Pervy!JA x reader!nurse 🫣 another day another brain dump
I’m thinking of reader during her first month at the Pitt, and her interactions with her handsome attending, Jack Abbot.
Why is it that every time you needed help, Jack was there to the rescue? He’s always checking in, making sure your day is going smooth.
Why is it that every time there’s a complex case, you’re called in to help? He always insists he needs you to help, because you’re the best.
Why is it that you somehow always end up in the same room with your attending? If there’s a patient Jack’s not comfortable with, he’s there in the room with you.
You love it, of course. You don’t mind the attention, or his flirtatious little comments. Or his glances that makes heat cling onto your cheeks. Until one day you’re pulled to the side and someone gives you advice you didn’t ask for. “Be careful of Jack, he’s known to be the ER fuck boy.”
Oh.
So now with every interaction, you overthink it. You start to avoid him, sending someone else into the room he’s in. Weeks pass of you pretty much ignoring him — he doesn’t give up. Why isn’t he giving up? Is he really that desperate to sleep with you? Or have you got it all wrong..?
You were so angry with him one day, all because he told you that you looked pretty when you said you didn’t feel like you looked good. You swore never to speak with him again. You need him to give up.
But what was he giving up? He was simply being nice to you.
You get so stupidly drunk one night, trip outside the club, landing straight on your face. You of course end up in the Pitt under his care. High on meds and so wasted on alcohol, you wait for him to flirt. To take advantage. To touch you.
But he’s so respectful. Why has the flirting stopped?
So you ask him. “Are you really the ER fuck boy?”
“Excuse me?”
“Are you that desperate to sleep with me?”
“What are you even talking about?” Jack looks at Robby who’s also in the room, confused, and looks scared of this accusation.
“Marie told me — she said you always fuck the nurses. You have a track record.”
“What the fuck?” Jack whispers in disbelief.
“Marie?” Robby asks, “The same Marie who you reported to HR for making up stories about you and for harassment, Jack?”
Jack nods quietly, continues to work on your forehead.
Oh.
“So you don’t want to fuck me?” You ask him.
“Sorry sweetheart, no… I was just being nice.”
Once you’re in the taxi that Jack orders for you, he turns to Robby who joins him outside.
“That’s the last time I’m lying for you, brother” Robby chuckles, “you really gotta stop sleeping with our nurses.”
Ughhh yess bunny's nap a lot so she's definitely gonna get cranky easily :(
But!! They're trying really really hard to prevent you from getting cranky.
They set up very strict nap schedules, a strict cut off time to stop drinking caffeine/sugar, and they're trying a reward system to help keep you satisfied. Even if you don't wanna nap after lunch Jack is always stern about it. After being in the military, all of your whining didn't really phase him. He was definitely the meanie out of the two.
"Sweetheart go put your iPad on the charge, it's nap time"
He'd look down at you from the couch with his readers on the edge of his nose as you laid on the living room carpet. Holding the iPad above your face while you played your games and laid on your back. Your eyebrows furrowing enough to create a definite line between your brows before you let out a low grunt and thumped your foot.
"Does 'mmph' mean yes sir? C'mon get up. Now."
He shifts his book to the side, sitting up a little straighter. He wasn't always mean, and it's not like he was actuallyyy mad at you. He just knows you need a little tough love or else you'll get bratty and won't listen to them.
You don't even turn your head away from the iPad as your ears tuck back and you thump your foot again. You tried to keep up the tough act but in all honesty you knew that if you looked at Jack you would be tucking your tail between your legs.
"alright that's it"
He takes your ipad and sets it on the couch with ease despite how tight you were trying to hold it. He turns back around and throws you half over his shoulder as he carries you down the hall to his bedroom. You try to squirm in his grip, refusing to back down so quickly even though you felt sleepy.
Jack could feel the vibration of your grunts against his shoulder. He knew you were just being fussy for no reason at this point, and he was feeling a little grumpy himself from lack of sleep, soo he grunts back at you. He wasn't making fun of you— well he kinda was but c'mon you were trying to get on his nerves first anyway.
But then when he lays down with you on his chest and the blanket wrapped around the two of you, it felt so calm and warm. You were still letting out soft grunts in protest but instead of Jack responding with grunts he rubbed your back up and down and just hummed along as if you guys were having a conversation.
"mmph."
"mhm yeah I know, this is just so terrible isn't it?"
"mm."
"uh huh then what happened?"
But you kinda put up less of a fuss when it's with Robby— it's not like you have a favorite but he's just more soothing. Like he's kinda sneaky about it and he'll just slowly convince you to come cuddle up with him instead of announcing it's nap time.
Jealousy, Jealousy - Jack Abbot x Wife!Reader (ft. Michael Robinavitch and Baran Al-Hashimi
Part 4 of the Double Date universe.
Summary: You’re jealous of the new interim ED chief thinking she trying to steal your husband and Robby’s jealous thinking she’s trying to be Jack’s best friend.
Tags: fluff, humour, mention of mental health, Jack is down bad for his wife, Robby is kind of a man-whore, Reader is in her mid-late 30s and is a university professor, reader is afab, no physical description of reader, canon divergence, slightly mild swearing, Robby is at minimum straight but is a raging bisexual although he doesn’t know it yet, we do not tolerate Al-Hashimi hate in this fic.
Word Count: 1.2k
A/N: Robby is still bad at boundaries but this time he has a jealous streak.
Part 1, Part 2, Part 3
“O, beware, my lord, of jealousy;
It is the green-eyed monster which
doth mock the meat it feeds on."
You were sat in your office reading through research papers for your next book. It had been a particularly quiet day at the university as you thumbed through hundreds of pages of manuscript copies and citations. A lukewarm coffee sat half drank on your desk in a mug that read “Resting Wench Face”. You barely noticed the time flying as you head a loud knock at your door. Looked up you groaned at seeing the person in the doorway.
“First my house? And now my work? Are you stalking me now?”
“It’s office hours.” Robby said casually as if it was obvious before making himself comfortable in your spare office chair.
“For students. Not for fifty something year old men having an ongoing life crisis.” You retorted.
“I don’t see any students here now.” Robby looked around to make his point.
You hated that he was right, granted that you preferred for them to schedule an appointment first so you were prepared ahead of time.
“What is it this time?”
Robby leaned in close over your desk. “So, you know the new interim chief, Dr. Al-Hashimi?”
“Yes, I briefly met her when I dropped Jack off for his shift on July fourth.”
“Well, I’ve been getting Dennis to do surveillance for me while I’m away—”
“You’re doing what?” You interrupted nearly yelling. You clocked that piece of information about Whitaker for later; that is going to be a whole other conversation.
“Anyway, he said Jack and Baran are getting ‘chummy’. She brought him coffee.”
“Okay?” You responded unsure of where Robby was going with this.
“She’s brought him coffee every day they have a shift together. She’s trying to replace us! Dennis says that she touches his biceps and gives him non-medical advice, and she laughs at his jokes.”
You sighed rubbing your eyes in exasperation at Robby’s ruminations but you couldn’t ignore the creeping feeling of jealousy in your gut.
“Any who,” continued Robby, “the staff is going to the bar tonight and you know what that means! Primetime for Baran to get up all in Jack’s space.”
“You’re overthinking this way too much.” You said trying to convince yourself.
Robby leaned forward adjusting the stray papers on your desk out of habit (secretly you thought he was slightly OCD after watching him with hand sanitizer). Standing up from his chair, Robby looked at you one last time before leaving.
“7:30, Lou’s bar. Wear something extra slutty.”
After heading home to eat and change into something less professor-like, you waited outside the bar for Robby at exactly 7:25pm as you were his guest tonight and not your husband's.
Tearing through your closet, you had found some clothes that you reserved for girls night. You had opted for a sexy black backless halter top which was probably cut way too deep showing off a very generous amount of your cleavage which would have Jack salivating as you paired it with a specific pair of jeans that he liked.
“You dress up nice, Doc.” Robby commented as he appeared around the corner as reached in front of you to open the bar door. “After you.”
“Thanks.”
Walking into the familiar bar that you visited with Jack before on various occasions, you found the group of doctors and nurses sat at a large booth with their drink.
“Woah-oh-oh look at the professor! Glad you could make it Hot Stuff.”
“Thanks Parker. I almost never came until Robby begged me for emotional support.”
Robby huffed in response from behind.
“I’m heading up to the bar. Y/N, can I get you anything?” John asked as he was maneuvering his way out of the booth.
“Something fruity. I’m in the mood for a good time.”
“You got it!”
Smiling and greeting everyone else, you sat next to your husband trapping himself between you and Baran who sat on his left side. Across from you, Robby sat next to Dana who was sipping a beer.
“So, you came here with Robby?” Jack questioned, his hand holding onto the cold glass of whiskey.
“Yeah, he stopped by my office today and invited me.”
“He was at your office?” His eyes scrunched together. It was not usual for anybody else except Jack to visit you at work.
“He wanted to talk to me about a couple of things.”
“Did one of those things include you wearing a shirt with your tits half hanging out?”
“That was all me. Jack, you grew up in the 80s, right? Did you forget that girls just wanna have fun?”
Jack opened his mouth but ended up gaping like a fish with no quip to respond with. Luckily for you John had returned with your drink which you accepted graciously. However, in the corner of your eye, you saw Baran’s eyes flitting towards you briefly as you turned back towards Jack who decided now was the time to get handsy.
For the rest of the evening, you were making subtle back-handed comments at Baran each time she leaned closer than appropriate to Jack. Robby was no better as he tried to capture your husband's attention the entire time by involving him in stories and jokes.
Excusing yourself to go to the bathroom, you felt a presence behind you as you were about to push the door open.
Turning around you saw Baran looking nervously at you.
"Hi?" You said confused at why the other woman had followed you.
"Hi, I— uh, have something I'd like to tell you so I can get it out of my system and move on with my life." Baran admitted swaying on the balls of her feet.
"Oh, okay."
"Ever since we met a few weeks ago, I haven't been able to get you out of my head, and Jack has spoken about you and shown me pictures, and I just want to say that I think your beautiful, and I know like you're in love with Jack— and I suck at this as your the first woman I've ever had feelings for since after divorcing my ex-husband."
You blinked clearly not expecting that then starting to laugh, “I’m sorry, it’s just— it’s just that I thought you were trying to steal my husband. Fucking Robby—listen to him, my ass.”
Composing yourself, you continued, “I’m flattered that you think that, and while my heart belongs to Jack, trust me it’s too late to leave him; I’ve already spent way too much time training him, I would be happy to set you up with some friends of mine. And I mean, if we do decide to experiment in our marriage, you’ll have to fight Robby first. I’m ninety percent sure he’s unaware that he’s also in love with Jack.”
Baran let a smile creep onto her face as the anxiety washed away. “I’d appreciate that, and thank you understanding.”
“Of course! After I finish up here, we can go through my contact list and see which of my friends are free. And then you can help me get payback on Robby for all the times he’s walked in on Jack and I having sex, and making me go crazy.”
Finally gonna answer this req! Tysm @princessjas1-11 I know it's not much but I hope its satisfactory <3 I also tried to make it a little longer than my usual blurbs
݁ ˖Ი𐑼⋆
Therapy Bunny! Reader × Rabbot (pun intended)- First time in the Pitt
°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.
I think the two are actually very strict about her not coming into the ER. They don't want her to get scared from all the noises, plus her nose is so sensitive that the smell of all the blood might make her feel nauseous :((
They also can't leave you home alone while they switch shifts— so usually they tuck you in the back seat with a blanket and obviously your iPad. Usually you just hangout in there for like 15 minutes while they switch off then the other one drives you home <3
But this was the first time there had been a major accident right before they were switching off. Right as Robby walked through the doors with coffee in hand, Jack was throwing on a yellow gown at the ambulance bay.
"8 car pile up coming in, might be stuck here for over 30 minutes... Do you think we'll have to bring her in this time?"
Jack's voice came out in a low hush as Robby walked up next to him. Nobody had really known about their adoption together, they just knew that Jack and Robby randomly moved in together a few months ago.
"um, yeah. I'll go grab her and put her in the break room. Her iPad will keep her distracted anyway"
Robby grumbles with a stretch before turning right back around and walking to the car. Opening the back car door and gently coaxing you out of the car while wrapping your blanket around your shoulders like a mini cape.
"c'mon baby, I gotta help Jackie with some work stuff so you have to sit inside for a while. They have a nice room with a couch for you to just relax, okay? And try not to look around when we walk in, it might be scary"
He let out a huff of breath, preparing himself for all the nosey coworkers as he guides you in with a heavy arm wrapped around your shoulders.
Your nose is twitching so much with all the nasty hospital smells, and your ears are so flat that they cover most of your face. Clutching your iPad to your chest as you keep your head down.
The sliding doors open with a loud woosh and the sounds of multiple beeps and voices flood your senses. You immediately cling to the side of Robbys leg, the height difference eminent as he tries to be subtle about guiding you towards the break room without anyone noticing— but Dana is already stopping the two of you right in your tracks.
"Hey c'mon get out there we have the other 6 traumas coming in soon— oh and who's this? Pet? Niece? Girlfriend?" She rambles out assumptions without giving him a chance to correct her, already leaning down to eye level to speak to you since you seemed so scared.
"Hi there baby, is Robby taking good care of you? Sometimes it gets a little busy in here so don't be scared asking one of us if you need help alright?"
She waits until you give her a shy nod before ruffling the soft top of your head right between your ears and standing back up straight.
"ah ah I'm not succumbing to your interrogations. I'm jus' taking her to the break room until Jack can take her home. Should only be about 40 minutes at most. Shes a good kid, she won't cause trouble"
He squeezes your shoulders as his gaze flicks down to you with a soft smile.
"aw she's Jack's baby too? I've caught him talking to a girl on the phone a few times I always wondered who— alright go! I'll go get her situated so you can help Jack get out of here already"
She gently replaced Robby's arm with her own, leading you to the break room and grabbing a small cup of fruit from the fridge and giving it to you.
Only 10 minutes later and the whole staff had heard about the little bunny Robby tucked away in the corner.
Princess and all the nurses were causing gossip and even the security guys started placing bets on how you were in relation to them. As word got spread around you had actually been having a nice time on the couch. Just munching away on some strawberries per the usual. Until the door creaked open.
It was hard to describe him. He was tall but also a little short compared to other guys in the ER, he was lanky but it also looked like he had some muscle? But that didn't matter, what you noticed first was the dog features on him. The small floppy ears hidden beneath his soft curls and his general demeanor that was much different than a normal human. His badge holding up his name that read 'Whitaker'
"hey um, Dr Abbot sent me in here to check on you.. so is everything okay??"
"umm, yeah. It smells kinda weird here though"
Your tail twitched slightly as you observe him. It was strange seeing a hybrid having a real job, you were used to them being seen as pets. But Jackie did tell you one time that dogs were good for the ER because their nose could help sniff out stuff that the labs would take hours finding.
"yeah I know, it took me a few months to adjust to it"
There's a few beats of silence before he tilts his head with a hesitant tone.
"so um— sorry if this is too personal but are you like Abbot and Robby's kid? We're all just a little confused since they've never talked about you"
You tuck your feet under your blanket as you think about your answer, setting your iPad to the side to show him your paying attention. Robby had been trying to teach you manners lately so now was the perfect time to practice!
"kinda? They saved me from a bad shelter, and they take care of me like their my dad's but they don't make me call them that. So um— yeah I don't really know, but I do know they love me very very much"
He hums in response, considering your answer and understanding what you mean.
"that makes sense, we don't always have to put a label on it. It's the love that's the important part.. I gotta get back out there, but it was nice meeting you!"
His tail wags behind him as he stands up, offering you a small handshake which you accept. (But it's honestly a little awkward with how much bigger his hand is). Your own tail twitching in response since you made your first doggy hybrid friend!!
You didn't have many interactions with anyone else though, Robby and Jack made a very very stern announcement to leave you alone— but once jack picked you up from the breakroom all hell broke loose.
He was holding your hand while guiding you out of the breakroom, your iPad and blanket stuffed into his backpack so you wouldn't have to carry it.
"let's go have breakfast at the diner, yeah sweetheart? Get you some pancakes before you turn cranky"
But then the whole time he's trying to walk out of the ER everyone keeps staring at you and making you tuck half of your face into jacks body as you cling to him. Practically using him as a shield.
But the only person who actually had the balls to come up and say anything was Langdon.
"aw you're a cute thing aren't you? I love your shirt it looks adorable on you"
You shyly nod your head as you feel your cheeks heat up quickly. Murmuring a small thankyou into Jack's side.
"c'mon dont be so shy I just wanted to say hi. I work with your dad's a lot so I was curious about this pretty little girl they've been hiding"
"she doesn't have to say hi back."
Jack barks back sternly before picking you up and carrying you out to the car with a sour look on his face. He usually wasn't mean to Langdon, he understood that he had good intent but it still pissed him off that another man made you flustered!
Anyway you never went back inside ever again BUT! They did let Dana and Whitaker talk to you sometimes. Particularly if they had a rough shift they would come to the car and say hi to you, you were a therapy bunny after all so it really helped. Plus it was really nice talking to Dennis, he definitely gained some trust from Robby and Jack since they occasionally asked him to watch you if they had to pull doubles.
A/N: I only finished this because of @neverendingdreamers who told me to get back to work😭 <3 literally the whole time I was writing it I had that one South Park scene stuck in my head ->
a/n: I MADE THIS BECAUSE THEY ARE BOTH SUPER HOT IK ABOUT THE IMPLICATIONS ABOUT HIM BEING IN THE MILITARY AND ALL THAT JUST SUSPEND YOUR DISBELIEF!!!
baran doesn’t have a kid because i don’t want her to.
also, i have wavy hair that is a bitch to deal with, so reader has wavy hair that is a bitch to deal with.
when baran and jack got married they had one rule: no kids.
no fostering, no surrogacy, no adoption, no kids.
the thing is, a few years into the marriage they realized that they wanted something to take care of, to love.
baran went to a hybrid shelter, just to look around. she found you hiding in the corner, not talking to the other hybrids.
you were the youngest one there, and very shy. you wouldn’t look at anyone, but you glanced at her. that’s when she knew it was all over.
she talked to jack and he agreed that having a service animal would be good for them.
something sweet with a sweet disposition and sweet little holes to use. something to love.
baran called the shelter and set up a private meeting with you. it went well (ish).
you were terrified of jack but you seemed to be okay with baran.
the shelter said that you were being picked on because of how shy you were.
jack and baran agreed to foster you, just to see if you would come out of your shell.
jack knew that the second they brought you home, baran wouldn’t let you leave.
the first few days were really rough. they set you up your very own room. all new clothes and a phone for you to keep, even if you didn’t stay.
they thought it would make you feel more comfortable with them, but you just stayed in your bedroom.
you wouldn’t even sit on the bed, you would just cower in the corner.
it was a struggle for baran and jack. they didn’t know what they were doing wrong.
“baran, she hates it here! she sits in the corner of her room, shaking!”
“she’s just shy jack! i am not giving her back, i like her.”
“baran, i like her too, really. i’m not asking you to give her back, i’m asking you to change your approach.”
“fuck, fine okay. lets just do some research.”
and research they did.
they started to get you used to their scent by leaving their clothes anywhere that you frequent.
they made you a little space in the living room where you could create a burrow.
slowly but surely, you started to leave your room.
first only to grab food, but little by little you would stay outside.
you would take some of the clothes that they left out.
the best day of jack’s life was when he saw you wearing one of his sweaters. the best day of baran’s life was when you gave her a slice of your orange.
you were warming up to them. you were slowly building your burrow. you were asking them for help.
one time a few weeks into living with them, you had a knot in your hair.
it was really close to your ear, so every time you would brush it, you hit your sensitive ear.
you were crying on the floor when baran found you.
“bunny… what happened?”
“it hurts!”
“what hurts sweetheart? your ear?”
baran squints at the irritated skin and the knot by it.
“oh poor girl, i see the problem. are you okay if i grab a comb and help you?”
when you nod, baran’s heart soars. she doesn’t make a big deal out of it though, she doesn’t want to scare you off.
she helps you lay your head in her lap and she slowly combs through your hair.
she sees that your brush is covered in knots that you had ripped out.
“bunny… are all these knots from your hair?”
when you don’t respond, she takes that as a yes.
“okay… have you been taking care of yourself?”
what she really wanted to ask was ‘how did it get this bad?’ but she doesn’t. she doesn’t want you to feel attacked.
when she finally gets the knot out, you don’t get up. you burry your head into her lap. you mumble pathetically,
“my hair is hard to brush.”
baran nods slowly. she runs her fingers through your smooth hair.
“well, you did really well brushing it all out.“
you nod into her lap and shut your eyes.
“you know, it looks like your hair is kind of like mine.”
you perk up a little bit. baran is soooooo pretty and if you have something in common with her, that means you’ve gotta be a little pretty too.
“really?”
“yeah, it’s not as curly, but i think you would benefit from using some of my things. i can show you now if you want.”
you nod and baran helps you sit up. she helps you change into a tank top (she covers her eyes so that you don’t get uncomfortable.)
she brings you into her and jack’s bathroom. she helps you wet your hair and starts to shampoo it.
“you know bunny, you can come into me and jack’s bedroom whenever you want, this is your house too.”
you don’t respond, but baran knows you understand. jack walks into the bathroom and is surprised to see you and baran together.
“you girls having fun?”
“i think we are. i’m helping bunny do her hair.”
“well that’s exciting. is this just a girls thing or am i allowed to hang out?”
baran looks down at you and smiles.
“only if you want sweetheart.”
“… okay.”
jack smiles and sits down on a stool.
“you know, i always tell baran that if she wasn’t the best doctor ever, she would be the best hairstylist ever.”
“jack, you only say that because you know nothing about hair.”
“i like your hair baran…”
jack and baran look down at you. they feel like their hearts are about to explode with how adorable you are.
In your experience, fighting has always signified the end of things. So after arguing, when Jack takes a step back, and turns his back on you, your brain recognizes it as the behaviour you've become accustomed to. The only other relationship you'd been in was the messy kind. On again, off again, and it would always end after something like this. A lump forms in your throat as your worst fears come to fruition. He's shutting you out. He doesn't want to do this with you anymore. It is over. Flames to embers to ash.
For a moment, you don't move—you remain seated on the couch, fiddling with the bracelet on your wrist; a gift from Jack. One you had cherished for the months you've been with him. You don't know what else to do, so you unclasp it with trembling fingers, fumbling with it for a few seconds. Gently, you set it on the coffee table then reach for your purse and stand. When you glance up, Jack has turned around. He looks confused, and… hurt. Eyes a little wet as he gives you a once over.
"What are you doing?" He asks, taking a stilted step towards you. His gaze darts between the bracelet you've removed and your purse now slung over your shoulder.
"I thought…" you begin before realizing that you're not sure how to explain yourself. He's got you second guessing yourself. "I thought we were done."
Jack crosses the distance the moment those words leave your mouth. He shakes his head, his hands coming up to hover over your waist—a little uncertain where he's always been bold.
"I was taking a breather, not breaking up with you, sweetheart."
"Oh," you say dumbly. You blink, and the tears that had unknowingly gathered along your waterline cling to your lashes. "I feel silly now."
"Don't."
He takes another step forward then, and drags your stiff form into his arms. Your head knocks to his chest, cheek squishing against his cotton t-shirt. He holds you tight—tighter than he ever has before. Beneath his ribcage, you can hear the quickened beating of his heart. At last, and for what feels like the first time since this all began, you take a gulp of air—your breath flittering against him. His chin lands on the top of your head, tucking you away into the shelter of his body.
When your mind catches up, you circle your arms around his middle to return the embrace. It's like his calm exudes from him and absorbs into you. He barely has to do a thing to make you feel better—he just understands, and that's what is so scary about the thought of losing him. He is your person. The person you feel most comfortable around.
"Arguing from time to time is normal," he mutters, sliding a hand up your back, "And for the record, it's gonna take a hell of a lot more than one disagreement to get rid of me."
You can hear the grin in his voice, and you give a watery laugh.
Emotional Damage Control - Jack Abbot x Wife! Reader (ft. Michael Robinavitch)
Part 3 of the Double Date Universe.
Summary: You and Jack become Robby’s emotional support couple while he starts his sabbatical.
Tags: slightly nsfw, fluff, humour, mention of mental health, Jack is down bad for his wife, Robby is kind of a man-whore, Reader is in her mid-late 30s and is a university professor, reader is afab, no physical description of reader, canon divergence, slightly mild swearing, alcohol use, Robby is at minimum straight but is a raging bisexual although he doesn’t know it yet.
Word Count: 1.0k
A/N: Robby still hasn’t learned what boundaries are.
Part 1, Part 2
It was a Friday evening and You and Jack were showering together after he came home from a long day covering the day shift while the ED figured out the double attending coverage now that Robby started his sabbatical. Between Jack's odd shifts for that week and you holed up in your office at the university, neither of you had any intimate time together until now.
Currently, you were sitting on Jack's lap on his shower bench facing him as you both made out with the spray of the hot water and steam surrounding you. With your chests pressing against one another and his hands on your waist, Jack began to involuntarily grind against you as the moment became exceedingly heated. And before Jack could push himself into you, the door of your ensuite flew open banging against the wall.
"I broke up with Noelle." Robby exclaimed barging in like he owned the place.
You screeched at the intrusion pulling back from Jack. Unlike last time, there was no blankets for you to protect your modesty with due to the open concept bathroom you'd designed to accommodate Jack's disability as an amputee. The bathroom was big enough for him to use his wheelchair instead of crutches after showering meaning that the only thing you could do was yank the shower curtain(which had be inconveniently pushed aside) towards you both.
“That’s it!” You cried, “we’re changing the locks! This isn’t a fucking Roman bath house!”
"Nothing that I haven't seen or walked in on before." Robby mentioned casually grabbing the towels that were laid down on a stool handing them to you through a space between the wall and the curtain.
"Jack!"
Jack briefly closed his in exasperation after being interrupted once again by Robby within the last month. "Brother, you're giving us mixed signals here."
He turned off the water and took the towels from Robby's outstretched hand and wrapped it around your body. Helping your husband stand up and brace himself against the shower handle, you retuned the favour wrapping the plush towel around his waist. Moving the curtain to the side, you moved to get his wheelchair rather than having Jack use his crutches. It had taken many therapy sessions for Jack to accept that sometimes he needed a mobility aid, and so after getting married, you decided to build a house with a large master bedroom and adjoining ensuite for that specific reason.
"If I wanted to sleep with you I'd have objected at your wedding and whisked you away to Cabo." Retorted Robby as he started to follow you and Jack into your bedroom.
You scoffed. "Did you at least bring food this time?"
"Taco kits and margarita mix."
You dug through your dresser tossing Jack a pair of pyjamas, "at least he's learning."
"Better late than never."
After forcing Robby to cook tacos and mix drinks due to his intrusion, you all sat in the living room with old reruns of M*A*S*H playing in the background. You were perched on the couch with your feet on Jack’s lap drinking your third glass of margarita and finishing your second taco.
“Why won’t anyone stay with me?” Robby sulked as he was stretched out in your arm chair nursing a beer.
“Because you go through girlfriends like Henry the eighth went through wives. When you get bored of them, you dump them.” You explained taking another sip of your drink.
“That is not true! Jack! Tell her it’s not true.”
Jack let out a huff at being dragged into one of your many arguments with his best friend. “I’m siding with Y/N on this one. Happy wife, happy life.”
As Robby opened his mouth to retort, his phone chimed. “That’s Whitaker.”
Whitaker? You looked at your husband mouthing in confusion.
Intern. He mouthed back. You watched his eyes flit to Robby before glancing back at you. Nebraskan farm boy.
In response you took a long sip of your drink. You were going to need more alcohol to get through this if Robby was getting involved with another intern half his age. It was bad enough with Heather where you bitched at him for a solid hour over power dynamics between couples.
Would the older man ever learn? The simple answer is no.
Sure, Robby could throw yours and Jack’s age gap back in your faces but you were not your husband’s subordinate and you both worked in very different fields.
You couldn’t wait until the day Robby decided to open his fucking eyes and date a more age appropriate person that wasn’t a twink or a med student, or both.
Hours later you were struggling to keep your eyes open as the end credits ran on the tv from the last episode watched. Swinging your legs, you stretched and stood up from couch peering at Jack who was also trying to stay awake. However, you nearly jumped out of your skin when Robby let out a loud snore as he slept in the arm chair.
“I am not dragging him to the guest room.” You whispered to Jack.
“Leave him. He’ll be fine, just keep the tv on. It’ll drown out the snoring.”
Conceding, you placing your throw blanket that was on the couch on top of Robby. “We should really change the locks though.”
“He’ll just steal one of our keys and make his own copy. Like he did last time.” Jack said leading you to your bedroom and locking the door behind him.
Climbing into bed, you snuggled into the blankets as Jack did his nightly routine with his residual limb.
"Yeah, but he's seen me naked twice! He knows what my boobs look like— he has no shame."
"I'll talk to him tomorrow." Jack agreed before lying down next you and stealing a sweet kiss.
"Thank you. If he keeps showing up like this, we might end up with him as a third.”
Jack let out a short laugh as he turned off his lamp on the night table on his side of the bed, “go to sleep, I’ll make it up to you tomorrow.”
Okay okay I'm gonna make this a quick drabble cuz if I make it too long I'll lose my mojo (send more asks guys it's helping me get back in the writing spirit🙏)
Sooo we haven't really discussed bunnies burrow— but as we know, there's a floor vent inside of it to keep air circulating and it especially helps in the summer time!
But lately the AC was working a little too well. Her poor toes would be so cold, no matter how many blankets she curled under she was shivering :((
finally after an hour of being too stubborn (and lazy), she finally pulls up the messages app on her iPad. Which she recently decorated btw!! Lots of little stickers but it's the ones they put on produce— like whenever Jack gives her veggies he always peels off the mini oval sticker and puts it on her forehead, then she'll keep it and put it on her iPad case!
Anyway, shes typing all slow cuz her hands are freezing plus she's still getting used to typing instead of writing with a pencil— it's her first time owning a device okay! Don't make fun of her :(
But she finally manages to send out a little text to Robby who was just in the next room reading a book.
🥕- ca yoi come get me?.? Too cold :((+(
You can hear him walking down the hall, entering your room and crouching down by the burrow entrance.
"Sweetie, how are you cold? We bought you like 5 throw blankets."
"I don't know!! It's just been really cold the past few days"
He can hear the soft frown and shiver in your voice, and it's obvious you're still curled under the blankets and haven't made any attempts to come out and face the cold air.
"well are you gonna come out then so we can go to my bed, baby? You know I wont come in there and get you unless you ask me to"
Eventually you give him permission to come in but instead of letting him carry you to his bed, you coax him into hanging out with you in the burrow instead. Tucked under his arm and stealing his warmth while you tell him about the new game you've been playing lately<3
Pillow Talk - Jack Abbot x Wife! Reader (ft. Michael Robinavitch)
Since so many of you you liked Double Date, I thought I’d make a companion / part 2 fic 💚
Summary: Robby needs dating advice and who else would he go to? His favourite married couple: You and Jack.
Tags: Mildly nsfw, fluff, humour, mention of mental health, Jack is down bad for his wife, Robby is kind of a man-whore, Reader is in her mid-late 30s and is a university professor, reader is afab, no physical description of reader, canon divergence, slightly mild swearing, brief but implied mention of abortion, Robby is at minimum straight but is a raging bisexual although he doesn’t know it yet.
Word Count: 1.2k
A/N: Just Robby being bad at boundaries and dating.
It had started off as a regular Friday evening where Jack had the night off and you ordered Chinese take out and putting on an X-Men movie that Jack wanted to watch. More than halfway through the movie and finishing your food, you and Jack had gotten distracted by each other before heading towards your bedroom. After peeling both your clothes off and Jack riling you up, he pounded into you relentlessly with your back sunk into the mattress. That was how Robby found you when he unexpectedly, and quite rudely, barged into your bedroom and sat on your vanity stool sighing in what seemed like despair. He averted his eyes and patiently waited for you and Jack to finish like a good unannounced house guest.
"Do we have a "open vacancy" sign on our bedroom door that I don't know about?" You practically cried as Jack pulled out leaving you to haul a blanket over you both to retain some dignity.
Robby paid no attention to your qualms, "You weren't answering your phones."
"We were busy." Said Jack plainly. He pulled you in closer and wrap an arm around you tightly planting a kiss on your forehead.
"I could tell."
"Before you two gossip girls start shit taking, can you please hand me that shirt?" You asked pointing to the plain black t-shirt belonging to your husband that sat on the dresser.
Robby tossed the piece of clothing towards you which you caught and pulled over your head before climbing out of bed and heading into the ensuite to clean up.
As you were cleaning yourself up, you heard the two men bicker in the background.
"What are you doing here? It's 11pm."
"I need some advice about Noelle."
"And you decided now would be the best time? On my night off? While I'm fucking my wife?"
"...yes."
Walking out of the bathroom, you appear unimpressed at Robby for interrupting your night. These types of nights were few and far in between as Jack decided to take SWAT missions much to your dismay. You had argued about it with him constantly saying that his free time could be used to do something productive like volunteering at the VA or catching up on sleep.
"Are you sure the reason you came this late is because you’re underperforming and needed a live demonstration? And not because you can’t keep a girlfriend for no more than three months?” You questioned with a hint of jest and sarcasm as you lied down in bed next to your husband pulling the blankets closed to your body.
“You’re hilarious. Remind me to bring you food next time so my honour is not verbally attacked.” Said Robby unamused at your joke.
“There’s a next time? At least send us a calendar invite first.” Jack added stretching himself like a cat in your bed then pulling you in close to wrap his arms around your waist.
“I saw Noelle today,” Robby began. He stood up from your vanity seat and sat down on your bed kicking off his sneakers before lying down with his back against the headboard closing his eyes.
“God, Robby, if you wanted a threesome, you could’ve just asked.” You interrupted as Jack let out a bewildered choke.
Robby chose to ignore you.
“She asked about my plans for my sabbatical and insinuated that I cancel my road trip and spend time with her instead.”
"Okay? And?" Jack urged him on.
"I told her I'd consider it."
You sighed frustratedly while snuggling into your husband further, "What you need to consider is a psychiatrist and some good drugs, but please continue."
Robby opened his eyes to shoot daggers at you. Your suggestion, however, was made out of concern. You had seen Jack struggle with his mental health over the last several years and you had suggested that he seek out help from a psychiatrist who could prescribe him medication to help with the PTSD and the nightmares. His pain was both physical with the partial loss of his leg and mentally, and it broke your heart when some days it became unbearable for him to get out of bed.
“Anyways,” Robby continued, “she wants to go out to dinner again and I think she’s hinting at wanting something more.”
“And what’s wrong with that? Does she have two left feet or something? Or she’s divorced with a child at home?” Asks Jack.
Robby looked at the two of you with a look that screamed Are you even being serious right now?
“Wait,” you stopped to think, “are you still upset about Heather moving back to Portland? Are you still in love with her? We told you that it wasn’t a good idea to shack up with your med student but did you listen? No! Men.”
“Sweetheart, let’s not bring up the past. It’s too late in the night to dissect Robby’s trauma.”
“Something happened within the last year didn’t it?!” You ignored Jack staring at the other man intensely trying to get an answer.
“Years ago, when we were together Heather was pregnant. She got rid of it. And I only found out the afternoon before that shooting at PittFest.”
You and Jack twist your head to look at each in shock with wide eyes.
“Well that’s a plot twist.” You said astonished looking back at the older doctor, “I mean good for her for exercising her rights but I’m sorry that you found out on the worst possible day ever.”
“I’m working through it.”
Jack shifted in his spot propping himself onto an elbow, “But you have your doubts because you keep thinking about the what ifs. I get it.”
“Either way, regardless of what Jack and I think, you need to put big-girl panties on and make a decision on if you want a future with Noelle. I like her, Jack likes her. Marry her, don’t marry her.”
“You’re no help, you know that.” Robby rolled his eyes at you for what felt like the umpteenth time that night.
You scoffed returning him the favour. “My area of research is not the dating life of man-whores. If it was, I’d be publishing books like ‘How to Spot a Tool in 30 Seconds or Less’. Now, it’s late and if you’re staying in the guest room, be sure to turn off the lights. If not, please get the hell out so we can finish what you interrupted.”
The next time you saw Robby and Noelle was when you dropped Jack off at work on the Fourth of July.
“Is he— is he breaking up with her?” You questioned standing across from your husband at the nurses station. Hospital drama was so much better than that at the university.
“I don’t know. But that is the most awkward hug between two people that I’ve ever seen. It’s making me uncomfortable.” Replied Jack still staring at the couple across the room.
“Stop making a face before he says something to us!”
“Too late.” He said as you both watch Robby give you both the middle finger like a petulant teenager.
Looking at Jack once more you leaned in close, “if we ever get divorced, you’re getting full custody.”
Jack laughed before leaning in to meet you halfway and planting a kiss on your lips, “as if that would happen.”
pairing: jack abbot x fem!reader no use of y/n )
summary: jack has one night to convince you that his love for you is real
content warnings: yearner jack abbot and avoidant!reader, a lot of vulnerable talking, they both have issues clearly, mention of blood, mention of jack's questioinable hobbies, reader sits in jacks lap, reader is mentioned to have long soft hair, small moment of nudity ( reader takes her shirt off for a second ), reader wears jacks clothes
a/n: hai my lovelies!!! i've been working on this for so so so long. truly it's annoying how long this has been in my drafts now, but i figured it was time for it to see the light!! hope you like it <3 gift credits to @abbotstudy <3 credit to @cursed-carmine for the divider <3
wc: 9.4k
Today it took Jack Abbot two minutes to corner you by the lockers.
You didn't even turn when you heard the thudding of his boots on the floor. "Not even a glance my way. I'm hurt."
You turned slowly, a smile forming on your face. It was impossible not to smile when he was looking at you with the corners of his mouth quirked up.
"Hi Jack."
And it was like a caress to Jack's body and soul, after coming in hours too early and having been unable to sleep. He loved his name on your lips.
His name had always been so normal, so ordinary. Every other kid in town had been named Jack, even in middle school, he'd never felt special. The teacher resorted to calling him Abbot and the other kid Jack.
And so, ever since a kid, he's been Abbot. Everyone else got to be Jack, he had to be Abbot.
But you, you called him Jack.
He had always offered everyone to call him Jack, but no one ever did. But you were different. You had just started calling him Jack like he wanted you, the moment he asked. And it felt like he had been waiting all his life for it. Since the day he was a kid in a small room watching everyone refuse to call him and acknowledge him by his real name.
Jack took a seat on the bench behind your locker, resting his leg.
You turned and faced him with a suspicious look on your face. "How early did you come in today?" You barely hid the concern in your voice, but he saw the way your eyes flitted down to his outstretched leg. Proof that he'd been here too long, long enough for it to start hurting and need a break.
Jack looked up at you. "Early enough to get bored waiting for you."
And you shook your head, closed your locker with a frown. "Very funny," you mumbled as you reached for the hair tie on your wrist, tying your hair into a ponytail.
You barely even looked at Jack as he stared at you. He always did this. Stare at you, wait for you, complain about waiting for you, like he wasn't an attending with responsibilities. He treated you like a kid, or at least that's what you told yourself.
It was better to pretend that he was treating you like a child rather than to think that he might just be actually missing you.
"I missed you."
You stared at him. "Jack, it's too early for this."
His name again.
"Never too early for anything. You should know that by now. You work the night shift." He grinned happily at you, and you only shot him a bored look in response.
It was those five minutes in the morning when no one bothered to find Jack that he loved so much. Everyone knew where he was. Same time, same shift, Jack Abbot was always waiting for you at the lockers. Everyone knew to then look for Shen as the attending and not Jack. People grew accustomed to this strange routine.
Everyone knew Jack liked you. Hell, you even knew it and so did he. He made no secret of it at all.
You fixed your ponytail. "Seriously, what time did you come in?" Your eyebrows were furrowed in concern and the frown wasn't going away anytime soon.
He shot you a look, before his eyes darted away again. "You're stubborn, you know that?" He finally stood up, lightly towering over you as you continued to stare at him.
"Six pm? Five pm? Four?" You scrunched your nose, trying to gauge what time it was, and only at four did his lips twitch lightly.
"Jack!" you shook your head. "What was it this time?"
Jack stared at you, eyebrows lifting, as if you got the nagging out of your system yet? Because i'm not answering.
You sighed. "Great," you mumbled, your voice filled with disappointment, and Jack couldn't help the light pang in his chest at that.
You fixed any remaining loose hair around your face in the small locker mirror as Jack watched you, heart squeezing when he noticed the dark circles under your eyes. Here you were lecturing him about his sleep issues, when you just hid yours better. He knew you'd only deny it if he ever pointed it out.
So he just said something other than what was really lingering on his mind.
"Come on sweetheart. You look as pretty as ever." He placed his hand on your lower back, shutting the locker mirror and promptly ignoring your frown. "Don't want any more patients flirting with you," he muttered under his breath.
He didn't like how that was the thing to plant a smile on your face.
It wasn't until five hours into your shift that a lull hit. You were eating one of the muesli bars Jack had forced into your hands as he passed you by, with a pinched brow.
You typed with one hand while you stuffed your mouth with food with the other.
Crus dropped on a seat next to you, sighing loudly. You glanced, a smile forming upon seeing him. Quickly breaking off a piece of your muesli bar, careful to avoid the part where you'd taken a bite, you handed it it to the exhausted doctor, but then Jack swiped in.
"Uh, uh." He handed you the piece back. "Eat up."
You glared at him, taking the piece back from his hand, fighting the urge to insult him. You stuffed the piece in your mouth and swallowed. "Happy?"
"Delighted." Jack replied, the disappointment not having vanished from his voice yet.
Crus, meanwhile, was watching the two of you with a bored look. "Trying to stop your girl from being generous?"
Another glare was exuded from you, this time directed at the younger man. "Not his girl," you muttered under your breath, not loud for anyone but Jack to hear who was just close enough, as always.
You missed the way his smile faded for just a second, before he glanced at Crus. "There's a vending machine just around the corner."
"Did she get it from the vending machine?" Crus asked, pointing at you.
"No." Jack shrugged, already walking away from the two of you, spotting Nazely from a far, in need of dire help with a difficult patient.
Crus's stare lingered on you, and you turned your head, meeting his disappointed frown. "It's not my fault," you mumbled, around a bite.
Two hours later you were drenched in blood, trying to fix something you had no idea how to fix.
Shen was trying to help you out, and in your panic, you were completely missing the slightly helpless look in his eyes. Just a tiny shimmer of insecurity as he stared down at your position, how you were keeping the blood from spilling out.
You continued to press down. "Shen?" you squeaked, not bothering to hide the desperation for help anymore like you usually did, always keen on showing your competence.
And so Shen instructed you, if not insecurely, through it, eyes constantly darting up to the nurses to confirm every sentence that came out of his mouth.
In your worry, you didn't take note of Jack, missing the moment he walked in and took over Shen's position. You didn't realize your attending was standing there until he started speaking.
"More to the right," he instructed, and despite the clinical tone, Jack was never good at hiding the soft look in his eyes that he got whenever your eyes met his.
You startled, when you looked up and met hazel eyes instead of dark brown ones. You looked back over to the younger attending, and watched him move to the other side of the bed, helping one of the nurses instead of you.
Your eyes darted back to Jack and you watched Jack's eyebrows pinch together at the lack of urgency. Cautiously he said your name and that's when you shook your head, like you were waking up from a deep sleep.
Jack was unsure if the head shake was directed at yourself or him, but you turned back around and immediately got back to work, letting him guide you through every single step.
The rest went smoothly. Everything was fine. The patient was stable, and Shen gave you "a good job," a dunkin cup already in his hand to celebrate the win, to which you responded with a distracted smile.
You didn't look at Jack or acknowledge him, and he threw you a questioning look as he followed you out of the room.
Looking up at the screen to see which patient you could distract yourself with next, he followed, always one step behind you. Like always.
"You okay?"
"Yeah," you replied quietly, without one glance at him, and then you were off. Wandering in some room, which, with a look upwards, Jack realized was a simple nosebleed and a headache.
His brows drew together as he watched you greet the young kid with a smile. He looked away again, deciding not to mull over it too much. It wasn't your first time shutting down. You had a tendency of being quite shaky after a difficult case, even if it went well.
Jack rarely went home early. Too quiet, too lonely, too depressing.
But that had changed ever since he realized you took the bus. Now, he seemed to be incapable of going home late. So, he came in to work early, really early. Earlier than he used to before you moved to Pittsburgh, hoping that if he left early and came in early, that his conscience would leave him alone, let him live without the grating guilt in his chest for just one night.
He wandered to his locker, reaching for his bag and lifted it over his shoulder and waited and waited and waited. He wasn't sure how long he stood there, waiting for you.
It wasn't until Mel wandered in, startled by her attending leaning against the lockers, that he realized that you were taking concerningly long to finish up your work.
"Good morning Dr. Abbot," she smiled, polite as always.
He slowly shifted his gaze from the floor to the bright girl and nodded at her. "Morning," he greeted, fixing his bag at his shoulder, before remaining in his position.
"Uh—" Mel hesitated before Jack realized he was leaning against her locker. He'd never realized it was hers. He always left early enough with you to almost never see the newer day shift residents. "Thank you!" the blonde replied as he moved away, letting her finally start her work day.
Jack now hesitated, realization setting it as he noted that at least 15 minutes had passed of him standing here like some idiot. He turned, clearly intending on walking back into the ER when Mel hesitantly looked at him. She seemed like she was about to say something she knew she wasn't going to receive a good reaction.
And the moment she'd said your name, Mel had his full attention. He quickly turned around, hazel eyes meeting hers of the same color. "She's— she's out by the bus station. I saw her earlier."
And Jack walked out without another word, no goodbye, no nothing.
He should've listened to his gut feeling. He knew there had been something wrong. The look in your eyes — there had just been something different. Even as he had decades on you, he had no idea how to read you sometimes.
It didn't take him long to spot you, earphones in as your head leaned against the wall of the bus station.
Jack ambled over slowly. "Not up for company today?" he said, loud enough for you to hear him through your earphones.
You looked up, as if you'd expected him to be here. You plucked one earphone out, twirling it around your finger. "Yeah, I figured I'd go home early."
You looked back down at your earphones, purposely avoiding his eyes and he took note of it, never missing anything about you.
Jack walked over slowly, taking a seat next to you, not brushing up against you like he usually did. He sensed you weren't in the mood to be touched, especially not by him.
It was a cloudy morning, making it not as bright as a July day usually would be. The dark clouds seemed to form just above you as if they sensed your mood and were trying to replicate it.
You didn't bother setting the earphones back in your ears as if you knew that the attending wasn't leaving anytime soon.
"You okay?" he asked finally, deciding to just get it over with.
You hummed a small "yeah."
Jack leaned back, head hitting the cold wall behind him. He turned his head, his gaze landing on your profile. "Sweetheart."
You finally met his eyes. You had never been able to resist the sweet pet name anyway.
He leaned forward, plucking the second earphone out of your ear, before carefully rolling it the way he watched you do it all the time. He opened your bag, which was still sitting between you like a barrier, and positioned it so that the rest of your things didn't damage them.
He then grabbed your bag, lifting it over his free shoulder, before standing up and stretching out one hand. He wiggled his fingers when you waited for too long, but even that didn't help.
You continued to stare at him with vacant eyes, until you finally spoke.
"You shouldn't have done that earlier," you whispered as the wind blew through your hair, nipping at your nose.
Jack frowned, confusion in his eyes as he set your bag back down on the bench, realizing this was going to take a while.
He took a seat next to you. Again. "Done what?"
"Just—just taken over Shen. Shen's an attending too. He can show me stuff. It doesn't always have to be you." They were harsh words, yet there was nothing of it in your tone. You were speaking in a quiet tone, like you didn't mean the words, like they were a cover-up for something else. Some other sentiment you were clearly trying to hide from him.
Your eyes watched the light patter of the rain that started as soon as you said the first words.
Jack looked at your face, seeing the faraway look and tried to gauge what exactly this was about. He wasn't hurt by your words, more so perplexed. And concerned. You seemed confused, scared even, if he was reading the pursing of your lips right.
"Shen was struggling," he spoke deliberately, as if explaining something to a five-year-old child. "The guy barely knew what he was doing."
You looked up. "That's not true," you replied, almost petulant, sounding exactly like the five-year-old girl he was so mindfully speaking to.
"Yes, it is." He studied your face with careful thinned lips, careful not to convey any emotion but neutrality. "What's this really about?" Your eyes continued to track every movement of his, not being able to look away even as he tilted his face closer. "Come on. You can tell me, honey."
You finally removed your eyes. "No." you shook your head, still speaking in the same quiet voice as if you told yourself not to let any emotion show.
You brushed a hand over your face, trying to fix whatever sadness was about to expose you in the form of liquid from your pretty eyes.
How were you going to tell him that you couldn't handle it?
Couldn't handle the fact that he was everywhere. All the damn time. He was in your home when you were cooking, and you paused to think about whether Jack liked pasta. He was in your bed, when you were drowning in sorrow and self-doubt, and you'd hear his voice from the earlier shift, how he'd told you that you had done a good job, that you had nothing to worry about. He was there when you didn't know what to watch and looked for the channel he told you about during the one time the two of you left the ER to get coffee together.
Jack Abbot was everywhere and it was killing you.
You weren't capable of handling this. Crushes for you were overwhelming, sickening, and despite the seconds of bliss, it was nothing compared to the terrifying realization that Jack liked you the way you liked him, if not more.
You liked him, and he liked you too, and now what? Grown adults go on dates together, kiss, live together, and then get married.
The mundane cycle of life.
Nothing about it was mundane to you. To you, it was a roller-coaster, nothing rounding and repetitive about it.
It felt like you'd been plunging to a drop since the day Jack had driven you home and helped you fix a shelf in your room after pulling a double shift. You had stood in your apartment door, watching him get into the elevator with a smile, and then you'd stood there and stood and stood and realized that you were in love with Jack Abbot.
You didn't look at him as you spoke. "You should go home."
Jack stared at you, not exactly used to having you shut down this badly. There had been many instances where you'd fall apart, not look at him, not see him, but he always helped let go of it, adjust to it or cope with it. Usually with hands on your lower back that traveled up to the back of your head as soon as the first tear dropped, and you were sobbing into his chest. It had always been like this.
Jack felt his heart wrench. He wasn't sure what to do and he hated feeling this helpless. "Not doing that," he said, and he wasn't telling you what he expected from you, but you knew.
He wanted an explanation, otherwise he wasn't going anywhere.
"Jack please," you whispered, now finally meeting his hazel eyes. "I just—I need a minute."
Your eyes didn't have tears in them, but you knew it was just a question of sooner or later. Even Jack knew it.
"You can have a minute in my car. Up." He finally regained his attending voice, the authorial voice that usually helped you do everything flawlessly in the ER. He grabbed your bag and walked away.
Without another word you followed to his car and watched him open the passenger door, setting your bag in front of your seat. You took a seat on the warm plush, hating how the smell of it, the smell of him comforted you immediately, making the burn behind your eyes a bit easier.
You hated how he made you feel better. You hated there was someone out there who had this much control over what you felt without knowing that there was so much control.
You hated everything.
He got into the car and the rest of the drive was silent. Jack knew he had pressured you plenty and that you were in very well need of a break. He hated being cornered just as much as you did, so allowing you to sit there silence was the very least he could do.
When he arrived at your apartment, you stayed in the car, regret now flowing through your veins. Regret and humiliation. You felt ill as you closed your eyes and sensed his eyes boring into your profile, trying to figure out how he could find out what was wrong with you without grilling you again.
"I think I'm in love with you."
You knew Jack had never, with all of the thousand thoughts rushing through his mind, expected this, expected that to come out of your mouth. He froze, his hazel eyes which had been filled with worry now turning into surprise and then dread, realization hitting him as he realized the very reason you were this sad was because you had realized your love for him.
The rain continued to patter down on the car, as Jack stayed silent.
You had to tell him. This way, he would tell you that this wasn't going to work, that you had just been a distraction at work, someone young, someone pretty to talk to while he worked the worst job in the world. You were merely a tool to him. That's what you were about to hear, what you needed to hear.
"Yeah?" he asked quietly. He worried that if the words I'm in love with you too left his lips that you'd fall apart completely.
You were barely even holding on, fingers gripping your jeans as tight as you could, your nails on the edge of breaking.
"Mhm." you nodded, lips in a thin line, as you continued to stare out front.
"You think or you know, honey?" he asked quietly, this time asking for himself. The desperation, he usually hid so well, floated to the top, exposing how much he wanted to know if what you were saying was really true to you, that you meant it, that he hadn't been imagining it.
It took you a while, thoughtfulness entering your face replacing the deep troubled sadness for just a second before your lower lip trembled. "Know."
Jack let out an exhale, unable to hide the relief in it, pressing his head against the car seat.
Minutes of silence passed. Both of you watching the rain tapping on the car, the window obscuring the view of your apartment, drifting far away almost.
"You want me to say it?"
You shook your head. No, you didn't want him to tell you that he was in love with you too.
"Okay," he pressed his lips together, as if holding the words in. He took a look at you, your shaken state, how your knees were pointing in his direction, not the door, as if your body had decided that despite your mind fighting you, you didn't want to leave, leave him.
"I'm taking you to my place, that okay?" he asked quietly, fingers tapping lightly on the steering wheel.
You turned your head to your window, lips quivering as you thought about the grave mistake you were making, before letting out a small "Okay."
The drive was just as silent as before, though Jack was sure that the tears were now finally streaming down your face, though you kept your face away from his view until he arrived at his house. Parking the car, he made sure to avoid looking at you until you stopped sniffling.
He quickly got out, rounding the car until he was next to your door, opening it for you like the gentleman he tried so hard to be for you.
You grabbed your bag, still keeping your eyes on the ground, but when you stood up, Jack couldn't grant you the privacy he had earlier, anymore. He needed to show you that he cared and that he was here for you no matter what happened.
Carefully raising his hands, so slowly that you had time to pull back, his thumb gently stroked the wet skin under your eye. Just as gently, he did it on the other side too, and then he let his hand wander to the back of your hair, brushing it softly away from your face, before tilting his head downwards to catch your eyes.
Your red rimmed eyes finally met his, now with the cloudy weather, brown ones. You preferred them more when they were hazel and almost green. Now they just looked as pained as yours.
"We'll figure it out," he whispered as gently as possible, fingertips brushing one more time across your soft cheek.
You didn't nod or speak, or show any signs of agreement, but Jack still decided to take your silence as a yes. He reached for your bag and lifted it upon his free shoulder, before reaching for your hand.
Reaching out just like he had earlier, but the teasing was gone, no wiggling fingers, no smile, no nothing.
It was almost comical how tightly you gripped his hand, as if you needed something to hold on to because everything else was slipping away.
The two of you remained silent as you followed Jack to the entrance of his house, letting him pull you towards the charming residence, trying to ignore how small he made your hand feel in his, and how warm.
The rain didn't even feel like it was touching your skin, all you felt was the scorching heat of Jack's hand engulfing yours and for a moment you wished this would be the only thing you'd ever feel for the rest of your life.
He somehow managed to continue brushing his thumb over your cold knuckles, in what he hoped was a comforting gesture, as he opened the door.
Inside it was dark, and Jack was quick to turn on the lights, somewhere in the back of his mind, remembering that you'd once mentioned being scared of the dark when you were a kid.
He hung his bag up, taking yours from your hand without asking, before hanging it up next to his. The two of you silently stared at the bags next to each other just long enough that it was a moment, a thing, an unspoken thing nonetheless.
It came to no surprise to both of you that you were the one to interrupt the moment, quickly taking off your shoes, this time deliberately not glancing down, not wanting to acknowledge how they looked next to his.
He, still silent, walked into the living room, before turning a corner, listening to your socked feet on the floor, quickly following him into the kitchen.
Quick to turn on all the lights, he opened the fridge, and you watched him take out all the things you liked, and you let out an incredulous puff of air, making him turn around immediately.
"What?" he said, unable to resist the smile that formed on his face, upon seeing something other than grief in your face.
"How do you—just— remember everything?" you asked in disbelief.
"Doubting my intelligence right after confessing your love to me oof." He pressed a hand to his chest, grinning from ear to ear. "That hurts sweetheart."
You shot him a look, swatting at his bicep with your palm, but not quite letting go as you took a peek into his fridge.
Jack felt himself get warm by the way your hand was still wrapped around his bicep, not letting go. His eyes wandered from your hands to your profile, observing the way your nose scrunched up as you came to a conclusion you didn't like. His heart squeezed with joy when he took notice of the spark in your still red-rimmed eyes returning, the one that said you were about to insult him in your usual lighthearted way.
"No chocolate, no sweets, nothing unhealthy." You looked up at him, dropping your hand from his bicep with a startle before getting a hold of yourself again. "You have a boring fridge, Jack."
"I'll get you chocolate, don't you worry about that." He shook his head, incredulous over the fact that this was your first proper sentence in the last thirty minutes.
You didn't reply to that, and he realized too late what he had implicated. He took a look at your face and, just as he had feared, you'd shut down again, brutally reminded of what had occurred in the last few minutes.
He turned around, grabbed what he needed to make a sandwich and started cutting. "Sit," he mumbled and decided not to comment on your sorrow, nodding towards the counter next to him. You complied without another word.
You watched his hands cut the bread the way you liked it. Small pieces to make it seem bigger.
A habit from when you were a child and your mom would hand you chocolate. You would always end up tearing all the pieces apart, so you felt like you had twelve pieces instead of one block. A mind trick was what you used to tell your friends.
And, now here you were, grown and an adult watching Jack Abbot do the thing you haven't done in years, for you. Simply because you had mentioned it once. Once, during a shift, you didn't remember.
Your eyes flickered up to his face. His gray hair was as pretty as ever, had always been one of your favorite things about him, curling over his forehead, and you could see the red-brown peeking through. He looked tired, lips lightly curling downward, which usually meant he was tired.
But he never rested. He always needed to be in action doing things. Like right now.
You were probably just another thing on the list. The girl he distracted himself with during lulls in the shift, the girl he talked to in the car, so he wouldn't have to drive home alone with his thoughts, the girl he invited over, so his apartment felt less quiet.
You were a tool to keep his thoughts far away.
Glancing down at your hands, you finally noticed that you had been picking at your nails the entire time. Bad habit that you still couldn't seem to get rid of. The only growing up, the only bad habit you've overcome, was apparently not cutting your sandwich into small pieces anymore.
Feeling a prickle of pain at the top of your head, you reached your hand up, swiftly slipping the hair tie out of your hair, releasing a cascade of softness around your shoulders. You didn't notice the way Jack halted the knife to watch you. He watched you ruffle your hair with a relieved sigh, and his eyes followed every movement until they locked with yours.
You stared back, and your nose scrunched in light embarrassment.
"You're a pretty girl." He gave you a smile, embarrassed for being caught staring. Shaking his head, he looked back down at his knife. "And yet you're here making yourself sad over some old guy."
It wasn't self-pity, even if you knew that. It was a statement, even a complaint, if you thought about it for too long.
To him, you were too young, too pretty, too kind, to destroy yourself over something as simple and boring as him.
You glanced up at him noting the way he was cutting up the bread slower, clearly waiting for your reply. Maybe it wasn't all not self-pity. Maybe some insecurity did linger there.
"I think you're pretty nice for an old guy," you mumbled, swinging your legs until they hit the wood below you, and you suppressed a groan of pain.
He chuckled, not having missed what you had just done, and glanced up at you, mouth curved upwards, before looking away again.
This was domestic. Too domestic even.
It made you feel nauseous, and you gazed down at his hands, tracking the way he was carefully fixing your sandwich with ingredients you liked. You brushed a hand over your eyebrow, fingertips rubbing hard into your eyes until stars were bursting hard, replacing jack temporarily.
You wished they could replace Jack forever.
He paused his knife on the counter, setting it aside, before stepping in between your knees and removed your hands from your face.
"Not that nice after all, huh?" he asked quietly, heart breaking when your eyes met his. It seemed, that tonight, the sadness wasn't going away anytime soon.
You didn't have the strength to muster up a weak smile. Too tired and too sad as you met his hazel eyes, the eyes that knew you too well and that saw too much. You looked down at the way his fingers were still lightly curled around your wrist. His hand fit so well around yours, the perfect temperature, the perfect size to calm you down.
"Crap." you finally whimpered, and you dropped your head forwards, letting yourself fall right into the crook of his neck. Jack, without another word, let his hand lift to the back of your head, fingers curling into your soft hair as he brushed gently through it.
Jack knew you. It was as simple as that.
He knew you were scared. He'd seen your expression when you came to work one day. You had been scared of something and he saw it. He saw the way your fingers would twitch on the counter, desperately wanting to touch him, and when he let his fingers brush up against yours, you'd stay for five seconds before taking it back abruptly, like you had been electrocuted, like it had been a mistake.
Eventually he just knew. You were in love with him and you were scared.
His other hand came up to brush against your back, rubbing your shirt gently, bunching it up, lifting it until he was able to rest his hand on your bare waist, hoping the heat of his fingers would finally warm your freezing skin up.
You pressed your face further into his neck, though your hands remained on your sides. You were craving him, but fear still lingered.
It lingered in every part of your body. In your hands, where it wouldn't let you reach for him the way you wanted to. In your chest, where it wouldn't let you press up against him fully. In your heart, where it wouldn't let him in.
Jack didn't even have the strength to think about how soft you were in his arms, how much he had craved to touch you. You were too cold for it all.
He pressed his palm harder to your naked lower back, hoping that if his entire palm was pressed up against your spine, that maybe, just maybe he wouldn't feel like he was touching ice.
"Let's get you into some warm clothes," he mumbled, not yet removing himself from your hold, waiting for your cue.
You pressed your face further into his neck, turning your head, so your cheek was on his shoulder now, gazing towards the side of his kitchen where his empty fridge was. "Don't think I should stay," you mumbled quietly.
"Too late. You're here now," he replied, now deciding that it was the right moment to pull back before you did, completely.
His hands drifted to your hips, helping you off the counter, and then he grabbed the sandwich and set it on a plate. "Eat."
And then he wandered away to his room, hoping that he'd find something warm enough for you. It seemed like right now there was nothing warm enough. Not even he was warm enough for you. Looking through his closet, he managed to find one of the few long-sleeved shirts he had.
Everything else was clothes for work. He didn't have much interest in buying things for himself. He didn't like to think about why, that he didn't deem it necessary, that he didn't want his home to pile up with things, in case one day he didn't come home.
His hand tightened around the fabric, tearing it off the hanger before he trudged back into the kitchen, heart squeezing at the sight of you pressing what seemed to be the third piece into your mouth as you stared into nothing.
"Here. This will keep you warm." Jack held out the long-sleeved shirt, and you raised an eyebrow, taking another piece of the sandwich.
"That's big," you mumbled around a bite.
He huffed. "Well, yeah sweetheart, it's mine."
You shot him a look, not appreciating the condescending tone, but he just shot you a grin and you shook your head. "Hand's greasy." you mumbled.
You turned your back to him and he quickly got the idea.
Carefully setting his shirt on the counter, he reached for the fabric of yours. You raised your arms and let him help you out of the soft pink cotton. He didn't dare glance anywhere, keeping his eyes locked on his own black shirt. If you were okay, right now, with being vulnerable, he wasn't going to take advantage of it, even if he had a feeling you wanted to.
He helped you into the shirt, his eyes still not lingering anywhere inappropriate, and let it swallow you whole.
When you turned, he carefully extricated your hair from your collar, letting it drape over your back, while you continued to watch him with lifeless eyes. Or you would have liked to be looking at him with lifeless eyes. In reality, you were torn. You knew you were being weird. Pulling away, but then reaching for him again.
You realized, with a startle, how awful you were being, how mean, how selfish. You looked at your plate, seeing the small bites and then wordlessly turned to the sink, washing your hands off the grease, washing them off of anything that was Jack.
You needed to get out of here.
When you turned, the apology was ready. "I'm sorry." you shook your head, toying with the edge of the sleeve of his shirt. "I—I'm being a lot right now." you said quietly. "And I—"
But Jack was already shaking his head, reaching for your hands and pulling you towards him, right into his chest.
"Hey, none of that." he mumbled, fingers reaching up to brush your hair out of your face, while his other hand remained around your waist, keeping you close to him. "You're not being a lot. And I want you here."
He shot you an almost disappointed look for thinking the opposite and then brushed a thumb under your eye as if making sure you didn't cry while he had been grabbing the shirt. You didn't.
"But—as difficult as this is— we need to talk." He continued on quietly, in the same low voice, and he felt you freeze up under his hand. As if it was a surprise to you, like you hadn't known the moment the words I'm in love with you had stumbled out of your mouth, that the two of you needed to talk.
His palm remained on your cheek as he waited for any sort of compliance or agreement and it took a while. Your eyes bore into his shirt as you stood there silently, before turning your head, eyes glancing back at the plate, sorrow clouding your features again.
"Hey." Jack used a small amount of strength to pull your face back to him, tapping his index finger against your skin. "I'm serious," he added quietly, and for a second he thought about saying it, saying the words plain out loud that he was in love with you more than you'd think, but you were like a deer, and he was terrified that at the smallest sound of affection you'd run away.
"I know you are," you mumbled, and he had to suppress a smile at your petulant sound.
"Okay then," he replied, trying to sound cheery. "I'd like to take you out on a date."
Your face fell completely, the color draining out of it and Jack realized this was going to be much harder than he expected.
Not in the way you feared it to be, no.
He had no problem convincing you of his love for you. The hard part was having to watch you be this much in pain. The only reason, the only doubt lingering in the back of his mind, was that he wasn't sure he could watch you go through so many cycles of sadness because of him. It made him feel selfish, made him think that maybe he was doing this for himself, to not be so lonely.
But with one look at your pretty face, he knew it wasn't true. He wanted you. When he looked at you, he didn't think about the ways his house might sound less empty, and his thoughts less frigthening.
He just wanted you in his house. He just wanted you around. He just wanted you.
"Need a response, pretty girl," he said quietly, tilting your head to catch your eyes, and you graciously let him. Your pretty eyes lifted to meet his.
He brushed a thumb over your cheek, encouraging you for a response and it worked. "Where?" you whispered.
And he smiled softly, knowing in the back of his mind to not take it as encouragement, you were still too hesitant. "A real expensive restaurant, that has all the sorts and types of pasta you like." He smiled softly, tilting your head up just for a fraction, so your eyes met his properly, so that he was your entire view. "Even has tiramisu."
Your lips twitched. "When?"
Going through W-questions, he realized. "Whenever you want," he twirled a hair strand around his finger, now realizing again that he was touching you. Really touching you and you seemed to like it.
He brushed with the pad of his thumb over your hair. Soft. He had expected it to feel like this. His hand on your waist wandered under your shirt, under the pretense that he was checking your temperature, but he knew he was lying to himself. He just wanted to touch you.
You seemed to be warmer than before, not yet warm, but not as cold as before.
You nodded slowly and on you went to the last W-question. "Why?"
Jack squeezed your waist gently. "Because I like you." A frown formed on your face and Jack knew why. Tapping his index finger against your temple, he added in a quiet voice. "Don't think you're ready to hear it yet."
The form turned into the expression of someone who knew they'd been caught. You wanted to hear the same words you'd uttered in the car earlier, but Jack knew you better. The confession would make you feel better temporarily before the fear caught up with you and you would crumble. And despite how the word pushed against the tip of his tongue, how his heart seemed to be bursting at the seams, wanting to just say the words and have you finally acknowledge them, he knew the disaster would be much worse.
You hummed, the only way you'd agree, before shuffling your feet on the floor, and he knew you wanted to get closer without actually making the first step. So he pressed his hand firmer into your waist, pulling you in, until your forehead hit his chest and then your cheek. You tilted your head until your cheek laid against his racing heartbeat. He felt your exhale against his body, and your fingers curling into fists at your sides, desperate not to cling onto him, and he let you have that last piece of resistance.
His chin rested against the top of your head as he brushed a hand over your back.
"What are you scared of honey? Hmm?" he mumbled, letting his lips linger in your hair even as you burrowed closer, trying to hide from both the question and the answer. "I'm not going to hurt you," he whispered, deciding to just lay it out in the open. If you weren't going to talk he would.
"Can't know that." you muffled against his chest.
"Yeah, I can," he replied, pressing you closer as if to prove it.
"No, you can't," you mumbled, trying not to take too much pleasure in the way his fingers were untangling the knots in your hair.
He sighed, lifting his head to stare up at the ceiling as if praying for the universe to finally make you listen to him for once in your life.
You leaned back, eyes lifting to his face. "You're annoyed," you stated, trying your best to disguise the hurt that was trying to creep into your voice.
"Thought you knew me better than that," he mumbled, fingers drifting to the waistband of your pants, letting it snap against your hip, and you let out a small "Ouch Jack!" before he shot you a grin. "Not annoyed," he finally said. "Just unsure how to make you believe me."
"I won't," you stared at him, as if it was silly that he thought that you would in the first place.
"Why?" and finally he got tired, tired of standing for this long. He dropped his hands, reaching out to grip yours instead and lead you to the bedroom.
"Because—there's no guarantee that you won't hurt me. You can't know. It's all empty promises." You hesitated at the bedroom door, but then curiosity took over as you stepped in.
Jack didn't plan on asking you to stay over in his bed, because he knew your response would be no. He pushed the covers away, ushering you into the bed, and you sat there silently, before mumbling something about not wanting to sleep in jeans, trying to ignore the fact that he still hadn't replied yet.
He reached for some boxers in his closet, handing them to you, and you walked into the adjoining bathroom.
"It might seem like empty promises to you," you heard through the door as you carefully folded the jeans. "But they won't be," he added, trying to put as much care into his words as possible.
He knew it was more than important to watch his words now. Everything could be too much or not enough for you right now, and he wanted to be neither.
You came out of the bathroom, standing in front of him like a wet puppy, drowning in his clothes. "Jack—" you whispered, and he smiled sadly, already aware of what you were going to say.
He knew you like the back of his hand, and you wished oh so desperately that he didn't.
You didn't fish the sentence. It doesn't matter what you say, I won't believe you.
"Get into bed," he ordered quietly.
You followed without a word as he guided you onto the soft mattress with a hand on your back, and settled against the headboard.
"Scoot over ,pretty," he added, and you did until you were in the middle of the bed, watching him join you, settling against the headboard, but not without bending down and getting rid of the prosthetic. He settled the metal against the bed, before letting out a sigh of relief, finally resting against the headboard.
"Were you in pain the entire time?" you asked, startled over the fact that his face had taken on a relieved expression.
"No," he lied, and he felt the stiffness in your body at the response.
You knew he was lying.
Maybe you were able to read him better than he thought. At least when your insecurities weren't clouding your judgment.
You pressed your lips into a thin line, clearly not fond of what he had done.
Setting his pain aside to take care of yours.
He always did this, and he wasn't sure how to fix it either. He just worked like that. Fixing other people's pain was easier than fixing his.
His arm stretched out until it was behind your waist, and then he drew you in slowly. He was relieved to hear no protest from you, no push back, no nothing. Just like in the kitchen, you wanted him to touch you, you just didn't want to be the one reaching out. He pulled you in until you were right under his arm, having no choice but to rest your hand on his chest.
"I can't promise you I won't make any mistakes ever," he mumbled against the top of your head. "But I can swear that I'll try not to."
Your fingers bunched his shirt under your fingers, and you lifted your head to look into his eyes, his pretty hazel earnest eyes. You stared and stared and then smiled weakly.
"I know," you whispered and squeezed your eyes shut, and then you decided.
This was as bad as it would get.
You could see in his eyes how desperately he wanted you, and the panic coursed through your veins, making you squirm in his arms for a second. But you knew it would be there nonetheless, whether he would be in the ER far away, or here, promising to always take care of you.
So why not just tell him? It wouldn't get any scarier or easier.
You sat up slowly, and then, before Jack knew it, you were settled in his lap. It startled him, you could see it in the way his eyes widened before keeping his composure, clearly trying not to showcase too much happiness, to not scare you off that he was taking this moment as something.
"I like you—I like you a lot," you said quietly, and Jack's heart squeezed once again upon hearing the words. He could hear them again and again and never get sick of them. "But—this is scary for me," you whispered. "I don't want to get hurt, and you can't promise me you won't. There's always going to be some way for you to accidentally hurt me or do something I wont like. And there are so many easy ways to hurt me, Jack," you whispered. "And I leave. When I get hurt, I leave. And I don't want to leave you."
Ah.
Jack was at a loss of words. He hadn't expected that to be the answer to everything. That you were so scared of being hurt that your real fear was that you would be led to do something irrational, something that would hurt you even more in return than the initial thing.
"I like being with you," you mumbled quietly. "And I know myself. I know that if I ever get scared, that I'll leave, and I won't come back."
One tear managed to escape and Jack brushed it away with his thumb, before letting his hands go back to your hips, his boxers.
"And I'm not easy to deal with," you let out a small laugh. "Obviously," you gestured at the two of you. "I'm an exhausting person to be around and no one wants to be around someone they're constantly worried about hurting." You were now toying with the fabric of his shirt, toying with a loose strand.
Jack watched your fingers, before slowly taking your hand in his. "I want to." he replied in the same quiet voice. "I want to be around you."
Your eyelashes fluttered at that, as if exposing the very thing you were trying to cover up with your words. "But I leave. I'm someone who leaves," You whispered. "And you—you try so hard to not be alone, and I'm going to—I'm going to be the reason you'll be alone." Another tear escaped and Jack was devastated at the sight of it.
You were worried about him?
He would take every ounce of loneliness and heartbreak just at the idea of being able to have you in his arms. Even if it was one night, even if it was just tonight.
"You don't have to worry about me, sweetheart," he mumbled, sitting up straighter, mindful of the way you were in his lap. He wanted to face you properly even if the cost of that was the sight of your glistening eyes.
"Can't help it. You make it hard not to," you replied quietly, biting your lip, suppressing the shakiness of it all.
And you were right. He had made it hard on you. He got shot at in his free time, he went to the roof at least once a month, and he didn't sleep and worked too much. How could you not worry about him?
He felt the guilt flash across his face, and his mouth set in a hard line, realizing the weight you'd been carrying all because of him.
"I didn't mean—I didn't mean to make you feel bad. This isn't—" you pressed a palm over your mouth, trying to gather the words. "Jack, this just—this won't work." You finally hitched out under more tears, and both hands were now clinging onto him, gripping his shirt under your fingers.
"We haven't even tried," he replied breathless, worried he was losing you, worried he was ruining something that he was trying to fix.
"We shouldn't." You shook your head as if to confirm again that you were right about this.
"I want to," he finally said, hoping that maybe if he was selfish you'd let him.
"You shouldn't," you replied, even more sad.
It was getting tiring to watch the heartbreak unfold in your face all because of him. It had always been so important to him to protect you, to protect you from horrible patients, nasty attendings and hurtful comments.
Yet here he was.
"Sorry to disappoint sweetheart," he whispered, brushing a hand over your thigh, his thumb halting on a scar there, brushing over it gently.
Your eyes snapped down to the scar, watching him touch the scar tenderly and your eyes hung on the way his eyebrows furrowed as if he was experiencing the moment when you received the scar. It had just been a small fall of a skateboard when you were ten, trying to be like the cool girls on TV. No big deal, yet Jack touched it like it happened recently.
You watched the way his curls fell over his forehead, how tired he looked, but how the determination just wouldn't leave his face. He wasn't letting this go anytime soon.
"Jack," you whispered. "I'm serious."
He looked up, and he looked prettier than he had ever before, and you almost came to regret the decision you were making until he spoke. "I'm in love with you."
He brushed a hand over your scar, and you shivered, both at the tender touch and the words. You hated how your heart fluttered, how you wanted to just fall into his arms and never leave his lap again. But this was all scary. Terrifying, you felt nauseous as the words bounced around in your head. I'm in love with you.
Jack Abbot was in love with you.
"And I want to try," he said quietly. "And if I hurt you— if you leave— I'll be here. I'll wait for you."
Your eyes flickered across his face, as if it was some joke. The nausea tripled as you stared at him. You weren't sure how he'd found the exact words you'd looked for all your life, the words that managed to balm the wound that was so deep-rooted in your soul, you knew it was never going to be fixed. And you knew that if you got up from his lap, the bubble would burst. The words wouldn't seem as comforting as they did now. But still, you couldn't resist.
"What if I never come back?" you whispered, worried that this would make him take his words back completely, tell you some excuse about how he'll wait for a month or two.
"Then I'll just love you from afar," he replied, his hazel eyes meeting yours. "And I'll keep waiting."
Jack had hope that you'd come back. He knew you'd leave. He knew he wasn't perfect. He knew he'd hurt you. He was someone who hurt by trying to do the exact opposite.
But he knew you'd come back. He just knew.
And maybe you knew too, sensed that your soul would always be tethered to his in some way, that some invisible string would always pull you back to Jack Abbot.
"Okay," you whispered, and you let yourself fall into his arms and into the dark abyss you had always been so scared of.
You hoped it was as warm and comforting as Jack's arms were.
Dinner with the Cody’s and playing footsy with Andrew under the table (you are NOT together) and he’s confused and has those big pleading eyes and pressed tight lips because he thinks you’re touching the wrong brother (maybe Craig is right next to him idk let’s not think too hard about table placement) even tho he likes you and wants you SO bad he wants you SOOOOO bad :(
and he’s trying to move his leg out of your way but you just chase him with your toes with a big smile on your face, looking right at him.
And his mind is racing because WHY would you be touching HIM! Why are you smiling all pretty with big soft eyes at HIM! Why does it seem like your foot reaches higher and higher up his leg ???? And oh no he’s kinda hard and he gets all clammy idk
He just abruptly gets up from the table and declares that he’s done!!!! (done eating) and he goes to his room where he can sit straight up on his bed with his hands nervously flexing at his sides and his dick painfully hard
when you sneak away you find him all squirmy and nervous and you lock the door behind and you ask him why he left and he’s like “did you know you were touching me?”
and you’re like yeahhhhhhh duhhh???? You’ve been flirting with him for weeks??? You thought he would like it??? But you’re so sorry if it made him uncomfy :(
but he’s just baffled (and still hard) that it was HIM that you were PURPOSEFULLY flirting with and he asks again why???? And you’re like ??? Cause you’re hot and always polite and not like. A rabid horny animal like his brothers????
but he kinda feels like a horny animal with the way you got him all hot and bothered and unable to even sit at a dinner table…………
but also he definitely cannot and DOES NOT WANT to say no when you sit on his bed and offer to FINALLYYYY give him a little relief :)
IDK???!))!!!!! Andrew being flustered when flirted with and confused about being wanted but also wanting it soooooooo bad :)
waitt thinking about baby daddy pope coming home all stressed idk bc of work like boxing… and deciding to have a spa day with him and the baby!! wanna make him feel all relaxed:)))
omg so cutie
the front door to your home opened and slammed shut, both you and your daughter jumping where you sat on the couch. your head turned quickly to see pope coming in, a small frown on your lips at the fresh bruise on his eye and busted lip. "hi baby," you spoke softly as you stood to stand as he entered the living room, quickly making your way to him to wrap your arms around him. he stood still, letting you squeeze him tightly. you could feel the energy radiating off of him, an irritated one. your daughter was quick to start whining for him, her stubby arms raised in his direction. he moved slowly, picking the little girl up with a small grunt to hold her close. you watched silently as he rubbed her back, pressing a soft kiss to the side of her head. "there's food in the kitchen," you spoke softly, a small smile on your lips as you looked over at him. he sighed, setting your daughter back on the couch before turning to look at you. "i'm not hungry," he spoke bluntly, a hand running up to his sweaty and greasy curls. a small pout formed on your lips, reaching forward to grab his hand.
you could see the way his shoulders untended a little, starting to calm from your touch. "you have to eat, andy. eat and then go shower, yeah?" you spoke as you kissed his bruised and cracked knuckles, his thumb rubbing your bottom lip gently as he stared down at you with that same blank stare. he hesitated from a moment, just rubbing your cheek before he was nodding and pulling back. you watched as he made his way to the kitchen, the sound of him shuffling around making you smile a little. days like this were always rough. he had a boxing match earlier and it obviously did not go well from the sight of his mood. he would come home, eat, then pout the rest of the night.
once he had finished eating, he made his way up the steps, stomping slightly which only caused you to giggle a little at his grumpy self before he was disappearing in your bathroom to shower. you were quick to scoop your daughter up and carry her up to your bedroom, laying her on the bed. you dug through your closet before pulling out the little matching robe you had with her, changing into it before changing her into it. "gonna give daddy a spa treatment," you cooed to her, blowing raspberries on her cheek as she squealed. "stay right here," you hummed, tucking her into the bed before making your way to the bathroom when you heard the water shut off.
you slowly pushed the bathroom door open, steam rolling out as you watched pope dry himself off. "you okay, andy?" you spoke gently, moving in to hug him from behind as he stared at himself in the mirror with a scowl. "no. i lost," he mumbled, a sigh leaving his lips as he looked at you in the mirror. your hands rubbed his damp stomach gently, lips peppering his freckled back in small kisses. "what are you wearing?" he asked with a raised eyebrow at the robe you had on. you couldn't help but giggle, grabbing his robe that was hanging up and shoving it in his arms. "change and come in the bedroom," you spoke, pressing a quick kiss to his lips before you were scurrying off back to the bedroom.
all the face masks, hair masks, skincare tools you had were all laid out on your nightstand. you had some antibiotics and band aids as well to help fix him up. you smiled widely as he came in the bedroom in the robe, a smile finally forming on his lips. "well don't you two look cute. what's all this?" he spoke softly as he came in, laying on his stomach on the bed to tickle your daughter. your giggle matched hers as you watched, reaching to grab your hairbrush and curl spray before climbing on the bed. "we are giving daddy a spa day, aren't we?" you cooed to your daughter, leaning to press a kiss to pope's head. you patted your lap, pope rolling onto his back with your head in his lap while he pulled his daughter to sit on his stomach.
he went on and on about the fight, everything he did wrong, everything he could have done better. all you could do was nod and listen, not wanting to upset him or anger him by saying the wrong thing. you just continued to brush his hair, your daughter now laying with her head pressed to his chest as he talked. once you had finished, you grabbed the antibiotic, putting some on the small cuts he had before you were grabbing the sheet mask. you didn't even realize your daughter was asleep on his chest, his large hand rubbing her tiny back. "i'm sorry for being grumpy," he spoke quietly as he looked up at your from your lap, puckering his lips up for a kiss. a smile spread across your lips, leaning down to give him a sweet kiss before pulling back to open the mask. "don't apologize. will always be here to take care of you when you're grumpy," you hummed, slowly laying the mask on his face.
he only sighed in content, watching your put one on yourself before you were leaning back against the pillows you had propped up on the headboard. it was so quiet besides the tv playing some reality show he usually got sucked into watching with you. your fingers were scratching his scalp gently, his eyes getting so heavy. only 10 minutes went by before you were leaning down to check on him, a soft snore leaving his lips. you couldn't help but chuckle a little, gently pulling the mask off his face as well as yours.
there's nothing he loved more than a spa day with his two girls.
Would pope think that readers hip dips are like made for his hands like his hands mould just right there? God I love this man
YES YES YES
your hip dips were one of your biggest insecurities. the small dents drove you away from anything that hugged them too tight or showed them off too much. was the same reason you always wore a cover up when you weren't hiding in the water. your hips were already wide enough as is, the dips showing more than usual. pope loved them though. his hands were constantly resting right on them, rubbing them gently. he loved to stare when you got undressed, lips always pressing to each side of your hips whenever he was close enough.
he was swimming in the pool, playing basketball with his brothers while you laid on a chair, book in your hands. you enjoyed swimming, of course. not when everyone else was around though. "you gonna get in?" pope spoke, snapping you out of your trance as he swam up to the edge of the pool, arms resting on the concrete as he stared at you. you lowered the glasses on your nose, an eyebrow raised slightly at him. "i'm comfy here," you mumbled, pushing your glasses back up before your nose was stuck back into your book. it frustrated him that you had insecurities. you were absolutely perfect in his eyes.
it was like the sun went away, a shadow being casted over you. you looked up to see pope now stood over you, wet hair flat against his head as water dripped from his body. "you didn't come to read. you came to swim or else you wouldn't have wore a bathing suit," he spoke, his eyebrows furrowed together in slight frustration. you sighed, bookmarking your spot before a hand was reaching to hold his. "i don't want to swim right now. you guys are too rowdy," you teased, bringing his wet hand to your lips to press kisses to it. he stared at you like he didn't believe you, moving to sit at the end of your chair. "you're lying," he said bluntly, hands moving to rub at your thighs, sleeping underneath the cover up.
you couldn't help but sigh a little, pushing your sunglasses on top of your head. "i just don't want to be so... exposed," you shrugged a little, moving your book away so he wouldn't drip water on it. his eyebrows only knitted tighter together, his hands now moving to attempt to take your cover up off. "stop doing that. i want you to be exposed. i want you to swim with me," he grunted, pushing you to make you stand in front of him. how could you fight with him when he looked so cute? you relented, letting him push the coverup off of you so you were now stood in your suit. a blush covered your cheeks as his hands immediately went to your hips, thumb rubbing over the dips.
"so perfect," he hummed, pulling you to stand between his legs as he began to pepper kisses all over your stomach before moving to your hips. his hands held tightly onto to your hip dips, a smile on his face as he looked back up at you. "it's like you were made for me. look, my hands fit perfect," he spoke quietly, a small giggle leaving your lips as he continued to press kisses to your stomach. he was full on massaging your hips now, obsessed with the feeling of your skin against his hands. "alright enough, let's swim," you mumbled, pushing him back a little. he had a satisfied smirk on his lips as he moved to stand now, leaning down before he was throwing you over his shoulder and jumping into the pool.
TITUS DANFORTH PEACOCKING FOR READER PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE I LOVE UR WORK PLEASE I LOVE U
im so obsessed with this asshole
the moment titus laid his eyes on you, he knew he had to have you. you dressed to the nines, hair and nails were always done, and you always carried a room whenever you entered. your family was new to the organization, and from the first meeting he knew you were going to be his. except you weren't easily impressed. you were used to getting whatever you wanted, whenever you wanted. he had never even spoke to you, never got the chance. at any party you were always surrounded by men, throwing compliments and praises at you constantly. he could tell the smile you were putting on was fake, that you weren't impressed. he would catch your eye too every now and then, the both of you just staring across the room before either one of you would be dragged into conversation.
the evening was in full swing at the danforth estate, the richest of families and people gathered in the building. he knew you and your family would be there, your father was never one to turn down an invitation. he was stood in the corner, a perfect view of the door. this was his night to strike. and just like clock work, your family came waltzing in, your mother and father being swept quickly into conversation. you spotted titus immediately, your eyes looking him up and down slowly as he did the same to you. you shot him a smile, his stone cold look not changing as he immediately saw men making their way up to you. an hour had passed of that, titus watching as men continued to throw themselves at you in an attempt to court you. he couldn't take it any longer.
he slowly began to creep over, a drink in both hands as he stood behind one of the men who was gloating to you about some business deal his family was looking to get in on. all the men went silent at titus' snickering from behind, all turning to look at him. "something funny, danforth?" the man hissed, titus passing one of the drinks to you. you couldn't help the smirk that tugged at the corner of your lips, taking a small sip as you looked between the men. "i find it funny that you think she gives a single shit about what you're saying," titus shrugged, taking a drink as he stared at you from over his glass, eyes never leaving you. the giggle that left your lips had the other man's cheeks burning, eyebrows furrowing together. "you think your family is better than mine?" the guy spat, titus' eyebrow raising as he turned to look at him.
"i don't think that. i know that my family is better than yours and i know she doesn't want you," titus spat right back, nodding his head towards you, his chest poking out a little bit with pride. the man let out a scoff, looking between the two of you as titus stood to stand beside you. "you think she wants you? you're almost two decades older than her," the man laughed, titus' face turning stern before he was looking over at you. he could see the way you were staring at him, a hint of lust that he could practically smell as you eyed him up. "i know she does. besides, you wouldn't know what to do with all this," titus smirked, his finger reaching to rub gently across the diamond strap of your dress that laid over your shoulder. the men all stared at you in disbelief, waiting for you to shoo titus away but it never came. "you can all go," you spoke finally, your eyes never leaving titus as you fully turned to face him now.
the murmurs between all of them fell on deaf ears as they scurried away, you and titus just stood staring at each other. "what makes you think i want you?" you hummed, manicured fingernail tapping against the glass you held as you cocked an eyebrow at him. he couldn't help but chuckle, pushing a piece of your hair back that had fallen. "because you avoid me. i could give you the world," he spoke lowly, his finger dragging against your dress strap again. his words caused goosebumps to spread all over your skin, a dark smirk on his face at the sight of your skin. your hand immediately wrapped around his wrist, holding it tightly in his hand before you were yanking him forward, leaning up a little so your lips were brushing against his earlobe. "give me the world and i'll think about giving you a chance," you mumbled, his hand moving to grab your waist but you quickly shoved your empty glass into it. "and another drink," you smirked, batting your eyelashes up at him.
summary; after finally finishing your residency, you're ready to take a break, to figure stuff out. however, jack can tell something more serious is going on.
warnings; angsty. mentions of suicidal ideations, poor mental health, overworked resident, guilt-ridden jack, reader is a little mean as a self defense mechanism, not proofread
a/n; based on this request ! i hope i did ur vision some justice .. :D im not sure if this is any good lol
word count; 1.8k
Jack has been stuck on the same chart for the past fifteen minutes now. Mainly, because he can't stop staring at you. The tenseness in your shoulders, the clear forced smile you offer others.
He thinks back on your conversation earlier. How you told him you were considering a little vacation, to get your head on straight after the grueling residency you did at the PTMC. He couldn't blame you, residency is tough. He even encouraged you to take a vacation.
But watching you now? He's got this gnawing feeling in his gut, that maybe there was more to the story. Maybe this wasn't just about taking a break. He saw the way you talked today. As if you were treating every interaction like it was your last. That's what worries him.
He remembers how hard residency was for him. How hard many things were for him back then. He remembers everything. The thoughts that haunted him each night, the wonder if waking up was even worth it anymore. Those thoughts rarely swirled in his brain anymore, much thanks to therapy. But now, all those signs are showing up in you.
For starters, you're always at the hospital. Always covering shifts, staying late to finish charts, coming in early to get started on the day. He's not sure he's ever seen you away from the hospital for a decent period of time. He's not sure how you have time to eat, sleep and socialize; he fears that you aren't doing any of that, not properly.
Jack tries to help where he can. Slipping a protein bar into your scrub pocket, 'accidentally' packing two lunches, so he can give one to you, staying late just to take your caseload, so you could go home. But it doesn't seem to be enough. The life seems to be dimming from your eyes, pouring out with every word you utter.
The entire shift, Jack had tried his best to catch you alone, to maybe have a proper chat with you. But it was arguably one of the busier nights the ER has seen, so his interactions with you had been short and sweet.
Finally, after multiple, grueling hours, it had started slowing down. Jack's brows were pressed to a furrow, eyes darting around the open-plan of the ER, trying to spot you in the sea of other doctors and nurses.
"She's up on the roof, cowboy." Lena hummed, a knowing smile on her lips, as she reviewed a chart. Jack turned his head to look at her, lips pursing a little. He hadn't thought he was being so obvious.
With a curt nod, Jack took off toward the elevator. Resting his hands on each end of his stethoscope, he waited patiently as the elevator moved, taking him to the highest floor.
The air was sharp, cold. Beginnings of a sunrise were peeking over the horizon, casting a faint orange hue over the city. Jack's eyes immediately spotted you, stood by the railing in the exact spot you always stand at. He's quite sure the concrete has worn down from under you, considering how often you come up here.
"There you are." Jack murmured, coming to a stop next to you, tucking his hands into his pockets, head tilting back a little. His eyes focused on the sunrise, lungs taking in much needed fresh air, "Why're you hiding up here?"
You swallowed thickly, your thumb and pointer finger tapping against each other, something you found yourself doing often, when you got stressed, or thought too much. "Just...getting air."
Jack hummed, nodding his head slowly a few times, before tilting his head toward you, calculated eyes assessing you.
"What's this break thing really about?" He asks in a soft tone, turning his body to fully face you now, his hip resting against the railing. With his arms crossed over his chest, he continues, "Because I know it's not just to 'figure things out'. I'm all for you taking a break, but I need to know you're safe."
You scoff lightly, immediately going into self-defense mode. "I just need a break. And to figure out what I want to pursue now. If I want to stay here." A soft puff of air left your lips as you finished talking, glazed over eyes staring into the distance.
Jack hummed, his eyes narrowing the tiniest bit in suspicion. "Stay here? At PTMC? We'd be lucky if you did." The corner of his mouth tilted upwards the tiniest bit, "You're a fierce doctor, y'know? Any hospital would be lucky to have you, and I really do hope this one is still in your consideration."
Your heartstrings tugged at that. Because he thinks you mean just that. Staying at the PTMC. How are you meant to tell him that you're considering if staying anywhere is worth it anymore? How every morning feels heavier than the one before, and it takes everything in you to even get up and go to work?
"Guess we'll see." You shrugged, teeth gritting together in a desperate attempt to hold back tears.
Jack being Jack, he saw right through that. He saw the way your eyes glazed over, the way your breaths were coming out a little short. After years, maybe decades, of repressing his own emotions, he'd learned exactly how to spot someone doing it.
Leaning forward, he rested his forearms on the railing, his head turned to look at you. "Look, there's no shame in taking a break. It can be hard to figure out what you want to do, and that's okay. You have time. You can decide what your future plans are when you get back."
"What if I don't come back, what then?" You blurted out, lips falling into a frown. Jack saw your hands fist into the hem of your scrub top.
His back straightened after that. He was expecting it, yes, but he wasn't expecting you to outright say it to him.
"What does that mean?" He asked a little more sharply, moving to stand in front of you now. The furrow of his brow was a permanent fixture on his face now, and he crouched a little to be eye level with you. "Hey, talk to me."
Your teeth dug into your bottom lip, as you turned your face away from him, a tear trickling down your cheek. This is what you'd tried to hide for so long. You knew if you posed a mental health risk, you could endanger your job. No one wants an unstable doctor on their team. And here you were, blurting it all out to Jack.
"Nothing." You shook your head, arms wrapping tight around yourself, jaw set in a tight grit. "It means nothing, Jack. I didn't mean that." You anxiously tapped your foot against the concrete, wanting to get away from this conversation. Ever since you were a kid, all you'd known was defense. Whenever someone confronted you about anything, you'd build your walls so high, nothing gets through.
Jack gently rested his hands on your elbows, the furrow in his brows softening to more of a pleading look. "Don't do that." He whispered, gently pulling you closer, "Don't try and push me away. Don't try and shrug it off, it won't work with me. I know you, and I know when you're lying."
Your arms move, pulling out of his grip, feet backing you up a step or two. "I'm not doing anything. There's nothing for you to worry about, Dr. Abbot." You muttered, throat growing tight, "I'm just fine. And I certainly don't need you worrying about me. Not now, not ever."
He could see tears rolling down your cheeks, and his heart ached. While yes, he felt hurt by what you said, he knew you meant none of it, not really. You were hurt, and you were repressing your feelings. Maybe that's how you got people to back off in the past. But a little snark and ugliness isn't going to scare Jack away, no matter how hard you try.
"Just talk to me." He begged quietly, hands reaching out to you, "Please. I don't know what's going on with you but I can help. I know how it feels to be alone, I know how horrible the tiredness feels, all of it. I don't decide what you feel, and I can't even imagine it, but I can sympathize. Just talk to me."
You simply shook your head, taking another step back. "You don't have to act like my therapist, Jack. I'm fine. Whether I come back from this break or not."
Without giving him a chance to respond, you swiped the tears off your cheeks and took off for the elevator.
Jack stood there, dumbstruck. Fear swirled in his gut, an unknown feeling blooming. Something he hadn't felt for anyone in years. He knew you were struggling, hurting. He'd lived that himself. But, he didn't know how to help you. How to make sure you come back to him.
His mind reels over every interaction you two have had. Maybe, if he picked up on this earlier, it wouldn't have gotten so bad. You'd been so alone, so in pain for god knows how long, and he had just watched you drown. He can't let you go.
The empty weight on his ring finger sends shivers down his spine. Jack had already lost so much. His wife, his leg, years off of his life doing things that only ended up traumatizing him. And now, he could lose you too. And he'd put all the blame on himself.
By the time he made it down, Lena told him that you had already left. Jack tried to call, sent multiple texts just begging for a response, because that's not how he wanted to leave your last interaction. A newfound kind of panic coursed through his veins, setting him rigid.
Had he let you just slip from his grasp? What could he have done differently?
As soon as he was off shift, he was speeding to your place, praying to whoever was listening, that your car would still be there. His fear increases tenfold at the sigh of your empty driveway, the single porchlight flickering on and off. God, how many times he'd promised to come and fix it, after you asked.
Maybe that was your way of asking for company. And he hadn't realized. He really did think you just wanted someone to fix the light, but it wasn't about that at all.
Jack's head thumped against the headrest. As his mind ran over the past year, he could remember all the small hints you'd been leaving. Quietly asking him if he liked farmers markets, that there's always a great one going on the first Saturday of each month.
Or mentioning a singer you both like is coming to Pittsburgh soon. Showing him the website of a restaurant that just opened. All those little signs, of you silently trying to beg for someone to see you, to be with you. And Jack had missed it all.
And this time, his mistake might've made him lose you for good.
