Jack brings younger reader (in my head she’s a nurse that Jack works with and that’s how they met) around his army friends for a pool party/BBQ. They’re all giving him shit for being with someone younger (like mid-late 20s) but they’re all secretly jealous of him having a pretty young thing dote on him and care for him. They flirt with her and then when they see her in a bikini they all tease Jack saying things like “you sure you know how to handle that??” and he gets possessive and maybe a little spicy !!!! 😌
— ᴄᴀᴘᴀʙʟᴇ ʜᴀɴᴅs ☀︎ º⋆˙
→ warnings: jack abbot x younger!fem!reader, 1.5k wc, fluff, sexual language + but only small smut, nicknames [sweetheart, doll], hickeys and bite marks, protective + possessive!jack, accidentally wrote jack’s friends [who I was too lazy to name] as being a little rude/creepy when flirting. I couldn't think of a diff way to do it.
→ a/n: didnt proofread as always, guys send me more jack requests please!! or other pitt character requests!
“Sweetheart you have nothing to worry about, the guys are gonna love ya’ i know it” Jack coos at you as his large hands cup your face, his thumbs rubbing at your soft cheeks. You were nervous to meet Jack’s old army buddies, the guys he served alongside, it was easier ‘meeting’ his other friends as his girlfriend. They were just your co-workers, technically whom you’ve briefly interacted with before getting with Jack. Working alongside Jack as a night-shift nurse helped the two of you grow closer, it helped that Jack thought you were the prettiest thing to grace this earth as well.
“If you say so” you mumble out, as Jack is practically smushing your cheeks together now with a slight cocky smirk on his face. You were still just a little nervous, your co-workers didn't care much about yours and Jack's age gap, I mean Robby and Dennis flirt in front of the whole hospital for gods sake and Whittaker’s about half his age. You didn't know or have any clue to how his older friends would react to seeing how young you were.
Jack had been prepping the grill in the backyard for the little get-together BBQ he was throwing to introduce you to his buddies. He was a little excited, he knows they’ll rib him about how young you are but he just loves showing off his girl.
“Atta girl, now go change doll and cover up huh?” He plants his hands on your waist and spins you around towards the door back inside, patting you on the ass to get you moving. You had padded outside in nothing but your little tank top, no bra, and flowy sleep shorts. You had woken up without Jack in the bed and immediately went out to look for him, with a sad lost puppy look on your face.
You squeal lightly at the pat on the ass but head inside to change.
Slipping on a light weight sundress, deciding if you are gonna tan or swim later you’ll run inside to change. You do your hair in the way you like so it’s out of your face and put on light makeup. You’re tempted to go ask Jack to rub your sunscreen on for you but you can hear the door bell ringing meaning his army buddies have arrived. Quickly dosing yourself in sun protection you take a deep breath and hurry outside towards the sounds of men talking to meet everyone.
“Ahh there’s my girl, c’mere sweetheart” he beckons you over with a slight wave of his hand and a small smile on his face, you're quick to bounce over to his side.
Jack’s arm wraps his arm around your back, his hand landing on your hip to nestle you even closer to him.
You can watch as each of his army friends' eyes widen slightly, looking you up and down briefly before attempting to school their expression, one after the other introducing himself to you. You shift a little uncomfortably on your feet causing Jack to run soothing circles on your hip as you hold conversation with the three men in front of you. Everything from that moment on runs pretty smoothly, you don’t really know what you were so nervous for, his friends are very pleasant albeit a little forward with their borderline flirty comments and ribbing on Jack. You merely smile and giggle a little at some comments.
Jack however is a tad irritated with all the flirting, he doesn't care that they make stupid comments on how Jack is probably old enough to be your dad, or how does an old man like him keep up with you, he expected those. He didn’t so much anticipate the comments like how you're so pretty, why are with him, that if Jack isn’t treatin’ you right one of them can, they’d be able to keep up with you. He is slowly losing his patience.
Luckily the teasing dies down a little as the guys lounge by the pool and chat about more mundane things like work and upcoming holidays. That is until you decide it’s really sunny and while starting on the BBQ that you want to tan a little, you stand up from where you were sitting poolside and bounce over to Jack. He looks at you a little questioningly before you peck him on the nose, a big smile on your face. “Gonna head inside to change real quick baby, wanna tan a bit” you tell him, you know you don’t have to but you also know how protective Jack is, he sort of likes keeping tabs on you. He nods but before you can spin and pop inside, he is wrapping one arm around your waist and pulling you to him. The small surprised squeal that leaves your lips is muffled against his as he kisses you fervently. Your fingers tangle in his curls at the back of his head and pressing yourself closer, easily forgetting about your company and apparent audience.
“Let the girl breathe a little bit Jack, jeez” “Yeah man she isn’t going anywhere” “Don’t let the food burn now” yells all coming one after the other from the peanut gallery causing you to break away, an embarrassed smile crossing your face but a cocky smirk on Jack’s. Reluctantly pulling away from Jack you head inside to change into a bathing suit.
As you are stripping out of your clothes, you caught sight of your body in the large full length mirror in his bedroom. There were a few hickies that littered your chest as well your inner thighs, you even had a bite mark or two, one being dead square on your ass cheek courtesy of a Mr Jack Abbot who loved marking your body. You debate for a second whether to wear a one piece that would possibly cover them up as best as it could or you can wear the bikini you intended to wear today and flaunt them.
With a sneaky smile on your face as you decide on the ladder.
As you head back outside a barrage of wolf whistles greets you, it causes Jack’s irritation to build once again however it fades a bit when his eyes catch sight of you and the little reminders of last night that decorate your body on display. “Hey Jackie boy, are you sure you know how to handle all that?” being yelled across the way nearly sends Jack's eye twitching, he’s beginning to regret bringing his divorced army friends around you. He’s about to speak up and end their behavior when you beat him to it.
“You guys have watched Jackie boy” you nod at the man who is still stood frozen staring at you and deliberating on the risk of killing his friends currently, you however say the nickname with an affection lacing it that does nothing to help the ache growing under his shorts. “Do surgery in the field right? He has veryyy capable hands” you drag your words in a faux teasing voice. Your comment is met with some “clearly” yells in reference to the marks and more whistles and whoops before they die down into a laughter. You make your way over to Jack, finally his hands finding your waist immediately as if he is magnetized to you. Everything that isn’t the woman in front of him is muted for Jack as he stares into your eyes, a fire light behind them. “Was startin’ to think i should just bend ya’ over the patio table and fuck you in front of em’ maybe then they’d stop flirting with my girl” he whispers as he pulls you closer, his eyes tracing the purple and red splotches on your chest. Jack’s words spend a spark down your spine and an ache that sits in the pit of your stomach, you lightly squeeze your thighs together. His eagle eyes for sure don’t miss it, a bigger smirk growing on his face as his fingers play with the strings of your bikini bottoms.
Now Jack is definitely not a teenager anymore obviously so giving his girlfriend hickies would probably be considered childish but it seemed to be quite effective. “Think my handiwork speaks for itself, was that your plan doll?” he questions with a certainty in his voice as if he already knows the answer. Growing shy under his gaze you murmur out under your breath — "Maybeee, had to let them know you take very good care of me”
Ohh does Jack plan to take extra good special care of his girl that night.
A small twisted part of his brain wishes his friends got to hear just how good so they’d never question it again. Your moans and cries fill the bedroom, your back to Jack’s chest as the two of you lay on your sides. His cock repeatedly hitting that spot deep inside you that leaves you a twitching mewling mess arching away from him, “Too much baby- too full! fuck!” you moan and try to reach behind you and push at Jack but he is quick to grab your arm. pinning it down behind your back by pressing his chest even closer to your back, his hips smacking harder against your ass as he speeds up. One hand coming around your body to rub at your throbbing clit and the other sneaking under your body up to grab lightly at your neck. Not choking you hard but putting enough pressure to make your head go cloudy.
“Not done with you yet sweetheart”
— if jack followed through on his ‘threat’
→ a/n: i had an idea how i wanted this to go than i paused writing it, lost the idea and my flow so i dont know how i feel about this.
OR OR reader goes out with santos and mel after the fourth of july shift and gets drunk with them and calls jack for a ride home and he drops them off one by one but he stays with her and tucks her in and it’s sooooo fluff
yay thank u for the request i hope u enjoy!! | 1.6k of fluff, ‘her’ used in reference to reader once
The humidity outside somehow feels less stuffy after having been in the bar for a couple of hours.
You tip your head back when a gentle breeze blows through, soft as a whisper but it kisses your heated skin all the same.
“Shit,” Trinity mutters from behind you, looking down at her phone. Her face shines a little with sweat, baby hairs sticking to her forehead.
“What’s wrong?” Mel asks immediately. She’s let her hair down tonight, both literally and metaphorically, and you’re glad to have witnessed it.
Today’s shift was a lot. More so than usual, and when Santos had suggested a night out to Mel, and then to you when she caught you listening in, it was easy to accept.
Your throat aches a little from the numerous songs you shouted more than sang, but it’s a welcomed scratchiness. It reminds you that you’re here and alive.
You turn towards the pair that are now both focused on Trinity’s screen, their brows scrunched. One concerned, one more annoyed.
“What is it?” you ask.
“Literally no Uber wants to go to three different drop-off spots,” Trinity tells you. “And if they do, they're charging an insane amount.”
You let the next words slip out before you really think of it. Later, you’ll blame it on the alcohol, but you’re hardly more than tipsy by now. The last two drinks you had were water.
“I can call Jack.”
Trinity and Mel stare at you.
“Abbot,” you add.
“You can call Jack Abbot?” Trinity asks you, something almost teasing in her tone.
“Yeah,” you say, shifting on your feet. “Unless you wanna walk?”
“Oh, no. Please, call Abbot,” she tells you.
“I think it’s a good idea,” Mel says, smiling a soft, encouraging smile.
“Okay, I’ll just-” you point over your shoulder and step away, digging your phone from your purse. His contact is easy enough to find. You stare at it, your finger hovering over the screen.
You’ve had his number saved for a few weeks now. He’d given it to you after a rough shift, finding you by your locker and typing it into your phone himself with an urge to “call if you need anything.”
And you just… haven’t. You’ve pulled up his contact countless times. Looked at his name there as he’d typed it; Not Dr. Abbot. Just ‘Jack.’
Still, you couldn’t bring yourself to just hit the call button. He’s your attending, and sure he’s flirty with you, but he’s a little flirty with almost everyone. And ‘call if you need me’ is just a thing people say. At least, that’s what you’ve been telling yourself lately.
You suppose tonight you’re testing to see if he really meant it. If you’re not totally alone in wanting to get more of him somehow.
You press the button and hold your phone up to your ear, looking to see if Trinity and Mel are watching you. They are. Mel gives you a thumbs up.
And then you’re turning back around, because after only three rings, the line clicks, and a low “hello?” slides through the speaker.
“Hi!” you say, wincing at how awkwardly it comes out. “Um, it’s me. Are you busy?”
Jack ignores your question. “What’s going on?”
“Me and Mel and Santos are out and no Ubers are taking us. You know, Trinity’s actually a pretty good singer. Anyways, I was wondering if you could come get us? It’s totally fine if not, I mean, it’s warm, so we could walk-”
“How drunk are you?” Jack asks you, not judgemental or accusing, just curious.
“Just enough to let myself call you,” you say quietly. “Not enough to not know what I’m doing.”
“Okay,” he says. “Tell me where you are.” Like it’s that simple for him to drop whatever he’d been doing just because you asked him to. Like whatever he heard in your voice was convincing enough. Almost like he didn’t need any convincing at all.
He shows up only a few minutes later, pulling up to the curb right in front of you and leaning over to open up the passenger side door.
You wave at him. He wiggles his fingers back and nods at you, urging you to get in beside him.
Trinity and Mel climb into the backseat, chatting quietly between each other.
You watch as Jack pulls away from the curb, listening to Mel’s directions back to her place. Watch as he turns up the AC when he catches you fan yourself, an arm reaching over to aim the vent towards you.
“Thank you,” you say.
And when he turns his head to quickly wink at you, it’s hard to come up with anything else.
He drops Mel off, and soon enough it’s Trinity’s turn.
“You gonna be okay?” Santos asks you, more suggestive than anything, once Jack’s parked.
Only, Jack takes her seriously. He twists around in his seat to look at her and say “I’ve got her.”
You sink into the passenger seat, embarrassed and delighted.
She salutes him and climbs out of the car. And then it’s just you and Jack.
“Is it okay?” you start, a sudden nervous flutter in your stomach. “That I called? I mean, I hope you weren’t busy, or-”
“Sweetheart,” he stops you, that same low, patient but sure voice as on the phone. “I gave you my phone number. I want you to use it.”
“Oh, okay. Good. That’s good.”
Jack has the hand not holding the steering wheel resting on the centre console. He shifts his over just enough that his knuckles brush your arm once, twice, before pulling away again.
“Good,” he agrees with a little nod.
And before you can say something else, he’s parking outside your building. You only just realize then that you hadn’t been giving him any directions to get there.
You look at him, his black t-shirt tights across his shoulders, his hair curling around his ears. Then, there’s his fingers squeezing the steering wheel, his knee bouncing.
He’s nervous, too, you think. Or affected, at the very least.
It’s what makes you brave enough to say: “Do you want to come up?”
And Jack, turning his head to look into your shining, shy, hopeful eyes could never say no to you. Not even when he probably should.
He lets you lead the way to your door, a hand hovering behind your lower back in case you stumble. You fumble with your keys until he takes them from your hand and unlocks your door for you, holding it open with an outstretched arm that you have to duck under to walk inside.
It’s only when you bend down to take off your shoes that you feel the lingering effects of the alcohol, your vision a little fuzzy around the edges, your head swimming and focused all at once. Because every thought is about Jack.
Jack, standing in your living room like he was meant to be there, like the space just miles itself around his presence. Jack, leaning down to help you slip your shoes off when he catches you struggling, a warm hand on the back of your leg, letting you use his shoulder for support.
When he straightens up again, he’s much closer than before. You suck in a breath, eyes dancing across his face. His do the same, before settling on your mouth.
Your chin tips up the slightest bit, like you’re making room for him, inviting him, and Jack nearly accepts it. But you’ve been drinking, and this isn’t anything new for him. It’s not spur of the moment. He’ll want you the same tomorrow, more even.
So when he leans in, and you let your eyes slip closed, he doesn’t let himself kiss your mouth, but presses his lips softly to your cheek, then to the hinge of your jaw, before pulling away.
“You should get some rest,” he tells you.
You nod, a hand coming up to your cheek like you’re keeping his touch there a little longer. “Will you- do you wanna stay?”
“Sweetheart.”
“We don’t have to do anything, it’s just late, and-”
“I’ll stay,” Jack tells you.
You lead him to your bedroom, and if you thought his presence in your living room was something, this is entirely more destabilizing.
Where there’s an alternate reality where he’s in here for more. Where he’s leaning over you on the mattress, where his smell is etched into your sheets. And maybe it isn’t so far fetched, not with how he looks at you.
How he’s taking care of you tonight.
To that point, Jack goes into your dresser and picks out some pajamas for you once he finds the right drawer, setting them on the edge of the bed. He’d assumed you’d go into the bathroom to change.
Instead, he watches you reach for the hem of your top. His eyes widen slightly as you lift it, exposing your stomach. He turns around before it gets above your chest.
Jack’s meant to be a strong man, but the sight of your bare skin—skin that’s new to him—makes his heart stutter. Makes him weak.
“I have a spare toothbrush in the bathroom,” you tell him, prompting him to turn back around to find you now changed. “And I have some sweatpants if you want to change. They might not fit you, but-”
“I’m alright,” he says. Really, he’s thinking similarly to you. Thinking about a world where his toothbrush lives beside yours and he’s got a spare change of clothes here already.
And when you settle into bed after brushing your teeth, Jack’s prosthetic leaning against the nightstand, facing him with your cheek pressed into your pillow, that world doesn’t feel so far away.
“Thank you for coming,” you whisper, eyes fluttering sleepily.
☆ cw. 18+ jack abbot x reader. established relationship. oral (m!receiving). unprotected p in v. cowgirl.
an. happy to be pushing this agenda with you friend ☺️
he'd just been reading. that was the thing. sitting up against the headboard with his glasses on and his book in his lap, completely unbothered, and you'd looked at him and something in your brain had just. misfired. because jack abbot in his glasses with his grey-threaded hair and his reading lamp catching the lines of his light wrinkles is genuinely a problem you were not prepared for when you got into this.
you'd kissed him once, twice, until the book got set aside, and then you'd moved down his body and he'd watched you over the rims of his glasses with those dark eyes and swallowed hard.
you take your time with him. your back arched, leaning over him from between his knees, one hand wrapped around the base of him as your mouth works slow and you watch his face from below. his jaw is tight, head tipped back slightly, a flush rising from his chest up his neck and into his cheeks, a bead of sweat forming near his hairline where the grey comes in soft at his temples. his glasses have slipped slightly down his nose and he hasn't fixed them, too busy gripping the sheets, a low broken sound escaping him every time you take him deeper. he looks so good. so undone and flushed and trying very hard to hold himself together and failing, and you hollow your cheeks and watch him and feel him twitch against your tongue.
"come here," he says. low and a little strained. his hands find your shoulders and he hauls you up his body before you can protest, pulling you into his lap, and you go easily because you always go easily when he does that. "glasses," you say immediately, before anything else. he blinks. "keep them on." something crosses his face - almost embarrassed, almost pleased and he pushes them back up his nose and says nothing.
you sink down onto him slow and you both go quiet. he's thick and warm and your body takes him in with a softness that makes your breath catch, that stretch of him filling you so completely that for a second neither of you moves, just sits there in the full feeling of it. his hands grip your hips. his head tips back and then comes back down, like he needs to look at you, glasses still on and all, flushed and damp at his temples and so focused on your face.
you start to move and his grip tightens. you feel everything. every, slow slide of him through your slick walls, the wet silken pull of your walls each time you lift and sink back down, your body warm around him. he makes sounds he'd never make anywhere else, almost helpless, sweat beading at his hairline, glasses slightly fogged at the edges. "good girl," he murmurs, almost to himself, watching you move over him with those dark eyes. "yeah. just like that."
"jack-" it comes out broken, a whine caught halfway, your lips parted, and he looks at you for a second and then brings his thumb to your lips, pressing it past them without a word. you close around it immediately, suckling soft, tongue curling around the pad of it, and the combination of that and the steady roll of your hips does something to you. you feel yourself get wetter around him, that slick heat pooling deeper, your walls fluttering and gripping him tighter with every drag.
he feels it. you know he feels it because his whole body tenses and he exhales sharp through his nose, hips stuttering up to meet yours involuntarily. you moan around his thumb and he presses it a little further, watching your mouth with dark glassy eyes, and you suck harder and grind down and feel yourself absolutely drenching him, so wet it's audible now in the quiet of the room, slick and obscene. your hand flies up to wrap around his wrist, holding onto it, gripping hard and keeping his thumb exactly where it is as you take more of it past your lips, eyes wetting at the corners from the fullness of it. from the pleasure. his cock thick and throbbing inside you, his thumb heavy on your tongue, overstimulating you. tears slip down your cheeks and he catches one with his free hand, tilting your face up, and looks at you through those fogged glasses with an expression so open it almost undoes you faster than anything else has.
"you alright," his voice drops, thick with quiet certainty. "i've got you." a pause, his hips rolling up slow to meet yours. "go on. take what you need."
you do. you chase it, rolling your hips faster, and he watches you and says "yeah. yeah, fuck. come for me" in that low wrecked voice and that's all it takes. you come apart over him shaking and he works you through it, thumb still in your mouth, hips moving in steady motion underneath you, murmuring "good girl, there you go" into your hair until you go soft and heavy in his lap.
he holds you there after, both of you panting, his glasses fully fogged now and slightly askew. you reach up and straighten them and he looks at you and almost smiles.
"still think they're cute?" he says.
"more than ever," you say with a grin.
he huffs and pulls you closer but not before you spot the blush on his cheeks.
Court can you pleasee feed my Jack abbot obsession and give me a smutty fic?? Reader is fem/afab in her mid 20s and a night shift residentt. I don’t care what you do for plot i trust you, I just need smut 🫣
you have perfect timing nonnie, i'm fresh off shawn's quinn episodes 😏
i'm aging reader up to late twenties for my own personal comfort reasons (I know mid 20s isn't a child, but until your prefrontal cortex fully forms you're still a child to me)
I love when y'all give me full executive creative control. I drew some inspo from one of my fav jack moments from season one, and also a little fantasy of my own, but I don't think you'll mind 😌
warnings: swearing, mentions of alcohol, explicit sexual content (minors dni)
brilliant.
It wasn’t like you’d planned to start sleeping with your boss. It wasn’t your fault that you’d gotten stuck on the night shift with the most charming person in the whole goddamn hospital who was too ridiculously attractive for his own good, and whose stares seemed to linger just a teeny bit too long to be considered educational observing. And it wasn’t your fault that his praise often felt like flirting when delivered in that sexy bedroom voice that was, unfortunately for you, just his voice. If anything, it was Shen’s fault. He’d just had to have his birthday party at that karaoke bar, and no one did karaoke sober, so somewhere between Shen’s and Parker’s rendition of Pink Pony Club and after that fourth green tea shot, you’d ended up in Jack Abbot’s bed.
And while sleeping with his resident wasn’t the best idea, especially one that was almost half his age, Jack couldn’t bring himself to regret it. You were a grown woman in your late twenties, prefrontal cortex fully formed, more than capable of making your own decisions. And you’d chosen him. A middle aged, widowed, PTSD riddled amputee that was always one really bad night away from taking the shortcut to the lobby from the roof. So yeah, a pretty little thing like you wanting him astronomically inflated his ego.
But it wasn’t even just the incredible sex, which was incredible. You both genuinely liked each other. You got along really well, the banter between the two of you came effortlessly, and you just seemed to…click. Right from the beginning. The morning after that first time had definitely been awkward, but neither one of you had felt any remorse. As a matter of fact, all you’d felt waking up was Jack’s morning wood pressed against your ass. In the absence of regret, the two of you had come up with an agreement. You’d keep this thing between you a secret, and neither one of you would tell anyone anything. Not even Santos or Robby. Especially not Santos or Robby. They were worse at gossiping than Princess and Perlah.
Nothing changed while you two were on shift together. There was no weirdness, no special treatment, and no fooling around at the hospital. Granted, there was no time for that anyway. The Pitt was so busy you barely even had time for a bathroom break, let alone time to sneak off for ten minutes to fuck in a supply closet. This wasn’t Grey’s Anatomy. Everything stayed the same until after hours. Then, he wasn’t your attending, and you weren’t his resident. You were just a normal couple.
And you did normal couple things, like argue.
He must have known you’d still be annoyed by his little stunt earlier, because when you stormed in through the front door of his place, he was sitting at the dining table with two wine glasses and a bottle on the table, and an infuriating smirk on his lips.
“Are you out of your fucking mind?”
“Hi honey, how was your day? Anything exciting happen?”
Jack’s voice had a teasing lilt as he pulled the cork from the bottle and generously filled each glass. He was sitting far too calmly for your temperament. Dropping your bag onto the floor, you marched right over towards him, pointing your finger accusingly.
“You let me do a risky procedure on a patient that I’d never done before, because you wanted to avoid the fucking liability? I could have killed him-”
“But you didn’t. You were brilliant. C’mon, sit down, we’re celebrating.”
“Jack, this isn’t a game. This is my job. If something had happened-”
Jack let out a deep exhale through his nose and pushed his chair away from the table, the wooden legs scraping lightly against the floor as he turned to face you instead.
“Sweetheart, do you really think I would jeopardize your career by letting you do a procedure I couldn’t jump in and take over if something went wrong?”
For the past six hours you’d been simmering, your frustration steadily mounting and anxiety fueling the rant you’d been rehearing in your head. But it abruptly died on your tongue as creases of confusion settled in the middle of your forehead.
“But you…you said it was too risky for you to do yourself-”
“I was just joking, honey. I’d never actually let you do something that I couldn’t help you with.”
Earlier in the middle of your shift, there had been an unconscious GSW patient brought in that had air caught in his heart. Jack had guided you through the process of using a pigtail catheter to aspirate the air trapped in the heart, which was an extremely rare and high stakes procedure, and after you’d successfully done it, he’d made the joke that he’d had you perform it because it was “too risky” for him to do it himself. It was just his way of trying to bring levity to the dire situation.
But the whole experience had been intense, and he should’ve known better that when your anxiety crept in like that, you would've been too high strung to process the intended humor. In the moment, you’d taken his words literally, and he could see now that he’d missed the mark. He also hadn’t done his due diligence of checking in with you throughout the rest of the shift. The Pitt had gotten so chaotic, and he knew you were coming over after you both left anyway, so he’d rationalized that he’d check in with you when you were alone.
He’d known earlier that you were frazzled, and probably a little irritated, that he’d thrown you into such a stressful sink or swim situation without warning, but that’s how it went at a teaching hospital. He hadn’t expected you to actually be upset with him though, and given that the adrenaline had more than worn off by now, he suddenly realized that you’d been upset for the past few hours.
Standing up from the chair, he walked closer towards you, the earlier teasing smirk gone and replaced with a more gentle and understanding expression.
“Look, it was risky, yeah, but everything we do is risky. We’re humans trying to save other humans with the limited yet ever evolving knowledge we have on how to do that. The chance for human error is always present. You’re still learning, okay, we all are. Everyday. You’re gonna fuck up and make mistakes, it’s inevitable, but you didn’t today. You knocked it out of the fucking park, sweetheart. Seriously, you were perfect.”
All the tension that had been coiled tightly in your body seemed to slowly unravel, and you felt the weight of your own shoulders dropping.
“A million things could’ve gone wrong.”
“A million things can always go wrong. It’s the ER.”
“But you had no way of knowing I could pull that off-”
“Yes. I did.”
The firm conviction in his voice tugged at something in your chest. Jack was a great teacher. He was patient, as patient as he could be in such a chaotic environment, and somehow always remained calm. The Pitt was probably a daydream compared to a combat zone, you surmised. But the thing you appreciated the most was how encouraging he was. If you answered a question wrong, it was a learning opportunity. If you froze up during a procedure or made a mistake, it was a learning opportunity. He only stepped in when it was absolutely necessary, and even if you fucked up, there was never any admonishment or reprimanding. Just gentle guidance.
And he never failed to acknowledge or reward successes with recognition and praise. Still, that unwavering faith in your abilities took you by surprise, because you didn’t have that in yourself. Jack knew that. He’d known that from your first shift. It was why he gave you slightly more attention than the others. Call it favoritism, but even before you’d started this relationship, he’d had a desire to cultivate your confidence in your abilities. It’s why he showered you in so much praise. He knew you responded to it. In more ways than one.
Jack reached out to take your face in his hands, dipping his head slightly so he could look right into your eyes.
“Maybe I pushed you too far outside your comfort zone tonight, but look what you did. Look what you’re capable of. My job is to teach you, Y/N. Not just how to treat patients, but how to be a good doctor, and part of that is self confidence. And that’s your weakest aspect. You know what the hell you’re doing, but you question yourself far too much, and those seconds of hesitation are precious. They’re the fine line between making a good call and making a mistake, and there’s going to be times when there isn’t someone around to reassure you. You’ll have to make that call yourself and trust in your own knowledge. I’m trying to get you there, alright?”
You let Jack’s smooth cadence and the gentle gravel of his voice lull you into a calmer state, and you involuntarily melted into his touch, your hands coming up to grasp the front of his scrub top. Letting out a deep sigh, you closed your eyes for a moment and nodded. You understood what he was saying, and you knew he was right.
“Alright.”
“Alright.”
Jack echoed, leaning in to press a kiss to your forehead. He took your hand and silently led you over to the table, but instead of letting you sit next to him, he grabbed your hips and pulled you to sit down in his lap with your back against his chest. He reached for one of the wine glasses and handed it to you, encouraging you to unwind. While you let the merlot mellow you out, Jack slipped his hands under your scrub top to stroke your bare skin gently while his lips trailed down your neck.
“Forgive me?”
Your eyes fluttered shut, and you melted against him even more, his chest firmly flush against your back.
“Yeah.”
Even through the layers of clothing, you could still feel the warmth that naturally radiated from him. He paid close attention to your body, noting how relaxation had made you pliant, and how your breathing had become a little heavier as he continued to trail his lips along the underside of your jaw.
“Say it.”
His teeth intermittently grazed along your pulse point, his tongue tasting the way it thrummed under your sensitive skin, and it made you inhale sharply and shiver despite the heat building within you.
“I forgive you.”
One of his hands slipped down to give your thigh a gentle squeeze, and you instinctively spread them apart so that your knees were on either side of his. You could hear the grin in his husky voice.
“There’s my girl. Just relax for me.”
He didn’t tease. He knew what you needed after a night like tonight, and he still felt guilty about his role in it. He pulled the string on your scrub pants, untying the loose bow, and slipped his hand inside and beneath the waistband of your panties. He let out a quiet groan and pressed his forehead against your shoulder when he was rewarded with your drenched cunt.
“Jesus, sweetheart. I love how fucking wet you get for me.”
His index and fourth finger spread you open so his middle finger could glide through your slick, circling your clit with the pad of his finger that was lubricated in your own essence. A soft moan escaped your parted lips and you arched your back, making you lightly grind your ass back against his hardening cock. He let out a quiet grunt in your ear, his warm breath caressing the shell of it.
“That’s it…good girl, take what you need.”
The half drunk glass of wine was abandoned on the table. One of your hands reached behind you to grip onto the back of his neck while your other gripped onto his muscular forearm. A louder moan filled the quiet that had only been interrupted by your concurrent panting as he slipped two fingers inside you, pumping them slowly at first then gradually picking up speed while grinding the heel of his palm against your clit.
“C’mon honey, ride my hand. I know you’re gonna come, yeah? I can feel it. Go ahead, come for me, sweetheart.”
His other arm banded around your waist, holding you firmly against his chest while you rocked your hips against his hand that was still frantically working inside your panties. He groaned when your moans echoed in his ears, feeling your fingers tug at his hair and your nails dig into his skin. You’d been grinding your ass so deliciously against his lap that he’d nearly come himself.
Normally he’d give you a moment to recover after an orgasm, but he was so hard it hurt, and he wanted nothing more than to bury himself deep inside you. Pulling his hand out of your panties, he brought his soaked fingers to his mouth and slipped them inside, sucking them clean with a moan. He didn’t waste a second, gripping your hips and standing, pulling you up with him, turning you slightly to bend you over the dining table. He yanked your scrub pants and panties down to your knees in one swift pull, shoving his own pants and boxer briefs halfway down his thighs, just enough for his aching cock to spring free.
Announcement: here is the first request of my little drabble of the day!
Word Count: 347
Warning: None, jack being adorable, Shen being a shit
Prompts: We should have been in bed 3 hours ago, Are you awake or asleep?
~~~~~
You were on hour 16 of your 12 hour shift running between rooms, putting clean gloves on as soon as you took dirty ones off. Patients were screaming for attention while others were still in shock. You hadn't imagined a train derailment would have happened but as soon as the quiet hour hit and Shen a satisfied sigh. That's when the phone rang, that's when you tried to kill him but Jack pulled you away from him, and that's when you got behind the desk and started calling all hands on deck.
"How are you holding up?" Mateo asked sliding another energy drink your way.
"Thank you." You whispered cracking the seal and taking a sip of the fruity flavor. "I'm making it. I can't tell you the last time I have seen this time of day.
"What number is that?" Jack asked stopping beside you.
"Two? Three?" You shrugged taking another sip.
"This can give you a heart attack." He took it from you and handed it to Trinity as she walked by. "You're welcome."
"We should have been in bed 3 hours ago." You complain loudly walking away. "I'm going to find Shen again and inform him that the next time he jinxes us my husband isn't going to be able to stop me."
~~~
The crazy had finally started winding down and Jack and Robbie were in the middle of hand off while you were finishing charting and trying to stay awake.
"Are you away or asleep?" Whitaker asked coming up behind me.
"Yes." You sigh leaning on your hand in front of the screen. "The only positive is that we are off for the next two days so I plan on doing nothing but sleeping."
"How's my adorable little night gremlin?" Jack laughed coming up and helping you stand.
"I don't understand how you're so chipper. I'm exhausted and I had like 3 energy drinks."
"I lived through war." He kissed the side of your head as he guided you to the exit. "Your bag is already in the car. Let's get you home."
Reader works in the morgue and she's REALLY socially awkward, not shy and cutesy, I mean she's genuinely weird. She desperately wants to fit in but has zero social awareness. She cracks jokes that never land, smiles through awkward silences, and walks away wondering what she did wrong this time, people avoid her, and she talks to the bodies like full conversations) Everyone else thinks it's creepy or disrespectful, but to her it's the opposite. She believes people deserve to be treated like human beings until the very last moment. If she can make their final stop feel a little less lonely, then she's done her job.
Because she's "the weird morgue girl," nobody in The Pitt really notices her. Whenever she shows up, it means someone died, and her bubbly personality feels completely out of place. Most people barely know her name.
Of course, she has a hopeless crush on Jack: the older, intimidating attending who barely acknowledges she exists. When he does notice her, it's usually with annoyance. He sees her smiling, joking, and talking to the dead while everyone else is grieving patients, and he mistakes it for disrespect.
After a brutal shift for Jack, one of Reader's jokes pushes him over the edge, and he publicly lashes out at her. Humiliated, she disappears for a few days. As Jack cools down, he realizes he completely misjudged her, apologizes, and slowly gets to know the person behind the awkwardness and bad jokes. In the process, he falls hard.
However reader is convinced Jack only got closer because he feels guilty, at this point she is convinced nobody will ever like her.
Please an happy ending. 🤧
i’m halfway through writing it and i love this request!! it will be posted on the 12 or the 13 because i’m super busy rn. just know that i’m doing it even if i lowkey forgot to say i’d do it when you originally asked 🤗.
i’ll open my requests after the three next requests i have to write for but feel free to send some more, they’ll just get ignored until i can do them!! anyway love the idea 💗
so I've noticed that I've gotten at least two anon requests that are the exact same as request that other author's have written for....am I still good to write for those request since it's not technically copying a prompt because it was sent by a person.....
hi guys! please feel free to send over any Jack Abbot requests :) I want to write more fics and really dive into his character so please submit or drop ideas in the comments!!!
