you aren’t doing anything. the knowledge is loud and obvious in your head- yet you can’t bring yourself to move. you’re just staring ahead at the bright white computer screen, fingers idle on the keyboard.
“more eye contact,” robby had said to you after watching you on a case, “lets them know you’re really listening.”
you made eye contact. you made plenty of eye contact. well… you tried to.. the truth is you hated it. you hated meeting someone’s expectant and oftentimes panicked gaze. you hated the accompanying feeling of vulnerability- like you were being stripped down by their look alone.
but that didn’t stop robby from being right. you had to get over this stupid, annoying—
“that new AI charting tool read minds too?”
a voice break you out of your thoughts and you whip around only to come face to face with jack abbot’s chest.
“dr. abbot- I—“ you instinctively avert your eyes to look down at the tile below but quickly correct yourself to make eye contact albeit with a small grimace on your face.
“everything okay over here?” he asks gently, a polite smile decorating his features.
“yeah I just—“ you sigh heavily, running a hand over your face in distress, “dr. robby said I need to be making more eye contact.”
“and you’re against that?”
“no! no not at all- I mean I understand it’s important it just makes me uncomfortable,” your voice and gaze gets lower, more unsure with every word.
damn it. this was silly and childish- if the original situation wasn’t embarrassing enough it certainly was now that you’d gone and told your other attending.
jack- seemingly oblivious to your inner turmoil- simply hums in response.
“you wanna know a trick?”
you give a small nod before you find your voice again, “okay.”
“look at their eyebrows,” he leans in to say as if it were a secret.
“their eyebrows?” you furrow your own, thinking surely it couldn’t be that simple.
“s’ close enough to seem like you’re looking at their eyes- works for me when I have a hard time,” he crosses his arms, “here try it on me.”
your fists clench and your body tenses at the sudden test. but after a moment of hesitation your eyes slowly creep up, up, up until they land on his eyebrows.
the two of you blink at each other in silence- until he shifts and your gaze gets knocked down to his legs.
“uh uh,” he tilts his head to follow yours, “c’mon try again.”
your eyes come up to his face again and this time you hold your head to watch as his cheeks rise to make room for his smirk in your peripheral.
I TRIED WATXHING ANIMAL KINGDOM,,, I love pope so much but I couldnt stop getting the ick from everyone else,, I havent gone past the first episode hdksjdskhx
like kneeling in front of him while he manspreads on the couch after a long day.. your collar on but your leash somewhere else in the bedroom because according to jack- his ‘good pup didn’t need it’.
his hand cups your cheek before sliding down to tilt your chin up towards him, his thumb on your bottom lip. he lets out a pleased hum as he slips his thumb into your mouth.
then he’d take out his half hard cock for you to keep nice and warm while you two wind down for the night.. it’s easy to settle into a hazy fog, enveloped in the taste and smell of him.
jack just smiles at your lidded eyes and leans back- he’ll put his readers on and begins browsing through some medical journal on his ipad while the tv plays softly in the background. his hand occasionally brushing your hair back or petting your head…
him slipping two fingers under your collar to make sure it’s not too tight (tugging on it to catch you off guard- smirking at your surprised and flustered appearance).
putting you over his lap so he can gently finger your back hole open for the thick tail plug.. pointedly ignoring how your arousal and the lube drips onto his thigh under you.
then finally clipping the leash onto your collar and asking you to bend forward against the edge of the bed. fucking into you with deep measured thrusts- making sure you feel every inch of him as he fills you up…
robby pounding you into the mattress and laying his body weight on you.. idk man mating press is cool ig…
the whimper you let out is high pitched and needy- quickly followed by a deep groan from robby above you. you can feel yourself leaking onto the covers below, surely leaving a wet spot but you can’t bring yourself to care. all you can think about is him is right now.
“mnggh fuck- needed this- needed you,” he groans into the side of your face as he slides impossibly deeper.
he’s practically laying on top of you. one hand holds yours down on the bed next to you while the other is clenched into a fist as the forearm supports his movement.
it’s like robby’s just trying to get as much skin to skin contact as possible- with his warm, sweaty body on top of you.. you can feel the soft chub of his belly, his happy trail rubbing against your own. his nose nudges your neck, lips sucking incessantly between breathy pants…
as soon as robby’s thick, leaking cock notches against your back hole it all becomes too much.. well- it had already been too much when jack eased himself into you- grunting and gripping at your thighs as he sat you down inch by inch.. your sweat slicked chest pressed against his.
now as robby presses into you it becomes a step above too much. distantly you’re aware of the pathetic moans and loud squelching that fill the room but really all you can focus on is the pressure in your lower stomach- the feeling of just how fucking full you were.
jack had made you cum once after eating you out. a messy concoction of your sweat, cum, and his spit still on his tongue as he came up to make out with you as robby methodically fingered your both of your holes open.. you must’ve came again when robby pushed in-overstimulation creeping in as both men begin to grind against you.
“bein so good for us baby,” robby groans from behind you.
”taking both of us like a pro,” jack mumbles against your ear, burying his face against your neck as he thrusts up inside of you…
a/n : my gift to all the lovely people who’ve followed, liked, reblogged, and commented on any of my stuff <3
summary : reader is about to go on a vacation, robby catches them in a lie (set somewhere between season 1 and 2 of the pitt).
cw : explicit suicide talk- don’t read if you’re not in the right headspace to. (and just in case anyone needs it.. here is a link to 988 lifeline, a free and confidential national suicide and crisis hotline! you are loved, you are important, and you are not alone.)
Breathe. Just breathe.
The cool metal of the fire escape pulls you out of your thoughts as you lean against it. Opening your eyes, you look back out into the city below. It’s dark out but a car drives by on the street below you every once in a while. You stand there- on sore feet and aching knees- listening to them come and go.
The night air nips at your exposed skin and makes the hair on your arms and back of your neck rise.
With another deep breath, you shiver- then slip back inside.
The apartment that greets you is by no means impressive. There’s only one bed and bathroom- almost everything has a thin layer of dust over it. Any essence of cozy or aesthetic is supported by two foundational pillars: the warm lighting that emanates from the salt lamp and the copious amount of stuff hung up on your walls.
The salt lamp was a lucky thrift store find. It had even come with the original packaging that boasted various bogus health benefits. Robby had come over shortly after you bought it- sarcastically asking if you were becoming a hippie after seeing it.
Then there was the wall decor. When you first moved in, the bare white reminded you too much of the pristine interior of the pitt. So you filled them. Every inch with band posters, pictures from the rare casual outings with your fellow doctors and nurses, you even dug out your diplomas to frame and hang on one of your bedroom walls.
You used to feel something when you looked at them. A smile would sneak its way onto your face after locking eyes with a poster from your favorite movie or a photo of Dana smirking or Mckay mid laugh. Even after catching a glance at the crack of dawn before a shift you couldn’t help but grin at your collection of memories plastered all over your walls.
Now you felt nothing.
Even as you stare at a group photo of the first time the four new kids went to this bar the rest of the pitt frequented..
Whitaker, King, Santos, and even Javadi had been packed into a booth- elbows knocking into each other yet they were still grinning from ear to ear in the photo. It had been a good night. You remember coming home, voice gone after laughing too much, tired but happy- full. Yet your lips pull into a line rather than twitching upward as you scan the picture.
They were all good kids. They were going to be amazing doctors.
You nod solemnly as if you were telling them that- as if they could hear you through the picture frame.
They would be okay.
Another heavy breath.
And you would be too.
You lived your life taking one step at a time- one day after the other. This would be no different. Just get to the bathroom first and then—
A knock. Two simple thuds against your front door sound out. Your heart skips a beat- your eyes snap to where they came from, thinking you were just imagining it before two more heavy thuds come.
No one was supposed to be here- you weren’t expecting anyone to come.
When you look through the peephole your eyes shut tight for a second- a quiet curse leaving your mouth before opening the door.
“Hey.”
Michael Robinavitch. Technically your boss and for better or worse- your friend- stood in front of you. His hands stuffed in his pockets, head tilting as he greets you with a tired smile.
“Hi. You gonna let me in or am I intruding on your precious tv time?”
You open the door and step aside, scoffing, “I was just about to go to bed actually. Unlike you I don’t stay up all night watching tv,” the barb comes naturally, the mask of well regulated coworker sliding on with ease.
You move into the kitchen to put on the kettle, set out two mugs, and throw in a teabag into each. This was fine- this was routine, you could do this.
“So.. you had a rough day today..” he starts, crossing his arms and leaning against the counter.
“Every day is a rough day Robby- it’s called being an emergency medicine physician.”
You parrot back what you once overheard him telling Samira. You remember scolding him for being a hypocrite, you remember the way Samira had lit up when you reminded her she was a good doctor. You hoped she would finish out her residency smoothly- move on to bigger, better things.
“You’re grumpy tonight- or more grumpy than usual.”
You sigh, shaking your head, “Yeah I know I’m just-“
“Tired?
“Go figure..”
“Well you’ll have plenty of time to rest on your break.”
You hum in agreement, pouring the boiling water over the tea bag- watching the leaves stain and spread into the clear water.
The two of you sit, simmering in the silence together, occasionally taking a sip but mostly just letting each other be. Robby had begun this little tradition after a hard shift one night. Neither of you wanted to be alone so you invited him over, made him a cup of tea and turned on the tv. It was a short reprieve from work, life- something better than wallowing alone.. Something other than talking about it.
You play your part dutifully. Standing next to Robby, staring into your mug, making it a point not to look at him even though you can feel his eyes on you. Until he glances at his watch, puts his mug down, and stretches.
“Okay- let me use your bathroom then I’ll leave you to your work-free time off.”
“Finally.. was beginning to worry you were gonna spend the night,” you comment sarcastically.
Robby lets out a delighted snort to which you smile at as you take the two mugs and put them in the sink.
But things feel suspended in time as soon as he leaves your view. There’s a tension that builds when you hear the little click of the bathroom door closing- like the gasp before the fall.
A familiar rush of adrenaline fills you, pooling in every inch of your body. Distantly you think about the fear response. About the parasympathetic nervous system and fight or flight and cortisol levels and—
Then Robby walks out. A bottle of pills in one hand and three envelopes in the other. Time lurches forward. You feel something in your stomach drop.
“What is this?”
He doesn’t drag out the ‘wha’. Like how he does when he’s asking you what the hell you’re doing when he catches you stealing a sip of his coffee. His voice doesn’t go high like how it does when he trails off into a laugh- like how it had just moments ago. This is succinct. Three words that form a question you don’t even know where to begin answering.
“Robby-“ every sound you make steals more air from you, no amount of deep breaths can save you now, “I can explain.”
“Can you?”
“Yes- shit- I just-“
“You what? What were you gonna do with these?” He sets the pills and letters down on the kitchen counter, unable to hold them and all the emotional weight they carried.
“..you were never meant to see that.”
What else were you supposed to say? What else could you tell him?
“There’s one addressed to me.”
Shit. Heat rises to your cheeks- you got caught. Your heart feels like it’s being squeezed through your esophagus and up your throat. You shut your eyes tightly as if it could will him away- will all of this away.
“Robby.”
He says your name back, it sounds unsure, different- wrong and scared, on his tongue.
“Listen I’m not- it wasn’t-“ you try.
“What?” His eyes feel like spotlights, highlighting the deer it hit but didn’t kill.
“You’re not what? I find pills and letters in your bathroom right when you’re about to take time off and not assume the worst?!”
“How did you even-“
“Your soap dispenser is almost empty. I was looking in the cabinet to refill it.”
Of course. All he wanted to do was help.
“Listen.. I know it looks bad-“
“Looks bad? This is bad!” He’s yelling now, uncaring of how late it was or if your neighbors would wake up and hear.
“Robby-“
“No. What the hell were you gonna do with-“
“Fuck okay! Fine- you want me to tell you I was gonna kill myself?!”
There’s a heavy, uncomfortable pause. Your stomach drops impossibly lower. You feel lightheaded as you brace for his response.
Robby takes a moment and you can watch as he tries to figure out what to do or say next. His hands go up to rub at his neck then he lets out a quiet call of your name.
“Okay.. Okay. I’m sorry- I shouldn’t have yelled at you,” he shakes his head, “You know I’m here for you-“
”No- no. I am not doing this with you,” your lips curl into a snarl and in an instant all your shame curdles into rage.
Another call of your name, he’s getting desperate- you can feel it. It was the same when he was treating jake’s girlfriend during pittfest.
“That,” he glances at the pills, “Isn’t the only way out of this.”
“Oh right- sorry would you rather have me play with my life on the roof at work?”
It was mean- personal. But he had you backed into a corner and now you were lashing out like the wild animal you certainly felt you were.
“Don’t spin this around-“
“You can’t talk when you don’t care about your life either.”
“..This isn’t about me.”
“God you’re such a hypocrite-“
He was getting desperate but so were you.
“I’m a hypocrite for wanting you alive?!”
“Yes! Fuck- yes- I know you’re used to being the center of attention but not everything’s about you Robby! You don’t get to waltz in and just fucking save the day—“
“I’m not trying to save the day- I’m trying to save you!”
You’re shocked into silence. Defeated? Maybe but from the looks of things he looks like he’s lost too. You let him sit with his words before muttering a small, “Fuck you.”
He curses under his breath, “I’m sorry that-“
“Get out.”
You’re frozen in place, eyes glued to the floor, hands clenched tightly into fists.
“..I can’t.”
“Take the fucking pills and leave.”
Your body moves before you can register what you’re doing as you grab the bottle from the counter and shove it against his chest. He takes it. Tears pool in your eyes, threatening to spill over at any moment.
”Get out of my apartment Robby.”
Still Robby, always Robby.
Somewhere between your curses and confession your heart must’ve got caught on the way up and shoved back down with a thick swallow. You can feel it thumping against your ribcage, begging to be let out. You can feel your lungs fight to get air in. You know that you’re sweating and about to cry and that you need water or something with electrolytes in it.
If you were falling before, you’ve hit the ground by now. Somehow your mind is racing but you can’t think of what to say or do to fix this. You can feel yourself cracking- splintering into a million pieces. All sharp edges and disorganized joints.
Like when someone comes in after a bad car crash. The bits of broken glass stuck in their arm mirror the fractures on the x rays.
You try to stumble away on shaky legs, towards your bedroom, somewhere safe, just not in this room with Robby and the pills and your letters- hand covering your mouth to muffle the sobs that have begun to tumble out. You get about three steps forward before you can’t move forward anymore and sink down against the back of your couch.
Robby’s quick to follow despite his knees and back protesting. You curl in on yourself and move away from him but he puts aside the bottle of pills and wraps his arms around you.
Through your cries you can hear him.. Apologizing. Telling you he loved you. Asking you to stay.
answering these two asks in one post since I had similar responses and figured I might as well put them in one place!
honestly jack strikes me as the kinda guy to buy you things but wouldn’t even think of it as him spoiling you..
like he’ll buy you a super expensive alarm clock and really nice silk sheets/pillow cases- or that new air fryer? he can pick it up this weekend! what color did you want?
but in his mind he’s just taking care of you! giving you what you want because you’re his?? he wants and likes to see you happy so if that silly lookin stuffed animal is gonna make you smile then hell yeah he’s buying it for you.
(he’s also sooo good at catching and remembering what you like/what you want but probably won’t straight up ask him- like he knows your favorite brand and flavor of chips and always makes sure there’s a bag at his place.. or this one time he heard you mention how you needed to replace your toothbrush so he bought you a fancy electric one the next day…)
Hiii Rotten! All your works are so good! Sooo how would you feel writing a fic where abbot fucks reader in front the mirror with his military gear still on after a long day of work. His hand (or arm) around their neck, forcing them to look at themselves. Size kink, the sweat, the grey hair, the SWAT uniform! All the freak. 😼😼
god he looked so good in that uniform…
“fuckkk you’re filthy…” jack mutters as you whine pitifully.
he has you pressed up against the bathroom counter. one hand leaving bruises on your hip while the other sits right above your collarbones- squeezing just enough for you to feel it.
you had caught him while he was trying to undress- tac vest undone but still hanging from his frame with his camo quarter zip underneath. the material rubs uncomfortably against your back every time jack leans in.
“look how needy you are,” he kisses your cheek as you meet his gaze in the mirror through teary eyes, “yeah you’re so good for me.. letting me fuck you like this- haven’t even showered yet..”
“I- ah- I like it like this—“ you sputter out, hands flying up from gripping the counter to holding onto his forearm as he tightens his hold on your neck.
“yeah? you like it when I come home all sweaty and tired?”
if you weren’t tearing up and getting all hazy because of the slight lack of air you would’ve seen the way his lips curl up into a cocky smirk.
all you can do instead is moan in reply as he shoves his cock impossibly deeper into you, forcing you to arch your back in an attempt to stave off the building pleasure.
“should’ve done this sooner,” he groans as you clench around him, ”didn’t know you liked a man in uniform.”
hi rotten !! sooo im really curious about your thoughts on jack x short reader
as a fellow short person im really curious if you think this would be a deal breaker for jack since age gap + someone thats as tall as a 7th grader can be a little weird for some people
fym as a fellow short person. I am. six foot. actually.
height definitely wouldn’t be a deal breaker for jack- if he loves you he loves you. you could be towering over him or a foot below him.
and I mean he’s 5’9- he’s tall but not super tall (especially next to robby (there’s only a 4 inch height difference but that 4 inches matters to me.))
soo here’s some headcanons for him with a shorter reader…
he always tilts his head/does that neck thing to make eye contact when talking to you.
^if you refuse to look at him he has a couple methods he goes to depending on your mood (it ranges from just calling out your name in that quiet bedroom voice adjacent tone to tilting your chin up himself to doing something to catch your attention like brushing your hair from your face).
he tries not to pass things over your head- he will hold doors open with one arm above you though.. (like that one clip of robby holding the door open for kiara).
if you’re the one doing compressions for cpr you have to either grab a stool or get up on the gurney so after you’re done he gives you a hand to help you down.
when you two go out and are in a crowded area he’ll walk a little ahead of you to clear the way, but always keeps a hand behind his back for you to hold so he knows you didn’t fall behind.
a lot of stuff in his place is pretty accessible since he tends to use his wheelchair a lot at home.
you hate it when you have to ask someone to get something thats too high up for you to reach at work but you do also appreciate it when jack does it (mostly cause his shirt always lifts up and you get to see his tummy).
eats it up when he corners you against a wall and you really get to feel how much taller he is than you- fucking loves it when you don’t back down and hold his gaze with a scowl
likes coming up behind you while you’re doing the dishes or brushing your teeth and wrapping his arms around you. will rest his head on top of yours or put his forehead against your shoulder.
HE WOULD SO DO THE STUPID THING OF lets compare hand sizes :) even though he knows for a fact his hands are bigger.
the bit you wrote abt jack paying off student loans added thirty years to my life btw. you just fuckin get it!!!! this is still my oasis i owe u everything fr🤲🏽🤲🏽
ANON!! hihello!!! I’m so glad you liked that blurb and I’m honored to be your oasis <33
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