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Sharon | 28 | formerly @peakyxtommy |Masterlist |

[serenityxwithin]

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[loluy]

What are you going to miss the most, Mac? - Jo ...Your friendship. And your Post-it notes. - Mac

You're gonna be a great CSI one day. - Mac Thanks, boss. - Adam

I'm not as strong as I used to be. - Mac That's a load of crap and you know it. You're not as young as you used to be, but you're certainly as strong. What's that phrase the kids use? "Man up, Mac." - Sid

Thanked you for saving my life. For always having my back. - Don You're a good cop, Don. A good man. And a good friend. The loss didn't equal the gain. - Mac

You should get married, Sheldon. Start a family. - Mac Ah, you sound like Jo. - Sheldon Well, Jo's not wrong, you know. - Mac ... You can still be a father. - Sheldon Now you sound like Jo. - Mac

I don't even know her, somehow I'm proud of her. Sometimes you have to do what's best for you and make a change.- Mac Why do I get the feeling this conversation isn't just chit chat. -Lindsay

I love you, Mac. I love you, too, Danny.

CSI: NY (2004 – 2013)

[midnightgardentales]

Could you do Jack Abbot x wife reader? She is clumsy, bumping into thing, tripping over thin air and just make him feel like wrapping her in bubble wrap🤣 Imagine him carrying her everywhere because he can’t even trust her her to walk straight 😭😭😭 Idk how it goes, it’s up to you. Thanksss :)))

💞Tags/Warnings💞: slight age gap marriage, fluff, AttentiveHusband!Jack Abbot, hurt/comfort, AccidentProneWife!Reader so talks of injuries

💞Plot💞: Jack Abbot absolutely adores his wife. But sometimes he wonders how the hell she made it this far..

💞Characters💞: Jack Abbot x Fem!Reader

💞Title💞: Oops

💞A/N💞: This is such a funny idea. I really hope you like it 🤭

((Requests are ALWAYS open))

Masterlist

Jack Abbot loves his wife.

Any moment spent with her is another moment where he knows true happiness. Any moment spent away from her is another moment where he knows true longing..

The two had met one early morning in spring. Jack was walking back to his building after a long night shift and stumbled upon the most beautiful woman he’d ever met..-

Now here’s where Y/N would interrupt his retelling of events with the truth.

Because in reality, she was a sweaty mess.

Hair tied sloppily to keep it away from her face, no makeup on, and in the most low effort outfit she could manage. It was moving day after all. There was no need to look put together. But to Jack, she looked effortlessly gorgeous..

She sat at the steps of his apartment building, cradling her ankle with a pout playing on her lips. Jack stopped to check in on her and she explained that her friends were supposed to help her move, yet they were running late. She had begun moving things on her own but had stepped wrong on the steps while exiting the building.

Now, one thing about Jack Abbot should be made clear here. This man… Loved playing hero.

It’s what pushed him into medicine. It’s what got him through the military. It’s what made him perfect for SWAT. And it was his favorite thing to do for pretty women. Maybe it was his age showing, but Jack truly believed the best compliment a guy could receive from his woman was a cheesy ‘you’re my hero!’ line.

So without much hesitation, Jack offered up his services. Even while exhausted, even while sore. And when receiving permission, he scooped Y/N up and carried her to her apartment. Setting her carefully on her couch, Jack worked first as her doctor. Then, he worked as her personal mover.

To thank him officially, Y/N would surprise him a few days later with a bottle of white wine, he’d let it be known that that was his favorite drink, and some playing cards since he’d joked with her that, as a veteran, he knew all the best card games.

The two were meant to be from that night on..

But for as much as Y/N was his dream girl, there were just a few times where he’d look at her, shake his head, and wonder how the hell she had survived so long without being in a giant bubble of protection..

These are those times..

{ Number One: The Kitchen Incident.. }

Y/N had been trying to help Jack make dinner one night, when she somehow managed to knock over his spice rack instead.

Trying to help clean it up only resulted in her cutting herself on the broken glass.

Jack, with a sigh and a fond smile, just scooped her up and placed her on his kitchen counter top.

He tended to her injury and then, with a quick kiss to her temple, handed her a bowl to stir.

“Wha… I can still help!” She tries bashfully as he softly chuckles.

“Baby. Just.. Supervise from up there." He says with a slight tease to his voice before pressing another kiss to her forehead.

“It’s safer for everyone." He continues jokingly, making her playfully pout.

{ Number Two: The Morning Mishap }

Y/N was still half-asleep when she rolled out of bed.

Trying to get ready for the day, she ended up blindly bumping into the bathroom doorframe, stubbing her toe.

“Ah! Fuck!”

Jack was up fast, blinking the sleep from his eyes. He had just gotten home about an hour ago. Looking over, he’s met with his gorgeous wife on the bedroom floor, holding her foot as she tries to stay quiet with her angry grunts of pain. It’s as if she truly was trying not to wake him up right now..

He eyes her with slight amusement before getting out of bed with no words exchanged. She didn’t need to ask for his help, he’d always provide it.

Turning on the bedside lamp in order to fill the room with some soft lighting, Jack walks over, scoops Y/N up, and carries her into the bathroom. Just to make sure she doesn’t encounter anymore obstacles.

Setting her on the bathroom sink, Y/N sheepishly mumbles a thank you while he moves to turn on the shower. He then goes back to her, resting his forehead against hers with a soft sigh of content.

“Don’t mention it, beautiful..” He whispers softly with a small smile.

{ Number Three: The Romantic Picnic Situation }

Jack had planned a beautiful picnic in the local park after a very long week of just work and responsibilities.

It was supposed to be a day to just relax and take in the sun.

As Y/N is walking to their spot by the lake, basket in hand, she stumbles on a perfectly flat patch of grass.

Luckily, Jack had been holding her other hand, and quickly yanked her towards him before she could fall flat on her face.

He can’t help but laugh in slight disbelief as he softly pulls her closer to his body. “How does that even happen?” He asks, smiling down at her when she begins fussing sheepishly that there must be a rock there that she’d tripped over.

There wasn’t..

{ Number Four: The Garden Emergency }

Jack Abbot was a man of many hobbies.

One of which happened to be gardening.

In order to spend more time together, Y/N decided one morning to help him, despite his reservations.

“Jackie, please. I can be real helpful..” She gives her best puppy dog look. He grumbles softly.

Those damn eyes would always work on him.

Within five minutes though, Y/N had managed to somehow prick her finger on the rose bush she’d been tasked with caring for.

She tried hiding it, but Jack had already heard her soft yelp when it happened. He gives her a knowing glance, holding out his hand for hers. With a dramatic sigh, Y/N sets her hand in his and he hums, leaning down to kiss it better..

{ Number Five: The Christmas Debacle }

It was Christmas time.

More specifically, it was Y/N and Jack’s first Christmas living together, and Y/N wanted to make sure the house was perfect.

Jack had taken the day off in order to help fully decorate the house, and also because he had a hunch he’d need to watch over Y/N..

She was trying to hang some tinsel on their tree, but the step stool had begun to feel wobbly. Maybe it was her determination, or her faith that Jack would be watching out for her, but either way, she wasn’t fazed by the constant teetering.

Sure enough, she starts to sway a bit as she gets on her tip-toes, so close to the perfect spot on the tree for the pink tinsel. Jack, who had been watching her with a fondness, immediately rushes over, catching her by her hips and gently tugging her off the stool.

“I’m not even gonna risk that..” He jokes as he carries her to the sofa.

“I could do it!” She complains lightheartedly, knowing with her luck she would’ve just ended up in the tree or on the floor..

“I got a better job for you, my love. Hm? Chief Decorator..” He jokingly presents the title like it’s massive. “How’s that sound, hm?” He gently tucks her hair away from her face as she playfully glares up at him.

“Sounds like a made up title..” She plays along as he smirks.

“Nah. It’s the most important job, baby. I'll handle the physical work. You just point where.." He assures softly as she bites back a smile, acting as if she’s begrudgingly taking the ‘job’..

!!The End!!

[cryptic-doe]

jack never argues with his girl. on the rare occasion that he does, he never ever raises his voice at her. on the other hand, she'll yell and scream while fighting. from the beginning, he's known about the small temper that she can get when something really sets her off. a bad trait passed down to her from her father. so he lets her get as loud as she needs/wants to. once she finally takes a deep breath and stops, he'll just give her that look that says, "you done?" and maybe he'll let her get her frustrations out even more in bed.

[se7entyrell]

Oooo moodboards!! Pls could I request an aquarium date moodboard with Jack? He'd love hearing you yap about all the fish and He'd get cute photos for sure

You're not entirely convinced that Jack is fully listening. He's definitely trying - nodding in all the right places, and snapping pictures dutifully.

But every so often he'll interject with a question:

Wait... which one is that again?

And that's the one that -- right, yeah. Okay.

The yellow's your favourite?

He knows nothing about fish, or the ocean, but he tries for you, and that's what matters.

Hand slipped through his, you guide him through room after room, chattering away. You can't help yourself. Previous boyfriends haven't cared about the facts you love - whether it be the aquarium, or music, or sports.

Jack cares about everything that's important to you.

"What are you looking at?" He mumble, eyes crinkled as he catches you staring at him.

You fight the heat rising to your cheeks. "Just you."

[loves-alibi]

Jack Abbot likes them difficult. (f!reader)

He should probably feel emasculated, insecure that you were the one to punch that douchebag in the face when he made that comment about your ass. But the truth of the matter is that Jack couldn't get a proper hit on him in his chair and, frankly, it was really fucking hot to see you punch him.

"Let me see it."

At his place, Jack slides a glass your way. You stare at it then him before grabbing it with your good hand. The other one stays cradled to your chest, even as you down the scotch.

Your face doesn't twist even a little, "That tastes expensive."

"It is," Jack takes a sip from his own glass, letting smoke and honey melt on his tongue. He sets it down and says, "Now let me see your hand, sweetheart."

Your chin raises slightly. Jack leans forward, almost pleased by your defiance, but the tremor in your good hand, the ever present pinch of discomfort in your face, tells him that you're in pain. Pain that he would like to ease.

"Alright then," Jack picks up the top of his decanter, securing it. "Let's go then."

"Go?" You stand up when he wheels himself from the table. "Go where?"

"PTMC. Somebody has to make sure you didn't break your hand." Jack shrugs, grabbing his keys from the kitchen counter. "You don't want me to look at it– that's fine. Robby can."

You make a noise of outrage, halfway between a guffaw and and a strangled gasp. "Are you kidding me?"

"No, now come on."

"Jack, I can't show up looking like this!"

He tilts his head, peering over his shoulder to look at you. "Like what?" He asks, as though he's not staring at your tits, plump and popping out of the low-cut top of your dress.

You purse your lips, "Looking like I was one right hook away from fucking my boss."

Now that makes him pause. The two of you showing up together would be very much less than ideal. Sure, he could just drop you off and tell you to sort things out, but that'd be a surefire way to not get a second date, and the half-chub Jack has been sporting since you socked that asshole would very, very much like to get a second date.

"Dr. Abbot it is," Jack says. "Sit back down."

Reluctantly, you do. As he pulls his chair up, you down the rest of his scotch and shrug at the pointed look Jack gives you. "What?" You say, presenting your mottled hand, "I'm not the doctor tonight."

Jack grunts and takes you by the wrist. You whine softly as he turns your hand, observing the blood caked on your knuckles. "Move your fingers for me," he says softly. You do. He brushes your fingertips, "Any numbness?"

You shake your head, "No."

Jack puts your hand down, running his thumb over your split knuckles. The first aid kit sits in the corner of his vision, but he hesitates, savoring the feel of your hand in his.

"So, doc," you say, licking your lips. With your hand still in his, you lean closer to Jack. Your mouth hovers over his. "Am I gonna live? Because I have a hot date that I'd like to get back to."

Jack's lips quirk, "Careful sweetheart, don't want your date getting jealous."

"Oh, he won't mind," you kiss the corner of his mouth. "I promise."

"Well then, maybe I won't discharge you just yet," Jack lets go of your hand to grip your waist. "Keep you all to myself."

You chuckle, "I like the sound of that, doc."

[weird-is-life]

Clingy

Pairing: Jack Abbot x fem!reader

Summary: You are worried that Jack might not want you anymore when you are clingy even after an argument (1k)

Warnings: requested, angsty, reader and Jack have a silly argument, fluff, pet names, kissing, mentions of ice-cream

----------------------------------------------------

"I can't do this right now. I'm going for a ride to clear my head." Jack announces loudly with an angry sigh.

There has been a silly argument going on for at least 10 minutes now, and nobody is easing up. The frustration only grows bigger and bigger with each word.

And you both hate it. Jack hates your watery eyes and small pout. Even if your words are heated, your face is all soft and upset, it makes Jack feel bad and sick at the same time. He hates fighting with you, it doesn't happen often, but it makes his guts squeeze every time.

Jack doesn't give you time to say anything to it as he grabs his car keys and stalks towards the garage.

You stand in the middle of the kitchen for a few seconds, deciding on what you should do.

Sure, he really pissed you off, but at the same time the only person that can bring you comfort is him. And you don't want to be all alone and sad in his big house. You hate being away from him, even if you are mad at him.

You pad on your bare feet towards the garage, and stop in the doorway unsurely. Jack's already in the car, waiting for the garage door to roll up.

He sees you fiddle nervously with your sleeves before you finally walk up to the car. He rolls the window down because yeah, he might be mad but he'd never just blatantly ignore you.

"Can I... C-Can I come with you? Please. I'll sit in the back and I promise I won't say anything. I just...Can I?" Your wet, big eyes practically plead to let you in. To not be left here. You're scared that maybe if you let him go all alone, he might realise he doesn't want you one night.

Jack's eyes soften a bit, and you hear the lock open on the door. You immediately jump inside the car, not giving him a second to change his mind.

You quietly sit in the back as Jack backs out of the garage and starts driving down the road.

It doesn't take long for Jack's pent up energy to sizzle out. Especially, when he hears you sniffle with your runny nose every once in a while.

Jack tries to catch your eyes in the mirror but you just won't look his way, eyes strained on the road. And he can't have his best girl looking so, so down. Especially because of him. So he pulls into the nearest parking lot.

Jack kills the engine and jumps out. He rounds the car, opens your door all while you watch him with confused, but hopeful gaze.

"I'm so sorry, angel. I shouldn't have let it get so heated. And I shouldn't have tried to leave. I'm an idiot." It's his defence mechanism, he'd rather leave and cool down before he'd say something and regret it later.

Jack's hands hover inches away from you, holding onto the cushions next to your thigh.

"I'm sorry, too. I'm sorry for yelling. And for making you take me for the ride with you, I was just...." You stop talking before you can say too much. You don't want to sound crazy.

You turn to him, and his hands immediately move and settle on your hips.

"What is it?" Jack's thumb brushes your exposed tummy. He softly urges you to answer his question. You both need to talk it out even if it can hurt.

"I was worried you might not want to be with me anymore." You explain sheepishly, eyes everywhere but on him.

"Wait, baby." He frowns at you. "Do you always worry about that after an argument?" He can remember all of the times you two argued, and every time you didn't let him go cool off alone. It's basically a routine by now that after you argue, you two go for a ride together.

You just nod, embarrassment settling in. "Why didn't you say something?" God, it pains him so much to think about it.

"Don't know. I was just worried." You shrug, but it's far from casual. You look like you might die from embarrassment any second now.

"Fuck, sweetheart. You know, that no matter how much we fight, I'm not leaving. You're it for me baby. There's nobody else I'd rather be upset with."

"Don't you think it's annoying though? Me being so...so clingy." Jack thinks that surely you must be joking. You look so uncomfortable at your skin as you ask him that, that Jack's swears he must be doing something wrong if you feel like that.

"Sweetheart, if it was up to me, we'd literally be attached to hip 24/7. I love being with you. You're my favourite person ever." Jack states, words all lovey and honest. Your eyes water from it, it overwhelms you for a second because it was exactly what you wanted, needed to hear.

"You're my favourite person, too." You mumble out, your hands sneaking out of your long sleeves to squeeze his. Jack chuckles because only now he notices it's his big-ass hoodie you have on.

"I love you, angel. So all is forgiven?"

"Yes." You nod quickly and lean in for a very much needed kiss.

You can barely even remember what the fight was about as his lips move against yours, and both of your bodies finally relax.

"I love you too, Jack." You breath out against his lips. He pulls away with a gentle smile and wipes away the left wetness on your cheeks with tender hands.

"Do you want to go get ice-cream?" Jack suggests, and your face lights up as you nod sheepish.

"Okay, c'mon, need my girl next to me." He scoops you up before you can protest and manages to put you in the front seat, all while you giggle at him.

Save to say, you and Jack might argue sometimes, but your feelings for each other never change.

[weird-is-life]

Ruined vacation?

Pairing: Jack Abbot x fem!reader

Summary: You get your period just before two-week long vacation and you worry you just ruined it (0.7k)

Warnings: talks about period, pet names, Jack being the sweetest boyfriend as always, banter

----------------------------------------------------

Jack finds you weeping softly on the bed as you fold your bikinis and put them in the suitcase. You look so unbelievably sad that Jack immediately drops everything in his hands, keeps his scrubs on and comes to sit next to you.

"Hey, hey, hey, angel. What's wrong?" Jack takes the clothes out of your hands and cups your hands in one of his. The other one sneaks up to your face, wiping away the salty tears.

"I got my period." You whisper so unhappily. 

Jack's eyes soften with the realisation. "Are you in pain?"

You shake your head. "I just ruined our vacation."

Oh. That's why you are so upset. "No, angel. It's okay. Nothing is ruined. As long as you aren't in pain, we're gonna enjoy our vacation."

He rubs soothing circles into your skin as your tears slow down. "But you were so excited for us to swim together. Said it'd be perfect for your leg."

You feel so bad. Because he finally got 2 weeks off from work so you could go relax somewhere far away. And you found the perfect place on an island. A private house with a pool and a sheer blue sea water just a few feet away. And food available at all times of the day with many activities to do as well. Basically a heaven on earth.

"We can still swim, sweetheart. We are there for two weeks. You can wait until your period ends. Or you can get in the pool with a tampon or a cup. Or you can just get in, you won't bleed in the water because of the pressure, remember?" He taps your chin lovingly, reminding you that it's all okay.

"Or we can go buy you some period swimsuit. I think I saw that somewhere." Gosh, your heart might just burst from how sweet your boyfriend is.

"Oh, yeah? You saw that somewhere?" You chuckle with a sniffle.

"Yes." He rolls his eyes at your teasing. "My point is, baby, that it's okay you got your period. We'll have great time anyways." You nod softly against his hand.

Jack wipes away the remaining tears and leans in to give you a peck on your forehead.

"Do we have time to go look at that underwear?" You ask tentatively, you know there's still plenty of time until your flight, but you also know that Jack wanted to take a nap after his shift.

"Yes, let's go now so we don't rush later." He says and it makes you feel even worse. Jack clocks your unhappy frown immediately.

"No, Jack. You need to sleep." You'd rather have no swimwear then make him go with you.

"I'll nap in the plane, I'll have plenty of time then, okay?"

"Or I can just go alone?" You suggest.

Jack gasps dramatically, hand on his chest. Oh, he's got the jokes now, huh? "No way, sweetheart. You need my expertise."

"You just want to ogle me in the bikinis."

"And?" He smirks at you, and you just chuckle at his antics. You love showing off clothes for him anyway.

"Okay, fine. But I'm paying."

"In that case, I think we don't even need to go anywhere. Two weeks on the couch seem great." There's no fucking way he's letting you pay for anything. He's a gentleman after all.

"You are insufferable." You mumble, shaking your head in disbelief with an amused smile on.

Oh.

That's what he's doing. You didn't even realise it, but your sad mood is gone, replaced by soft smiles reserved just for Jack.

"And yet, you love me." He grins some more at you, pushing another kiss onto your face. This time on your cheek, close to your plush lips.

"I do love you. You are too good to me."

"No, baby. It's just what you deserve and more. And I love you, too. Now c'mon, let's get dressed and go buy you the swimsuit and sunscreen." He gets up on his tired legs, one of them way more achy than the other. But he doesn't show it, you'd make him stay home.

"Wait, how did you know I needed sunscreen?" You raise your brows at him.

"Baby, I don't think there's a single think that I don't notice about you."

You kiss him on the mouth before he can say something even more lovely and you'll cry about it.

Good thing you don't know about the velvet box safely hidden in his suitcase, otherwise your period hormones might just make you sob.

But that reaction is reserved for later, When he finally gets down on his knee.

----------------------------------------------------

[amourflores]

　 jack　abbot　　&.　　hyper fem ! reader

⠀𓊈 ♰ 𓊉 ⠀݁⠀⠀⠀˖⠀⠀ 𓃭 ⠀゛⠀ 𝐉𝐀𝐂𝐊 𝐋𝐄𝐓𝐒 𝐎𝐔𝐓 𝐀 𝐒𝐌𝐀𝐋𝐋 𝐖𝐇𝐈𝐌𝐏𝐄𝐑, his rugged hands firmly closed around your hips. You’re on top of him, his back is pressed against the ivory velvet of his dispensable couch. when you pull back he watches you, hooded lids framing his hazel irises. His tongue dark over his lips, tasting the gloss you left on him; His brows knitted. He didn’t recognize that one . Was that a new gloss ?

“ What ?” You asked. Your limbs sneaked into his hairs. You liked how they curled on his head, a sea of salt and pepper beauty you definitely liked long enough to be played with. Or held. Especially when he went down on you. One of his slithered to your face and tipped your head down. It was your turn to frown, but not without a smile tugging at the corner of your lips. “ It’s new.”

“...What’s new ?”

“ Your gloss.” You look at through your falsies. He stares back and you lat out an amused laugh. 

“ Jack, how come you remember what gloss I don’t have ? Yes it’s new. It’s Riri’s gloss bomb. My friend gave me one, you know ? The one working at Sephora downtown.”

“ You like it ? ” He asks absent mindly, eyes contemplating your sparkling lips. The glitters scattered all over your petals made them look more appealing, more kissable. And if he didn’t want to kiss you again he’d be a mad man.

“ Yeah. It’s nice, I guess.” 

The following day when you pull out your keys to open your apartment door, you can’t help but notice the box sitting on your doorstop. You don’t recall ordering anything and your monthly deliveries were not even shipped yet. What on Earth ? You kick your heels off and slip into your more comfortable indoors one. Curious as ever you unpack the mysterious box and your eyes wide at the sight of a pink fenty beauty heart shaped box. 

It had to be Jack. Your generous and devoted boyfriend, Jack Abbot. Who else would that be ? 

“ I can’t believe him. ”

　

[noah-wyles]

everyone say thank you sepideh

[smartskirt]

What can be done? Say who you are, really say it in your life and in your work. Tell someone out there who is lost, someone not yet born, someone who won’t be born for 500 years. Your writing will be a record of your time, it can’t help but be. But more importantly if you’re honest about who you are you’ll help that person be less lonely in their world because that person will recognise him or herself in you and that will give them hope. It’s done so for me, and I have to keep rediscovering it, its profound importance in my life. Give that to the world, rather than selling something to the world, don’t allow yourself to be tricked into thinking that the way things are is the way the world must work and that in the end selling is what everyone must do. Try not to.

“This is from ee cummings: ‘to be nobody but yourself in a world which is doing its best night and day to make you everybody else means to fight the hardest battle which any human being can fight, and never stop fighting’. The world needs you, it doesn’t need you at a party having read a book about how to appear smart at parties – these books exist, and they’re tempting – but resist falling into that trap, the world needs you at the party starting real conversations, saying ‘I don’t know,’

[se7entyrell]

your relationship with jack throughout the years, told through your social media :)

youruser made a post

liked by abbot.jack, drj_official and 178 others

youruser i <3 my friends

view all 15 comments

samira_mohan not the soft launch as if we don't already know who it is

⤷ youruser but we've been so subtle :(

⤷ trinsantos as subtle as bulls in china shops

drj_official did you kill him in slide 5??

⤷ youruser it was robby's fault not mine

⤷ abbot.jack (It was her fault)

abbot.jack made a post

liked by m.robinavitch, youruser and 32 others

abbot.jack Life outside the hospital.

view all 7 comments

youruser omg you know how to use instagram??

⤷ abbot.jack I know how to delete posts

⤷ youruser no wait stop, i didn't mean it :(

⤷ youruser your technological failures endear me

youruser made a post

liked by samira_mohan, trinsantos and 257 others

youruser happy happy girl :)

view all 40 comments

trinsantos UHMMMM WHAT?

⤷ youruser my response exactly when he pulled out the ring

danaevans68 Congrats, you two!

⤷ youruser thank you dana <3 love you lots

samira_mohan you've literally brought the pitt to a halt i hope you know that ♥︎ by author

abbot.jack made a post

liked by youruser, danaevans68 and 57 others

abbot.jack She's marrying me for my money.

view all 11 comments

youruser not funny

⤷ youruser i'm also marrying you for your abs

m.robinavitch Congratulations, brother.

abbot.jack made a post

liked by parkerellis91, shenshen3 and 71 others

abbot.jack 3rd of June. Added an Abbot.

view all 12 comments

youruser i love you mr abbot <3

⤷ trinsantos ew pda

⤷ youruser you've seen far worse from us

⤷ trinsantos true. comment rescinded

youruser made a post

liked by mellyking, trinsantos and 301 others

youruser baby girl abbot joining us this april :) feeling v blessed (and mildly terrified)

view all 48 comments

samira_mohan can't wait to meet my goddaughter samira abbot

⤷ trinsantos um i think you mean *my* goddaughter

⤷ youruser who says she can't have all the godmothers?

abbot.jack Love you endlessly

⤷ youruser love you jackie <3

[p1stach-io]

Hi! Would you please do a piece about reader having an anxious but avoidant attachment style with Jack? Something like this: https://vm.tiktok.com/ZNRWrh8ek/

Up to you if he tries harder with her / puts up with it or gets tired of her since it wears him out and he breaks up with her.

If that’s okay and if you like the idea. Thank you!

love you less

summary: loving jack is the closest you’ve ever come to feeling safe. but safety is a terrifying concept for someone who expects the floor to collapse at any moment, and your defenses are running him ragged. (1.8k)

pairing: jack abbot x reader

content: heavy angst, emotional exhaustion, brief mention of vomiting, severe anxiety, fear of abandonment, verbal confrontation.

authors note: anon i hope this is kind of what you were hoping for!! this is for my avoidant girlies :)

the first time you realized you loved jack abbot, you had went straight home and threw up.

it wasn't a romantic epiphany in the slightest.

it was a violent, full-body rejection of the fact that another person now had some form of control over your nervous system.

you had barely made it through your front door before the cold sweat broke out, your chest tightening so hard you couldn't draw a clean breath.

the realization hadn't felt like warmth.

it felt like an invasion, a hostile takeover of your carefully guarded independence.

you had slumped over the bathroom toilet, your knees hitting the tile as your stomach painfully violently seized, purging the sudden, suffocating weight of needing someone that much.

it was the pure terror of the stakes finally being too high, your body physically trying to eject the vulnerability before it could kill you.

that visceral fear set the tone for everything that followed. for five years, your relationship had been a volatile loop of high-stakes rewinding and fast-forwarding.

breaking up when the intimacy got suffocating, and crashing back together when the loneliness became a physical ache.

and god, the crashing back together was always intoxicating.

when the distance became too much to bear, you would show up at his door or he would find you in the dark, and the reunion was always a quiet, desperate collision.

he would pull you against him with a fierce, possessive hunger that made your brain shut off.

in his bed, away from the world, you didn't have to think.

his hands were always warm. hands that knew exactly where to press to soothe the ache, smoothing over your skin until your breathing finally synced with his.

in those silent hours, buried beneath his sheets with his lips pressed to the crown of your head, you allowed yourself to be held.

it was a wordless truce where you could melt completely, safe in the knowledge that for the next few hours, neither of you had to explain a gthing.

now, you shared a lease, a kitchen, and a goofy, ninety-pound golden retriever named milo who currently sat between the two of you. his tail was giving a hesitant, confused thump against the hardwood floor.

you should have known better from the very beginning.

you had met jack at a loud, crowded benefit dinner where you had spent the first hour hiding near the catering staff just to avoid small talk.

and then jack had appeared, completely out of place in a stiff tuxedo, carrying two plates of tiny appetizers and smiling with a warmth that felt entirely too bright for the dark corners you usually lived in.

he had bumped your shoulder, offered you a crooked grin, and cracked a joke that melted your armor in seconds.

you were struck by him.

you were struck by the effortless way he moved through the world, by the genuine, intense focus he gave you the moment you started speaking.

later that same night, when he walked you to your car, that intense focus had shifted into something heavy and magnetic.

he hadn't tried to push his way into your apartment.

instead, he had just stepped close, his thumb brushing a stray strand of hair away from your cheek, his touch lingering against your jawline just a second too long.

the casual, effortless sensuality of it had sent a shiver straight down your spine.

when his lips finally met yours, it wasn't a rushed goodbye—it was a slow, deliberate promise that left you breathless and terrified of how much you already wanted him.

but even then, as your heart hammered against your ribs, a quiet, cold warning had echoed in the back of your mind.

this is doomed, it whispered.

he will see right through you, and then he will leave.

you had ignored it, drunk on his charm, but you had never truly forgotten it.

it was hard not to bring your job home with you when your entire worldview was built on the guaranteed decay of intimacy.

you spent ten hours a day watching love self-destruct in real-time. you weaponised people's worst flaws for financial gain and drafting the autopsies of dead marriages.

to you, relationships weren't sanctuaries.

relationships were volatile liabilities that were bound for failure.

so with that you treated your own romance like an impending disaster.

you were constantly scouring the situation for the exit strategy.

you refused to let your guard down because you knew exactly how ugly the fallout could get when things finally ended.

but jack wasn't a case file. he was a man who lived in the loud, messy chaos of the present, and your preemptive defenses were finally running him into the ground.

it was a tragic contrast to the quiet dome of safety you usually managed to build together when things were good.

you loved the domestic rhythm you had secretly grown addicted to.

jack standing behind you at the stove, wrapping his arms around your waist and burying his face in your neck. his breath warm against your skin while you pretended to complain about him suffocating you.

you loved the way he would absentmindedly rub your thighs with his hands while you read on the couch, a grounding, physical wire that kept you attached to the earth.

he was so naturally affectionate, so deeply giving and it was the only time your hyper-vigilant mind ever truly went quiet.

but thing is usually, you were the quiet one.

outside of work, you were shy by nature, soft-spoken to a fault, the kind of person who shrank into the background of a room.

but your instinct to protect yourself wasn't passive it was more of a sleeping predator.

when jack tried to peel back your quiet exterior to see the raw panic underneath, your shyness evaporated.

it became replaced by a sharp, icy precision. you didn't slam counters or throw things.

instead, your voice found a cold, biting volume that cut through the room like a razor, weaponizing words to scorch the earth so he wouldn't want to come back.

tonight, the trigger had been tiny.

he had asked, with genuine, exhausted vulnerability, why you still hadn't unpacked the last three boxes of your books into the living room bookshelf.

"why are you keeping your things packed?" he had asked.

to jack, it was just a question about furniture and to your hyper-vigilant brain, it was an interrogation.

it meant he was building a case against you. he was realizing you were a burden, laying the groundwork to kick you out.

"if my boxes bother you so much, jack, i can have them and the rest of my shit gone by morning," you said, your tone dropping into that fierce, hyper-articulate edge.

it was loud enough to fill the quiet kitchen, the sudden sharpness making milo instantly drop his head onto his paws.

jack didn't flinch at your word. he never did.

he didn't even yell back.

he just looked at you, his eyes hollowed out by a profound, bone-deep weariness that cut worse than any shout.

"we have been doing this for five years. and your first instinct is still to threaten to leave over a cardboard box." jack said, his voice a flat, exhausted whisper.

the silence that followed was suffocating.

you stood there, your chest heaving and your hands trembling with a toxic cocktail of adrenaline and shame.

your throat burned with the sharp, defensive arguments you had just used as weapons to protect yourself.

jack ran a hand over his face, his broad shoulders slumping as he sat down heavily at the kitchen table.

he didn't look angry, just completely defeated.

"i'm so tired," he breathed into his palms. "i love you so much, but i am completely out of gas. i can't keep fighting you just to get you to admit that you're scared."

for a heart wired to run from safety, this was the worst-case scenario.

the aggression was a shield and without it, you were entirely exposed.

your instinct screamed at you to run to the bedroom, lock the door, and start packing those boxes for real.

the urge to flee was a physical pull in your gut.

you took a step backward, your eyes darting toward the hallway.

"don't," jack said, not looking up. "if you walk away right now, don't come back. i mean it. i can't sign up for another round of this."

you froze.

the floor felt like it was genuinely disintegrating beneath your feet. your breath hitched, a small, choked sound escaping your throat.

you were trapped between the terror of staying and the agony of losing him for good.

the exit route was right there, wide open, and it terrified you to your core.

slowly, milo got up, his nails clicking on the floor, and nudged his wet nose against your trembling hand.

jack finally raised his head. seeing the sheer, paralyzed panic in your eyes, the hardness in his expression softened just a fraction.

he reached out across the table, his palm open and flat on the wood.

he wasn't reaching to grab you or force you into anything.

he was just offering a bridge.

"i'm not asking you to give up everything," jack murmured, his voice cracking with fatigue. "and i'm not going to throw you out. but you have to stop treating me like the enemy the second things get heavy. sit down. please."

every muscle in your body resisted. sitting down meant admitting you wanted to stay. it meant risking the rejection you had spent years trying to beat him to.

you crossed the kitchen, your legs feeling like lead, and sank into the chair opposite him.

you didn't take his hand but you didn't run.

jack let out a long, ragged breath, his fingers twitching toward yours. "we're keeping milo, we're keeping the apartment, and we're keeping the boxes," he said softly, his tired eyes locked onto yours, refusing to let you drift away. "but you have to start trusting that i'm not looking for a reason to leave you. can we just try that for tonight?"

you looked down at milo, then back at jack's worn, familiar face.

the safety felt terrifyingly huge, something you couldn't control, but for the first time in awhile, you let your hand slide across the table until your fingers touched his.

the contact was like a sudden thaw in the icy armor you had built around yourself.

jack didn't squeeze your hand immediately.

he just let his calloused fingers curl slightly under yours, his thumb tracing the back of your knuckles in a slow, rhythmic stroke that was agonizingly tender.

he was offering a truce, not just with words, but with the quiet promise of his skin against yours.

"okay," you whispered.

[girlmeetsworld2005]

Pretty when I cry

Husband!Jack abbot x wife!fem!reader

Authors note 💌- I’ve missed seeing this man on my screen so here you go!!

Word count: 1.5k

Warnings: rude patients PROTECT OUR NURSES!!, crying, fluff, kissing, pet names (sweetheart) and Age gap even thought it’s not directly discussed

Masterlist

The ER at three in the morning had a strange kind of stillness.

Not quiet, but calmer than it had been a few hours earlier when ambulances seemed to arrive every ten minutes and every room had been full.

You adjusted your scrub top as you walked out of Room 12, rubbing at the ache in your shoulders. Night shift was almost over.

You just had to survive one more patient. Unfortunately, that patient seemed determined to make your night miserable.

“You call this care?” the man snapped the second you stepped into the room with his medication. “I’ve been waiting forever.”

You kept your voice professional. “I understand you’re frustrated, sir. We’ve had several critical patients come in tonight, but I’m here now.”

“Don’t give me excuses.”

The words hit harder than they should have. Normally you could brush comments off. Working in the ER meant dealing with stressed, scared, angry people every day.

But tonight had already been exhausting.

You hadn’t sat down once and

You hadn’t eaten since midnight.

And every muscle in your body felt like it was running on fumes.

“I’m not making excuses,” you said gently. “I’m just explaining the delay.”

The patient scoffed.

“Maybe if you spent less time standing around and more time doing your job.”

The comment stung.

You felt your face warm.

Still, you stayed calm.

“Sir, I’m trying to help you.”

“Then do it correctly.”

You handed him the medication and completed the rest of the interaction as professionally as possible, but every rude remark seemed to chip away at you.

By the time you finally left the room, your chest felt tight. The door clicked shut behind you.

You stared at the floor for a moment.

Then took a slow breath.

“It’s not personal,” you whispered to yourself.

But it still hurt.

Across the nurses’ station, Jack looked up from a chart.

Your husband had been working the opposite side of the ER most of the night. Normally you checked in with each other constantly, stealing coffees and exchanging quick smiles whenever your paths crossed.

Tonight had been too busy.

He frowned slightly.

You immediately forced a smile.

Jack’s expression didn’t change. He knew you too well.

But before he could ask anything, a trauma alert came overhead.

Both of you were pulled in different directions again.

The next few hours passed in a blur.

Patients.

Charting.

Medication.

Vitals.

Questions.

More questions.

By six-thirty in the morning, the sun was beginning to lighten the horizon outside. Day shift started trickling in, and everyone looked exhausted.

You finished your final chart and practically collapsed into a chair.

Your feet hurt.

And despite your best efforts, the rude patient’s words kept replaying in your mind. Maybe because they had hit on a bad day.

Maybe because you were tired.

Maybe because you cared too much.

Whatever the reason, it lingered.

“You ready to go home?”

Jack appeared beside you.

His dark hair was slightly messy from running his hands through it all night. There were faint shadows beneath his eyes.

And somehow he still looked ridiculously handsome.

You smiled weakly.

“Absolutely.”

His gaze narrowed.

That weak smile hadn’t fooled him either.

But he didn’t push.

“Come on.”

Together, you headed toward the employee parking garage.

The cool morning air felt nice after hours inside the hospital. You climbed into the passenger seat of Jack’s truck while he settled behind the wheel.

For a moment neither of you spoke.

The engine hummed quietly.

Jack pulled out of the parking garage.

The city was just beginning to wake up.

Finally, he glanced over.

“What happened?”

You looked out the window.

“What do you mean?”

“You’ve been upset for hours.”

Your throat tightened.

“I’m fine.”

“No, you’re not.”

His voice was gentle.

Not accusatory.

Just concerned.

“You know you don’t have to pretend with me.”

That almost made it worse.

Because Jack was the one person you never wanted to hide things from.

You stared at your hands.

“It’s stupid.”

“If it’s bothering you, it’s not stupid.”

The sincerity in his voice made your eyes burn.

You blinked quickly.

“It was just a patient.”

Jack immediately frowned.

“A patient?”

You nodded.

“He was rude.”

The grip on the steering wheel tightened.

“How rude?”

You hesitated.

“Just…mean.”

Jack was quiet.

“Mean how?”

You laughed weakly. A shaky sound.

“He kept saying I wasn’t doing my job. That I was lazy. That I didn’t care.” The words sounded even worse out loud.

Jack’s jaw clenched.

“He said that to you?”

You shrugged.

“It’s not a big deal.”

“It is to me.”

Your eyes started burning again.

Jack noticed instantly.

His expression softened.

“Oh, sweetheart.”

That was it. The tears came before you could stop them.

Not dramatic sobs.

Just exhausted tears.

The kind that appear after a long night when you’ve been holding everything together for too long.

You quickly wiped at them.

“Sorry.”

“You don’t need to apologize.”

“I’m being ridiculous.”

“You’re not.”

Another tear slipped down your cheek. Jack immediately reached over, taking your hand. His thumb brushed across your knuckles.

“You spent twelve hours taking care of people.”

You swallowed hard.

“You always do.”

He squeezed your hand.

“You show up every night and give everything you’ve got.”

More tears appeared.

“Jack..”

“No.”

His voice was firm.

“You are one of the hardest working nurses I’ve ever met.”

Your chest tightened.

“You care about every patient.”

“You have to say that. You’re my husband.”

A small smile appeared on his face.

“I was saying it long before I became your husband.”

That made you laugh softly through your tears.

Jack continued.

“One angry patient doesn’t get to decide what kind of nurse you are.”

You looked down.

“I know.”

“Do you?”

The question hung in the air.

Because the truth was you weren’t sure. Not when someone’s words had found every insecurity you tried to ignore.

Jack must have seen the answer on your face.

His expression softened even more.

“You know what I saw tonight?”

You glanced at him.

“What?”

“I saw you skipping your break because you were helping a family.”

You looked away.

“Jack—”

“I saw you comforting a scared kid.”

He kept going.

“I saw you stay twenty extra minutes with an elderly patient because she was lonely.”

Your eyes filled again.

“I saw three different nurses ask you for help because they trust you.”

The tears spilled over.

Jack shook his head.

“So no. I’m not going to let one miserable guy convince you that you’re bad at your job.”

The lump in your throat became impossible to ignore.

You squeezed his hand.

The truck stopped at a red light.

Jack turned toward you fully.

“You hear me?”

You nodded.

He raised an eyebrow.

“Words.”

A tiny smile appeared despite everything.

“I hear you.”

“Good.”

The light turned green, and Jack started driving again.

Silence settled comfortably between you.

Just peaceful.

The kind of silence that only existed between people who knew each other completely.

After a minute, you spoke quietly.

“I hate that it got to me.”

“You’re human.”

“I should be used to it.”

“Maybe.”

You looked over.

Jack shrugged.

“Or maybe caring means things hurt sometimes.”

You considered that. Maybe he was right. Maybe the fact that the comments hurt didn’t make you weak. Maybe it just meant you cared.

And caring was never a bad thing.

Even in the ER.

The closer you got to home, the lighter you felt. Not because the night had magically disappeared. But because you weren’t carrying it alone anymore.

Jack had always had that effect on you. Somehow he made difficult things feel manageable.

You pulled into the driveway.

The truck rolled to a stop.

For a moment neither of you moved. You leaned your head back against the seat.

“Tired?”

Jack asked.

“Very.”

He smiled.

“Me too.”

You finally looked at him.

The concern was still there.

The protective anger over what happened was still there too.

But mostly there was love.

Steady and unwavering.

The kind that never left.

The kind that had carried both of you through years of difficult shifts and sleepless nights.

Jack reached over and gently tucked a loose strand of hair behind your ear.

His fingers lingered against your cheek.

“You okay?”

You thought about it.

Then nodded.

“Yeah.”

His smile grew.

“Good.”

You leaned toward him.

He met you halfway.

The kiss was soft.

Slow.

Just warmth and reassurance and home.

When you pulled back, Jack pressed another kiss to your forehead.

Then another to your temple.

And finally one more to the corner of your mouth.

A laugh escaped you.

“What was that?”

“Making sure you know you’re loved.”

Your heart melted.

“I think I got the message.”

“Hmm.”

He wrapped an arm around your shoulders and pulled you closer.

“I’m still going to be annoyed at that patient.”

You laughed.

“I know.”

“For at least a week.”

“A week?”

“Maybe longer.”

You shook your head.

“You’re ridiculous.”

“I love you too.”

The words came automatically.

Easy.

Natural.

“I love you too.”

Jack smiled.

The exhaustion was still there.

The difficult shift was still there.

But somehow neither felt quite as heavy anymore.

Because the night was over.

You were together.

And no matter what happened in the ER, you never had to face it alone.

[csoorin]

the way I absolutely loved the look of hatred Perlah gave this woman when she judged Emma for leaving

[silostosstuff]

Emma Nolan, coming in overprepared

Emma Nolan, not showing off her knowledge but rather be open to learn

Emma Nolan, trying to stay calm during unexpected happenings

Emma Nolan, holding Louie's hand during the debrief

Emma Nolan, taking care of the SA victim and encouraging her to finish the rape kit

Emma Nolan, finding the kid of the water slide victim in minutes

Emma Nolan, getting up after being in a headlock and continue to finish her shift

Emma Nolan, reassuring Digby that his family will still recognise him

Emma Nolan, coming back to tell people about Ogilive

Emma Nolan, still smiling and being sweet to everyone she meets

Emma Nolan, guys

[joenateuser]

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