a great soundtrack but definitely didnāt age well, head bouncing and vibrating every time he talks or laughs.
his stomach pressing into yours when heās fucking you missionary, flushed and freckled because his irish skin will always always always give him away.
his warm, soft tummy squished up against your back when he has you in a lethal cuddle in bed (more like a headlock, youāre not going anywhere) your skin sticking together
the lil peek of tummy when he lifts his arms to stretch or grab something that you definitely try to bite if youāre in the comfort of your own home. even better if you can see one of your old bite marks fading.
Opening the door: whether it is the car door or just a random door, he will always hold it open for you. And bonus points, if he holds the door for the women behind you, it makes you fall even deeper for him.
Sidewalk rule: he will always walk on the side of the traffic. He will hold you by the small of your back or have his arm around your shoulders, guiding you towards your destination.
Best seat: he will always make you sit in the booth at the restaurant or bar, let you have the window seat at the airplane, that way heās sitting between you and the stranger.
Dressing up: he always makes an effort to dress up when you go on a date or anywhere in general. He sees the effort you put into looking gorgeous for him, so why not return it?
Holding the umbrella: he always holds the umbrella up for you, trying to cover you as much as possible while he gets rained on on one side.
Holding your bags: he will never let you carry your own bag, whether itās your hand bag, backpack, especially your suitcase, he will immediately grab it out of your hands and carry it himself, he wants you to have free hands for coffee and other things.
it'd probably be a few hours into his shift, late enough where you'd be heading to bed, but your mind just can't stop thinking about your complete hunk of a boyfriend and how much you miss him and his touch.
you figure you'd just message him, check in and see how he's doing and be hopeful he's not too busy so he can reply back. besides, how could you possibly fall asleep without jack telling you goodnight?
11:08pm "hi baby, i miss you"
11:10pm "Missing you too honey. You better be going to sleep soon, it's late."
you'd send him a picture of your chest, your breasts spilling out over your tank with the covers pulled up as you're settling in and getting cozy for the night. after typing out your response maybe your hand starts to wander, imagining jack's amused reaction to the image you had sent over.
11:11pm "i know, i am. i'm just missing my jackie baby sooooo badddd"
11:14pm "God baby, you're so beautiful. You don't know what you're doing to me right now. Wishing I was there to take care of you and put you to sleep."
11:15pm "Gotta go honey, got a trauma coming in. I'll call you soon if I can. You better behave lol, love you."
do you ever think about how john's med school rotations and residency happened during covid when racism against asian people, specifically chinese people, intensified and just fucking cry? do you think about how the people he wanted to save started treating him differently, hatefully, and how he decided to push through anyway? do you think about how, maybe, that's why he ended up choosing the nightshift? (my mom used to work nightshifts during covid and told me that it was because patients were less particular with their doctors at that time; how, compounded by pain and just the natural exhaustion, there were less push backs on who was treating who, and because of that she felt a whole lot safer.)
how Jack Abbot would react to people eating MREās
(but itās very domestic)
youāre having your wind down time after work, where you and Jack sit down on the couch, he watches a movie while you scroll on TikTok because thats just what āyour generation doesā says Jack.
heās on the chaise part of the couch with you sitting across from him legs splayed out on top of his thighs while his hand gently rests against your knee and his thumb traces little circles. you learned a long time ago that it was a way he could ground himself, and ever since you thought it was the cutest thing ever.
youāve just had dinner, and are chilling out on the couch to burn some time before going to bed, itās routine pretty much whenever Jackās not working.
you glance up from your phone at him with a slight smile because itās hard not to smile looking at his face.
āJackieā
he turns his head in an instant and nods slightly āyes?ā
āare MREās good?ā
he furrows his brows, slightly surprised you even know what an MRE is, let alone the fact your asking if they taste good. he just shrugs and squints an eye as he ponders his answer
āehh, there not the best. but theyāre alright. why?ā
you nod at his answer, then once he asks why you sit up and move closer to him. legs moving from his lap causing him to frown a little but itās quickly gone because your pressing against his side and thats more warmth. he shifts a little bit throwing an arm over the back of the couch and letting you slide against him even more.
you hold your phone in-front of you, angling it just so Jack could see
āso people have been buying them and doing like a taste testing of them, and i was just wondering what you thought about them, because you had to eat then for likeā¦ ever.ā
he just chuckles a little and nods while he watches you scroll through five different videos of people eating the MREās. he just shrugs a little
āgotchaā¦ yeah there not really all that good but itās the best that you can get while deployed.ā
you give him a nod then he turns back to the TV while also scooting you closer to him and continuing on your regular wind down time.
