29/Surpasses Gender/Born in 1805. 👁👄👁 Occasionally full of pussy-popping content about the x-files, hannibal, art, gay shit, and whatever else I come across on this hellsite. 👽✨Other blog: @painterlystateofmind✨
given the current climate this pride especially i feel i must mention that i love my trans friends, i stand with trans people in the fight against transphobic legislation and those who would enforce it, and this blog is not a good place for you to be if you do not vibe with that
I love this post so much. “we used to make posts about loki on here” is the gentlest way possible to describe this website’s history. It’s like saying einstein dabbled in science
Pairing: Dr. Jack Abbot x (recent) girlfriend!reader
Warnings: fluff, possessive behavior?, kissing.
Summary: Turns out Jack's girl is hiding some serious strength right under his nose.
The clock on the gym wall reads just past 3 PM.
With Jack's night shift, training is the only way you two get to see each other some days. This shared time at the gym has quickly become your favorite ritual.
"Alright, I'll spot you," Jack says.
He watchs you adjust the padding on the barbell.
He thinks you’re just going to grab a couple of small five pound plates.
But then you bypass the smaller iron altogether, wrap your fingers around a heavy forty five pound plate, and slide it onto the sleeve of the barbell.
Then, you walk around to the other side and do the exact same thing.
You make this action three times.
He blinks, his eyes dart from the barbell over to you, then back to the barbell. He starts mentally tallying up the math.
Forty-five, ninety, one-thirty-five…
"Doll," Jack blurts out, a mix of disbelief and medical panic in his voice. "Are you sure you can lift that? How much weight is that? Is your spine okay?"
You can't help but giggle at the look on his face as you finish securing the barbell. "Yeah, baby, I'm sure. This is just my standard leg day routine."
"Your standard routine?" Jack repeats, shaking his head with a slow chuckle. He steps in a little closer, shifting his weight and planting his biological foot firmly to keep his balance steady on the rubber matting.
"Seriously, doll, your L4 and L5 vertebrae aren't crying out for mercy right now?"
"They're perfectly happy, I promise," you assure him, sliding your legs under the padded bar and setting your upper back firmly against the bench. "Just watch."
Jack crosses his arms "Alright, but if I have to wheel you into my own ER at seven o'clock tonight because you threw your back out, I am never letting you live it down."
Despite the teasing, his eyes are focused.
He watches as you take a deep breath, brace your core, and drive your hips upward. The bar rises smoothly, locking out perfectly at the top.
"Jesus," Jack mutters under his breath, the protective worry instantly evaporating into pure awe. "Where do you hide this strength, you little human?"
You push through eight clean repetitions, the burning in your muscles matching the focus in your mind. On the final rep, you hold it at the peak before letting the bar find the floor with a heavy thud.
You lean back against the bench, breathing heavily.
"I mean, I knew you were strong, but that?" Jack chuckles and gently squeezes your knee. "You just casually lock out a weight that would make half the interns at the hospital cry."
Before you can even catch your breath to tease him, his hand cups the side of your face. His thumb presses, tilting your head up to meet his gaze. There’s a sudden dark intensity in his eyes, a primal reaction to seeing exactly what you're capable of.
He leans down, his mouth crashing against yours in a kiss that catches you completely off guard.
It’s a sharp contrast to his usual gentle affection; it's heavy, breathless, and intensely demanding, marking his territory right there in the middle of the gym. Your hands instinctively grip his biceps, feeling the hard flex of his arms.
When he finally pulls back just an inch, his thumb strokes roughly across your lower lip. His hot breath against your skin, his eyes fixed possessively on yours.
"Mine," he whispers, his voice sending a sudden shiver straight down your spine.
Shy!reader get sick and she visit the pitt at night
okay so this is set before they are a couple!!
thank you anon! i hope u enjoy <3
—
the waiting room was packed and sticky from the humidity.
almost every single chair was occupied as the television mounted on the wall played quietly over the constant murmur of conversations, ringing phones, and coughs.
she had been sitting there for nearly three hours.
at first she'd thought someone would call her back quickly.
and when an hour had passed, she decided to open her kindle app.
and when another hour passed she just couldn’t focus anymore. her book long forgotten.
because every time a nurse appeared through the doors, her head lifted hopefully before sinking again.
the fever hadn't broken and if anything… it felt worse.
her body ached. her throat burned from the constant coughing, and the room was too bright and too loud.
twice she'd considered walking up to the desk and asking how much longer it would be.
twice she'd lost her nerve.
everyone else looked like they needed help more than she did anyway.
so she waited… and waited… and waited.
by the time someone finally called her name, she nearly missed it.
"miss?"
her head snapped up.
a nurse smiled.
"we've got a room for you."
relief hit her so hard she almost cried.
the exam room wasn't much quieter than the waiting room. voices carried through the hallway. monitors beeped somewhere nearby, and stretchers rolled past every few minutes.
she sat on the edge of the bed, hands folded in her lap, trying not to feel overwhelmed.
was she sitting weird?
what should she say when the doctor arrives?
she sighed, closing her eyes to calm her nerves before the door opened.
a young nurse stepped inside.
"hey, i'm mateo." he offered a friendly smile while pulling up her chart and read her name aloud.
his brows furrowed, recognizing her name but he pushed it to the side as she coughed into her elbow.
“sorry.” she sniffled.
some of her tension started to ease though, because mateo was easy to talk to. he was kind and he was nice to look at.
"so..” he gave her a smile. “what brings you in tonight?"
she explained her symptoms softly.
the fever that just won’t break.
the cough.
the exhaustion.
and the fact that she had barely eaten all day— her stomach would churn and turn whenever she tried to take a bite of anything.
mateo's expression became more serious as he listened.
"how long has the fever been running?"
"um.. about three days, i’d say.”
his head lifted from the notes he took. "hmm, three days?"
she nodded, coughing in the process making her gasp for air.
“sorry.”
"have you seen anyone before tonight?" he wanted to know.
"uh no."
mateo stared. "you waited three days?"
she looked down immediately, clutching her hands tighter together.
“i thought it'd go away." she let out a nervous chuckle.
a cough following suit. she apologized again, mateo smiled, dismissing it with a wave of his hand.
but before he could say anything else, movement outside the room caught his eye.
someone was passing by.
dark scrubs.
broad shoulders.
a coffee in one hand and a chart in the other.
jack abbot. his attending.
mateo looked up.
jack looked in and halted.
for a second, neither man moved.
mateo frowned in confusion.
"what?" he said to jack.
jack didn't answer.
his eyes were fixed entirely on the patient sitting on the bed. a knowing and surprised look plastered onto his tired features.
she was deathly pale.
flushed with the fever.
and suddenly mateo understood.
"oh."
the single word carried far more meaning than it should have.
because mateo knew.
he pulled it out of jack one night, after he came in for a shift with one of those schoolboy smiles— and jack never did that.
jack abbot wasn't dating her.
but mateo kept telling jack that he could if he grew some balls.
jack stepped into the room, opening the door slowly.
"what are you doing here?" his question wasn't harsh.
it was concerned.. deeply concerned.
she blinked up at him.
clearly startled to see him.
"oh! uh.. hi."
mateo physically had to stop himself from smiling.
“he’s my neighbor.” she said to explain.
mateo nodded. he already knew but he’d never tell her that.
jack crossed his arms.
"you're sick."
she looked down at her hands.
"yeah?"
"how’s the fever?"
she hesitated and gaped at mateo.
mateo answered for her.
"well, she’s had it for three days."
jack's jaw tightened.
"three days?"
she shrank visibly beneath the attention.
"i thought it would get better!”
neither of the men in front of her looked impressed.
jack rubbed a hand over his face.
for a moment he looked less like a trauma attending and more like a man trying very hard not to be worried about someone.
yet unfortunately for him, he was failing miserably.
like, really badly.
"have you eaten?"
a pause between her and mateo. jack winced.
"n-no.” she finally let out.
jack closed his eyes.
mateo immediately looked away towards the ceiling, fiddling his thumbs awkwardly because now he was witnessing something deeply personal.
when jack opened his eyes again, he looked directly at him.
"did we order labs?"
"already done."
"fluids?"
"i was about to hang them before you came in." he pointed.
jack nodded at that.
then he looked back at her.
his expression softened immediately.
"so you're gonna sit here," he said calmly, walking towards her bed.
he stoped so close that he felt her knees against his thigh and spoke again, “and you're gonna let us take care of you. and your going to stop apologizing for coughing."
her cheeks turned pink despite the fever.
because she had been apologizing.
constantly.
and of course jack had noticed.
his voice lowered.
"you understand?"
she gave him small nod.
"good."
and for the first time all night, she felt herself relax.
Brendon Park did not get the nickname ‘Park the Shark’ from playing nice with others. An Orthopod through and through, one would be remiss in thinking Brendon was a gentle soul. At least not in the walls of the PTMC. Unless you happened to be a certain R4 in the Pitt; which, thankfully for you, you just so happen to be that R4 he is unusually sweet on.
At one point, the betting board had a corner dedicated to defining yours and Brendon's relationship. Robby, King, and Whitaker had $50 on you just being the person who pissed him off the least. Perlah, Santos, and Langdon had $30 on you being in a friends with benefits situation with the shark. Princess, Abbot, and Ahmed had another $30 on you having some blackmail on him. And there was one name at the bottom, which had later been covered in post-its from another bet, that had $100 on you being married to each other (that bet had suffered days of ridicule, “Seriously, who bet on the shark being hitched to her? Married? You just love losing money huh?”).
Eventually, the corner had mostly been overridden with new bets, but your coworkers never did let the topic die down.
“Seriously, how did you tame the shark?” Santos asked, as she sat down for the third time in an hour, once again attempting to catch up on her charts, “And can you get him to stop glaring at me every time he comes down for a consult.”
You laugh, “I don’t know what you mean, Trin. Park isn’t that bad, he is quite nice when you get to know him.”
“He hasn’t spoken to me in a month!”
Spinning around in your chair, you try and look serious, “Did you deserve it?”
“I mean… yeah, but still!”
You spin back around to your own charting, “It can’t be that bad, have you tried just being nice to him first?”
“No. That only works for you, because you’re so.. Sunshiney.”
“Sunshiney?” you laugh as you stand up, hearing Robby calling you from South 15. “Anyway, if you focus more on your work rather than on Park, then maybe you wouldn’t be so behind on charting.”
Santos waves her hand at you as you walk away, “Yeah, yeah, whatever”
Still laughing, you barely notice the gurney coming your way, or the fact that the paramedic moving it doesn't notice you either. Not until it comes crashing into you at full force. Subsequently, as you crumpled down to the floor, the string of expletives you let out were definitely not becoming for a doctor.
“Oh you motherfu-”
The paramedic, only then looking up from their phone, “Oh shit, are you okay?” They said as they reached down to help you help. For once, you were actually grateful for someone new to be in your space, as they hooked their arms around you and tried to hoist you back up.
Unfortunately, that meant all the weight went back onto your ankle, which you realised was sitting at a very unnatural angle. Despite it not breaking the skin, (which you are very thankful for) You could see how the bone was sitting wrong, and the quickly forming purple bruising is just a cherry on top.
“Do I look-” You start, before collecting yourself, “No I am not, look can you get me back into that chair there.”
You had been pointing to the chair you had just occupied before Santos had appeared in front of you, quickly changing your weight to be leaning on her instead of the paramedic (who had taken to just standing around with their mouth gaping. Seriously, how is this the person who is called out in emergencies?)
Finally, with someone competent, you are moved to a free bed in North 4. And before you know it you had at least three doctors and one med student all around you. It was strange, being on this side of the ER.
“What happened here?” Robby asked, pulling on his gloves as he swarmed the room, "Weren't you meant to be helping me in South 15?”
You pointed at your very bruised and crooked ankle which was being poked by Whitaker “I was until Dopey crashed their gurney into me and turned my ankle into a third grader’s art project.”
“Dopey?”
“Paramedic” You pointed to the other side of the glass, where he was still playing on his phone. “Can you just give me some tylenol so I can get back to work.”
“Nope. This needs an Ortho consult, Santos, call Park down here. Tell him it’s urgent" Robby smiled, trying to be friendly. As he turned back to you, you realised the smile was all from pure happiness. “You know, you’re not as nice as you usually are today.”
“Try having your ankle rearranged by a moving pile of metal, Robinavitch.”
“Bite me.”
Just as Robby turned to reply with even more snark, the curtain was drawn back quickly, revealing a frantic looking Dr. Park. “What happened? What did you do?”
“Why’d you assume it's me?” You say, trying to deflect some of the attention on you away. Being the centre of attention has never been your strong suit.
Brendon just pointed at your ankle as he moved around the bed to assess it. After what seemed like forever (read two minutes), he finally lowered your ankle softly down onto the bed. “Bruised, badly. But you’ll live. Now are you going to tell me what happened baby?”
You could feel the ER freeze up outside of your room at Brendon's name. You had spent years trying to hide your relationship from your coworkers, and up until now you had been doing a pretty good job. Although Brendon never seemed to be a fan in playing along.
“I fought a gurney, and lost.”
“That was clever.”
“Thank you,” you tried to smile at him, but god did your ankle hurt. Almost as if he had read your mind, he passed Whitaker an order for Morphine for you. “Stay with me?”
Brendon shifted you slightly, so he could climb into the bed and pull you into him. “Of course I will, and when the med student comes back with your prescription, I’ll take you home.”
“You know, this is all they’ll talk about for like a month solid.”
“Let them know that you're my wife. It’ll stop the interns from flirting with you.” He said in a suspiciously loud tone. Waiting a moment, he then pressed a kiss into your hair, trying to block your view of Ahmed dejectedly getting out the winnings from the betting pool. “And it’ll stop that stupid betting pool.”
“You could’ve asked them to stop, you know, they’re pretty scared of you.”
“I could have.. Although then I couldn't have placed the bet of us being married.” With that, he gave you one more kiss before standing. “I’m going to collect my winnings, I'll be back baby. Don’t move.”
Sighing, you throw your head back onto the pillow, trying to muster up the energy to be mad at him. But you couldn't because you knew what type of man he was when you married him. Well that, and the fact you know you would manage to get at least half of those winnings off Brendon before the end of the day.
masterlist
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im so back baby! Lemme know if you want to be tagged in more PITT content
brendon park with an er doctor, she's not afraid of him like everyone else, she actually talks back to him and he finds it annoying at first but eventually starts to love their bickering and asks her out after work. just an idea if you're willing to write, i really love your writing!!
I wrote something similar here just w/o that ending of him asking r out anyway they be ✨flirting✨ at this rate lmao it’s kind of short f!reader implied
FISH ARE FRIENDS NOT FOOD
your head rolls to the side, tongue clicking against your teeth as you wait for ortho to get here. a clean cut amputation that needed evaluation.
“what’ve we got?” uttering a finally under breath when you hear him. someone from behind briefing him in.
"thought you'd swim faster, shark."
your words landing with bite. intention. a jeer at the name that apparently started back in his med schools days.
it was past the end of your shift. and you were tired. you knew you weren't the only one. it was selfish really. ignorant even. and you'll apologize about it when you get some sleep in.
"what is it past your bedtime?" he glances to you, his remark short. barely acknowledging you and your annoyance.
"it's also past your life expectancy." you add another.
it’s not a glare he gives as his eyes pan to you from where he stood across the room assessing. it’s just a look you know. that you’ve seen plenty of other times. like he was expecting it even if he doesn’t show it in his expression.
his eyebrows were leveled.
everyone was practically clutching their pearls.
the relationship you had with brendon park was interesting to say the least.
not friends but also not friendly. according to you. but to those who witnessed the interactions you had with the orthopedic surgeon, thought it to be anything but that. because park the shark didn't just take time like that to entertain just anybody.
he didn't like it. it annoyed him to no end. at first.
but you had become a familiar face for him to see each time he came to the ed.
“I was working. something you should be doing.” park uttered drily.
“I am working, but now you’re here and I can’t help if I’m attracted to that charming personality of yours.” it couldn’t have been said with a more deadpanned face. the look on your face almost equivalent to the one he wore daily. you swayed on foot.
“I strive to be delightful.” he said flatly, looking away.
the side of your mouth lifts faintly, a ghost of a grin. a tired one.
he takes his gloves off, orders falling from his lips that are repetitive. expected. already knowing his expectations. so you drown him out. it begins to sound muffled in your ears. almost like when you’re under water. only resurfacing and grasping the last of his words.
“—prep for OR.”
you nod, automatically. assuming he’s referring to the amputee. but when your eyes catch his, you see he’s already looking at you. undivided attention. eyes practically pinning you to the floor. awaiting.
oh absolutely not.
your head is already shaking, beginning to understand why.
“it’s past my shift, park.” you grit.
“like I said, prep for OR.” he repeats, something he never does, and leaves. no room for arguments. you turn and watch him sail out. Your head swiveling, trying to find anyone in the same proximity as you that he might’ve been referring to. even if it was said directly to your face. you see robby, whose lips are pursed obnoxiously, shoulders shaking as he rips his own gloves off.
albeit being in the same boat you are with the amount of exhaustion, he finds it all too amusing. your eyes find his; pleading for him to do something.
he laughs harder.
“kid, you’re an attending now.”
“and you’re the chief, michael.” you make a face. trying to grasp any excuse to get him to get you out of this. his head went side to side. “technically I’m just robby right now since day shift ended a few hours ago.”
“and technically, you’re still here.” you argue. desperate. arms crossed as you look to your fellow attending.
he offers you a half shrug. “so is Abbot.”
“Abbot isn’t chief.” you were getting annoyed. more than you already were.
he gives a tired smile.
“this is what happens when you’re friendly with shark.” patting your shoulder in faux sympathy and walks out.
“we’re not friendly— oh for fucks sake.” dismissing yourself and your words as you wave it off and head upstairs.
you were awake now.
—
whatever you were feeling before surgery was nothing like what you’re feeling now.
you. were. tired.
exhausted.
eyelids heavy. eyes stinging. legs stuttering as you walked. barely even a person right now. only wanting to get to the elevator as soon as possible even if it was just a step compared to how much further you have left to get to bed.
your body leaned against the railing in there. head falling to the side as you close your eyes. briefly you told yourself. just for a little while. your body barely even responding to the doors sliding open again. someone stepping in.
“bedtime?”
if you weren’t so damn tired, you would’ve said something. told him off even. give him your famous bite me that you say all too often every time he’s in the ed. ironic given his nickname.
but you didn’t. rather than your usual jabs, you give him a faint snort. an exhausted look and a small smile to offer as you open one eye. you turn to him.
“it is past my bedtime.” you confirm with a breathy laugh.
its probably the first time park has seen you like this. no doctor front. no guard up. no you using humor as a mechanism. just you.
“not too bad up there.” he says it low. not even looking at you. referring to the surgery you just got out of. the one you pleaded at robby about. you open your eyes fully.
“I’m gonna need that in writing.” you joke. letting out another breathless laugh. park gives you a side glance.
“gotta have something to back me up when I tell everyone that park the shark was nice to me.” you shrug after explanation.
“I’m always nice to you.” he argues, poorly. drily. the words uttered as if it was obvious. the look you gave him said otherwise. “is it like a free trial period then?“
his expression changes. the movement almost missed if you hadn’t been watching him. the slight asymmetric pull to the corner of his mouth.
you broke him you think
you’re a little more awake now. too aware as you step out of the elevator.
“you off tomorrow?” he asks as he holds the elevator door. blue eyes stare back you.
“you mean today?” you correct with a lilt. head rolling to the side as you wear a satisfied grin. it was already past midnight. early morning.
the surgery had taken longer than expectated. something you couldn't refuse to jab brendon about in the OR— commenting on the many times he’s performed this type of surgery in only a few hours but can’t seem to do it now. you were sure everyone in the there held a breath. aside from the sound of the machines and your breathing, it was quiet. and instead of being met a look of a man whose skill was just insulted, they saw something else entirely. because while the staff downstairs were well aware of you and brendons interactions, upstairs had yet to see that side of him.
you liked giving the man a hard time. annoying if you must say.
you work in the same place, it’s a hospital for gods sake, you know things can happen out of nowhere, it was obviously you joking. not that anyone could tell. probably not the best time to do so either but you and park have bickered and bantered— if could call it that— in far more worse cases.
he looks unimpressed by your response.
“I am off though.” you answer, sparing him from your ways. his eyes steady, linger, before nodding.
he takes a small inhale. and then exhales through his nose. “get some sleep. I’ll call you.” park orders. tells. backs up into the elevator again and then realizes he’s not on shift so he fixes his words.
“is it okay if I call you?”
it takes a minute for your mind to catch up. lack of sleep getting the best of you in the moment. because where was he going with this?
you slowly nod.
“get some sleep then.” he offers, and leans up against the railing.
“you too, brendon.”
his eyes unwaver from yours at the use of his name falling from your lips. and just before you see him disappear behind the closed doors.
Did I ever talk abt the time i was at a bdsm club and one of the pups was on all fours and barking and being cute and the dom on scene was like “hi puppy! Do you do any tricks?” And he said “I can beatbox!”
I was like. Doubled over incapacitated laughing the entire time. He was really good and a big sweetheart and I felt kinda bad but I couldn’t stop thinking “why the am I getting the beatboxing puppy unskippable cutscene at the bdsm club”
Thinking about how Jack Abbot would literally never leave you alone during gatherings. It's Dana's birthday bbq so of course the Pitt is invited to her house for it.
Trying to be a good guest you're up on your feet making sure drinks are being replenished, kids aren't getting hurt, and that everyone is just having a good time.
Queue in Jack Abbot who could not stop himself from grabbing your waist when you're standing, locking his fingers with yours when you're going somewhere. You feel his back behind you when you're helping Robby cut more cucumbers, feel his hand on your lower back when you're just talking with John.
And by the end of the afternoon you just feel Jack all around you which is a nice change considering his work hours and night shift preferences.
And on the way back home it's his turn to feel you all around him as he's got you folded in the backseat of his car, pounding away at your wet folds. He couldn't even wait for the full drive back home, not when you look so good in your sundress, not when you had been so nice with the kids present, not when he just loved you so much.
You deserve so much which explains why he doesn't stop after you cum the first time, swallowing your moans with his mouth. He hoists your legs higher up his shoulders and doesn't even flinch as your moans turns to screeches, his thick cock pistoling deep into you, his thumb finding your clit and toying with it.
He loves the way your eyebrows furrow in concentration, can't get enough of the lewd sounds escaping from your pretty little lips, can't get enough of how you feel squeezing him to completion.
He wasn't sure how many times he made you cum on the side of the road, all he knew is that you deserve to cum as many times as possible.
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