this will b my intro post for now and it will probs be my pinned too!! i am not excellent at writing full blown stories but i like to daydream up a bunch of little drabbles!! i write for a variety of different fandoms and stuff but i like some so much that sometimes its all i will write!! i hope u guys will like what i put out ^^
Summary: A heatwave strikes Pittsburgh, and Jack Abbot comes home to a concerning display.
Warnings: heat exhaustion, soft jack abbot, so many pet names, mentions of taking medication, non-sexual nudity, gender neutral reader, no use of Y/N
Wordcount: 1,226 words
A/N: In honour of Irelandâs freak heatwave, enjoy this. I wish my reality was as sweet as this, this 25° weather is going to put me in an early grave.
Abbot gif is from @ho-ii
The sweat beaded down your cheeks at what you considered to be an alarming rate. You fanned your hand at your face, groaning when all that seemed to come back was hot, stale air. The heat was absolutely unbearable and unfortunately for you, it seemed to plan on staying all week.
You had never been able to tolerate the heat. As a baby, the Summer made you cranky and fussy. Toddler-you suffered frequent heat exhaustion and the odd heat-stroke. You endured brutal migraines due to the heat for your entire life. This heat-intolerance only worsened when you were put on long-term anxiety medication a few years ago.
The clock read 6:31AM. Jack was still working hard, probably on the verge of passing out in this heat, if he was anything like you. You had been trying to sleep all night and were starting to give up on getting even a few hours. Jack had these drowsy antihistamines that he left out for you, but even after taking those you were wide awake. You had opened the bedroom windows, turned the fan on (and off again, it really was so loud), had read a few chapters of your book, watched some TV. You didnât know what else to do to lull you to sleep. This heat was a fucking killer.
You swung your legs off the bed, movement quick from irritation. Too quick, apparently, as you immediately felt very dizzy and had to sit down. You took a moment, blinking long and hard to try and reorient yourself. After a minute, you got up again - slower, this time - and walked to the dresser. You pulled out one of Jackâs old t-shirts. One of the ones that are light, airy and so old that they are fraying in several spots. You pulled it on over yourself, not wanting to walk around only in your underwear.
You looked down at your phone as you walked to the kitchen, the forecast foretold today was capping out at 92° and that it was currently 86°. This week might kill you.
You filled a glass with ice and water before rummaging through the freezer for one of your cold caps. The thermal beads were nice and icy cold and you wasted no time strapping it to your head. You immediately exhale in relief. In your vague cold-seeking state-of-mind, the best place you could think of to enjoy your water was on the bathroom floor. The cool tiles called your name seductively and boy, did you answer.
You floated towards the room, unceremoniously laying down in a starfish position. You lifted your head slightly to take a sip of your glass of water that was placed beside you (if you felt more in your body at that moment, you would have freaked at its placement).
For the first time that night, you felt so peaceful. And so, so, so sleepy. You didnât even feel yourself drift off.
â-----------------
The door clicked open softly and Jack quietly trudged through. He took off his sweaty work shoes, leaving them outside the front door. He couldnât wait to get out of these disgusting scrubs and take a cold shower. He felt a pang of sympathy for his lover. If this heat was annoying him, it must be killing you.
He padded through the halls like a man on a mission. His prosthetic sock was so fucking itchy and his leg was aching, he couldnât wait to get it off. He walked thoughtlessly past the bathroom, before furrowing his brow and back-tracking. Was that a foot? He stood in the doorframe for a moment, staring down at you spread out on the floor.
He borderline dove down to you, practiced hands searching for a pulse immediately while calling out to you. You groaned and yawned, reaching up a hand to touch his. He laughed shakily.
âJesus Christ, baby. âThe hell are you doing?â His fingers remained on your pulse point despite yours trying to tug them away.
ââS so cool, Jackie. You should lie down too.â You murmured. Jack laughed again, reaching up to take the cold cap off of your eyes. His hands went to cheeks and frowned.
âOh honey, youâre on fire.â He said, face going serious.
âTrust me, I know.â You groaned, yawning again. Your eyes remained closed and he shook your head with his hands gently.
âOpen your beautiful eyes for me, sweetheart.â He cooed, voice honey-sweet and impossible to deny. It took a lot of effort, but you did as he requested.
âOhhh, there you are.â He pressed two short kisses to your cheeks, and one long one to your lips. You laughed and kissed him back.
âYouâre running a little too hot for my liking, sweet thing. We gotta fix that.â He rasped, giving you one last kiss before getting up. You closed your eyes again, your body felt so heavy. You heard water running.
âAre you hopping in the shower, honey?â You asked quietly, and he hummed in response.
âWe are hopping in the shower. Iâm gross and youâre overheating. Have you taken your temp yet?â You didnât answer, you didnât really need to. Jack was over you with a thermometer before you could even open your mouth. The second you did, he interrupted.
âUnder your tongue, you know the drill.â He instructed, moving off once it was snug. You were content to lie there and let him work around you. He shimmied your underwear off of you and you listened to him go into the bedroom to strip off. He came back in and checked your temp. He clicked his tongue, getting the t-shirt off you.
âNot great. I should have called you during the night to take a cold shower. I know how you get when itâs this hot.â He heaved a sigh, before picking you up in his arms.
âThis could suck. Sorry, my love.â You didnât respond, floating between sleep and consciousness. You felt yourself being lowered down when suddenly, your eyes shot open. It was cold. Actual freezing cold, cold. Your posture hardened for a moment, before softening once more.
âThis is so fucking good, babe.â You moaned in relief as he sat you down in the bathtub. He sat behind you, and you felt his laugh rumbling in his chest.
The bath stayed relatively quiet after that, his concerns put to rest by your sudden lucidity. He took the liberty of washing you both, scrubbing and lathering and rinsing until you both were shiny. You felt steady enough to stand on your own, no longer the fawn you felt like earlier. You towel dried Jackâs hair while he massaged a muscle relaxant cream onto his leg. You saw the prosthetic dumped by the bath, dripping wet. You narrowed your eyes and pinched his ear, ignoring his âhey!â in response. Your glass of water was moved to the sink counter and you fought back a stupid smile.
You lowered your head, kissing his cheek before leaning your head against his. You helped him stand, supporting half of his weight as you walked back to the bedroom. Both of you knew that despite the heat, you would have no trouble catching a power nap now.
It wasnât long at all before the two of you were snoring your heads off, content and cooled down.
established!Rabbot X Reader, Jack Abbot X Reader, Michael Robinavitch X Reader
Summary: Robby âhatesâ his new resident so much that he notices something very interesting about her
Warnings: Praise kink, BDSM in a non-sexual setting, non-sexual submission, non-sexual intimacy, very soft jack abbot, small bit of an asshole michael robby robinavitch,so many pet names, mentions of workplace bullying, mentions of suicide and medical procedures
Wordcount: 4,021 words
A/N: This is all disgustingly self-indulgent. I am writing this while very sleep deprived and very lonely and just in need of a little comfort. Please let me know if anyone is too OOC!! Also i stole samira's case from ER đđ
Abbot gif is from @ho-ii and i'm not sure where Robby's is. If anyone knows lmk!!!
Robby wanted it to be known that he really, really, really did not want to like you.Â
You, who was headstrong, stubborn and particular. You were a Presby transfer, one of their prized senior residents who just didnât get along with their team. It was hard and impacted your ability to work and after one too many cruel schoolyard jokes, you jumped ship. You took to the teaching hospitalâs ways and its momentum quite quickly. You didnât hesitate to correct an intern or med student. You never gave a second thought to questioning an attending or fighting a call someone made that you didnât agree with.Â
You, who was also patient and kind. You took extra time with struggling interns, calling them into labs to practise sutures or to go over procedures they couldnât seem to crack after your shift - time you knew you wouldnât be paid for. Any mistake a student made during procedures was gently amended, be it by putting your hand on theirs to guide them or just by giving additional verbal instructions.
This was all mostly fine to Robby. Really, he told himself he could handle it for someone Presby was borderline crying over losing.
It was all fine until you walked in on him absolutely whaling on Samira Mohan.
You stood at the door, expression changing immediately. You gawked at him when he told you he was busy, and to ask Dana if you needed something.
Mohanâs case was not too complicated, all things considered. A lady came in after being hit by a car. The car wasnât going all that quickly, so she wasnât too badly injured. You had overseen Whitaker doing some of her sutures and knew they had it handled. No internal bleeding, great GCS level, maybe a minor concussion at most.
Nobody had accounted for her general melancholy throughout the procedure. She was lamenting about how late sheâd be for work. There wasnât much anyone could say to that, she needed treatment and she was getting it in a very busy, very understaffed ER. Mohan ran it by you afterwards and you approved the discharge.
She was back in maybe an hour later. She had jumped from a three-storey height. It was hopeful when she first arrived, but things turned complicated and she never even made it to surgery. Time of death, 6:12PM.
Robbyâs brows were so furrowed they were pretty much touching. He was going on and on about missed signs and how the car accident had clearly been a suicide attempt. You stood up and argued back - how could she possibly have predicted someone would do that? Her sadness was chalked up to the adrenaline leaving her system, and why wouldnât that have been the answer? She was just in a car accident!
You sent Samira out, and he reminded you that you had absolutely no authority to do that. You told her to go, anyway. The two of you went back and forth and back and forth until he finally relented. This wasnât anybodyâs fault. Youâre doctors, not mind-readers.
After that âblatant disrespectâ he had suffered, he was doing everything he could to try and find fault with you. He needed something to write you up, to ride you about. He needed to even the score, and remind you he was top-dog around here.
He followed you from case-to-case, watching how you spoke to everyone and did everything. This was when he noticed something about you.
You were very, very quick to dole out praise.
Whitaker assisted you in a really clean intubation? âGood man, thatâs exactly what we want.â
Javadi catching a small symptom that could have turned fatal? âAmazing catch, weâd be lost without you.â
None of it was sarcastic or felt over-the-top. It was warm and fond and real. You loved teaching them, you loved seeing them gain their confidence.
You were shy, too. Not usually, but sometimes. When you got a taste of your own medicine with a âgood saveâ or a ânice jobâ, you got so bashful. All red and quiet, for once. He filed this information away, although he really didnât know why.
You werenât warm to him. You were strictly professional after you caught him with Mohan. You seemed to be good friends with her. He liked Samira, he really did. She was talented and could be brilliant if she applied herself like he wanted. Maybe he pushed too hard, she seemed to perform perfectly with you.
Abbot really liked you as well. You worked a double in your first week and you - unsurprisingly - got along just as swimmingly with the ânight crawlersâ as you did with the day shift. It was starting to piss him off at this stage.
Every time he and Abbot met up at home, you were the first topic of conversation. He ranted and raved about what you did and what you didnât do and why it annoyed him and why he didnât think you were gonna be a good fit in the long run.
His husband listened, of course, and empathised with him. Itâs hard to work with someone you donât seem to like at all. But days turned into weeks and weeks turned into months. This time, when Robby started, Abbot had to intercept.
âMike, baby. This is becoming an obsession." When Robby opened his mouth to argue back, Abbot couldnât help but take notice of the slight flush on his cheeks. The same flush he had had every time he brought her up recently.
At first, he had assumed that he was just getting worked up about you, but nowâŠ
âHoney, I think you might have a little crush.â Abbot said softly. Robby scoffed in response.
âWell, Iâm hardly gonna leave you at this stage.â He put his palms on his eyes and pressed hard. Abbot leaned over and gently lowered them before he hurt himself.
âSheâs fake as fuck, brother. You should hear how she talks to the others. Itâs like a fucking kindergarten.â He groans, squeezing Abbotâs hands.
âWhat, all this âcause she wonât call you a good boy?â He joked, but he smiled when Robby blushed harder.
âOhhhh, brother.â He laughed, scooping Robby up into his arms and squeezing him. âYou got a crush, itâs okay.â
âIâm married.â Robby whispered into his shoulder.
âYeah, I know, champ. I was there.â Robby raised his head to glare at him.
âI wouldnât want her to be anywhere else. I meanâŠâ Abbot looked down at Robby, wiggling his eyebrows emphatically. âI wished sheâd have preferred nights for a while.â
Now, Robbyâs head flew up.
âYouâve thought about her?â He asked.
âNot as much as you, hon. But, yeah, I have.â Abbot squeezed him gently again.
âW- why?â Robbyâs question was fair. Theyâd swung for a bit, yeah. But Abbot didnât go for women. Not after his late-wife. Robby fiddled with Abbotâs blackened out band, resting underneath their matching ones.
âWell, sheâs pretty. Seems like sheâs a good girl, too.â Abbot said, shrugging off his concern.
âDonât tell her that.â Robby huffed, rolling his eyes. âIt fucks with her flow.â
âDoes it now?â Abbot intoned. He found that very, very interesting.
It had been a few weeks since you last ran into Jack Abott. Robby was off and Shen had covered the day. He did a hand-off and ran for the hills. Abbot is secretly glad he doesnât prefer the days. Heâs a pretty vital part of his crew. Abbot met you just as you were surveying the board for the last time.
âAnything you need to warn me about?â He asked. You laughed, this guy was a sucker for gossip.
âNothing too interesting. Central 12âs a biter, though. Relative distance is recommended.â You supplied, lips thinning even with your smile.
âDoinâ anything for the night?â
âNothing, just sleeping.â You responded, sighing. This little tell was the closest to complaining heâd seen you. Abbot nodded. You looked like shit.
âEat something nice and go straight to bed.â He didnât quite order you to do it, but it definitely wasnât a suggestion either.
âSir, yes, sir.â You gave him a mock salute, standing up straight.
âGood girl.â He said, patting your shoulder and walking away. He looked back after a moment to look at you and sure enough, you were short-circuiting.
Like Robby had been doing for you, you very much actively tried to avoid him. Which didnât typically work. You couldnât seem to stop running into him.
Your frosty demeanor didnât waver with him, but his had softened greatly with you. He had taken to sticking around for your procedures again, nodding affirmatively when you did the right thing, or offering a gentle âah-ahâ when doing something he thought wrong.
He often went to you after a tough patient, asked if you needed anything or if you wanted to talk. You tried to be open to it, you really did. But he got under your skin. You were waiting for the other shoe to drop.
You had spoken to Samira about how Robby was when first started, kind and encouraging. How quickly he turned cruel and empathetic when he found a new âstar studentâ. You didnât want to be his star student, but you seemed to have had most of his attention recently.Â
You knew heâd turn on you again, and when he did the others would follow. It happened at Presby, and itâll happen here. You could feel it in your bones, you wouldnât let them get the leg up on you like that.
The day finished up and like always, you searched the board. You wanted any reason to stick around for a bit, to chat to someone, to be useful to someone else. Robby walked over and prattled on about his weekend plans. Him and Abbot were both off, something that almost never happened.
âCâmon, you got here early. Iâm not gonna let you do any overtime.â Hands on your shoulders, he gently steered you towards the exit. You hadnât brought in anything other than your worn hoodie and your phone, both of which were in your possession, so you had no excuse to not follow.
âYou got a ride?â He asked, eyeing your lack of keys.
âCarâs at the shop.â You admit sheepishly. âIâm walking today.â
Robby frowned.
âNo, youâre not. Iâll give you a ride.â He shook his head, hand going to your shoulder to hold you in place before crossing the road. He used the same hand to lead you across the road. You couldnât help but relax a little at the action. You liked just following along with whatever people wanted at the end of the day. I mean, your whole job revolved around making choices to save lives, who would want to make a decision about themselves after that?
âYou really donât have to, Dr. Robby.â You murmured.
âHeâs not, I am.â A gravelly voice caused you to look up. Jack Abott stood by their car, dangling the keys until they made a jingleing noise. You clearly werenât the only one surprised. Robbyâs eyebrows shot up. He went over and kissed Abbot on the cheek.
âWe actually had a question for you.â Abbot spoke, hand rubbing Robbyâs back.
âIf you donât have plans tonight, would you have dinner with us?â Your brows shot up this time.
âBut- youâŠâ Your eyes shifted between Abbot and Robby several times.â
âWant you to have dinner with us? Yes.â Robby finished off what he assumed your sentence would have been.
âI- Iâd hate to intrude.â Was all you could think to say, because one part of your brain immediately wanted to say âyes!â.
âGood thing you wouldnât be, then.â Abbot smiled at you, winking. âLook, if you donât want to, you donât have to. We want you to, but your word is final. We wonât be offended.â
âWe can pretend this never happened. We drive you home and we donât talk about it again.â Robby confirmed softly.
âNo, I- I donât have any plans. Dinner would be niceâŠâ You admitted, stomach starting to grumble. Robbyâs did too, causing Abbot to laugh.Â
He ushered both of you in the car and drove to what you could only assume was their house. A real nice, big townhouse a little ways outside the city. It was quiet, but thoughtfully decorated. The lawn was stunning and the colour pleasing to the eye. You were invited inside to see the gorgeous interior. The kitchen was a mix of modern furniture with retro colour schemes - reds, blacks and blue used interchangeably. The house seemed to be lit according to mood, with the kitchen lights on full whack and the dining room a little dimmer.
âI actually have it all ready, just sit down anywhere.â Abbot instructed, not caring that he admitted he assumed you were going to say yes.
âCan I help?â You asked.
âYes, by sitting down.â Robby replied, pointing to one chair in particular. Right to the head of the table.
Abbotâs voice rang out again - âDo you drink wine?â - Upon hearing your affirmative, his head popped through the doorless frame.
âWhite or red?â
âRed, please. Will I help set out the drinks?â You asked for the second time.
âYou can stay right where you are, please.â You are told for the second time.
After what feels like an eternity (it was 5 minutes), a small bowl is placed in front of you and your wine is topped up just slightly. Robby took the seat in front of you and Abbot beside you, at the head.
All three of you ate in relative silence, before you broke it to compliment the soup. It was potato and leek, so creamy and starchy that you didnât even feel the crunchy onion-y texture.
âThank you, youâre very sweet.â Abbot smiled at you. You tried to control your blush, ducking your head modestly.
âIsnât she just?â Robby agreed, as you hurriedly spooned another mouthful of soup into your gob.
The first course passed quickly after that. Robby collected the bowls, pushing you down in the chair when you got up to help him. He disappeared into the kitchen.
âYou donât know when to give up, do ya?â Abbot asked, laughing slightly.
âIâm not good with being idle.â You admitted, laughing along. He stared at you for a bit.
âYou can relax, you look so tense. Did you have a bad day?â He asked kindly.
âNo, no. Everything went very well. Iâm just⊠Iâm just like this.â You laughed again, albeit a bit more nervously this time.
âUh-huh, well, I want everyone who walks in here to feel better when they walk out. Is there anything I can do for you?â His gaze followed yours, ducking his head to look you in the eyes. Itâs hard to ignore the husky undertone in his voice.
âLook up at me, please. Itâs not good to slouch.â He gently corrected and you rushed to remedy yourself.
âSorry, Dr. Abbot.â
âYouâre okay, I just donât want your back to get sore. And, call me Jack when weâre not working.â
âYes, sorry Jack.â
âGood girl, youâre okay.â He doesnât miss the way the tension leaves your shoulders. You stare at him for a moment, your eyes almost glazing over before Robby returns.
âRoast should be ready in 20.â He murmured, squeezing Abbotâs shoulder as he passed him. Him and Abbot exchanged a few looks before Robby began again.
âYouâre a very smart girl.â He stated simply, you couldnât help but whip your head over to him.
âSettle.â Abbot huffed a small laugh.
âIâm sure you can see we didnât call you just to eat with you.â You didnât know what to say to that. You simply hummed and nodded for him to continue.
âJack and I have a particular⊠void that needs filling. And you seem to be the perfect candidate.â Robby continued, watching your face very closely. He saw your brows furrow.
âWe arenât asking you to have sex with us.â Abbot spoke very quietly, âThat isnât what we want.â
âThen what is this âvoidâ?â You asked cautiously, not sure if you felt relieved or disappointed you attendings didnât want to have sex with you.
âWeâre old men, who make a lot of money and donât have family to look after. We want someone to take care of.â Robby informed you.
âYou want me to be your sugar baby?â You asked, a bit incredulously.
Simultaneously, you heard a ânoâ and a âsort ofâŠâ. Abbot glared at Robby.
âAre you familiar with BDSM dynamics, honey?â You tried not to react when Abbot called you honey but judging by the way he looked at you, you failed.
âI-yes, I am.â You mutter, looking down again.
âAh-ah, look up.â Abbot couldnât help but remind you. Robby gawked at him, but you looked up automatically. Abbot tipped your chin encouragingly.
âHave you had any experience with it?â He asked and Robby turned his attention back to you.
âUh, a bit, yeah.â You admitted in a whisper. God, this was so fucking embarrasing. Robby reached across the table for your hand, which had clenched around itself. He unwinded your fingers and placed his hand on top of yours, rubbing circles onto it.
âCan you tell us what you were doing?â He asked softly. Suddenly, it was hard for you to remember why you didnât like Robby.
âI was- I was a submissive. Sometimes for sex, but usually domestically.â You murmured, feeling a bit lost in his gaze.
âThank you for answering. You had a regular dom then?â He asked. You blinked up at him slowly.
âNo, I was a part of this, like, group. You texted in and someone usually responded. I knew a few of them well but not all of them. I just⊠I just needed to be out of my head.â You shared, feeling a bit like a common whore. You went to look down again, but Robby clicked his tongue.
âI believe Jack asked you not to do that.â
âSorry, Dr. Robby.â
âMichael, please.â
âSorry Michael.â You murmur automatically.
âNo apologies necessary, sweet girl. That must have been hard to tell me.â You nodded without thinking. Abbot piped up again.
âThatâs exactly what we want. A submissive. You donât have to fuck us. We want to feed you, bathe you, dress you up. We want you to listen, and do as youâre told, and to feel free.â Abbot took your other hand, thumb rubbing up and down your wrist.
âYou donât have to even try it. If youâre not interested, we eat dinner, drop you home and pretend none of this happened.â Robby promised, squeezing your hand.
âNo pressure. If you want to think about it, then same thing.â Abbot assured.
âI⊠I do want to try. I havenât done it in a bit, I might be a bit shit at it.â You admitted, feeling a bit exposed.
âYou have been doing absolutely wonderfully.â Robby reassured you quickly.
âYou wouldnât have to worry about a thing, weâd do that for you.â Abbot added.
âOkay, Iâll try it with you. But if I donât fall deep, donât be upset.â You warned
âStop getting in your own head about this, weâll take it as we go, babe.â Robby brought your hand to his lips, kissing each finger between words. You revelled in the attention for a moment, and you knew they knew. You felt yourself settle down, the weight rolling off your shoulders.
You didnât notice Abbot getting up beside you, so you jumped when a plate was placed in front of you. Abbot petted your hair soothingly.
âHush, itâs only me. Here, MikeâŠâ As he passed Robby his own. He placed his own down and quickly plucked the cutlery from your hands.
âWould you like it if I fed you, hon?â Abbot asked quietly, waiting for your response. You nodded slowly.
âBrave girl.â He noted you must have been wrecked to give in so easily.
The plan had initially been to just ask you tonight. Talk to you a bit about it, get to know you. Youâd talk about expectations and fears and all of you would set a schedule. Which would still need to be made, but tonight was not the night. Abbot really hadnât meant to start domming you before youâd even discussed it, but you were plain irresistible. It irritated him how you couldnât see it. He could see you needed it tonight, Robby could too. You were barely hanging on.
âDo you like to try everything separately first or do you usually go straight in with your meal?â Robby asked before Abbot began.
âSeparately, if itâs not too much trouble.â You disclosed, reaching to take the fork from Abbotâs hand preemptively. Abbot gently lowered it.
âHands on your thighs or on the table, please. Thank you for telling me, Iâd like to feed you.â They had a feeling you would need more than a simple instruction. You seemed to be a lot more insecure in yourself than they originally thought.
Clear instructions, easily-won praise often, and many reminders of the initial order or rules. They could remedy that, if you would let. They could only hope you would.
Abbot handfed you every bit, stopping every few to take some himself. When he was eating, Robby took the opportunity to feed you some of his own.
âYou are taking this so very well.â He murmured, rubbing your cheek after a bit.
You had cleared the plate before you knew it, and Abbot smiled wide.
âVery, very good. Do you want anymore?â You shook your head lightly, muttering a small âno thank youâ.
âThank you for being so polite, sweet girl. You are doing so well. Itâs hard to let someone take care of you, isnât it?â Abbot asked empathetically, taking both of your hands in his own and kissing them. He turned to Robby, who was only watching.
âMike, could youâŠâ He asked Robby something, but you didnât quite catch it. You watched him stand up and walk around to you.
âCâmere⊠Thatâs a good girl.â Robby spoke, bringing you into the living room. He plopped himself down on the middle of the couch and when he went to pull you into his lap, he was surprised to find you on the floor. You knelt between his legs, not needing to be told to get into position and falling into total habit for the first time tonight.
âArenât you a high achiever?â He crooned into your ear, petting your hair. He grabbed a pillow from the end of the couch and quietly ordered you to move for a moment. He could see the panic in your eyes and dropped the pillow. He brought his hands to your hips and looked up at you.
âI just wanted to move this underneath you so youâre not in any pain. Youâre not in trouble, weâre all okay.â He assured quickly, thumbing circles onto your hip bones. You nodded and lowered yourself onto the pillow when he had it placed.
âIs that much better, honey?â He cooed at you from above.
âMhm-hmm. Thank you, Michael.â You instinctively leaned against his left leg. He continued cooing at you until Abbot came back in. They said something to each other, but you werenât listening. You didnât feel like you needed to. You werenât told to pay attention to anything.
âFeeling okay, baby?â Abbot looked down at you, gently tugging your chin upwards to meet his eyes. He was sitting on Robbyâs left side. You nodded slowly, eyes glazed over. You smiled softly at him and he released his hold, letting your head fall back to where it was.
âBest girl.â He said, scratching your scalp, while Robbyâs leg supported your body weight.
In the morning, you would hope and pray tonight was not a fluke and that you impressed them. But tonight, you werenât worried about that. You werenât worried about a thing at all.
I've Been Looking for Someone to put up With my Bullshit
Jack Abbot X Wife!Reader
Summary: Jack Abbot has a bad day at work and canât cool his irritation before he gets home. You try to make him feel better, but pay the price.
Warnings: Tiny arguments, small bit of asshole Jack Abbot, nudity, pet names, suggestive content, not beta read whoops, no use of Y/N
Wordcount: 1,439 words
You knew something was wrong before he even came home. It was 9:39PM. It wasnât often he had to cover a day shift, but him and Robby had swapped around this week. You had texted an hour ago to ask if everything was alright and he hadnât even seen it. You thumb the buttons on the side of your phone absently. Jack Abbot doesnât always text back straight away. It wouldnât be the first time you had to wait a bit.
The door opened with a strong push, clattering against the wall. You jumped, flinching at the sudden noise. Jackâs heavy set footsteps were unmistakable. You squeezed your hands together upon hearing him throwing his coat and bag by the shoe rack.
âJack?â You called out, softly. He rounded the hallway corner, shoulders dropping slightly upon seeing you. He crossed over, hands grabbing desperately at your hips and pulling you in for a long kiss. He didnât break until you were sure your lips were blue. You gasped lightly.
âHow wa-â You were cut off when he pulled you back in for round two. His hands gripped tight enough to hurt and you finally put your hands on his chest, pushing him away with a small âowâ.
âSorry, baby.â He rumbled, head dipping down to rest between your shoulder blades. His hands rested on your hips, fingers just barely hooking on to your jeans.Â
You began rocking rocking both of you back and forth, soaking up the warmth of his body. He needed to get out of scratchy scrubs, you hated the material of the tops he always chose. Leaning down to rest your nose on his hair, you took a long sniff. You could still get a little of his aftershave and deodorant, but it was mostly sweat.
âYou should shower.â You whispered, kissing the crown of his head. He groaned against you, causing you to laugh lightly.
âWas work okay?â You asked softly. You knew it hadnât gone incredibly well by the time he came in and the way in which he did, but you still wanted details.
âNo comment.â He murmured.
âThat bad?â You replied, kissing him again. He stilled slightly under you.
âYeah.â He spoke shortly. You frowned at his tone, your hands rubbed up and down his back in a soothing rhythm.
âAnything you wanna tell me?â You asked quietly. He huffed in irritation, before pulling himself away from you quickly. Your frown deepened.
âI donât want to talk about it, honey! Jesus Christ, read the fucking roomâŠâ Your mouth hung open and you stared at him for a moment. He opened his mouth in a mocking gesture and gave an aggressive shrug before shuffling away.
You stayed exactly as you were for a few moments, only moving once you heard the shower going. You blinked back tears that threatened to spill over. You took his plated dinner out of the fridge, sticking it in the oven on a low heat to have it warmed by the time he was out. You set his place at the kitchen table and made your way wordlessly into your bedroom.Â
After about an hour, he yawned into his hands. It had been a long fucking day, but he didnât have to take it out on you. He pawed at his empty plate before taking it over to the sink to wash it. He quietly crept up the hall and into the bedroom. You were lying on your side of the bed, facing the wall. You were in your pajamas and your eyes were closed. He watched your chest rise and fall for a few moments.
You read your book, listening to the sounds of him turning the shower off. You fingered the spine of your book nervously, hoping he wouldnât come in. Tears burned your eyes again, thinking of your short exchange. You wiped your eyes roughly. The bathroom door opened and he pattered into the kitchen. You knew he wouldnât bother changing into anything now. He was probably only wearing a towel, right now. If you werenât a little hurt, the thought of that would have turned you on.
You heard him getting his plate out and placing it down. You were dimly aware of the fact you have been âreadingâ the same page for about 5 minutes now. He called your name softly, and you did not answer.
He called once more, before giving up.
You were wide awake, despite your appearance. You listened to him drop the towel into the laundry basket and felt his weight on the bed. You cracked an eye open when you felt him lie next to you. His crutches were on your side, by the dresser. Exactly where they had been since last night. Guilt rose in your stomach as you thought of him dealing with unnecessary pain because of you. His arm looped around your waist and you closed your eyes once more.
âMy love?â He kissed the shell of your ear gently. âAre you awake?â
You didnât answer, keeping up your charade. He waited for a few moments before sighing and laying himself down completely. You both drifted off not too long after that.
Your eyes shot open suddenly. They snapped to the clock - 3:47 AM. Your body felt like it was vibrating. Ugh. Fantastic. You knew you werenât getting back to sleep anytime. You glanced back, Jack had twisted himself away from you. Literally twisted by the look of it, his arm that was slung around you hung limply off the side of the bed. You tried not to laugh at him.
Tip-toeing out of bed, you shut the door behind you. You went to the kitchen, rummaging through the cabinets for that disgusting mint tea Jack had bought you when you first told him you have trouble sleeping. He always restocked it for - he knew damn well you would buy that shit for yourself - and encouraged you to drink it. Brewing it up, you brought it out to the patio. You left the door open to let the cool night air into the house. You sat on one of the pretty deck chairs you had picked out, grimacing when you took a sip of your tea.
âI donât like it when we go to bed angry.â You jumped at the sudden intrusion, whipping your head back to see your vaguely sleepy and very naked husband.
âThat wasnât kind.â Was all you said in return. âI canât help you if you donât talk to me.â
âI know. I know. Iâm sorry sweetheart, I donât know why I didnât apologise right away.â He leaned against the door frame, crutches supporting him. He walked over to sit beside you and you were suddenly very glad that Jack had no neighbours. This fucker had no probelm with nudity.
âYouâre frozen.â You replied, putting a hand on his cold thigh. âAnd exhausted, go back to bed.â
âI donât sleep well without you. I worry about you, baby.â You softened at that. Jack always worried about your lack of sleep, even back when you had just met. He had made you do sleep studies and see a specialist to find out if there was a solution. There wasnât, of course. He had been furious, demanding to speak to their department head. You were absolutely mortified that your then-boyfriend (also then-resident) had caused such a scene but there was a part of you so warmed by the fact he would fight for you.Â
âPlease forgive me, baby. I truly am sorry. It was a really, really, really shitty day. I can tell you all about it now. Start to finish.â He grabbed your hands, his tone turned pleading.
Finally, you cracked a small smile and for the second time that day, you watched his shoulders drop.
âI donât want to hear about it. I just wanted to help.â You maneuvered your hands to hold his back and squeeze them tightly. âOf course, I forgive you. Iâm sorry for pushing.â
He raised your joined hands and kissed them both. You twisted one of your legs to wrap around his and he took it as an opportunity to pull you closer. Your mouths met in a kiss, much more tender than anything you two had felt since he came home last night. His hands landed on your hips, angling you closer. Yours went to his thighs, creeping up, up, up.
â... Have you given any thought as to how youâre gonna make it up to me?â
He laughed huskily, and you knew neither of you were getting back to sleep tonight.
Summary: You have a hard time on one of the first nights you and Jack stay together. He helps you put yourself back together.
Warnings: anxiety, vague panic attack, trauma responses, talks of medication, pet names, not beta read whoops, no use of Y/N
Word Count: 1,307 words
The first time Jack ever saw you crying, you had been dating for 2 months. You were pretty proud of your self-control. You had worked hard to hold yourself together with him over the last few months. You were a very emotional person, and it really didnât take much at all to tip you over the edge. A commercial, movie, TV show - happy or sad, it really didnât matter. A broken appliance, a spilled drink, a bad day. You name it, youâve cried over it.
It was a particularly ridiculous thing that you had been crying over that night. It was one of the first nights you were staying over at his place. You had let yourself in a little before his shift ended (at his encouragement, he wanted to walk through the door and see you staring up at him) and put through an order for takeout. You were still shitting these nights, you didnât know what he would consider rude or not. You erred on the side of caution, taking off your shoes at the door and neatly hanging up your coat.
You had gone over to his beautifully stocked kitchen - attendingâs salary must be crazy - and poured yourself a glass of water to calm your nerves. You glanced at the clock and saw the hand staring back at you. 7:15PM. Heâd be here soon enough. Your hands shook lightly with anticipation and you instinctively went to flex them to self-soothe, forgetting your grip on the glass.Â
It smashed into pieces on the floor.
Your stomach dropped and your throat felt like it closed up completely. Your eyes burned immediately, scanning the pool of water and shiny glass shards littering the floor. You knew what to do, you werenât an invalid. Pick up the big shards, put down paper towels for the water and hoover the smaller shards. You knew what to do. Yet, you were frozen. Your hands made their way to your face, covering your mouth against your will, like your body was trying to hold you together. You felt the tears start dripping down your face and your knees went shaky and weak. You slowly crouched down.Â
You felt so stupid, something so easily remedied shouldnât cause you this much distress.Â
The door clicked, and you heard Jackâs typically heavy gait coming closer.
âHoney?â How could you answer? He was going to see what a fucking mess you were. How useless. How pathetic.
The floor is actual wood too, you thought. Not the plastic-y lino shit. Oh my God, you had waterlogged the floor and it was going to go mouldy. It would spread to the other rooms before heâd be able to fix it. He was going to have to refloor the entire house.Â
He stopped when he saw the situation and for just a minute, he said nothing. He evaluated the spread before doing anything. You looked up at him. He thought you looked petrified.
Still in his work shoes, he crossed the threshold to where you were crouched before joining you. His hands found your arms, stroking them gently with his thumb.
âWhat happened, baby?â He murmured, all soft and gravelly. If you werenât freaking out, you would think it was so handsome. You couldnât answer, hands still covering your mouth. A gasp was all that came out. His hands moved up to your wrists.
âTake a deep breath, honey. Youâre good, everything is fine. I just want to make sure youâre okay. You donât look okay.â He continued, gently tugging your hand down. He placed one on his chest, over his heart. He took exaggerated breaths in and out, getting you to copy without telling you what to do.
âIâm sorry.â You whispered, finding your voice. He hushed you, telling you to follow his breathing for a few more minutes.
His hands dropped yours after a while, they took up residence on your cheeks instead. His eyes were clouded and worried.
âI dropped your glass.â You frown, lip quivering. Your tears had only just stopped flowing. His thumbs rub at the irritated circles under your eyes.
âI see that.â He replied, gently. He paused, waiting for more context, before realising there isnât any. His heart broke a little seeing the wild look in your eyes.
âAre you hurt?â You sniffled, shaking your head. He helped you stand, keeping his arms supporting yours. You reached behind for the paper towels, only for them to be gently plucked from your hands. His brows furrowed.
âIâm not worried about a little water right now.â Effortlessly picking you up, you were carried to the plush couch. The scrub material felt so static-y and you were distantly reminded of how much Jack loved and needed his after-work showers. The guilt settled in your stomach once more. He set you down on the couch and once he sat himself, you were tugged onto his lap.
âCan I see your hands, precious?â He crooned, taking one in his own. At your affirmative, he inspected one after the other, stopping on each side to press a long kiss on them. He examined your feet also, pressing a kiss on each ankle. Once he had seen you were certainly not in any pain, he looked at your face. His lips pursed in that way people do when they arenât sure what to say, and his head tilted.
âI donât know whatâs wrong with me. Iâm so sorry.â You mutter, nearly inaudible.
âThereâs nothing wrong with you. You had a moment, and a lot of feelings about it.â His hands squeezed your cheeks.
âI try to be less mental, I swear.â
âYouâre- I hope you donât try to hide from me. You looked terrified, my love. I donât want you feeling like you have to be less yourself around me.â Nobody had ever looked at him like that. Not even in the Middle East. He hoped no one ever would again.
âI wanted to clean it. I didnât want you to be upset.â Your hand rattled once more. Jack grabbed them, and pressed kiss after kiss after kiss on them.
âWhy would I ever be upset over a little glass?â
âI ruined your floor.â
âBaby.â He laughed. âIf a drop of water was gonna ruin my floor, this house would have rotted a long time ago.â
âYouâre gonna sit here, close your eyes and take some nice deep breaths for me. Can you do that for me, darling girl?â You nodded, feeling him slip off the couch.
You did as you were asked, listening to the sounds of him cleaning the mess. He plopped back down beside you afterward.
âThe waterâs gone. The glass is cleaned. The floor is perfect.â He held your gaze, lowering his head with yours when you tried to duck him.
âMhm-mhm. Thank you.â You said, hesitantly.
âCan you repeat what I told you?â
âThe waterâs gone. The glass is cleaned. The floor is perfect.â You whispered.
âGood girl, one more time.â
âThe waterâs gone. The glass is cleaned. The floor is perfect.â You repeated, a little stronger this time.
âThatâs exactly right. Everything is just fine.â His thumb glided up and down a spot on your leg.
âAnything else you wanna tell me?â He murmured, voice a bare rumble.
âFood should be here soon?â You offered lamely in return. He laughed softly.
In the morning, you two will talk about what happened tonight. He will ask why you were so frightened of him. He will ask about the pills you take every morning and you will answer. Tomorrow, you will feel safe with someone like you never have before. Nothing and everything will change all at once, but that will be tomorrowâs discussion.
At this moment, Jack Abbot will hold his lover and neither of them will say anything else.
Summary: You get sick, and he takes care of you. All fluff and mush.
Warnings: None really. Mentions of fevers, pet names galore, no use of Y/N, not beta read whoops
Word count: 905 words
Another grueling nightshift, another morning spent on the roof. Robbyâs gentle teasing and turn of phrase hid thinly veiled concern, and if this was another time in Jackâs life, he'd understand. Before, when work was over, he went home to a silent house. The same house that held memories of a dead woman and what felt to Jack to be a dead man as well. Ever since he had met her, however, everything changed. Mornings were now something he looked forward to.
Robby and him never really talked about the positive impact she had on his life. They never had to. Everytime he had found Jack on the roof since they started going steady, he had stayed firmly on the inside of the rail, elbows resting on the cool metal.
They walked down the stairs, exchanging handover details before they get into it properly. Only a few criticals left from the night crew. Jack prided himself on having a very efficient crew. He gave Ellis a good pat on the shoulder as he was leaving, she had done a few tough procedures that night, but he knew she could do it.
So, all-in-all, Jack Abbot was in a good mood leaving work. He drove with the radio on, fingers drumming to the beat reverberating softly through the car speakers. It was a beautiful day, maybe they could go for a walk later. Pulling up to the house, he admired the potted plants you had lovingly bought to liven the place up. He unlocked the front door and all but skipped through it.
The house was silent. Huh. That was odd. As long as Jack had known his partner, you'd been as bad a sleeper as him. And always an early riser. He glanced at his watch - 7:45 AM. you were sleeping in.
âBabyâŠ?â His gravelly voice rang out. He called again once he got into the main hallway and heard a faint âhmâ in response coming from the bedroom.
He crept into the bedroom, looking into two glassy eyes that looked sleepily back at him. He knelt beside her and took her face in his hand, immediately frowning at the heat in her cheeks.
âHi darling,â You began sleepily, âhow was work?â
He pressed his lips to your forehead, sneakily checking you temperature again. Hot, hot.
âFine, good. Same old same old.â He replied, distracted. âWhatâs up with you, sleepyhead?â
âEugh, slept through my alarm, I guess.â He could hear the phlegm in your throat.
âYeah? Lay back, pretty girl.â You didnât need to be told twice before flopping down, no energy in your body.
Jack rooted around in the bedside drawer before finding what he was looking for.
âOpen.â He said simply, making an âahâ sound instinctively. Your eyes remained closed and you had no idea he had a thermometer, but your mouth still opened. He appreciated your utter trust in him.
âKeep that there for a sec.â Not that you had any energy to spit it out. Jack had walked away again. It hadnât beeped, but he knew you had a fever. He popped some Advil into his hand and filled your favourite water bottle.
Goods in hand, he checked in again. The thermometer sounded when he walked in. Looking over it, he softly tut tut tutâed and shook his head. 102.4° F.
âAm I dying?â You murmured, tiredly.
âDefinitely not well, Iâm afraid. Youâll have to try harder to get away from me, though. Sit up for me, honey.â Jack cradled you into a seating position and put the tablets into your hands. You swallowed without asking what they were, accepting the water bottle after.
He maneuvered himself onto the other side of you, switching the wall-mounted TV onto some nature documentary for some quiet background noise for the both of you. Turning the brightness down halfway, He leans down to kiss you properly for the first time today.
âYouâll get sick.â You protested but he laughed into your mouth.
âI think Iâve got a better tolerance than that, sweet thing.â
Your eyes closed again, but he could feel you trying to wake yourself up.
âGo back to sleep. Your body needs this. Besides, Iâm napping anyway.â He lazily threw one arm around you, laying both of you down. Jack pressed one more kiss onto your nose when he finally felt you relax. He tried to watch the documentary for a while but drifted off not too long after. You stayed curled around each other.
The next time you woke, the sunshine was poking through the half-drawn blinds. Jack knows you like to wake up to a little sun, wherever possible. You register something in your mouth. He was taking your temperature again. You reached for your phone, careful not to dislodge the thermometer - 12:06 PM.
It bleeped and you took the liberty of taking it out yourself. 101.8° F. Jack walked in just as you were looking and snatched it out of your hand, shooting you a disapproving look. You couldnât help the smile that bloomed on your lips.
âItâs going down. Feeling better?â He pressed kiss after kiss onto your shoulder.
âA bit. Thank you for taking care of me. I know youâre sick of sick people when you get out of The Pitt.â You frown, guilt gnawing at your stomach. He kissed the corners of your frown.
âNonsense. Iâll always take care of you, sweet girl.â