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@pittresilience
JACK ABBOT
please read Rules before interacting.
this is a sideblog and follow backs will come from @alwaysxinxtrouble
mains: @goodn1ghtnurse, @rabbit-bitxh, @formerfirstson, @pittpedes, @scribedhorror, @sympatheticdominance, @thenamesallison, @slowmo-md
open starters memes
Send "Stop talking" for your muse to shut mine up by kissing them (Jack)
"The nerve--" Ally had been rambling for the last several minutes, and she knew it, but she just couldn't help herself. She had been on a political outreach trip with the X-Men when a bunch of anti-mutant protestors showed up, armed with rotten fruit and slurs to throw at them. The fruit never hit its target and the slurs fell on deaf ears, but Ally was outraged nonetheless. She could have kept going--would have kept going--if Jack's lips didn't suddenly crash into hers. Whatever word she was on was swallowed and muffled into a surprised noise.
Despite that, she kissed him back, not trying to pull away or finish her sentence; she melted against him, hands moving to his sides.
The second she melts against him, Jack knows he's successfully derailed whatever rant had been building for the last ten minutes. One hand settles at her waist while the other comes up to brush a few strands of hair back from her face. When the kiss finally breaks, he's smiling despite himself.
"There she is," he murmurs, forehead resting briefly against hers. "I was starting to think I'd lost you to righteous indignation."
His thumb brushes lightly against her side as he studies her face for a second. The amusement softens around the edges, replaced by something warmer. "For the record, they're idiots," he says quietly. "The protesters. Not the X-Men." The corner of his mouth twitches. "Although if you were planning on giving me the full two-hour version of that story, I stand by my decision to interrupt."
continued from here {x}
There wasn't a doubt in his mind she knew exactly what she was doing with the way her teeth sank into her bottom lip, cementing it with the fingers slipping beneath his scrub top. A slow deep breath in and out through his nose, trying to reel himself back in despite how she was adding fuel to the flames.
"A promise." His voice was low with a husky rasp to it. Despite the threat, he made no move to stop, hands remaining at his sides. "And you are well on your way to getting a red ass to go with it if you don't stop."
@goodn1ghtnurse
His words send a thrill through her veins, heat settling low in her stomach. Already feeling almost breathless with want, Allison softly scratches the blunt of her nails against his skin, still hidden below the counter. A promise of her own.
"Alright, darlin'. Five minutes, come prove you mean it." Then she pulls away, as much as she doesn't want to stop touching him, to turn away and find a nice empty supply closet. Thankfully an easy task, not at all as much of a struggle as waiting for him to join her.
The second she disappears around the corner, Jack lets out a slow breath and drags a hand across his face. "Five minutes," he mutters to himself, already knowing neither of them had any intention of waiting that long. He finishes the chart in front of him with considerably less focus than usual before stepping away from the desk.
By the time he reaches the supply closet, a faint smirk has settled at the corner of his mouth. He gives the door two quiet knocks before reaching for the handle. "You know," he calls through the door, voice low with amusement, "most people use these rooms for storing supplies." The smile widens slightly. "HR is going to have some very strong opinions about both of us."
( anon ) rumor has it you're in love with a vampire
"Wha - what?! Vampires aren't real. Grow the fuck up."
@bysk1ppy
Not Himiko messing with Jack's head
"Please tell me I didn’t cry over pizza last night."
A laugh escapes before Jack can stop it. Not a mean one. Just the kind that says he's already remembered exactly what happened.
"No, you didn't," he says, shaking his head as he sets a mug of coffee down in front of her. "You cried over pizza and people who put fish or fruit on it. Apparently pineapple was a personal betrayal."
The corner of his mouth twitches as he slides a couple aspirin across the counter toward her.
"Here. Coffee and aspirin for that hangover." He jerks a thumb toward the kitchen behind him. "I've got a greasy breakfast cooking for you. Should help soak up whatever alcohol is still floating around in your system." A brief pause follows before he adds, dryly, "And before you ask, no, I'm not telling you everything else you said until you've had caffeine."
@livesaved
someone should give Jack a reason to give them the *look*
“I’m too old for you, kid,” before he is rearranging your guts
Pst.... Abbot, so the gossip well that you know I have, wellll Rumor has it....that you've been arrested on a date before.
"It happened ONCE. Luckily, one of my SWAT buddies as at the station and had us released after chewing out the officer for arresting me in the first place. Ironically, still the best first date I've ever been on. Definitely worth the bruised tailbone."
@pittbats
Send “Rumour has it...” and a rumour about my muse in my ask!
My muse will then react to it being spread.
half asleep morning sex that’s sooo lazy and slow, his hands hot beneath your shirt, your ass grinding back against him, his lips on your throat
continued from here {x}
The hand on his shoulder almost earns a reflex shove—muscle memory, adrenaline not fully burned off yet—but it stops short the second he registers who it is. Jack exhales hard through his nose, tension still wired tight under his skin as he lets himself be steered without putting up the fight he wants to. “I said I’m fine,” he mutters anyway, automatic, even as he steps into the room and lets the door shut behind them. The quiet hits different—heavier, harder to ignore.
Park’s tone cuts through whatever argument he had lined up next, and Jack’s jaw tightens, but he doesn’t push it further. Instead, he reaches for the buckle of his vest, stripping the gear off piece by piece until it hits the floor, movements slower now, more deliberate. “It’s just shrapnel,” he adds, like that makes it smaller. Like it doesn’t matter.
His hands drop to his waistband next, fingers working at the buckle, then the button, a little less steady than he’d like. “I bet you’re loving this,” he mutters, rough, not quite looking back at him as he starts unbuckling his pants. "I don't remember you using gloves last time."
@kinard-luca-street-deacon-chris
Jack opens his mouth to argue the second he hears doctor's orders, but nothing comes out.
A few months ago he probably would've fought it. Pointed out staffing shortages. Listed six reasons he needed to be at the hospital. Invented three more. Instead, all he manages is a tired exhale through his nose as Park settles closer and kisses him. "Abuse of power," he mutters weakly. "Pretty sure that's an HR violation."
The complaint loses most of its conviction when he leans into the touch without thinking about it. His eyes drift shut for a moment as Park's hand moves carefully across his ribs. The pain is still there. The exhaustion is definitely still there. But neither feels quite as overwhelming as it had a few hours ago.
"Yeah, alright," he says quietly when Park tells him to sleep. One arm shifts across Park's waist, keeping him there as he settles deeper into the mattress. "But you can't tell anyone I listened to the doctor's orders." The corner of his mouth twitches faintly. "I have a reputation to maintain."
The joke is the last real effort he makes. Within minutes his breathing starts to slow, the tension gradually leaving his shoulders as sleep finally catches up to him. For once, he doesn't fight it.
Jack's "you're being a brat and I'll deal with that attitude later" look.
I’d love you forever if you left my boy a surprise in the inbox. I need the distraction while I’m here.
CONT
@pittresilience
Shane stares at Jack for a long beat, his expression flat except for the faint furrow between his brows that deepens the longer the other man talks. The monitors beep steadily beside him, and he shifts slightly against the pillows, wincing as the movement pulls at bruised ribs.
He lets the silence stretch just long enough to be uncomfortable before exhaling through his nose.
"...Truth," he says finally. His voice is low, a little rough from disuse and whatever pain meds they're pumping into him. He meets Jack's eyes with the same stubborn calm he's been wearing since they brought him in, though there's a reluctant glint of amusement buried under the exhaustion.
He lifts one shoulder in a minimal shrug. "Ask your question, then."
His tone makes it clear he's not exactly thrilled about playing games in the middle of the ER, but he's even less thrilled about the alternative—actually explaining how he ended up here.
For a second, Jack doesn't say anything. The answer earns a slight shift in his expression—not pity, not surprise. Just acknowledgement. Like he's filing the information away somewhere in the back of his mind. The humor fades briefly around the edges. "Yeah," he says after a moment. "That one's got some competition."
The quiet doesn't last long. Shane's smirk appears, and Jack immediately points at him again. "See, that's exactly the kind of answer that makes me suspicious." The corner of his mouth twitches. "Normal people don't answer 'what's the dumbest thing you've ever done' with an existential crisis."
He shakes his head, leaning back slightly on the stool. "That's advanced-level bad decision making. That's not amateur hour. That's years of dedication to the craft." His tone stays dry, but there's no real judgment behind it. If anything, he sounds impressed by the commitment.
The return question earns a thoughtful hum. Jack folds his arms across his chest and considers it for a second before nodding once. "Truth." One eyebrow lifts. "Let's see what kind of damage we're doing tonight."
Kiss my soft lips… then leave nasty bite marks on my body. 💞
