Kat (She/her) ~ 30 = Minors DNIBy day, a simple manager in a sea of managers. By night? An idiot on a keyboard with a tendency for hyperfixation
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Dr. Jack Abbot Fic Recs Pt 2
06/24/2025
⭒ Routine by @john-get-the-salt
The nightly routine of working in the pitt with your husband
⭒ Rage by @/john-get-the-salt
An incident brings the rage out of Jack, but luckily you have the ability to calm him
⭒ PAGING DR.LOVE by @linaaparkes
𝘾𝙤𝙫𝙚𝙧𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙝𝙚𝙧 𝙘𝙤-𝙬𝙤𝙧𝙠𝙚𝙧'𝙨 𝙨𝙝𝙞𝙛𝙩 𝙬𝙖𝙨 𝙨𝙤𝙢𝙚𝙩𝙝𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙨𝙝𝙚 𝙚𝙭𝙥𝙚𝙘𝙩𝙚𝙙, 𝙗𝙚𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙨𝙝𝙞𝙥𝙥𝙚𝙙 𝙬𝙞𝙩𝙝 𝙝𝙚𝙧 𝙝𝙪𝙨𝙗𝙖𝙣𝙙'𝙨 𝙗𝙚𝙨𝙩 𝙛𝙧𝙞𝙚𝙣𝙙 𝙗𝙮 𝙝𝙞𝙨 𝙣𝙚𝙬𝙚𝙨𝙩 𝙧𝙚𝙨𝙞𝙙𝙚𝙣𝙩𝙨 𝙝𝙤𝙬𝙚𝙫𝙚𝙧, 𝙬𝙖𝙨 𝙣𝙤𝙩.
⭒ We’ve got this by @duskbornraven
You get a little too drunk at the bar and your boyfriend is kind enough to get you home.
⭒ push and pull. By @killishin
⭒ Beside you by @writing-girlie
In the wake of Pittfest you have to prepare to confront your past when you and Jack are called in to help.
⭒ Lose Control by @makethatelevenrings
⭒ Just Talk To Me by @leo-in-the-pitt
After having a fling with Dr. Jack Abbott for half of intern year, you’re confused as to where your relationship stands. Heading into 2nd year, your determined to focus on the medicine and away from trouble. It isn’t until a difficult night with a patient that you and Dr. Abbott come together again
⭒ I’ll Be Seeing You by @helenanell
The shift ends and in the aftermath, it’s once again Dr Abbott who anchors me.
⭒ His Rock by @mind-empty-just-fictional-people
⭒ Overactive Empathy by @lol-im-done
A story of an ex-army doctor still haunted by his past who strives to maintain control of his emotions and a nurse with a sixth sense for the emotions of others that everyone has come to rely on- will a traumatic event force them to confront their true feelings for each other or pull them apart forever?
⭒ Angst by @pittrabbit
jack's insistence on pulling away from you finally caused you to break. that, combined with an unlucky day full of bad outcomes, had you visiting jack's favorite spot
⭒ rookie mistake by @highdramas
⭒ spinning out by @/highdramas
you are pittsburgh’s sweetheart, the ice princess, the hometown hero. when you come into the emergency room on the worst day of your life, jack is the one who meets his match.
⭒ it had to be you by @/highdramas
it is the first year you’re attending PTMC’s annual gala as an attending. it’s also your first year with a date.
⭒ Simmering by @/highdramas
you and jack are spent. you stumble into uncharted intimate territory in the confines of his luxurious shower.
⭒ 𝗮𝗯𝘀𝗼𝗹𝘂𝘁𝗲𝗹𝘆 𝘀𝗺𝗶𝘁𝘁𝗲𝗻 I chapter two by @nemo-writes
your day off opens in a quiet, comforting way. errands and small talk feel almost enough to keep the world steady. but scattered signs—disturbed spaces, cryptic messages—suggest unseen eyes on you.
⭒ You’re Okay by @butyoudidthis4what
⭒ dr jack abbot x dr!reader by @astreamofcolors
⭒ Edge of the Dark by @thepencilnerd
⭒ Just Can’t Help It by @playbucky
You and Dr Abbot worked together when he was in the army. Even when you’re on leave from training, you manage to find yourself covered in blood and in The Pitt.
⭒ Daylight by @literazine
reader drops off lunch for jack after they accidentally swapped, only to walk in on him being flirted with egregiously by a mom; of course, the reader has no choice but to remind the people of what's hers
⭒ BITE THE HAND by @/literazine
being casual with jack abbot was never going to be easy, and soon you realize that you've fallen for a man who's afraid of love
⭒ JE TE LASSERAI DES MOTS by @/literazine
seven ways jack abbot says i love you without saying the words—until he finally does.
⭒ I pay attention… by @writtenbyafan
⭒ Jack Abbot x resident!reader by @storiesfromasmalltown
⭒ No Man’s Land by @butyoudidthis4what
Development of your relationship through vignettes of the past and conversations between Jack, Dana and Robby. There's a shooting where you work. Jack is at the ED when the dispatch comes in and is terrified when he can't get in touch with you.
⭒ No Man’s Land Part 2 by @/butyoudidthis4what
⭒ you shouldn’t be (down here with me) by @youvebeenlivingfictional
When you’re almost shot at work, your body snaps into autopilot as your mind goes into overdrive. Jack has always recognized parts of himself in you—he knows a mind teetering on the edge when he sees one.
⭒ you shouldn’t be (up here alone) by @/youvebeenlivingfictional
Jack had told you. After he’d eyed the clock, called time of death, roughly ripped the PPE from his body, he’d rushed past you, warned: “I’m going upstairs.”
⭒ Gravity Part One by @/youvebeenlivingfictional
⭒ Heartbeats and Bombshells by @brainddeadd
⭒ Jack Abbott x ER paediatrician who is sunshine personified by @/brainddeadd
⭒ Guilty by @/brainddeadd
⭒ You’re My Best-Kept Secret by @/brainddeadd
⭒ Claimed by @/brainddeadd
⭒ Loyalty by @writingliv
After years of watching you stay in a loveless marriage, Dr. Abbot may finally have the opportunity to win you over and help you get out.
⭒ In Sickness and In Health by @frombookstoretobookstore
⭒ A Teaching Moment by @/frombookstoretobookstore
⭒ The Offer by @/frombookstoretobookstore
⭒ jack abbot with a reader who does not like eye contact by @halfpsychic
⭒ Stay by @stellamarielu
jack comes home from a long shift to find you fast asleep in his bed
⭒ All Yours by @wackapedia
⭒ Pushing It Down by @helenanell
Years after transferring off the night shift, I finally accept that I may have been running away from someone. From Jack. And I realise this, sitting beside him on a park bench.
⭒ Domestic by @sarahs-secrets2
⭒ okay doctor by @/sarahs-secrets2
⭒ safety net by @/sarahs-secrets2
⭒ I CAN SEE YOU; by @thecherrypittttttt
⭒ SOLID WORK; by @/thecherrypittttttt
⭒ II HANDS II HEAVEN; by @/thecherrypittttttt
⭒ LIKE THE STAR? BRIGHTER. By @gigiwritess
just another normal day at the pitt—except it’s not. for the first time in a long time, jack might have found an equal in every sense.
⭒ FIVE MINUTES AT A TIME ; by @yakshxiao
You and Jack only ever see each other for five minutes at a time — the tail end of day shift and the start of night shift. But those five minutes? They’ve become the best part of both of your days.
Everyone else in the ER has noticed it. The way you both lean in just a little too close during handoff. The way both of you leave a drink and a protein bar next to the chart rack. The way neither of you ever miss a single shift — until one day, one of you doesn’t show up. And everything shifts.
⭒ Open a window by @ezraphalitis
You want to start a family with him, it's been your dream, but life does so little to fulfill such dreams (memories are written this way)
⭒ Next time by @16ferrari
⭒ Hurt by @1-800-imagines
⭒ First Impressions by @duskbornraven
Reader gets saved by a poor doctor just trying to go home and sleep.
⭒ weather the storm by @lovableapocalypse
you take you and jack’s son to the er in the middle of the night when he’s sick, but your marriage happens to be on the rocks atm
⭒ Anxiety by @fioreimagines
Jack knew how it looked with his wife being shy, clumsy, and someone with crippling social anxiety.
⭒ Criminal minds x The Pitt Crossover by @candlelitea
⭒ The Pitt x Call of duty Drabble by @/candlelitea
⭒ Say Something: by @quickestgold
A decade of falling in and out of love has turned you and Jack from lovers to strangers. But when a difficult case hits too close to home, you might finally be calling time of death on your marriage.
⭒ somewhere only we know by @imagines-r-s
⭒ safe haven by @ananonymousaffair
while anxiety can be this very loud entity, you are very grateful to have a boyfriend who can help you quiet down those feelings.
⭒ you meet a few of jack’s coworkers. By @spaceyaemonds
⭒ Three by @sarah-the-bird-nerd
⭒ Wrong Name by @randompiecesofwriting
Reader visits her partner Jack in the ED to drop off his lunch catching the excited attention of all of his colleges much to his chagrin
⭒ ’silent orders’ by @maevawrites
⭒ Wildflower by @glamorizethechaos
⭒ BABY, NO by @dulcebloodhnd
⭒ more than a sip by @pomelace
⭒ unintentionally falling asleep on jack abbot's arms by @erwinsvow
⭒ 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐭𝐰𝐨, 𝐩𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐞 by @/erwinsvow
⭒ 𝐞𝐚𝐯𝐞𝐬𝐝𝐫𝐨𝐩𝐩𝐢𝐧𝐠 by @/erwinsvow
⭒ Quiet by @butyoudidthis4what
Widower Jack and widowed single mom Reader meet in the Pitt when Reader's baby gets sick. What follows is healing, patience and becoming ready.
⭒ Not A Date by @duskbornraven
⭒ Seeing Ghosts by @7-wonders
A case hits too close to home for you. Jack wants you to know you’re not alone.
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for the pitt ask game: 7, 9, 12 and 15
7. What is your overall favorite scene?
My favorite scene hands down has to be the scene when Chad comes down to the ER during the mass causality event. I love the framing of how insane it was to someone who wasn't a doctor. Like we knew it was insane but seeing it through that lens is always so good.
9. Which scene is the funniest to you?
For the funniest case it has to be the poor fork girl at the very end. Begging to end it makes me laugh so hard
12. Which doctor would you want to handle your care if you were in the ER?
Dr. King for sure, like I love my boys so much but I would just have a hard time being stressed with her as my doc
15. Would you rather work day shift or night shift?
As much as I have been told it would be miserable it would have to be nights. Like I cannot get over how much I love the nightshift vibe. My nightshift nurse roommate would be disappointed in me though.
(Questions listed here!)
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6, 10, 22 for the pitt asks!
Thank you for making the list and sending over some asks this is so fun!
6. Which patient/case is your favorite?
My favorite case has to be the influencer. I liked getting to see Samira rock a case and go with her gut so much. And the medical side was very interesting!
10. Which character dynamic is your favorite?
Dana and Robby by miles, I love the friendship and the trust and care they have for each other.
22. If you were working on a patient, which doctors or nurses would you want to work with?
This is such a split shift answer but I think dream team for me has to be working with Abbot and Donahue like they killed it in every case they were on. I'd also love to have Princess as a second Nurse if we needed one because again, the best.
(Questions listed here!)
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The Pitt Ask Game
I want people to send me questions about The Pitt, so here’s an ask game with general questions.
Who is your favorite character?
Who is your least favorite character?
Who is your favorite recurring or minor character (i.e., not in the main cast)?
Which episode is your favorite?
Which episode is your least favorite?
Which patient/case is your favorite?
What is your overall favorite scene?
Which scene was the one that had the most emotional impact for you?
Which scene is the funniest to you?
Which character dynamic is your favorite?
Which character dynamic do you want to see more of?
Which doctor would you want to handle your care if you were in the ER?
Which nurse would you want to handle your care if you were in the ER?
If you worked at Pittsburgh Trauma Medical Center, which department would you work for?
Would you rather work day shift or night shift?
Which character do you want to see the most in season 2?
Do you have any have any favorite ships? Which ones?
Do you have any crackships or rarepairs? Which ones?
Which friendship is your favorite?
Tell me your thoughts on [insert character A] and [insert character B]!
What are some of your headcanons for [insert character]?
If you were working on a patient, which doctors or nurses would you want to work with?
You somehow found yourself in the Pitt. What is the most likely (silly) medical reason, and would it happen during the day or night shift?
What storyline do you most want to see in the next season?
After a shift, how would you decompress?
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Thank you guys so much for all the love and support. I am coming up on my first 100 followers and I am thinking up a way to celebrate. Right now my mind us mush because I was forced out of my enclosure all weekend but I am working on writing pretty much every night so more is in the works there as well!
Thank you all again and I'll be bugging you all very soon.
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Good Old-Fashioned Lover Boy
This took forever because my stupid brain fought me the entire month and a half I have been working on this, and he wouldn't shut the hell up.
Paring: Jack Abbot x f!Reader
Contents: mdni plot with smut, female reader, Oral (f receiving), unprotected sex, general teasing, age gap, jealousy, a lot of just emotions in general, female reader and body descriptions, established relationships, No beta I refuse to leave the hill
Summary: Weddings are long and complicated affairs, and they often bring up a lot of emotions even when you're not the one getting married. Part 2 of this
Word Count: 10k
As the date of the wedding actually drew closer the more you couldn’t wait for it to be over. You were more than excited to go but it was still a lot for Jack, both in time management and emotionally. You saw it in the little ways, finding him asleep on the couch more than actually in bed, the signs of his pacing in the carpet, the way he seemed to cling to you when you were home. It was like you were the only solid thing in an ocean of thoughts. The way he kissed you felt more passionate, more like he was trying to swallow a piece of you to take with him.
You went out of your way to make time for him when he was going to be home. Took little steps to make sure you saw him at least for an hour or two every day. Once you even took a personal day on his day off to just lay on the couch with him, head in his lap watching TV with his hand in your hair, the other propping open the book he had desperately been trying to finish for the last three months.
It was one of the better days that you had both had in a long time. Not really even talking, just being allowed to co-exist in the same space as each other for more than an afternoon was more than either of you had gotten in what felt like a lifetime.
It was a return to the cozy domestic life that had settled into the walls in your time together. If he was being honest, living with you was better than he had dared to hope. You brought life into the place and he had been missing it for too long. Even when he missed seeing you in the mornings before you got out the door, Jack could still find you in spilled coffee or warm sheets when he finally decided to try to get some sleep.
You were the constant in his life that he missed most when you traveled. When family or work pulled you away it was like the world got just a little colder again. Sometimes translated into an extra therapy appointment before going home. But you always brought the warmth of the sunrise with you when the door swung open on your return. A little reminder that there was comfort in the day too, it just so happened that it only came in the shape of you.
The past few weeks had been a limbo between the two ends of the spectrum. You were both home but he had to leave you more than he wanted. Slept longer when he did sleep, the struggles of working in medicine meant leaning on people who had more regular hours. Or in this case piecemealing together jobs for your groomsmen who also, mostly, worked in medicine. Jack was one of the lucky few who wasn’t at work during the day and he could help handle some of the day to day during the week. It just meant that he got home later in the day, which also meant missing you entirely when he did. It also meant that when you had errands to run at night you were long gone by the time he was forcing himself out of bed.
The best example as the wedding creeped closer was dress shopping, something you had put off longer than you should have in all honesty. The idea had brought a new level of realness to being Jack’s wedding date. Even so more than actually attending the rehearsal dinner the weekend before. Now, standing here going through and trying to decide what would work best was stressing you more than you could have predicted. You had the brilliant idea to make a point of not showing Jack what you were wearing.The idea of something to surprise him with had seemed like fair revenge for all the photos of him you had received, looking obscenely handsome out with the wedding party. Adding insult to injury he got home long after you had passed out in bed, meaning frustrations were exceptionally high. Now here you were standing in the changing room absolutely torn on what to pick, you had narrowed it down to two choices.
Either the safe bet or the one you had fallen in love with the second you tried it on. It was like it was made for you but it was a little too perfect for a wedding, at least that was the fear. You agonized over it, almost to the point of going against your promise to yourself and sending Jack a picture. You managed to hold strong not to actually send the photos though you did cave and ask him how safe you should play it, that you had something you liked and something you loved. It took him no time to reply.
Go with your gut. Nobody there will hate you for looking good.
Would be helpful if I could see it though.
You didn’t even entertain that last text with a response. He could wait, he had been trying to get you to show him the dress since you made up your mind to specifically not show him. But you did take his advice, leaving with the one that felt like you. The one at the very least would get Jack's approval. Which was really half the battle you were already fighting in your head.
It would be one thing if it was just an old military friend or someone from the hospital that was getting married. But life couldn't ever be simple. It had to be someone who followed him to the hospital after the army. An old, old friend who was probably inviting all sorts of fun and important people from Jack's life.
Which also meant this wedding would be a lot of their first impressions of you. So no pressure at all, just the people who knew him best about to meet you for the first time in one big social setting, while he was also probably going to be at least a little busy throughout the night. No pressure at all.
No matter how many times Jack told you that it would be fine it was a big deal. Probably the biggest deal of your relationship so far. It also, as Jack pointed out over dinner last night, meant that you would have to answer how you met, probably over and over again. The idea was daunting but with the difference in ages, careers and even work schedules it was probably going to come up.
Just another thing on the ever growing list that you would have to be a little worried about. But all that did little to stifle the excitement at the idea of walking around on the arm of your incredibly handsome doctor boyfriend.
When the day finally rolled around Jack was up before you were, and had gotten more sleep than he had planned thanks to you. You had fallen asleep on his chest, something that was a rare occurrence even with normal schedules and usually meant that he got a decent night's sleep. The added weight and your steady breathing almost always put him to sleep, especially on cool nights when the windows were cracked just enough to chill the room.
He extricated himself carefully from under you, doing his best not to let you flop face first onto the mattress. You did stir just a little, a muffled noise that he knew was probably meant to be his name escaped you against the bed, or maybe a curse considering the bleary glare you managed. Thankfully it wasn’t until he emerged from the shower that you were actually waking up, hair still a mess and blinking sleep from your eyes.
“You’re up on time.” You yawned, kicking away the sheets, your bare legs exposed covered only by the too large shirt of the week you had stolen from him. Your tiny, sleepy smile meant that you hadn't missed the way he tracked the movement of his eyes trailing up your thighs.
“Had to be.” He was rechecking the bag he had packed last night, triple checking he had everything he thought he would need. He leaned forward supported by the bed, pecking you lightly on the lips before straightening back up. “Looks pretty bad if I’m late. But I’ll see you tonight, yeah?”
Another yawn and a nod as you stretched back out on the bed, basking in the warmth that still lingered. “I can’t wait.” came the half awake reply as he ducked out of the room. Lingering only for a second to watch you start to drift back off, head buried in his pillow and swaddled once again in blankets.
On reflection, wedding party photos had to be one of the most time consuming parts of the whole day. He was one of the first to be ready that morning, had been ready for weeks mentally and really didn’t see the point in dragging out getting dressed. So here he was, changed and half asleep while waiting for the rest of the party to get ready. It was especially wearing because all he could think about was you. Still probably relaxing at home while he waited to get melted in the sun. He was finally going to get to see what you had been teasing him about for the better part of two weeks.
It hardly seemed fair that you got to see him getting ready and he had to wait what was starting to feel like an eternity to see you all dressed up. He was a pretty patient man but this staring at the end date in its face was starting to crack the facade. Jack had been good and hadn’t gone snooping for it since you had stashed it somewhere out of eyesight. Probably for the best, he would like to think his restraint would hold but there was some room for doubt there.
He endured the hour or so before photos and the impending ceremony pacing and letting the rest of the wedding party suck him into idle small talk. When they were released he fell to the back of the group, already pushing his social battery for the afternoon and with a mountain of small talk to climb.
Old memories bubbling beneath the surface mixing with new excitement and the general anxiety that came with being involved in a wedding. He pushed it all down, letting himself get dragged into the conversation with the bridal party yet again. The two groups had been separate for most of the weekend other than a brief meeting the weekend before for a rehearsal dinner. It was pretty natural that there would be a lot of small talk. But he wasn’t sure he would be able to handle talking about his job any more than he already had. Too many conversations about how hard it must be doing emergency medicine and what made him choose to stick with it, how had he landed on nights? He was also relieved that most of the shit talk about him dating so much younger had been reserved for the nights out with the groomsmen. You never seemed to mind nearly as much as he did but that was because you were a saint with twice his patience.
He was more than happy to be pulled off to help carry one of the photographer’s bags to the car. Taking the moment to check his phone for what felt like the hundredth time that hour. Normally you texted him periodically even when you knew he was busy. Now it was radio silent and he was almost certain you were doing it on purpose, making him wait to see you in person. It wasn’t that he couldn’t wait, it was that the anticipation was starting to eat him alive. He went to shove the phone back into his pocket when it vibrated in his hand. Checking the screen he paused mid step for just a moment when your name appeared with an attached photo. Opening it revealed a photo of the outside of the venue. A small crowd forming in the afternoon sunlight. Another message followed shortly after.
Can't wait, I'll see you soon!
Slipping in the backseat of the car he took a breath, already feeling his body protesting the schedule change in addition to far too much standing still. It had been wishful thinking that he would get a picture this close to the start time. One of the things Jack begrudgingly admired most about you was that you could be so goddamn stubborn when you wanted to be. You had been holding strong for weeks on not even letting him get a hint of what you were wearing, there was no way you would break now.
The drive wasn't bad, sitting with the guys, listening to them talk idly. They all shared the same nervous energy that he could feel still bubbling beneath the surface. Pulling up to the actual venue he wasn’t surprised to see a packed parking lot, grateful that he had to be here early and landing a decent parking spot for the truck. It wasn’t massive but he liked making sure that he would actually fit in the spaces when he would be somewhere for more than a few hours. Something you had commented on when you first started dating, his unwillingness to be that asshole with the too big truck.
Jack once again found himself in the thick of the wedding party, entering through the main doors of the resort like other guests. A sharp right had them taking the side hallway to the back rooms to wait for their procession to start. Which wouldn’t be too much longer he noted checking his watch. He had checked the small steam of guests but hadn’t managed to spot you through the crowd.
In what felt like seconds he was lined up for the walk and couldn’t help feel that familiar nervous energy. The gentle chatter of the crowd echoed down the hallway. Arm linking with the maid of honor he took a steadied breath as the music cued them to walk. Focused solely on getting them to their spot at the altar, not daring to look away from the cameras trained on them as they marched forward.
It wasn’t until he took his place that he took the chance to scan the crowd, trying to remember where you were supposed to be sitting. It was a damn good thing he had kept his eyes forward. Watching an old man trip over himself walking down the aisle because his beautiful girlfriend had smiled at him would have been a rough start to the processional. Jack locked eyes with you; he was certain that was what would have happened. Your smile growing impossibly wider at him. He didn’t blush easily, but he could feel his cheeks burning under the lights now. Heat creeping under his collar and fanning into the tips of his ears.
How he had managed to land you was beyond comprehension. Sitting there outshining everyone else in the venue, if anyone noticed his blatant stare didn’t matter. What mattered was the tiny smile you gave him when your eyes met, the way the light caught your hair. The wait had been worth it, you were beyond anything words could describe. He was pretty sure he wouldn't have been able to keep his hands to himself if you had shown him that at home. Which may have been a part of the reason you waited in hindsight, making sure it would be wearable tonight. He doubted it would make it through the evening.
Fuck was he lucky. As far as he was concerned the luckiest man in that building today. The thought circled in his head, as unshakeable as his focus. The best part was you knew it too, he could see you fighting to keep a neutral expression the longer his gaze lingered. You were the only thing that mattered in the world at this moment, the only thing that had kept him afloat the past two weeks. He was only able to look away when you gave the tiniest jerk of your head, pointing out the fairly obvious fact that he needed to go back to facing towards the front before the bride started her walk.
It was a beautiful ceremony. He had known it would be from the start, the couple was so grossly perfect for each other it was the sort of romance you saw in seasonal romantic comedies. Jack was very honored to be standing where he was but nothing in the world could have stopped him from stealing glances at you during the ceremony. Catching you fighting back tears more than once. Fighting down his own emotion more than he would admit during it all as well, mostly happy, some of that lingering bitter pain that refused to leave no matter how hard he tried to ignore it.
When they were finally released to go mingle before food was served Jack wasted no time in finding you. Arm snaking easily around your waist, tugging you into him, enjoying the warmth that radiated from you. He pressed a kiss to your temple taking no small amount of satisfaction that your hand tightened on his sleeve at the touch. “You look, I mean stunning isn’t even the right word.”
That got the rare radiant smile that reminded him briefly of man on wax wings flying far too close to the sun. He didn’t care if his wings melted so long as he was the one earning that smile. As long as he was the one lucky enough to take you home every night to the bed you had agreed to share. Your flustered thank you was drowned out by the conversation around you but he didn’t need to hear it to understand it. Getting to mingle, you under his arm was really all that mattered the rest of the night anyways. He would have to leave you here and there but right now he was all yours.
“Wanna show you off while we have time, come on.” He steered you effortlessly through the crowd, head on a swivel before leading you to a small cluster of groomsmen you had met very briefly at the rehearsal last week and a few others that you had not met.
Introductions were short made and it was pretty clear before they even said it these were vets. They seemed to know everything about each other, they all carried some of the weight that Jack did that felt older than the hospital. Sometimes even older than Jack himself. The newer faces approached to either hug Jack or clap him on the shoulder.
“God damn it's not fair man. Abbot always gets the pretty girls.” One of the new, well they were all new to you, newer faces sighed. Watching as Jack absently slid an arm from your shoulders to your waist, pulling you just a tiny bit closer.
“I do not. Just the ones that matter.” You were vaguely aware that your face grew hot at that comment.
“It's because he traded one uniform for the other. Chicks go crazy for the whole solider thing and this mother fucker went and started medicine on top of it.” Another voice cut in.
“Ignore them.” The guy directly next to you added. Also not someone you recognized. “They were the same way when I introduced them to my wife.” He offered a hand, “Nick, I don't think I actually said hi earlier.”
“Your wife is also too good looking to be with you Nicky.” The original guy cut in before returning to his own conversation.
“Bunch of jealous mother fuckers.” Nick shook his head, “if you ever want a friend who’s been dealing with these jackals for a while I can introduce you to Em. She’s always looking for a new friend.”
“I think I might need the back up.” You said it half joking, but a new friend was a new friend especially when it came to having another safe face at these functions. “Thanks.”
Almost immediately your new ally in the circle was tapped on the shoulder by another new arrival and was pulled into a side conversation. You were just happy to watch Jack talk, he felt younger the way people always seemed to when catching up with people from their past. His motions are more animated, more quick to smile than when he was with hospital friends.
The announcement for dinner rolled around and Jack’s attention was back on you, hand slipping into yours. Tugging your attention out of the back half of a story Nick had been telling about his job, something for the city if you were hearing him right over the overlapping chatter.
“Keep an eye out man, rumor is the vulture might show. Can’t believe he made the list after all that.” Another one of the men you didn’t really recognize had spoken up, eyes flicking between the pair of you.
“He knows better than to try shit with me, if he does show his face.” You raised an eyebrow and he just shook his head in response.
You didn’t miss the way a nerve jumped in Jack’s jaw when he said it though. The way his eyes started the familiar detailed scanning of the crowd that was only reserved for late nights and possibly dangerous situations.
When you landed at your table near the front with the wedding party he seemed to relax, pulling your seat out for you, hand on your shoulder while he settled into his own seat, making an effort not to sigh as weight came off his feet.
As predicted the questions started pretty much as soon as the other women at the table got settled. You were the new face, the latest addition to the circle. It was nice though that it had just now come up, one ask one answer.
It was all the usual questions, how did you meet? Is it hard dating a doctor? It was always fun comparing how your friends reacted compared to his. As much as you got eyebrow raises with his friends at the age difference it was never as bad as he got from yours. Until you made it so abundantly clear that you were the one chasing this poor man, almost from the moment you met him actually. It usually helped clear the air and it almost always got a little bit of a blush out of Jack, tonight being no exception.
Dinner passed with small talk as the attention faded from you, Jack was more than happy to let you carry conversation. When plates were cleared music kicked in, slowly at first letting the room settle. The DJ stepping up and cueing the first dance. Which was as sweet, watching them whispering in each other’s ear, swaying together.
When the floor opened other couples trickled out to the floor. Laughing as they passed you both by. You were engrossed in conversation still, pulled into a story Jack had heard at every get together since the army. He was more than happy to watch the other couples on the floor, steadily building his own nerve. He hadn’t actually thought about this part when he asked you to be his date. He probably should have considered it but more than anything just wanted the excuse to spend time with you.
As luck had it, he didn't actually have to formally ask you; the DJ called for the couples to come to the floor for the final dance of the evening. You were on your feet first, taking him by the hand and leading the way with a small crowd. He could feel his pulse racing, the rush of adrenaline like it was a looming fight not a dance.
When was the last time he had actually danced? Let someone in like this, seeing him clumsy and awkward. His relife that you also seemed less than confident out here. It would have felt wrong to not at least get you on the floor, let you feel special, beautiful. Because you were.
The song was slow, not quite anything formal but slow enough. Your body flush with his letting him lead you in a slow dance, more rocking together than anything else.
“Having a good night?” Your voice came from his shoulder.
“With you? Always.” He swore he could hear your face heat against him, feel the smile tucked into his shirt collar. “Are you having a good night? I know it can be way too much when we all get together.”
“Can’t complain so far.” Your hand squeezing his just a little tighter.
The gentle sound of conversation from other couples mingled with the music. A pair off to the left had each other laughing hysterically, holding each other up more than anything else. Both already looking more than a little tipsy already.
“Thank you for bringing me.” Your voice caught his attention again. His arm around your waist pulling you a little tighter in response.
“Wouldn’t want to bring anyone else.” Pressing a kiss against the back of your hand. “Glad you said yes. It would be miserable here alone.”
You looked up at him as the song came to an end, arms circled his neck and lips met his. The kiss was short, just shy of chaste, but held all the warmth of something much deeper. Everything good about you, shared in one moment.
Jack led you back to the table, arm around your waist, thumb idly tracing small circles against your hip as you waited for crowds to part while people took their places in between the floor and your seats. It wasn’t much later that speeches started, which had almost slipped his mind entirely despite weeks of memorization. He blamed you for his memory issues tonight, he was still catching himself staring when you weren’t looking, the off and on drinking probably wasn’t helping much either.
Jack’s speech was one of the better ones in your own personal opinion. That didn’t mean that you understood the subtle interdepartmental hospital jabs or the calls back to the military. That didn’t matter, the speech wasn’t for you. It was for the very adorable couple sitting beside the mic stand. Your bias came entirely from the fact that it was so Jack, the jokes, the timing, the rare genuine smile at the end. It felt like something he agonized over, read and then re-read to make sure it was perfect. The type of memorization that he had you quiz him on on occasional rare studies he found.
Speeches wrapped and Jack left you again, dragged off to another round of wedding photos with more of the family. You were hardly paying attention to the crowd around you. More than happy to wait where he had left you at the bar and people watch and take a minute of silence after dinner. You hadn't anticipated a slightly tipsy guest joining you. Standing a little too close for comfort. It was hard to miss the way his eyes lingered a little too long. Or the way he let his arm rest a little too long pressed against yours before apologizing when you pulled away.
“Pretty girl like you shouldn’t be drinking alone.” The smile was too easy, too familiar already.
“I’m not drinking alone.” You nodded towards the doors that lead outside. “Just waiting for him to get back.”
“Well if he’s not here then you’re alone.” The glass slid closer to you. “Come on, one drink won’t kill you.” There was something almost charming in the way he looked at you, but a little too smooth, an act that had been mastered rather than something natural.
You didn't miss the way he brushed the back of his hand against your arm when he leaned away, leaving the glass almost touching the back of your hand. Smiling all the while like you were sharing a moment. Those brown eyes never leaving your face, too confident that he could wear you down.
“It probably won’t, this conversation might.” You, maybe mistakenly, took the drink. Positive that you had kept your eye on it the whole time and honestly a drink might help you get through this easier. You could just disappear into the crowd, but that meant it would be a pain to find Jack again. If you waited you would be annoyed but easy to spot if the guy was still hanging around. Despite his persistence so far nothing was screaming at you to run, annoying yes. Scary? Not even a little.
Admittedly you also didn’t know anyone else here that you were sure wouldn’t take the guy’s side. You were pretty sure the bartender was also keeping an eye on the situation from the glace she had spared you when he approached. Waiting and playing the cold indifferent card was winning out from the logical standpoint. So you moved a little further away and swirled the cup. Watching the mingling couples and praying that Jack would hurry the hell up.
“Are you here with your boyfriend then?” Another casual lean too close across the cool bar top.
“That is what I was hinting at.” You still wouldn’t meet his gaze, focusing on a group of women not too far away.
“Is he a hospital or Army friend?” Pressing forward again, knowing you were almost out of bar to escape to.
“Both actually.” You smiled at that, meeting his eye for the first time since he approached you. “I’m guessing you’re in the army camp.”
“Naturally, Mark Taylor at your service.” He gave a slightly drunken salute, the smile a little more organic the more he drank, his eyes seemingly darker by the second. It did nothing to make him less gross, the charm still too manufactured. “Serving gave me skills in all things that matter, just an fyi.”
Despite your attitude towards him Mark seemed hell bent on spending his time at the reception glued to your side, determined to keep the scrap of attention that you had given him. He was now regaling you with old tales of heroics that might have impressed anyone else in the room. He seemed fine, pushy and too much of a flirt, but not like an axe murderer. Your eyes broke from his the instant you caught the sound of the heavy doors opening again just audible over the crowd.
Jack spotted you almost immediately where he had left you at the bar, further towards the edge and engrossed in a conversation with another man. Which, fair enough, he had been gone for the better part of the hour. He hadn’t expected you to sit in isolation, and had really doubted that nobody would approach you. It wasn’t until the crowd between you shifted and he got a good look as the man brushed a hand over yours while taking your empty glass. The one simple, intimate act lit a fire. The flicker of annoyance that got him pushing a little more aggressively through a suddenly too crowded room.
When he was about halfway across the room it was easier to see that the man was pretty clearly a few drinks in. One arm used to support him against the solid wood, the other nursing a beer bottle. He was also too close, almost pressing up against you as he spoke. A strong enough breeze would have pushed your bodies together. You weren’t paying him any attention clearly scanning the crowd. The fire flickered steadily, that simmering anger below the surface. Until that supporting arm dipped boldly behind your back, pulling him towards you. Jack was through the crowd, stepping behind you as you pulled away from the other man.
Anger turned to rage, turned to calm as his brain caught up. Not a stranger, not to him. Some asshole he had butted heads with for more years than he had cared to admit. Always turning up where he wasn’t wanted and pushing limits he really should know better than to be pressing. It looked like there was a vulture circling tonight.
You overbalanced just a little, caught easily on Jack’s arm. The tension in his body was as plain as day, unwilling to look away from the perceived threat. But the weight of you against him broke that moment. Eyes finding yours and softening just a little as he searched them.
“Been waiting for you.” Your voice was soft, a hand on the back of the neck pulling him in, letting the kiss speak for him for just a second. Possessive and demanding against you, pulling you impossibly closer, making his point.
Kissing you was heaven, always had been, would be for as long as you let him keep doing it. This time especially was everything he needed that solid proof that he was the one supposed to be here. Maybe it was everything you needed too based on the way you gripped his shoulder, the reassurance that always came with his presence. He could tell you had been drinking, could taste the hint of the drink on your soft lips. He knew the same was probably true for you since he could still feel the burn of whiskey in his throat.
When he pulled away he wasn’t surprised to see Taylor still watching, hand too tight on the glass in front of him. Those cold brown eyes unchanged after a lifetime out of the service. Jack also wasn’t surprised he had been after you, or that he wasn’t happy to see that it was him holding you. That you let him stand between the pair of you, a clear line in the sand.
“Taylor.” Clipped and formal, disdain clear in his voice.
“Abbot.” Equally as displeased as he scowled as Jack moved between you, blocking you mostly from sight. His back to you to face the other man fully, his arm moving to wrap around your shoulder. He wanted to touch you still, but also needed to be between the pair of you.
“Been a long time.” His grip tightening on your shoulder, almost certainly risking a bruise, something he would make up to you later.
“You got old.” The younger man scoffed, looking him over.
“You haven’t changed, still circling where you’re not fucking wanted.” There was the old anger just under the surface like it always was when the pair of them were together. “Didn’t know you were going to be here, might not have come.”
“Not surprised. There's a lot of things you seem to miss.” The other man was still looking at you and clearly directed his next question at you rather than the newest arrival. “This that boyfriend you mentioned?”
“Amazing guess.” You tucked against Jack’s back more solidly, letting the warmth of him shelter you from the confrontation.
“Shame that someone as pretty as you has such shit taste in men.” A scoff, the slamming of his drink and pushing the glass away. Eyes not leaving the pair of you, the way you clung to Jack. The tension that still coiled in Jack’s shoulders, the almost unblinking defiant glare. He caved, leaving his finished drink at the bar and disappearing into the crowd. Sparing you a backwards glance.
“You good?” Jack had refocused on you. Eyes searching your own for the answer before you spoke, his hand cupping your jaw.
“I’m a lot better now.” Your hand lingered on his arm feeling the tension leaving his body just a little, his attention refocusing on you. “Guy was persistent. Came over not long after you left. I wasn’t sure what it would take to get him to leave. He must have tried his whole playbook from the sound of it.”
The simmer was back, the calm from the confrontation had faded but not the anger that the piece of shit had been there, had touched you. Had probably spent however long whispering the usual filth at you, trying to make you forget you weren’t here alone for however long you held his interest.
He wasn’t aware that his jaw was locked, eyes almost unblinking as he watched the other man retreat through the crowd. His posture was too straight, like every muscle in his body had been drawn taught, a man ready for a fight even after the threat had passed. A man whose territory had been stepped on and the insult still lingered too bitter on this tongue.
“Are you good?” Your voice snapping him out of the thoughts, didn’t dismiss them by any means but gave him the push to do something about it.
“Will be.” His hand wrapped around your wrist, vice like, a solid tether to him while he led you wordlessless through the crowd. Effortless making a path through the sea of people, leading you to the stairwell in the far corner of the room. Pushing the doors open with more force than he intended. The noise almost immediately muffled by the cold brick of the stairwell. There was only one level below you, isolated and with some privacy in the corner under the steps.
The door hadn’t fully closed on the level above you before your back met the solid stone of the wall behind you. His lips on yours, crushing you beneath him. His hand between your legs the faint scratch of nail against exposed skin before brushing against the thin cloth that separated you from his touch. The faintest scratch of his facial hair has his mouth broke from yours, moving deliberately along your jaw feeling the rush of heat across your skin at his touch. The jealous, clawing part of him finally quieted at your hands searching for purchase against him.
A desperate moan escaped you as fingers pushed aside the fabric, teasing before pressing a finger, then two into you. Lips and teeth trailing over whatever exposed skin he could reach as you writhed between him and the wall at your back.
He hushed you, the sound muffled against your already too hot skin. Hands desperately scrambling for purchase against the fabric of his jacket. You were a wreck for him already, soaked and needy against his fingers.
“All this for me? Or did that jackass get you this excited?” His voice thick as he spoke, pulling back to study your face. “Tell you how pretty you were? How good he'd make you feel?”
Any actual words you would have managed were replaced but a whine as he stilled, all but pulling away. Shades of brown eclipsing the green, pupils dilated. Studying your face, waiting for your answer, pulling a little further away from you, just enough for it to make the point.
“You. All for you.” Your hips chased his retreating fingers, pleading, desperate. “Jack only you, please.”
“Better be.” He pressed back into you, returning to the rhythm he had set. Free hand working his belt loose, watching you struggle to stay quiet. The way you arched against him when he curled his fingers just right. Earning him another muffled noise that might have been his name.
It was impossible to ignore the way your desperate motions, the muffled whines fed the growing arousal pressing against you in the empty stairwell. The look in his eyes couldn’t even be deceived as hungry, starved was more accurate. A man who had gone days without a proper meal and had stumbled into a feast.
“Been killing me seeing you in this.” His free hand teasing the material of the dress between his fingers. “Like it was made for you. Spent weeks making me wonder about it.” The drag of his thumb over your neglected clit, drinking in the way you fought to keep quiet, the way your breath stopped just for that split second. “Then I see some asshole practically begging to get you out of it. Doubt he would even know how to handle you.”
A frantic shake of your head earned another circle. A pathetic noise escaped you and his hand clamped over your mouth, eyes watching the way yours seemed to grow impossibly more dilated. Something practically purring in his chest that he would have to dissect later.
“Going to get us caught.” He rumbled against you. “That what you want? Let your new best friend find you like this?”
Jack’s hand did little to muffle the desperate moans that you did very little to try to stop as the mounting pleasure coiled in your core. Another broken noise as his fingers worked instantly earned an appreciative growl as you clenched around his fingers, arching into him as much as you could. The building pleasure bringing tears to your eyes desperately searching his face.
“I got you, let go for me.” Whispered against the shell of your ear, breath warm even against your too hot skin feeling that familiar tremble at your core. “You’re right there, I can feel it.”
You didn’t need to be told twice, a muffled, broken noise as those eyes drank in your expression. Knees failing to hold your weight as your Orgasm ripped through you, falling into Jack’s solid frame. “There you go, there’s my girl.” His arm around you, keeping you upright. A kiss pressed into the side of your head.
You were still in the weak and foggy state when the door pushed open on the level above you, the sound of the party filling the space, echoing all around you. Bringing you back to the reality of the situation. There were at least fifty people just a floor above you, you had snuck off with one of the more important people in the wedding party. Of course someone would come looking for him.
An echoing voice called down the stairs. “Hey Abbot, you down here?”
“Yeah man, what’s up?” His voice was too even, way too controlled as he stood there holding you up with his fingers still inside you, watching you intently as your eyes cleared. A clear message to keep quiet reflected in them.
“We need you for like five, maybe ten?” Came the echoing answer down the steps. “You good to come up?”
“Be right there.” The sound of the heavy metal door closing on the level above you and a pause before he stepped away, leaving you cold and empty.
Heat rushing sight of him sucking his fingers clean before addressing you. “Meet you up there, give it a second.” A fleeting kiss, the taste of you lingering faintly. Those darkened eyes watching you for a minute longer before making his way back up the steps.
Jack knew he had probably been caught, had at least left the door open for speculation. It didn’t help that he had to wait an agonizing few minutes for the erection to at least start softening. It was a little hard to miss the way his dick pressed against the fabric of his pants. If he hadn’t been caught walking out hard would certainly raise a few questions. When it was finally clear to push his way back onto the main floor he found a small huddle of the other groomsmen. Walking to join them, hands in his pockets.
If there was any suspicion here then they didn’t say anything to his face, which was a pretty good sign that he had been much less obvious than he had suspected he was. Or they were being nice, which was much less likely with the current company. They didn’t press against the excuse that he just wanted five minutes downstairs away from their dumb asses and the noise.
The other guys just a little help getting the cars loaded for when the newlyweds took off. It was pretty easy work and gave him time to actually go get himself cleaned up a little better. Catching Taylor watching him occasionally as he navigated the crowd, returning his glare with a smirk.
By the time they were rounding up guests to leave you had managed to mingle and not draw any attention as far as you could tell. You had admittedly just latched yourself onto the group with the most friendly faces and hoped that Jack would find you eventually.
“So we wind up having to bail him out of jail and half sneak him back on base with us.” You had landed yourself with a few of the people from dinner, most of the names lost somewhere in the ongoing list you had tried to remember. Currently you were in the middle of a story about the groom from back when they were all young and dumb.
“And as luck had it, your very drunk friend wound up also being friends with the poor asshole at the gates that night, who maybe let you off lighter than he should have.” Hands in his pockets Jack had materialized once again, cutting through the group like a knife. “Who knew we’d be standing here watching him get married to that bartender.”
His focus shifted to you a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth, “crazy what brings two people together sometimes.” He looked tired, not quite exhausted, the sort of heaviness you associated with a long day out rather than the drained man who sometimes returned from the hospital.
The call to meet outside for the couple to leave was made, venue staff ushering the lingering guests out the back doors. The hall slowly emptying into the scenic night air, the lights of Pittsburgh proper admittedly made for a beautiful backdrop this far away. Guests formed a loose semicircle around where they had been directed. You, like the other guests around you, were focused solely on the couple as they exited from a separate set of doors.
You missed the way Jack’s eyes had focused only on you. The way you craned your neck to get a better view. The way your face lit up again and cheered with the other guests. The way you brushed against him without even seeming to notice. The way your face lit up for the bridesmaid who caught the wedding bouquet, excitement for a total stranger radiating off of you.
If the idea of marriage hadn’t already been spinning somewhere in his subconscious it certainly was now. It wasn’t hard at all to picture doing this again all of a sudden, but that also was because it was you. You had crashed into his life and dragged him back out of the dark, just a little. It wouldn’t be easy going through it again, just like moments leading up to today had been painful. But if it was with you, for you? It would be worth it. He forced himself to look forward when the crowd applauded again, the wheels still turning in the back of his mind, maybe picking up speed a little when you grinned over at him again.
The pair of you weren’t the first ones to head back towards the main lobby but you were among the first. Only stopped by the occasional out of town friend wishing Jack a good night, offering a nice to meet you in your direction before slipping out into the night. The goodbyes were a little longer for those who, like you, who had rooms at the resort for the night. Not by much though as it was clear exhaustion was taking its toll.
“Been waiting all fucking night to get you up here.” Arms pulling you against him once the door to your room shut. “Get to take this off you.” A hand trailed along the fabric still draping across you, tracking the zipper. The sound of the teeth parting the only noise in the room followed by the soft thud of the dress finally falling away from you.
You slipped from his touch, shoes kicked by the door, bra discarded easily along the way, aware that he was trailing right behind you. Sinking onto the edge of the bed, looking up to catch the hunger in those eyes before pushing you back, the sheets cool against your already flush skin. His weight pinning you easily beneath him, kissing you like he may actually never get to again. His tongue danced so easily against yours as he re-mapped the roof of your mouth, like it had changed in the hours since he had last been able to kiss you like this.
Your hands worked to undo his belt in the limited space between the press of his body, the hiss of the leather sliding through loops filling the room. The metal clinked against the floor a moment later joining the growing pile of discarded clothing. Jack reluctantly pulled away to finish stripping. Quickly at first, then slowing when he caught the glint in your eye, his own hunger mirrored in your blown pupils. Hands worked diligently, watching you grow more and more impatient, stepping out of reach when you tried to help.
“I had to wait, you can wait.” He murmured, adding his shirt to the pile of clothing thrown behind him before settling on the bed to finish stripping. The leg came off, finally, but was left within reach. Wouldn’t want the damn thing getting in the way, didn’t plan to do much standing for a while either.
He fell heavy back onto you, pulling you back into a heated kiss, the pull of your lower lip on his teeth. The heat of his skin radiated in the inches between you, there was something electric in that space, a distant rolling of thunder. Then a flash of lightning, pure electricity, as his hand reached to slide along your bare stomach and slowly inching lower. His eyes solely focused on yours as he boke for air. All the different shades of brown and green eclipsed by black, swallowed by the need that was threatening to eat him alive.
Fingers once again finding their way against you, a satisfied noise escaping him when he felt just how much you needed him. Still needed more than the release that you had found downstairs, evidenced by the mess you had already made of your thighs. You could feel him twitch against your leg in response to your soft noise of pleasure. Helped wriggle out of your underwear when he tugged gently at the elastic.
A shadow passing very briefly over his features. His weight disappears from you, only to feel yourself pulled to the edge of the bed. Hands pressing your thighs apart making room for him, kneeling in front of you. If there was a question forming it was swallowed by the moan that ripped out of you, the first experimental flick of his tongue, followed by something closer to a growl than anything else.
“Been too long.” The scratch of his beard against your things briefly as he trailed kisses along them.
The heat of his breath against you then his tongue was on you, slowly deliberately. That desperate noise reverberated from him again as a desperate hand tangled in his hair. It didn’t take long for him to bring you to the edge. Devouring you like he would never get to again, like the way you moved against him, your hand tangled in his hair, all of it would disappear once he pulled away.
But he did pull away to trace over your clit. Eyes locked onto yours, now focused solely on getting you to finish on his tongue. It was practiced as much as needly, savoring every second. Eyes shutting when he coaxed your release, his name falling from your lips over and over again, each iteration more desperate. Movements becoming lazy almost as he drank you in, only pulling away, chin glistening, when you gave a whine and an insistent tug of his hair.
His weight settling back against you heavily, the press of his painfully hard cock against your thigh, a hand trailing up your thigh, a finger followed quickly by another, stretching you open still. Another desperate sound from your lips as your hips rolled against the movement.
“Still so needy.” It was a whisper, maybe not even meant to be said out loud. Words wouldn’t come to you, instead a whimper and a roll of your hips, arching against him, needing more. Not just inside you, but against you, needed to feel all of him against your skin.
“Want more?” rasped against your ear, sending a humming jolt of electricity down your spine. The deliberate grind of his hard cock against your leg. “Want me, that it?”
You nodded desperately, nails digging into his back. A keening whine escaping the back of your throat, fingers brushing perfectly against the spot that always sent fire through your veins. A teasing brush of his thumb over your clit, not enough, not nearly enough.
“You can still talk, right? Use your words.” Another broken whine when his touch lessened and the need burned hotter, molten desire flowing through you.
“Jack, please.” A gasping breath and when the only response you received was a raised eyebrow. “Please, I need you.”
“I’m right here.” Teeth against the shell of your ear, another roll of his hips, “What more do you need?”
Something between frustration and pleasure escaped you as the teasing touches became a practiced, patient circle that made you arch and squirm. Pleasure coiled below your gut, that familiar coil wound too tight, screaming to be let go. You still wanted, needed more, needed him inside you. He knew it, beneath the hunger and the want was that frustratingly smug confidence that he only seemed to get when he had you like this.
“Fuck me. Please.” Shame long abandoned somewhere in the depths of those darkened hazel eyes.
He was off you, the absence of him making your suddenly too cold, too empty body arch, chasing after him. Only to be pressed back into the mattress a second later, the drag of his tip against you, thrusting shallowly against your ruined entrance, just shy of pushing into you. “All you had to say.”
Before you could respond he was pushing into you, head falling into your shoulder. “Always so tight for me. Fuck.”
He started slow, dragging himself almost all the way out before pushing back into you, inch by inch. Drinking in every reaction, the way your breath caught, the way your eyes widened. It had been too damn long since he had been able to have you like this, been able to have you like this.
When he has his fill of the slow push into you and the soft breathy noises it pulled out of you in the quiet room he adjusted, pulling back as much as his position over you would allow. Your legs over those broad shoulders the next instant, pulled flush to let him press into you again. Blunt nails digging into the soft skin of your thighs his own groan mixing with whatever sinful noise escaped you.
Head pressing almost too perfectly inside you, vision blurring as he set an unrelenting pace, head heavy, his breathing positively ragged. Your back curved, back off the mattress, his hands pulling you flush. Sweat running in thin trails across his arms, muscles flexed to keep you where he needed you.
It wasn’t long before your feet met the starkly cold mattress, knees pressed into your own shoulders, arms falling either side of you to cage you.
“Let me feel you, come on.” Another snap of his hips against yours. “Need to feel you come apart.”
You were on the edge, white hot pleasure wound so tight it almost hurt. Your eyes screwed shut, head thrown back and trying to focus on the sensation. Until a too warm hand was pressed against your cheek.
“Look at me.” Your eyes snapped open, matching his. Tears clouding your vision as pleasure built, watching him focused solely on you. “That’s it, so close, fuck- so close.”
His hand fell away to help support his weight, his chest flush with yours, sweat sticking you together, ragged breaths fanning over your face, your neck, your shoulders as he kissed and sucked the exposed skin he could reach.
The occasional scape of teeth as you fluttered around him, walls clenching, urging him deeper, faster. Whatever pace you had before had been abandoned for the desperate chase of release as the coiling tension snapped with earth shattering finality. There was nothing in the world but you, Jack and the bed cradling you in his embrace. Your voice broke, a string of oh fucks mingling with moans that could have been an attempt at his name, the syllables disrupted, ruined as thoroughly as you felt.
You were lost in the fog when Jack came, his own voice failing him, buried as deep as he could be, letting your release rip his own from him. Letting himself fall heavily against you, soft kisses pressed against your sticky skin. His eyes falling closed as your heart hammered against his ribs, your arms pushed against him. He didn’t move, didn’t want to help you move him either, Jack was perfectly happy to lay here for the rest of the night.
“Jack” You were laughing, god you had such a pretty laugh. “I have to get up at least.”
“Give me a minute.” His face was still buried in the crook of your neck, doing his level best to drown in your scent. Warm and familiar and so inviting. He could stay here forever, softening inside you and pressed together.
“Come on old man, I’ll help you get to the shower.” He pushed himself up with a groan. Sweaty skin feeling apart and he pulled out of you. grabbing the first piece of clothing he could find to help deal with the mess he had made of you.
“One of these days we’ll be prepared.” You took the offered clothing from his hand. “You’d think the military man would be ready for anything.”
“If we start taking fire I’ll cover you.” He scoffed, getting himself to the edge of the bed. “Not my fault you can’t keep your hands to yourself.”
“You started it this time.” Your protest was punctuated by the gentle creaks of the bed as you forced sore, shaking muscles to carry your weight.
You weren’t far behind him though, sitting up carefully, considering you had to actually sleep in this bed after this. Slipping past him to get yourself a little more cleaned up and get the shower started, fully aware that you would take longer than he would to get presentable.
Jack was watching the city lights on the edge of the bed when you finally emerged, half dressed and practically steaming from the heat of the shower. His head cocked when he heard you padding over the carpet behind him but he kept his eyes on the window.
Only looking over at you when you settled yourself against him, hand tracing across his back. You didn’t say anything, knew him well enough to know he was thinking about something and just needed the quiet.
A slow breath, nervous even though he probably shouldn’t be, this wasn’t even top ten for most stressful moments in your relationship. But if he didn’t say it now he was worried there wouldn’t be another time. “I know I haven’t said it exactly, but” A pause, another deep breath, “you know that I love you right? Because I do. So much.”
Silence, a yawning chasm that he was dangling over, hovering midair like a cartoon character before they realized the road had been stripped away from them. “Of course I know you do Jack. You don’t have to say it.”
Your face lit up, tears in the corner of your eyes. The softest smile you had ever given him. “And I love you too.” The chasm closed, his feet back on solid ground, no more fear of falling.
He kissed you again, soft and slow, holding you to him, committing this to memory, willing this moment to be burned into his memory forever. When he pulled away your eyes were still misty, but also still so warm. Turning your attention back to the bathroom before glancing back at him.
“You also failed to mention that we have that incredible bath by the way. We could fit like four of me in there” You pointed over his shoulder.
“I didn’t think I needed to.” Eyebrow raising, fighting outright laughing at you.
“Maybe we check that out before we go to bed?” There was a hint of that pleading tone, the one he would never admit made his resolve crumble.
“Solid plan.” Feeling your weight dip off the bed followed by the sound of running water. The thought entered his mind that he was still probably the luckiest guy in the whole fucking building tonight.
#the pitt fanfiction#dr jack abbot x reader#x female reader#the pitt#fanfiction#jack abbot x reader#jack abbot#hbo the pitt
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The 4 Horseman of my 4 husband's and my personal hell (editing)




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Hey, why do you keep calling me? What's going on with her? Is she crying again? What'd you say? Well, I'd be crying, too. She's at this different school, and those kids are a bunch of fuckfaces. Hold on. Hold on! Can I just talk to her, please? THE BEAR, 1.02 "Hands"
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jack abbot going into dunkin’ to buy shen a coffee but he forgets the word “iced” and asks for caramel latte macchiato “on the rocks”
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Honestly I think Shawn, a grown man, can stand up for himself lol
“He’s a grown man, he can stand up for himself.”
Right—but that response isn’t as neutral as you think. It’s a deflection. A way of shifting responsibility for boundary enforcement back onto the individual who’s been placed in an uncomfortable position, rather than asking why he was put there in the first place.
Because this isn’t about whether Shawn Hatosy—or Pedro Pascal, or any other man—can assert a boundary. It’s about how we’ve created a culture that expects them not to. It’s about how consent is routinely ignored, overwritten, or turned into a joke in public space—especially when it comes to men, especially when it’s dressed up as irony, “feminist thirst,” or progressive kink-positivity.
It’s about the refusal to admit that consent isn’t just about sex.
Consent is about presence. It’s about participation. It’s about emotional safety. And it’s about power.
And that matters in every context—including fandom, celebrity culture, and the increasingly blurred space between admiration and projection.
When you call a male celebrity “daddy” in the middle of an interview—on camera, unprompted, fully aware it’ll go viral—you’re not giving a harmless compliment. You’re placing him inside a sexualized, hierarchical, kink-coded role, and demanding a performance. You’re not inviting him into a shared dynamic. You’re building one around him and daring him to resist.
And that’s not just parasocial behavior. That’s coercion. Coercion dressed up in a clickbait blazer and a winking “teehee.”
And patriarchy? Patriarchy loves that. Because patriarchy has always taught us that men, especially older, stoic, men, aren’t allowed to have boundaries. That they should be flattered by sexual attention. That their discomfort is a flaw in the man, not a failure of the situation. That a man’s silence means yes.
So when a male celebrity tenses up or shifts uncomfortably after being called “daddy,” we don’t pause. We dismiss him. We say:
“Come on, it’s just a joke.”
“He’s hot. He can take it.”
“It’s part of the job.”
That’s not the language of consent. That’s the language of normalized entitlement.
Now compare that to when I commented on Shawn Hatosy’s TikTok and said he was “so babygirl-coded.” And he liked it.
Why? Because “babygirl,” as it functions in contemporary online fan culture, isn’t built on dominance or performance. It doesn’t demand control. It doesn’t assign erotic authority. It’s a term that signals affection, vulnerability, softness—a playful, sometimes absurd, often tender reverence for men who deviate from traditional masculinity.
That kind of language lives within fandom culture—inside our sandboxes. And when I call someone “babygirl-coded,” that person can ignore it, engage with it, scroll past, or opt in. There’s no pressure. It’s an aesthetic label, not a demand. So when Shawn likes that comment, he’s participating on his own terms. That’s what parasocial consent looks like: voluntary, pressure-free, and rooted in choice.
Now imagine if I had written, “You’re such a daddy. Ruin me.” Totally different tone. Totally different power dynamic. Even if he never saw it, I’d still be inserting a kink-coded script into a public space as if he had agreed to it. And if he had seen it and felt uncomfortable? The onus would fall on him to disengage quietly or laugh it off, because culturally, we’ve given men almost no tools to say “no” without backlash.
Feminist methodology asks better questions:
Whose comfort is protected?
Whose silence is treated as consent?
Whose body is seen as public property?
Whose boundaries get overwritten for the sake of the bit?
We know the answers. They’re gendered. And they’re broken.
When a man is called “daddy” during a press tour, he’s not being asked to play. He’s being expected to perform, sexually, powerfully, on command. And if he doesn’t? The consequences aren’t just social, they’re structural. He’s seen as less fun. Less marketable. Less valuable as content.
That isn’t just unfair. It’s anti-consensual.
As Sara Ahmed writes, to be the one who names a problem is so often to become the problem. The one who says “this feels off,” “this crosses a line,” or simply, “this makes me uncomfortable” is marked as difficult, humorless, or ungrateful. We see this dynamic unfold constantly with male celebrities—especially those who don’t laugh when called “daddy” in person, or who subtly resist being pulled into a sexualized performance they didn’t agree to.
When a man sets a boundary, even quietly, he disrupts the fantasy. And instead of asking what created the discomfort, the culture asks why he couldn't just go along. Because admitting that men can say no, that they’re allowed to feel uneasy, that they don’t exist for our projection, requires challenging the very entitlement fandom often runs on.
So let’s be clear: You can thirst. You can spiral. You can bark, cry, and post your little essays about his shoulders in peace. You can call him whatever in your sandbox corner of the internet.
But forcing someone into your kink-coded fantasy in person, without their consent, and then reacting negatively when they don’t play along, isn’t empowering. It’s not subversive. It’s just public boundary crossing, dressed up as flirtation.
It’s not “owning the gaze.” It’s replicating it—just with the roles reversed.
And reversing the roles isn’t the same as dismantling them.
Roles—no matter how ironic or reversed—are still roles. And assigning someone a role without their participation isn’t liberation. It’s just performance under pressure.
So yes, he’s a grown man.
And that’s exactly why his boundaries matter—especially because he’s not just a celebrity, but a real person, and a parent. Being called “daddy” in person, during a professional setting, isn’t just awkward—it’s an unsolicited invitation into a kink-coded dynamic he didn’t agree to. And when that man is a father in real life, the term becomes even more jarring, blurring roles in a way that’s neither funny nor flattering. His visibility shouldn’t come with the expectation that he absorb sexual projection or emotional labor just to keep the mood light. Silence is not consent. And feminist ethics, if we’re actually practicing them, demand more than clever thirst and role reversal. They require awareness, accountability, and respect for boundaries, no matter who you’re talking to or how attractive you think they are.
And if your only defense is “He can take it,” you’ve already admitted he might not want it, and decided you didn’t care.
That’s not fandom. That’s entitlement. Wrapped in a punchline and passed off as progressive. (referencing this interview)
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Stupid idea I had based loosely on what's happening with my actual grumpy old man of a boyfriend.
Jack talking to his younger girlfriend and just casually dropping slang he should not know.
"So I told him that's cap and-"
"I'm sorry, that's what?"
"You don't know what cap means?"
"Who taught you that."
He never admits who did it and it keeps getting worse. He's learning shit she doesn't even know. Of course it's a collective night shift effort, encouraged by Jack just to torment her.
#jack abbot#dr jack abbot x reader#jack abbot x reader#stupid little headcanon#jack would be such a menace
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When bootcamp starts how many people do you think it's going to take to get his phone away from him?
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Public Service Announcement
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Absolutely Not
One of these days I'll find out how to meet a doctor without an injury. This isn't that day. also can't stop talking about Jack even when I try to, so sorry
Paring: Robby x f!reader
Summary: Someone is being haunted by the roof of the hospital. You happened to be haunted by the roof at your parents. We've all heard of brother's best friend but what about uncle's best friend? Aka the reader eats it off the roof helping out at home and happens to be one Dr Jack Abbot's only niece.
Warnings: Some 18+ content (mdni), Mentions of Injury, twist on dbf dynamics, age gap, doctor/patient but very light, female reader, having Jack as an uncle, no beta I'm dying like a man (also my beta reader is going through it)
Word count: 6.5k
It had been a few long weeks since the night from hell that had been Pittfest. The department had slowly recovered. Robby could feel the general shift towards the positive, towards healing even in himself. It was more evident in the way normalcy returned to the long, taxing days playing catch up.
Today was no different. It was mid afternoon and decently warm, which meant they had already seen a handful of injuries related to home improvement, it was something you came to expect once the ladders and hammers were broken out every spring through mid summer. As if on cue the moment a space opened an ambulance rolled into the bay.
“Twenty nine year old woman, fell off the roof during a home renovation.” New med students also meant the occasional spike in new paramedics, this one among the new and unfamiliar faces.
“Any medical history that would maybe cause the fall?” He met them at the bay doors, leading them into the opened room.
“Other than genetic clumsiness none. No underlying medical history or anything in the immediate family” A second voice spoke over the paramedic. A far too familiar voice. Dressed in jeans and an old t-shirt Jack had half jogged to catch up to the bed. His hand white knuckled on the hand rail as he caught it, focused solely on the younger woman laying in it.
“I can also talk.” The poor girl on the bed shot a look over her shoulder, wincing almost immediately at the movement.
“That is a fair point” His attention focused back on the patient. “Any medications or allergies we should worry about.”
A shake of the head, and he nodded, before counting out your move to the hospital bed. An agonized noise followed and Robby didn’t miss the way his college winced. “Jack, get yourself some coffee, come back when she’s settled.”
The other man made no effort to move or even acknowledge that Robby had spoken to him, his eyes locked on yours. When you were little your dad had insisted your uncle could connect telepathically when he looked at you like that, and right now you really were starting to wonder if there was any truth to it. The burning worry in those eyes was as clear as if he had spoken out loud.
“I'll be okay Uncle Jack” You offered him something more of a grimace than a smile. He lingered but let himself be pulled away by a nurse you weren’t sure you recognized.
“Oh I don’t like that” Robby was also watching the pair of them disappear from sight. “Seeing Jack with family is like seeing your teacher outside of school.”
“Try seeing him panic.” You laughed, wincing immediately in response “All my life he's been the rock, one nasty fall and you'd think the world was ending. Never seen someone go white so fast.”
“Most people don't come off the other side of the roof in a joking mood.” He caught your eye, catching the faintest hint of amusement behind the pain.
“My dad likes to say we got all the funny bones.” Another wince as he put pressure on your ribs.
“Not the lucky ones apparently.” That got him an actual laugh, followed by a hiss of pain.
“Laughing hurts, put that in the chart or whatever doctors do.” You were still fighting laughter, tight and painful sounding mixed with pain.
“I will make a note that until we get you properly medicated nobody should make a bad joke in your presence.” You fought off your laughter this time around, wincing slightly. It was the first time he caught the way amusement sparkled in your eyes, unfairly attractive in the too bright overhead lights.
Robby ignored that, ignored the way your eyes tracked his movements. You were a patient. Not to mention Jack’s niece and he could not be distracted by those damn eyes, intense and laser focused, and far too pretty for someone he was supposed to be professional around.
“I will be back when we have better answers and some of those medications have kicked in.” His hand landed on the rail of the bed, stopping himself from the impulse to pat your leg on the way out onto the floor. Catching himself before he did so, “I am also realizing that I didn’t introduce myself, Doctor Robinavich but please it would be incredibly weird to hear anything other than Robby from Jack’s family.”
“I’ve heard a lot about you then, mostly good.” There was something in that smile that he pretended didn’t make the back of his ears burn as he left.
You would be waiting for a while, which was unfortunate for him, fortunate for you since it meant that you weren’t in immediate danger of dying based on how early labs had come back. He was relieved that it wasn’t a worse case. The thought of keeping Jack calm if you were actually in danger wasn’t something he wanted to consider.
While he waited he used the excuse of other cases to keep himself busy, glancing in every time he passed by, always seeming to catch you looking in any other direction than at him. Either watching the nurses station or focused on the finer details of your room. Never at the doctor circling past your room.
Jack himself rematerialized almost too soon from his coffee run. Robby spotted him leaning against the counter, cup in hand and his phone to his ear. “She's in good hands.” A pause. “You know I can't do that. Medicine gets messy when it's personal. Look, get down here safe and then we can talk. I promise I'm keeping an eye on her”
He sighed, watching you through the glass of the doors. “He leaves me with her for five minutes while he runs to get dinner. She has to lose her footing and take a fall.” A hand scrubbed over his face. “Her mom is going to murder me.”
“You got her down here, that's worth something.” Robby made an effort not to steal another glance when he spoke, his gaze focusing instead on the tablet in his hands.
“How's she looking?” He didn’t turn around, staring at his coffee cup like it could undo his afternoon.
“It's not great. But we’ll know more when imaging comes back. So far she’s holding vitals better than I would have expected.” Adding, more to change the subject than out of actual interest. “Your brother or sister's kid?”
“Brother's. He was the one on the phone, he's on the way but it might take a minute with traffic.” Still stiff and almost unwilling to look at his friend as they talked.
“We'll make sure she's taken care of while we're waiting.” He finally let himself look back at you, alone and watching the pair of them through the glass. “You can go see her if you want.” Robby gave a jerk of the head towards you laying in the trauma bay.
Wordlessly Jack walked away that furrow in his brow never fully leaving. Robby watched the door slide open, Jack’s focused effort not to read the screens as he talked with you, a hand on the arm rail of the bed. The way your hand circled around his, and some of the tension left his shoulders when you did. The way his head fell forwards, guilt impossible to miss even if he had been a stranger.
“No pressure on this one.” Dana was at his side, watching him more than the pair of you in the room.
“She’s lucky, how lucky depends on how these x-rays come back.” His arms folded uneasily across his chest, unwilling to look over at her.
“I wouldn’t want to be the one to break the news to the family if her luck doesn’t hold.” That got him to turn his head, eye focusing on her before answering.
“You and me both.” Robby sighed, forcing himself to move on, orders were in and there wasn’t much else that he could offer. He also didn’t know if the anxious energy rolling off of Jack would infect him as well, and that wouldn’t do anyone any good.
He hadn’t made a full pass through the other rooms when he was called back to yours, results ready in hand. He also had the joy of meeting a very stressed out father, standing beside Jack and gently brushing a stray hair from your face.
Some part of his mind made the connections that he had missed while he was focusing on getting you comfortable, and making sure you weren’t dying on them. Small shared details between the three of you. It was a little unsettling that he also happened to notice that you had a very pretty smile as you laughed, especially now that your pain was being managed. The thought was swept away as soon as it entered his mind. He would never recover from it if this did not go perfectly, especially with Jack hovering around. Which was the other fantastic reason he could not be caught watching you.
Opening the door cut the conversation short, attention solely on him. Another reminder that you were related, all the details connecting like yarn on a sting board in the back of his mind. Your father stepped forward first, taller than his brother, a little border. His hair may be a little more grey. “How is she? Will she need surgery?” His arms folded, an eerie mirror of Jack at his shoulder.
“Oh nothing so exciting. We're looking at four fractured ribs and a break here” He indicated the x-ray, “in the Radius. Your head and neck scans came back clear and overall you are very lucky.” He addressed you first before looking between the three of you, trying very hard not to let his eyes linger on your face too long when he delivered the news. Ignoring that you didn’t look away when he did, that your eyes focused only on him even when your father turned back to you. “You’ll be going home tonight, we’ll keep you for a little longer just to be safe, let ortho take a better look at you. But you’ll be able to rest up better at home than here.”
“How long will it be for her to heal?” Jack drew attention, like always. A polite doctor’s version of asking how bad it actually was without making it worse for his family.
“I’m going to check my estimates once we get her up stairs for follow up conults but I’m going to say ten maybe twelve weeks depending on how well the body heals.” That got a nod in response.
“I will send someone down shortly to get you a bed upstairs and we will go from there.” His eyes finding yours again turning to face you. “I’ll see if I can’t put some pressure on them, get you all home sooner rather than later.”
“Thank you Doctor Robby.” You smiled as you said it, the kind that radiated genuine warmth. He forced himself to leave the room, a polite smile, a nod and back to central. He could feel the heat racing up his neck, feel color staining his cheeks, forever grateful he decided to grow the beard out.
Mercifully he didn’t have time to examine whatever reaction that was to just a smile. He was pulled onto another case almost as soon as he left the room, stopping only to make sure someone got you off the floor before he needed to check back in.
He was drawn back over sooner than he would have liked the sound of a, unfortunately not uncommon, family argument drawing eyes across the floor as he walked between rooms not even fifteen minutes later.
“Jack, come on.” Your father's voice cutting through the noise of the floor.
“I can’t. I keep telling you, we’ve got plans that week.” Arms folded, unblinking as he met his brother's glare with one of cold indifference.
“Can’t you cancel? We can’t get a refund on this trip.” A pleading note in the way he pressed the issue.
“What’s the issue here?” Robby interjected, looking between the pair of them being reminded painfully of an unstoppable force and an immovable object.
“My brother wants me to cancel one of the most important trips of my life because his fully capable adult daughter fell off his roof.” He didn’t look away, didn’t move. “So he and his wife can visit Greece.”
“I just don’t want her left alone while we’re gone. Do you?” The blow landed, based on the way Jack scowled.
“Hire someone then.” Anger finally seeped into the controlled tone he had managed to keep.
“I can swing by, if it’s really that big of a deal. Call Jack and I even for some favors? Save you some money?” He said it without really thinking. “It would have to be after my shifts when I’m working but it wouldn’t be an issue.”
“You would do that?” Relief slipping into the older man’s frustrated tone, glancing back at Jack like he expected his input.
“Let’s see if we even think it will be that serious. I’ve got ortho on the case and we’ll take it from there. Once we get her home it should be easy to see how she manages on her own” He glanced at Jack, the stiffness of his posture.
Had he thrown it out there to stop the whispered argument in the hallway? Mostly. There was some truth in still owing Jack a favor or two. If he was honest with himself, which was a rarity, it was also to spare you from having the guilt. Someone’s week was going to be ruined and it might as well be his.
Maybe ruined wasn’t the right word. Disrupted fit a little more accurately. He wouldn’t be able to disappear into solitude for a few hours after work, but maybe that wasn’t the worst option. It also meant that he could maybe leverage his friend for another favor after this. It was easy to ignore the small voice in his head that meant that it would also be an excuse to see you again, not at the hospital.
Weeks passed and he had almost forgotten about Jack’s niece and the unexpected trip to the ER. Almost. But man did your smile seem to want to replay in his head at the worst possible moment. For example when Jack had stopped him on his way out the door, annoyance was as easy to read in his posture as ever.
“I’m supposed to ask if you really are okay stopping by to see if the kid needs anything.” He scoffed. “I would just say that I had and leave it alone. But my sister in law can be a real detective when she wants to be. I don’t need the lecture if she finds out I didn’t bother.”
“Just for a few nights?” He could make that work. Mostly.
“Just a few nights. I think they’ve run out of people to ask.” He sighed, stress clearly weighing on him as his own trip approached.
“She doesn't have any friends who can swing by?” It was a weak attempt to get out of this, the way you had said his name replaying in his head unhelpfully.
“You can just say no Robby.” He could say no, could walk it back and point out that someone else really should be the one to do it.
“I offered. I can do it.” Or he could double down, imagine some other guy helping you get comfortable in bed, your arms around his neck when it could be him. Then shake that image from his head as quickly as it had manifested.
“I'll send you her number then.” This was a terrible idea, if he couldn’t handle the idea of it should he even stop by?
“Good luck tonight.” Jack scoffed at that, disappearing deeper into the department, sparing him a scornful look. Robby headed out ready to collapse and pretend that he wasn’t a little excited about the idea.
He sent out a text on the walk home, nothing too serious. Letting you know it was him and he was willing to come by your place, if you still even needed him. Giving you an easy, inoffensive out if you didn’t want to have an old man come by your apartment.
It hadn't taken long for you to reply with your address once his text came through. Letting him know you'd get him spare keys by the end of the week so he would be able to let himself in when he could come by. Come Thursday, true to your word, he had an apartment key in his hand with the address scribbled on a piece of paper delivered by a tired looking Jack.
When the shift finally came to the end a few days later Robby mentally prepared for the night to come. He was sure it would be fine. He was overthinking this, like always. Catching the T down to the block you were on was easy enough, a surprisingly short ride from the hospital to a decent complex lined with townhomes.
Taking a breath before opening the door. The inside was nice, what he expected from a young woman living alone. He took in the entryway for a moment, noticing all the little things that gave him a glimpse at who you were. Pictures hung from the walls in your apartment, and as if he needed a reminder that you were too young for someone like him and who you were related to. One caught his eye immediately, a much younger Jack in his dress uniform holding you in his arms at what must have been five or six. It was surreal, a disconnect in the wires in his head. Like looking into a past he hadn’t been invited into, a snapshot of something that he knew existed but had never experienced.
“It's a good one. I think I have one somewhere of him holding me in the hospital in his uniform. Or maybe that's at his place?” Robby startled at the sound of your voice. “I know it exists.” You shrugged.
“What was the occasion?” He studied the too dark picture as if it would answer instead of you.
“Some school thing. My dad had a work trip and Uncle Jack was home on leave so my mom asked if he would take me.” You moved closer, leaning past his shoulder to get a better look, just shy of pressing against his back.
“Bet he loved that.” Robby scoffed examining the photo. “But it must have been nice to have someone there.”
“It was, but try finding out that your childhood best friend is now married to an army vet because of it.” You pointed at another photo. Here you were standing between a couple, the man also in his dress uniform. “She told me he changed her brain chemistry as a kid. Never took her seriously until she married Zach. She always wanted to sleep over when I mentioned Uncle Jack was in town.”
You moved back down the hallway, a gentle nod of the head encouraging him to follow further into your apartment. He did so obediently, taking in more photos of you through the years, with friends and family as you grew older. Taking in the personality that oozed from the walls and decorations around the apartment.
You had settled easily onto the couch while Robby trailed behind you, glancing around uncertainly. Trying his damndest to not notice the way your shorts had slid up your thighs or the way you winced when you leaned forward to adjust them a moment later.
“You can sit down.” You threw your head back on the couch to look at him lingering in the hallway. “I’ve just been watching bad TV with my uncle and mom the past few weeks. Dad is getting work done for the trip.”
He did sit, after a moment of agonizing over it. Settling down as far away as he could. He wanted to sit next to you, sit as close as you would let him. He was only moderately disappointed that his resolve was crumbling, he hadn’t been holding on all that well at the hospital. Here in your apartment that smelled like you and whatever candle was burning on the table, it was bound to be more of a draw.
Your eyes tracked his movements, he could feel your eyes on him, something he hated and loved at the same time. It took a few episodes of your trash TV show for him to relax fully. Feeling himself drawn into the onscreen drama even though he really didn’t want to be, finally finding his voice. “You watch this?”
“Not normally, but I am out of media to consume and this is something my friend loves.” You shrugged “At least you let me watch it, Mom and Uncle Jack make me turn it off as soon as they get here.”
So Robby planted himself and suffered through every trash reality show episode you had in you before your yawns became more and more frequent, your head falling into your hand and propped up by the arm of the couch next to you. When the credits finally rolled you clicked the TV off, the room becoming suddenly much darker.
“You can stay if you don’t want to head back this late.” You didn’t give him the chance to answer before continuing. “Everyone else has been using my bed. It’s easier for me to sleep on the couch, at least right now.” You said it all very fast, like you had to get it out or you’d never forgive yourself.
“If you want me to stick around I can.” He had been half prepared to stay if you needed him an hour ago, the comfortable couch mixed with being allowed to just be mostly undisturbed, had pulled him closer to sleep than he had expected to be. The reasonable voice in the back of his head reminded him that this was maybe a bad idea, but the idea of not having to leave to go to bed was winning out over it pretty easily.
“I wouldn’t have offered if I didn’t want you here.” A pause, a sudden flash of panic across your features. “Not that I want you here. I just meant that I wouldn’t mind if you wanted to stay.”
“I knew what you meant.” He was willing to pretend he hadn’t but that was a different conversation, one he needed to have with himself for what felt like the hundredth time tonight. “What do I need to help with?”
It was easy enough to get you settled on the couch and comfortable with the promise that he would have his phone on him if you needed anything from him while he was upstairs. Once he was sure you were good he made his way up the surprisingly steep steps to your second floor. His focus on the steps he almost missed the contuniting span of photos of what must be your family. Old photos of you with your father and uncle seemed to be more common than any others.
One in the hallway caught his attention, you with who he assumed was your mother at a Pirates game, your arms around each other. It must have been pretty recent based on the photo quality. You were toasting the scoreboard with a beer, showing a Cincinnati win that must have been some time last season.
Robby pulled himself away from the photos and made himself finally push the door to your room open. If he had doubted that your bed had been used by others it took a glance down to the dresser to see one of what had to be a pair of Jack's scrub pants kicked against it, gloves still sticking out of one of the pockets. Setting himself on the end of the bed it hit him again where he was and what he was doing.
His sole comfort was that he had kept his cool and had not tipped his hand, at least he had hoped so. He was going to be fine. He had made it this far and not made a complete ass out of himself, which was saying something. A few more days and he would be free to return to pushing you out of his head. So far so good, nothing had gone sideways on him.
Night three is when it inevitably went sideways. It had been nice getting to actually sit and talk to someone who wasn’t actually in medicine. He imagined it was like when parents made non-parent friends.They could talk about anything they wanted. Like how your mother had raised you incorrectly as a Reds fan, hence the offending John Smiley jersey you were wearing when he walked in. That also connected with the photo he found himself glancing at every night before he crashed in your bed, drowning in the scent of you, letting you invade his normally miserable dreams.
He had let his guard down, because man did it feel good to just be Michael for a while with someone else. There wasn’t any pressure when you just wanted someone to talk to while a movie played in the background. He might not have noticed the way he slowly shifted closer to you, every shift on the couch pulling him just that tiny bit closer. You on the other hand were very aware, feeling your heart rate pick up every agonizing inch. Praying he didn't change his mind as he got closer and closer.
He was too old for you, not the same age as your dad but close enough really. He worked with your fucking uncle. By all accounts he was off limits, you should have been off limits. But something in you melted the second those warm brown eyes had found yours that first night he stopped in.
It didn’t help that you admittedly really liked him. The man was too funny for his, and maybe your, own good. This whole mess probably had the makings of a crush when you left the hospital. It likely would have turned into something at some point, maybe longing glances every time you saw him. A school girl’s daydream about the handsome doctor you met once upon a time.
But then he was in your apartment, leaving the scent of the hospital and his shampoo on your couch. He had insisted on actually taking you to a baseball game this season, and promised that it would be better than watching it on your parent’s TV and having to hear them bicker over teams while you sat between them. It might even top the last time you took a trip to Cinci with your mom to see a game. Something to look forward to while you rotted on the damn couch the next few weeks.
Your leg brushed the fabric of his pants and you were snapped out of your spiralling thoughts that only seemed to point to the obvious. That you were doomed from the moment you fell off the fucking roof. The second those rich brown eyes had focused on yours you were almost certain to fall for him. You knew it, had known you didn't stand a chance when he showed up at your door, giving up his free time to make sure you were okay for your family.
You hadn’t moved nearly as much as he had, you were still mostly sitting on the couch cushion you had begun on. Robby had inched most of the way to meet you, seemingly also realizing what had happened. Shifting his weight away from you. Your hand landed on his knee, a silent ask for him not to move. That simple action freezing him in place, testing his resolve. For the life of him he couldn't make his body move away from you. It was just so damn nice to have some human connection outside of work, outside of everything else.
It couldn’t be called cuddling, it was more two people sitting closer than they needed to on the couch, nothing wrong with that, just two adults finishing their stupid TV show in quiet comfort. Nevermind that he could feel the way his heart was racing and was drowning in the scent of you. So the pair of you stayed like that for the rest of that night, until you had to fight to keep your eyes open, head occasionally threatening to dip onto his shoulder before you caught yourself.
The next night was electric from the moment he walked through the door. Something had shifted between you, the acceptance that you might actually want him, not just appreciate the kindness of some poor old man.
Despite the normal exhaustion after a shift there was this anxious sort of energy while he fished your spare keys from his bag. The sort of charge that filled the air before a massive storm front rolled through. Robby found you where he always did, lounging on the couch, half paying attention to the TV, half distracted by your phone. Tonight you at least seemed more alert than you had been the other nights he stopped by. Considering you were on your fourth week of rest he couldn’t really blame you.
“Productive day?” He slid his shoes off, setting them next to his bag by the door.
“As productive as desk work from my couch can be.” You had already set the phone to the side, all your focus now on him. The space he had carved into your tiny isolated recovery bubble growing a little bigger as he took his usual seat letting the ache of twelve hours of being on his feet fade.
You were in the middle of some garbage movie that had looked like it would at least be a fun type of bad, this however was just bad. The plot made next to no sense and you still weren’t sure if there was even a main character you were supposed to be rooting for in all the absurdity that was playing out on screen.
By the time the third act started he had you tucked under his arm, more deliberately than the night before, a little more confident in the act. But he still had the nagging feeling that this was actually a bad idea, the nagging thought that this could blow up in his face in so many different ways.
You didn't seem to have the same worries he did. He caught you watching him more and more as the stupid movie rolled on in the background. Finding new ways to get just a little closer, testing where the line was. Embarrassingly enough he didn’t seem to have one, he let you lean against him as much as your healing body would tolerate. He said nothing while fingers traced patterns absently against his leg.
When the credits rolled he took the remote from your limp grasp, “You have lost your rights to this while I’m here.”
You reached across him for the stupid thing, or as much as you could tolerate reaching. Pressing your body impossibly closer. Your breath fanning across his skin, “it's my TV though.”
He looked down as you spoke, making it painfully clear just how close you two were, faces just inches from each other. You moved first, the gentle tilt of your head, the slow inch forward. His eyes breaking from yours to glance at your lips, that familiar creep of red marching across his features.
“You sure? no promises that you're going to be able to take it back.” The words ghosted between you. Head still cocked to let you in, if you wanted it. There was something in his tone, like maybe he wasn’t just warning you.
You didn't move, frozen just like he had the night before. You wanted this, you were pretty sure. At least you wanted to know what this could be, if he would let you. And of course he was going to let you, had only been able to think of you all day. He pressed forward taking one last deep breath before capturing your lips, sealing his fate. Helping keep your balance when his insistence threatened to push you underneath his weight, just managing to keep you upright and avoid your still tender ribs.
He broke the kiss with so much hesitation it felt like he was sure he'd never get to kiss anyone ever again, let alone you. His face flushed, eyes dilated. Forehead pressed against yours as a slow ragged breath escaped him before pressing another tender, burning kiss to your lips. An arm pulling you closer. Swearing you would be able to hear the way his blood rushed through his veins.
He shouldn't be doing this, really fucking shouldn't be doing this. But if that was the case then why did it feel so right to feel you pressed against him? The brush of your hands on his skin sure made it feel like something he should have been doing this whole time.
You shifted to face him better, which earned you a sharp aching stab in the chest. A pained hiss escaped you and that made him pause. Pulling away, you could almost see the doctor side of his brain kick into gear. The desperate momentum shattered in an instant.
It ached to watch him slide back on the couch. Assessing you carefully. “This might be proof that this was in fact a terrible idea.” Hands settling over sore ribs like he could soothe them with his touch. “Does it hurt now?”
A shake of your head “Just when I moved. I’m okay really.” A hand settled over his, almost too small as your fingers mapped his. “I’m ready for things to stop hurting when I step wrong though.”
“Shouldn’t be too much longer. Hopefully, bodies are complicated.” He knew that maybe he should pull away. Let you get more comfortable, but sitting here, knees touching and hands overlapping was just, nice. A tiny taste of human contact that he had been desperately missing recently, and reminded him that you wanted him too.
As if reading his mind your hand cupped his face, pulling him from his own head back into the moment. Leaning in once again you took the lead. Lips brushing his letting him guide you more gently. Your lips moved against his like you were trying to memorize every detail. Gentle and deliberate and slowly building in intensity.
You shifted again, letting him guide you down onto his lap, facing him without hurting yourself this time. His body heat pressing into the exposed skin of your legs, strong hands slid along your bare back, dancing beneath the fabric of your shirt.
Lost in each other the sharp sound of plastic cracking against the floor snapped his focus away from you. Hands stilling, catching himself working to unclasp your bra. The remote had tumbled from the arm of the couch snapping you both into the reality of the moment.
His hands shot away from you like he had been burned. Eyes wide in the dim light, an apology half formed on his lips when you kissed his cheek. “It’s not a terrible idea by the way.” whispered against his skin, that damn smile pulling at his heartstrings when you moved away, settling gingerly next to him on the couch. “At least it doesn’t feel like one yet.”
He had no idea what to say. What to do in this moment. He had felt like glass for weeks even before meeting you. Now it was like glass being spun with gold, something beautiful mixing with the shattered mess he felt like he had become. Robby was saved from answering when you suppressed a yawn.
“Do you want to lay down? It is getting late.” The subject change wasn’t lost on you, but the weight of exhaustion mixed with medication was bound to win out once again so you nodded.
He had stayed with you every night he had stopped by. Asleep in the bed that he shouldn't have ever seen. Robby hadn't expected it to be any different this time. So here he was in the doorway of the tiny half bath on the first floor of the apartment. Waiting for you to finish getting ready for bed.
Instead those tired eyes met his own. “Can we go upstairs?”
“We can” His arms folding across his chest, his head tilted as he studied you. “If you think you'll be comfortable enough up there.”
“I want to.” There was a familiar determination in your voice that he knew better than to argue against.
He nodded, arms uncrossing. It was easy to get you up the steps, cautiously following a beat or two behind. He ignored the photo in the hallway this time, focusing instead on helping you gently settle on the bed. Making sure you were propped up correctly against pillows, doing what he could to make you comfortable. You noticed the way your bed had started to take on the warm scent that Robby himself gave off, his presence lingered in every thread of the fabric, every crease in the sheets.
When he stepped back your hand caught his, your expression tired and vulnerable. The silent plea for him to stay up here with you. To try and lay in the same bed, just to see if it would even work. Against his better judgment he did, let himself settle gently beside you. Let you keep a hand resting against him after sleep took you.
He let himself stay over and over again while you recovered, then let you call when you had a hard time sleeping when you were finally alone in the apartment at night. Let you climb into his lap weeks after you were recovered, let himself leave marks across your skin. Let you get on your knees for him, let himself ruin your throat desperate and needy for you, your name on his lips when he came. Even when he was alone in his own home, spilling over his own hand.
He let the pattern continue. He came to you when work was too much, fell heavy into your arms and broke over and over again while you put him back together. You never judged him, never made him feel weak for needing you. You just held him, like he held you when things went wrong in your life. When a fight with a co-worker left you in tears he was the one who you called the door swinging open to let him pull you against him.
When that stupid fight got you fired unexpectedly he was the first one you called again, crying into his lap while he pushed hair from your face. Promising that it would all work out and they would regret letting you go.
Neither of you could agree when your first date was, not the official one anyways.You were certain that it was that promised baseball game. Robby was convinced that it was the night he came by after a hellish shift and you wound up getting take out, watching another of your terrible movies. It was only a matter of days apart but it was a hotly debated topic between the pair of you. The thing that mattered was that he had you, had you from the moment you were wheeled into that ER. Just like you had him from the second you smiled just for him from that hospital bed.
#michael robinavitch#michael robby robinavitch#the pitt x reader#the pitt fanfiction#x female reader#fanfiction#michael robinavich x reader
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Adding this photo of him leaning in after Noah and Katherine spoke. Just Shawn being Shawn



Look at my boy! I almost missed him presenting
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Look at my boy! I almost missed him presenting
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a friend told me that shawn hatosy is part hungarian, so naturally, so is jack abbot
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