just jack
fandom: the pitt
pairing: jack abbot x female reader
word count: 3k
rating: explicit
summary: you started dating dr abbot but you fell in love with just jack
tags/ warnings: insecurities, angst, fluff, grief, age gap, reader is a resident, jack wife mentioned, secret dating, new relationship, smut, date night, p in v sex
notes: i flit between fics letting robby devestate me and jack fix all my problems
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masterlists 🩺 read on ao3 🩺 request a fic 🩺 tag list
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You couldn’t help but smile when the message came through. Nothing outrageous, not out there. Just a simple offer of dinner plans wrapped in a couple ‘I miss yous’ and ‘can’t waits’. It was nice. Simple. It was what would get you through the shift and what made your stomach do that weird butterfly thing it does when you think of Jack, only just waking up and prioritising texting you to make a date on his night off.
It deserved a smile.
But smiles are dangerous, smiles in an emergency department attract attention and you’d no sooner slipped your phone in your pocket before Santos was on you, spying you from behind the desk as she said, ‘ooh who is that?’
‘No one,’ you lied, returning your eyes down to your chart.
‘Yeah right,’ she snorted, ‘how is mystery man?’
‘Ooh mystery man?’ Princess said from next to her.
‘He’s fine,’ you replied. You’d wish she’d drop it because as happy as you were currently you were not open to the business of waving your relationship around. Not while it was still so new and especially not since you work in the same place.
‘Yeah except she won’t tell us anything about him,’ Santos said, ‘other than he’s fine, he’s nice.’
‘He is nice,’ you frowned.
‘So why the secrecy?’ she huffed, ‘why not let us live vicariously through you? Is there something wrong with him?’
‘No,’ you replied.
‘There has to be!’ she protested.
‘Is he ugly?’ Princess chimed in, making you groan.
‘Boring? Alcoholic? Workaholic?’ Santos added.
No, no, no, maybe a little, you thought, but who around here wasn’t?
‘Oh I know, he’s married,’ she continued, like a dog with a bone as always. Only that got you, your voice tight as you protested, ‘he is not married.’
‘You sure? If not, why not show us a picture?’ Princess reasoned.
‘Because I don’t want to. It’s private,’ you said.
‘Oh come on you’re like two months in now’s the time to brag. When everything’s going alright and you don’t hate one another. At least tell me the sex is good,’ she laughed. And you didn’t mean to, you really didn’t, but she caught you off guard, your face falling before you could catch it to say something pithy or roll your eyes.
‘Oh my god!’ she said, leaning forward like she was being quiet though her outburst had caught attention of others, ‘you two haven’t had sex yet?!’
‘That’s none of your business,’ you snapped, trying to ignore the heat in your cheeks as Robby looked up and then pretended not to hear as he went back to his charting.
‘I’m just saying you’re with him every night-’
‘Not every night!’ you hissed, though she wasn’t entirely off the mark. You saw him on all your days off and your days in overlapped, briefly but enough for a stolen kiss in the staff changing rooms.
‘You go to his apartment at least twice a week,’ she reasoned smugly.
‘Actually we’ve never been to his apartment,’ you said quietly, deflating when her eyes went wide.
You hadn’t meant to say it, it was none of her business after all. But it had been something that you had been thinking about. Not just the sex, that had been niggling you, but you tried not to read too much into it because everything else was going good. You just thought he was taking it slow, building up to it. After all you two did work together and if it crashed and burned it would be more than awkward especially after. Once you’d gone there there was no way back. But she was right, as infuriating as that was, because in all the time you’d been together, he hadn’t let you set a foot in his apartment once. Everything was always/s at your place, always timed, and he never stayed over. Even when you thought it was going somewhere he always made his excuses and left.
‘I knew it! He’s married!’ she said, far too joyous given the pit it put in your stomach.
‘You think so?’ you asked despite yourself, that upset in your chest growing worse when Princess looked at you with pitiful eyes.
‘Here’s a crazy idea,’ Dana said, slapping a handful of charts down on the desktop in front on you and making you jump, ‘why don’t you ask him?’
‘What?’ you faltered.
‘Ask him then you’ll know and we might all be able to get some damn work done around here,’ she said, raising an eyebrow at you before he shoved a chart into Santos’ face and said, ‘you, needed in central two.’
‘But-’
‘Go before I ban all gossiping at the nurses station permanently,’ she warned. Santos rolled her eyes and wheeled back her chair to stand, grabbing the file as she strutted off. Dana just looked at you and you suddenly found yourself very busy too, any worries stuffed deep down inside yourself as you scuttled off to do some work.
Though before you could get past him Robby stopped you, his body blocking your path so that you had to look up at him, your brow furrowed in confusion.
‘Dana’s right,’ Robby said, earning a sigh as you realised you’d not only embarrassed yourself but got in trouble with the charge nurse and your attending, ‘ask him.’
‘What?’ you breathed, you’d been praying he hadn’t heard or at least was pretending not to but there was something behind his eyes. Something earnest and knowing that his suggestion was more from someone else that from you. You hesitated and then nodded scurrying away and filing that in your brain the later.
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The restaurant was nice but everywhere Jack took you was nice. Dressed up, a stunning view, and a wine list that had no prices on it. Not that he looked at prices before he ordered, just rolled out some comment about how this bottle paired better with your dish than anything else and handed the menu back.
Because that was Jack. Handsome, caring, strong, steady. You felt safe with him. Spoiled by him. You felt butterflies when he looked at you that were excitement not nerves because he was so sure in everything you never second guessed him. Or at least you hadn’t. Until now. Until stupid Santos and her stupid words.
‘So I know you’re off tomorrow but I said I’d pick up an extra with SWAT,’ he said, ‘but once I’m done I was thinking I could come over what do you think?’
‘Mm sounds good,’ you said, your finger tracing the stem of the glass.
‘And you’re back in on Sunday?’ he asked.
‘Yeah,’ you said.
‘Sweetheart are you okay?’ he said, his brow furrowed as he watched you snap out of your thoughts, like you’d only just realised he was there.
‘Yeah fine,’ you lied.
‘You sure? Is it work? Something happen?’ he asked.
‘No it’s not that-’ you started.
‘Not your stupid neighbour again is it?’ he huffed, because he always did. The way he always did when he saw him in the hall, standing up straight, eyes trained on him with his hand on the small of your back just because the pair of you had argued over a parcel one time. Taking care of you because he always did.
‘No not-’
‘If it’s-’
‘Why haven’t we had sex yet?’ you blurted, the words leaving your lips before you let them.
Jack went quiet, stunned for the first time ever until he made himself recover, clearing his throat and straightening his unused fork as he tried to answer.
‘Is everything alright over here for you?’ the waitress said, reappearing before he could and forcing him back into polite mode. You sat back, taking a swig of your wine as you cursed yourself for opening your mouth. Cursed Santos for putting stupid ideas in your head. Cursed Robby for making it seem like this was a good idea.
‘Fine thanks,’ he said, his eyes never leaving you.
‘Can I get you some dessert menus?’ she asked, already producing them from under her arm. Jack took one and glanced at it.
‘Two chocolate lava cakes please, to go if possible. And another bottle the same please,’ he said, his card offered up a second with a firm smile and warning eyes that flustered her into a, ‘oh, uh sure thing.’
When she was gone they turned to you, softer, waiting. You shifted dropping your gaze to the table cloth until he cleared his throat.
‘I’m sorry,’ you started, words coming without warning, ‘it’s just Santos started pressing me about us and then she said how it was weird we hadn’t had sex yet-’
‘You told Santos?’ he frowned.
‘No! Not about you specifically. She knows I’m seeing someone; she just wouldn’t let it go and then she was saying why wouldn’t I want to tell everyone. Then she just started talking about sex and just showed I guess and then she started saying there must be a reason like you were married or something,’ you said trying to ignore how his frown deepened, ‘and I said of course you’re not but then I worried you might be because I mean I’ve never even been to your place.’
‘Sweetheart,’ he sighed, reaching across the table to touch your hand, his thumb sliding across the back of it.
‘But if it’s not you then I started thinking that it might be me or something. That maybe this is like friendly or something not romantic-’
‘You think I don’t like you?’ he asked incredulously.
‘No I,’ you hesitated, your words stopping as you looked at him. Calm. Steady. Worried, ‘Robby said to ask you…’
‘He did?’ Jack sighed.
‘So there is something to know?’ you asked dejectedly.
‘Two chocolate lava cakes, your wine and your receipt,’ the waitress announced, placing the bag and the bottle down in front of you. Jack pulled back, offering her an easy smile and a thank you, waiting until she’d gone before he looked back at you, ‘how about we take these back to my place?’
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The ride back to Jack’s was quiet, but his hand never left your thigh. He only left you alone when you got inside, going to the kitchen to sort the cake and the wine. You floated into the living room, your eyes wandering the landscape. It was tidy, meticulous even which didn’t surprise you. In work Jack was chaos personified, everything messy and unregulated but in himself he was restrained, purposeful. He led with his heart. It still had the touches of a bachelor pad, the furniture sleek and formal, but there were personal touches too. Awards on the shelf, trinkets beside them, and pictures. Jack and his army buddies. A couple of him with friends, some you recognised like Robby, some you didn’t. Him and a woman. Pretty, adored.
You looked up as he came in with a glass of wine in each hand, one of which he offered you before he took a seat on his couch. He settled back, arm up on the couch as he looked at you but you hesitated, gesturing around as you murmured, ‘nice place.’
‘Thanks,’ he said, watching you closely.
‘It’s bigger than mine,’ you said, wincing at how it sounded. The insinuation.
‘I downsized,’ he said quietly, ‘after I lost my wife.’
‘You were married?’ you asked, surprise colouring your voice that you couldn’t get a hold of. Jack just smiled like he expected it, sitting up and beckoning you over until you slipped into the seat beside him. He was looking at a picture up on the wall, a picture of them together, her hand on his shoulder, wedding ring glinting from the flash.
‘Why didn’t you say?’ you asked quietly.
‘We were getting to know each other,’ he shrugged, ‘felt kind of like a mood killer.’
‘I’d argue it’s important,’ you breathed. Jack looked at you, his smile apologetic.
‘I didn’t want to put you off,’ he admitted. You smiled and let your hand find his thigh. His found yours, thumb trailing over your knuckles. It was quiet for a moment, thoughts rattling around your head as you tried to make them sound right. So they didn’t come out clunky and haphazard like at the restaurant.
‘When did she…’ you said, trailing off as he looked up at you.
‘Seven years in June,’ he said, ‘cancer.’
‘That sucks,’ you said, cursing yourself for falling at the first hurdle until Jack laughed, ‘yeah, it’s not what you want.’
‘She was pretty,’ you said. Jack smiled fondly.
‘Yeah, she was.’
‘Is that why you didn’t. I mean if you didn’t want me in her space, I get it,’ you said quietly.
‘She didn’t live here; I bought it after. Downsizing felt right, our house felt too big without her,’ he said.
‘Oh,’ you said, feeling the thoughts rush in again. The worries. You tried to scramble for something else, a reason that wasn’t you as you said, ‘but I get it. Sex after, I mean if she…I bet it’s not…’
‘It’s not that either,’ he said, gripping your hand tight, ‘she’d be happy, that I’ve found someone like you. That I’m happy with you.’
‘So why haven’t,’ you started, ‘I mean it’s not just the sex…this is the first time I’ve even been here.’
Jack sighed, washing a hand down his face, before he looked at you.
‘I’m not Dr Abbot here. I’m not your attending, not calm and assured. I’m not even the guy who buys you dinner or whispers dirty jokes in your ear in front of the waitress…I’m just Jack,’ he said. He pulled back then and you watched as he leant down, letting go of your hand as he pulled his pant leg up. His leg glinted in the low lamp light, the sound of the Velcro echoing through the silence before he pulled it off. You watched as he winced, his face scrunching up before it settled, the relief flooding him as he peeled the sock off and threw it over the top of the discarded leg.
He’d never done it in front of you before. You’d mentioned it, asked him if it was hurting when you’d spent time at your place, when he’d come over after a shift or you’d spend all day out on a date. But he’d always waved you off, told you it was nothing, that he was fine.
‘See what I mean,’ he said, a tinge of something like embarrassment on his face, ‘here I’m not that guy. I mean I sometimes use a wheelchair and I have hand rails in the shower.’
‘And what, you thought I couldn’t deal with that?’ you frowned, ‘Jack I’m a doctor-’
‘But I’m not your patient,’ he retorted, ‘I just don’t like the reminder of being an old disabled dude who has no idea how he landed you and not the guy you would want to have sex with.’
‘You think it’s Doctor Abbot I find sexy,’ you challenged, ‘that I’m chasing the lunatic who gets himself shot at or the guy who won’t let me split a damn check?’
Jack dropped his gaze, looking unreasonably bashful until you grabbed his face, forcing him to look at you as you said, ‘I like Jack. All of Jack.’
‘Yeah?’ he asked.
‘Yeah,’ you said, leaning in closer as your heads pressed together, ‘in fact I think I might be…’
‘Me too,’ he smiled.
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‘Oh god,’ you panted, grabbing hold of his shoulder. His hips were relentless, snapping against yours as he buried himself deeper and deeper with every thrust, the sound of the two of you lewd and slick as he slipped a hand between your thighs, moving his fingertips against your clit, ‘fuck don’t stop.’
‘Not going to,’ he panted, suckling behind your ear in a way that was sure to leave a mark. Your fingers knotted in his hair, pulling him back so you could see him. His eyes opened, a smile gracing his face as you looked at him.
‘God I love you,’ he whispered. You beamed, kissing him deeply. You had been going to say it back, the words dancing on your tongue until he hit something, tipping you over that edge and making you see stars as you cried, ‘oh Jesus fucking Christ.’
You tensed, legs locking around his waist and pulling him as close as you could as you tightened around him. He came with a stutter, pouring into you until he was spent and collapsing on top of you as you both came down. He rolled off you, flopping onto his back as you shifted to look at him.
‘Names Jack by the way,’ he said. You frowned, lost in the haze, and scared that you’d missed something, ‘if I recall you said, Jesus fucking Christ, but the names just Jack.’
‘Shut up,’ you said, rolling your eyes as you pushed him but he pulled you closer, lips brushing against yours before you pulled back, a smile on your face, ‘you know if we’re talking about things we said we should probably address you.’
‘Me?’ he asked.
‘You said you love me,’ you said.
‘Oh, that,’ Jack said, his hand ghosting up your jaw.
‘Yep,’ you said, kissing him again, ‘for the record, I love you too.’
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‘Good morning,’ you said as you reached the nurse’s station, eyes surveying the board and finding it already in chaos mode.
‘Good morning,’ came various replies, none of them really noticing you. Well not until Santos who appeared a second after, surveying your smile with a suspicion only she could muster.
‘You seem chipper,’ she said, eyes narrowed.
‘It’s a nice day,’ you shrugged, eyes fixed on the board and glinting at the 36yo head trauma that required a surgical consult. But Santos’ eyes didn’t go to the board, they went to your neck, the hickey that was already turning a faint purple colour and matched a couple more hidden by your scrubs.
‘Oh my god,’ she said, turning eyes your way like she tended to do, ‘mystery man finally made a move!’
‘I don’t know what you mean,’ you said, a smile tugging at your lips. You grabbed a chart and attempted to move but you got blocked by Robby. He kept his eyes on his chart, his voice dipping low as he muttered, ‘told you there’d be a reason.’
‘Did he tell you?’ you asked quietly. Robby shook his head and then looked up, a smile on his face, ‘no, but I can bet I’ll hear about this.’
‘Oh I’m sure you will,’ you chuckled, walking away, that deserved smile playing on your lips again.
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