gigiwritess

[gigiwritess]

oh my god I feel so honored to be in this list 😭🥰❤️

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.

[gigiwritess]

Hello darling, I was the one who asked about Fornight. I went to the link but none of the chapter links work and then went to your Masterlist other than “dr. jack abbot” none of the links work. It just says no post found.

Hey sweetheart! Thank you for letting me know. I think it has to do with me changing my username. I’ll fix it as soon as I can!

[gigiwritess]

the night after — jack abbot x fem!reader After celebrating someone’s birthday and getting absolutely wasted, you wake up naked next to your attending, Jack Abbot

warnings: Grey’s Anatomy Mer-der’s first meeting but in reverse—kind of—i guess not really, suggestive, mdni, 18+ only, sexual tension wc: 1.7k+ masterlist

You wake up with a pounding headache and a dry mouth. Your tongue feels like sandpaper, your head is foggy, and something doesn’t feel right. Your bed’s on the other side of the room, the AC is blasting colder than it normally does, and—fuck. You realize you’re not in your room. And there’s an arm draped over your waist.

Slowly, carefully, you turn your head. The sunlight spills through half-closed blinds, catching on the salt-and-pepper stubble of the man beside you. His mouth is slightly open, and his dark lashes flutter as he shifts in his sleep.

Your eyes widen and you put a hand over your mouth to stop the gasp from escaping.

Jack. Fucking. Abbot.

And you’re naked. Very naked. And so is he.

You squeeze your eyes shut, forcing your memory to rewind, praying this is just a dream. But the ache between your legs, the faint bruises on your hips, the marks on your shoulders, and the condom wrapper on the nightstand all point to the same conclusion.

You slept with Jack Abbot. Your attending.

The man who’s called you ‘kid’ and made your heart flutter over a hundred times since you started working with him.

“Oh my God,” you whisper, barely breathing.

Jack groans beside you and stretches a little, his voice still sleep-rough. “Morning.”

You go rigid.

He peeks one eye open, confused at first, then amused as the recognition hits him. “Well,” he says, voice annoyingly calm. “This is unexpected.”

You grab the sheet and pull it up to your chest like it’s armor, even though he’s seen everything last night. “We didn’t—did we…?”

He raises a brow, glancing down at your very much shared nudity. “I’d say the evidence is compelling.”

“Oh God.”

“Yeah, that’s what you kept screaming last night.” Jack props himself up on an elbow, not bothering to hide his smirk. “Along with my name.”

You gasp and hit him with a pillow.

He laughs, but his smile falters a little. “…Do you regret it?”

You stare at him.

You don’t know. Your brain is still catching up, replaying hazy flashes of last night, someone singing off-key, tequila shots, his hand on your lower back, the way he laughed when you leaned too far into him, his lips on your neck…

You start getting dressed, refusing to meet his eyes. “Our shift starts in 3 hours.”

Jack watches you, a quiet sigh escapes him. “Guess I’ll see you at work, then.”

You pause at the door. “Don’t tell anyone.”

He nods. “You got it.”

But the look he gives you—half smug, half something else you can’t place—follows you all the way home.

It follows you all the way to work, actually.

You’re doing hand-offs with Langdon but you keep feeling a pair of eyes on you. Every time you glance Jack’s way, he’s unapologetically staring—and every damn time, you’re the one who looks away first. Because damn him and his godly hazel eyes.

You sigh quietly and follow Langdon, but he catches it. “Something wrong?”

You raise your brow, “No, nothing. Just tired.”

He chuckles. “Yeah, I heard it was quite the party last night.”

Your eyes widen, and your head snaps toward him—but he doesn’t look suspicious. Just amused. You hadn’t considered the possibility of people seeing you and Jack leave together. Did anyone see? Did you two make out in front of everyone? Oh God.

“What—what did you hear exactly?”

He shrugs. “Oh you know, Whitaker dancing on the table, Javadi puking on the side…” And then he lowers to whisper in your ear, “You going back with someone…”

You gasp and take a step back, your face instantly going red. Langdon bursts into laughter, clapping you on the shoulder like he just scored a touchdown. As he walks away, you bury your face in your hands.

When you look up, Jack’s already watching you again. Brows furrowed because why does it look like you’re blushing from something Langdon said?

He starts heading your way.

And you panic.

If he talks to you right now, you might combust. So you pivot sharply and walk quickly toward triage, pretending you suddenly care a lot about minor injuries.

You manage to avoid him most of the time. It helps that the ER’s chaos has no mercy and no time for personal crises—though every time your fingers brush the back of your neck or shift your weight just so, flashes of the night before hit you like a freight train.

The press of his mouth against your collarbone.

His hands caressing, gripping your thighs as you convulse.

His voice, low and hoarse: “You feel so fucking good…”

You snap out of it. You have a job to do.

But Jack is everywhere. You see him checking vitals in Trauma 2, walking past with a chart, barking out orders near the nurse’s station—and every damn time, your traitorous brain replays some sinful image of last night’s events.

And he’s not doing much better.

He freezes in the middle of writing something when you laugh at a joke someone tells. He knocks over a coffee cup when you pass behind him in a tight hallway. And he has to physically turn away when you bend over to pick up a dropped chart, running a hand through his hair and muttering “fuck” under his breath.

The tension between you could power the entire hospital.

Later, you spot him teaching a group of interns about… something you couldn’t care less about. But you linger, half-listening to his explanation, until your eyes drift downward.

His fingers.

You should look away. You know you should. But your gaze lingers—strong, steady hands guiding with careful precision, calloused from years in trauma, confident in ways that make your stomach twist.

Your breath catches.

You remember those same fingers grabbing a fistful of your hair, then circling around your neck and putting just enough pressure to make you see stars. And how you licked his fingers clean after he made you come with them, the way you came apart under his hands, his voice in your ear, rough and reverent—“Such a good girl for me…”

You feel heat crawl up your neck and jump slightly when Jack calls your name, grabbing your attention.

Jack is looking straight at you, brow raised. “You okay?”

“Y-Yeah!” You smile too quickly. “Just, uh, dehydrated. Gonna grab some water.”

He narrows his eyes slightly. He knows you’re lying. And as you walk past, you swear his lips twitch upward like he knows exactly what you were thinking.

Your shift has finally come to an end. Thankfully there were no serious cases—because you’ve been completely distracted all night. You’re at your locker, jacket in hand, moving quickly, until you spot a familiar pair of shoes and pants standing just beyond the locker door.

You debate whether to close it or keep it open forever.

“You know we’re gonna have to talk about it sooner or later, right?” He asks, leaning against the lockers.

You bite your lip before slowly closing the door, revealing Jack, arms crossed, bag slung over one shoulder, looking irritatingly good for someone who’s probably just as wrecked as you are.

“Outside?” You offer and he nods, suggesting you lead the way.

As you pass through the automatic doors, you spot Langdon just beginning his shift. He smirks, nodding like he knowssomething, and you try your best to ignore it. Flipping him off for good measure.

You’re now face to face with Jack outside of the ER under the dim lights, tapping your shoes against the pavement, looking everywhere but at him.

Jack rubs the back of his neck. “So… are you avoiding me because it was bad, or because it was really good?”

You groan, hiding your face in your hands. “We were drunk, Jack.”

“Yes, we were.” He agrees, way too easily. “Not what I asked.”

You fold your arms across your chest. “We made a mistake—”

“Did it feel like a mistake?” Jack tilts his head, watching you closely.

You hesitate.

Because you know what a mistake feels like. A mistake feels like guilt sinking sharp in your stomach, like regret pounding in your head. But waking up tangled in Jack’s sheets, his fingers still resting on your waist like he couldn’t bear to let you go? It didn’t feel like a mistake. It was like relief, joy, release. Like something you’ve secretly been waiting for.

“What are you saying?”

“I’m saying,” He takes a step closer to you, “Even drunk out of my mind, I didn’t regret it. And I’d do it again.”

Your eyes widen and you stop breathing for a second. He’d do it again?

“As long as it’s with you.” He adds, clearing his throat and looking away.

For once, he doesn’t look like the Jack everyone else knows. He’s not all confidence or sharp comebacks. He’s vulnerable, a little nervous, maybe even a little scared. And somehow, that makes your heart beat even faster.

“…I didn’t regret it either.” You finally say, and his eyes dart back to look at you, hopeful.

“To be honest,” You continue, huffing because you’re about to admit your deepest secret. “I’ve had… feelings for you for as long as I can remember.”

Jack’s brows raise, an amused smile forming on his lips.

“I mean, you’re—you’re annoyingly handsome, and confident, and…” You swallow. “And I like how you always look out for me. Not just me—everyone, really.”

A small laugh escapes his lips. “Just you, sweetheart. I couldn’t care less about everyone else.”

You blush. “Flattering. But well…yeah. I was just really surprised we… we did it—”

“Sex?” Jack teases. “You can say it.”

You groan, clearly he’s having fun teasing you because you’re beet red now. “Jack—”

“Sorry, sorry,” He smiles, “You’re just so damn cute like this.”

You think there must be steam coming out of your ears now from how hot you feel.

You glance away, hoping to regain composure. “So… what now?”

Jack daringly takes another step towards you, trapping you between him and the wall. “Well,” He says, “You haven’t answered my question.”

“Actually…” You bite your lip. “I think I was so drunk that I… can’t really remember… many details of last night.”

He puts a hand over his heart, mock-wounded. “Ouch. That bad?”

“No! I’m sure it was great—I just—”

He cuts you off gently. “It’s fine, really.”

You blink. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” He then whispers near your ear, “It means I get to show you again. Fully sober this time.”

You gasp, tilting your head to face him and seeing that smirk on his face.

“So,” he adds, eyes sparkling, “your place or mine?”

----

i loved writing this one ngl

[gigiwritess]

are you still writing Fortnite with Benny? I went to read what you have and it kept telling me part 1-3 that there are no posts.

Hi!!!

Yes, I’m still writing Fortnight. I don’t know what happened to the link, but here’s the right one: https://www.tumblr.com/gigiwritess/740855094795550720/fortnight-masterlist

I haven’t written it in a while, but I promise it’s not abandoned, life just has been overwhelming lately.

[gigiwritess]

MY JACK ABBOT'S WORKS IN PROGRESS

[gifs by @merz-8 and @ho-ii]

it's saturday night, i'm high, and my obsession with jack abbot only grows more by the minute. to be honest, I thought that it'd have weaned off by now, but instead i have a thousand new ideas :) so, here's my list of works in progress.

writing:

TRAITOR | jack x f!resident!reader x frank | angsty, fluff, smut | love triangle fic that i don't even recall where it came from. currently at 2,8k words and it's nowhere near the end lol [spoiler alert: she ends with jack]. based a lot off 'traitor' and 'delirium' by elley duhé, 'body talk' by annaca. BRIGHTER 4TH | jack x vega!f!reader | untitled for now. really short at the moment

gonna write:

WILDFIRE | jack x firefighter!f!reader | jack falling in love with a feisty firefighter who matches his freak. probably a 2-parter [maybe more]. kinda angsty, smut. they're gonna have a toxic relationship at first MISTAKEN | jack x f!resident!reader | established but secret relationship; reader is having a hard time fighting off the ghost of his dead wife (she was a horrible person for him in this fic) and feels insecure. based off 'mistaken' by tove lo.

might write:

ELEVATOR EYES | jack x f!resident!reader | yes, another idea based off a song, again by tove lo. maybe enemies-to-lovers. still not sure.

REMEMBER: i write for myself, mostly, and for a mature audience. my works might include sensitive themes such as sex & mental health issues (the two most likely to appear).

ABOUT REQUESTS

i take some time to write things because i like to write full stories that i develop a lot, but i'd like to challenge myself to write shorter things, without putting much thought into it (like blurbs, i think?). so feel free to send me any jack abbot requests!!! i'd love to try to exercise my creativity with it.

bye!!!

[gigiwritess]

i want so badly to be more offline but alas the siren call of images

[gigiwritess]

chasing ghosts

dr. abbot x f!resident!reader masterlist content: 18+ mdni, sexually explicit content, lots of angst, age gap, swearing, alcohol, mentions of child death/multiple casualties at the beginning during a shift words: 8.1K synopsis: you and jack share a kiss during your second year of residency and you spend the next two years trying to outrun those feelings. until the pitt's annual summer party. jack abbot is down absolutely fucking horrendously. like i meaaaaan unprecedented levels of yearning. a/n: hi, i think i blacked out while writing this. eyeeeee had so so much fun. i hope i did jack justice. let me know what you think!!!!

The annual summer party for the Pitt is an all day affair in order to make sure everyone, regardless of who’s working what shift that day, has a chance to stop in.

You wouldn’t think it, but the ER knew how to throw a good party. In the morning, it started with brunch at a place downtown with bottomless mimosas, top tier pancakes, and a drag performance. After brunch, they’d go hang out at the park by the river for a few hours before reconvening for dinner and bar hopping downtown.

Jack Abbot was off today, but still skipped all the morning and afternoon activities in favor of the evening. His sleep schedule was built that way now and even on his off days, it was rare for him to be out during the day. Besides, he was hoping he’d run into you there after your own shift.

You never came to these types of events, but that didn’t stop him from hoping every time. His eyes were always searching, hoping they’d stumble upon yours.

He hadn’t seen or spoken to you much in the last two years, since you switched to the day shift. When shift change occurred, you largely avoided him. He asked Robby about you and Robby always said the same thing, “She’s a great doctor, but she keeps to herself.”

It hadn’t been like that when you were on the night shift. You were shy, sure, but it hadn’t taken Jack very long to pry you out of your shell. 

He wondered sometimes if you regretted it, now. Letting him in.

Now, he was making the rounds at the first bar of the night, not so subtly looking for you.

“You’re pathetic,” Robby teased as he sipped his beer.

“Huh?” Jack said, finally bringing his eyes back to the man in front of him. 

Robby smirked knowingly, “She is here, you know.”

“Really?” 

“Yeah,” He said, “But her boyfriend is supposed to be meeting her here.”

His heart stuttered in his chest, “Boyfriend?”

Robby nodded, “I didn’t know she was seeing anyone until today. I overheard her mention it to Heather.”

Fuck. Not only were you seeing someone, you were bringing him here, to meet everyone in the Pitt. You must’ve been serious about him, then.

“Do you know where she is?”

Robby tilted his head as he looked at Jack, “You sure you wanna go down that road?”

“I just want to talk to her.” He said, and it was true. Mostly. 

The two of you hadn’t had a real conversation since the week before you had requested the shift change. That night on the roof. He felt it was long overdue for the two of you to sit down and talk about it like adults. Maybe Robby was right, maybe it was much too late for that. 

But Jack couldn’t accept that.

Robby sighed heavily, “I saw her go upstairs to the rooftop bar with Heather and Samira twenty minutes ago.”

“Thanks, brother.” Jack clapped him on the back as he headed up the stairs.

***

You liked the quiet of the night time. Being awake and working when everyone else was asleep brought with it a sort of peaceful solitude you couldn’t quite explain.

But Jack hadn’t needed you to explain, he had understood it intrinsically.

The night shift, of course, could become hectic and even nightmarish at times. But if you stepped outside for some air, either on the roof or the ambulance bay, the quiet of the night cocooned you in safety.

And that’s where you were that night two years ago, on the roof and leaning over the railing, trying to catch your breath.

There had been a six car pile up almost immediately rushed in after the day shift had trickled out. Ten patients. Four of them were in critical condition when they arrived, in that terrible purgatory between life and death. For five hours, you, Abbot, Shen, and Ellis had bounced between them. Still, you lost all four of them.

You had kept it together for the half hour after you had called the last patient, despite the fact that you had felt Jack’s eyes on you the whole time.

But he seemed able to keep it together, to not fall apart, so you would too. The knee jerk response to impress him, to make him proud of you had never quite dulled in your two years of residency. It felt a bit fucking pathetic, actually.

Worse, still, that he seemed to notice how badly you craved his validation and so gave it freely. 

“Hey,” He stepped close to you, his warm breath caressing your cheek, “Go take a break, I’ll come find you in fifteen.”

“I don’t need a break.” You said quickly.

“You do,” He said, undeterred, “You’ve been staring dead eyed at the board for the last two minutes. Shen tried to call you over for a code stroke thirty seconds ago and you didn’t blink.”

You turned to him finally, panic on your face, “Fuck, seriously?” 

You started to walk to go find Shen and the stroke patient, but Jack grabbed your arm, “Nope, uh-uh. Break first. Now.”

It was rare that Jack wasn’t joking with you, trying to make you smile. Now he looked deadly serious. Like he would physically remove you from the floor himself if you refused. You must’ve looked like shit.

“Okay.” You said finally, “Fine.”

He released your arm, but his eyes trained on your every step as you walked away, “I catch you on a patient in the next fifteen minutes and I’m sending you home.” He called after you.

You raised your hand over your head in a thumbs up to signal that you’d heard and kept walking.

And that was how you ended up on the roof. Bathed in the moonlight with the quiet midnight streets of Pittsburgh below, silent tears streamed down your cheeks as you greedily sucked the night air into your lungs.

You weren’t aware of time passing and your mind had gone blissfully blank until you heard him come up behind you.

“How come you, Ellis, or Shen didn’t need a break?” You asked, your voice wavering, “Is there something wrong with me?”

He leaned over the railing at your side and turned his head to look at you, but you avoided his eyes, knowing they’d be soft and warm and inviting. You did not need to see him looking at you like that right now. Just like you had been trying not to notice the way he watched you more than the others, touched you more than was necessary, handed out praise to you more generously.

“Not even a little bit.” He said softly, voice rough, “You were perfect down there. Nothing else you could have done.“

You breathed out a shaky breath, “Then why does it feel so bad?”

“Because you’re human,” He said softly, “And because you were the only one of us to call time of death on a seven year old tonight.”

You swallowed, tilting your head up towards the sky so you could see the moon. A moon that seven year old kid would never see again. “Does it ever hurt less?”

“Fuck, no.” He sighed, “But it makes you a better doctor, I think. Or at least, that’s what I tell myself to try to make it all mean something.”

Finally, you looked at him, and the sight of your red rimmed eyes wrecked him, “It does make you a better doctor,” You hiccuped and gave him a small smile, “The best, probably.”

He shook his head, smirking, and looked down at his hands, “Careful, kid. You keep talking like that, I might think you actually like me.”

Feeling brave, you nudged your shoulder against his, “I mean it. I feel really grateful that you’re my attending. I wouldn’t want to learn under anyone else.”

He pushed his shoulder back against yours and your hands brushed where they each grasped the railing, “I came up here to make you feel better and somehow you’re the one comforting me. How did you get so good at deflecting?”

You laughed through your tears and he relished the sound, “I learned from the best,” You said pointedly as you looked over at him.

“See,” He pointed at you, teasing, “That’s what I’m talking about. Much better. You’re way less unsettling when you’re mean.”

You smiled and he found himself staring at your mouth, enraptured by it, really. The truth was, he had noticed the ways in which he was better when he was around you. Both as a doctor and a teacher. You made him want to be better. He knew he had been giving you more attention than the others, bordering on an inappropriate amount. And he knew, before he came up to the roof, that he’d have a hard time being alone with you and not imagining what you taste like or what your soft skin would feel like under his calloused hands.

He thought you felt the same, but you could be hard to read sometimes. Sometimes, he swore you leaned into his touch, other times you jumped away from it as if he had burned you. Sometimes you went whole days seemingly trying to avoid him, others you followed him around like a puppy waiting for a pat on the head and for him to tell you what a good girl you are.

But now, fuck, now you were gazing at his mouth, too. And he tried, really fucking tried, to rein in the desire. He shouldn’t have kissed you. And he would think about it every day for days and weeks and months and years how badly he wished he could take it back. Not because he didn’t mean it or didn’t want it, but because it had started this downward spiral of silence and distance until you were so far away he hadn’t really seen you up close in two years. If he could go back, he would’ve told himself it wasn’t worth it. Because having only this much of you day in and day out while he yearned for more was better than having nothing at all, than you slipping through his fingers like grains of sand. 

But he didn’t know then what he knew now. 

Cautiously, he moved his face towards yours, waiting for you to pull back. But inch by inch he moved, and you stayed put. And when he was close enough to share breath with you, he met your eyes and was greeted with pupils that had completely devoured your irises. No color in sight, just an endless abyss of desire and want. Your breath faltered when his lips just barely brushed yours, and he stilled for a moment before his self restraint crumbled.

The kiss was hesitant and gentle, at first. Jack kept his hands to himself, slowly kissed you in a way that repeatedly seemed to ask Is this okay? Is this alright? Are you okay? Are you sure?

It was you who deepened the kiss first, tongue darting out to swipe gently at his lower lip.

And the cord between you, that was already so tenuous and frayed, snapped.

His hands shook as he touched you, moving from your waist, to your neck, to your face. It was like his body knew first what his brain didn’t, that he was taking too much and not enough, that hours and days and months and years of touching you would never satiate him anyway and he should just fucking quit while he was ahead. His traitorous mouth that moaned into yours was a bottomless, greedy pit and it could never have you, not really, not even as it sucked desperately at your neck in a useless attempt to mark you as his.

The marks would fade and you would fade from him along with them. 

He thinks now he probably knew as soon as you pulled away, at the panic in your eyes, that he had lost you before he had even really had the chance to have you. 

But he would deny it to himself, even as you ran off the roof ignoring the way your name came out strangled from his throat. 

He would deny it when you didn’t look at him the rest of the night, when you pretended not to hear when he tried to talk to you after the shift change that morning.

He would deny it when you handed him your shift change request form after a week of avoiding him, asking for his signature as you looked anywhere but at him.

He would deny it when his broken voice asked “Is this really what you want?” and you only silently nodded.

Jack Abbot knew he had lost you, he wasn’t delusional, but he could convince himself it was only temporary. He was patient. So fucking patient. He’d find you again, when you were ready.

***

Jack could admit that you having a boyfriend had not been part of his plan. Not that he had a plan, more so an overwhelming sense that if he waited long enough, you’d fall back into him.

But you had still been fleeing the ER at shift change without acknowledging him. He was patient, but it aggravated him to no end, the way you seemed so unaffected. Sometimes it made him feel like maybe he had made it all up in his head and that you had never wanted him at all. But then the film would play on loop again in his head and he knew he didn’t imagine your blown out pupils or the way you deepened the kiss first or the way you moaned when his mouth plucked bruises from your neck like ripened strawberries.

You had wanted him just as badly, he was sure of that. He just couldn’t understand why you were still acting like he didn’t exist.

When he got to the rooftop and looked around, he found you first at a table in the corner, eyes glued to your phone. Another quick glance around and he saw Heather and Samira talking at the bar.

Perfect. You were alone.

When he crossed the roof and sat in the empty seat next to you and you didn’t immediately look up, he realized you had marked his presence on the rooftop as soon as he got here.

The man was like a fucking sonar to your brain. You knew when he was in the same room as you before your eyes could track him. Tonight was no different.

“You look like you could use a drink.” Jack said.

Oh, you hadn’t realized how much you had missed the pleasant roughness of his voice, how it soothed you effortlessly. It practically sent chills down your spine.

You swallowed, continuing to stare at your phone. The second you met those warm hazel eyes, it would be over for you, you knew. It was the reason you had avoided him so diligently the last two years.

“Heather and Samira are getting me one.”

He wordlessly held his own drink out to you. When you stared blankly at it for a few moments, he shook it lightly, ice rattling against the glass, “It’s just a tequila soda. It’s not poison.”

Against your better judgment, and perhaps to indulge that stupid fucking instinct in your head that demanded you not disappoint him, you took it from him. You did your best not to pay attention to the sensation that shot across your skin when your fingers brushed, but the traitorous goosebumps spread across your arms anyway.

You took a sip and handed it back to him, still looking at your phone.

“Why aren’t you with them at the bar?”

“I had to take a call.”

“From your boyfriend?” Finally, fucking finally, you looked at him. It was disdain all over your face, but fuck it, he’d take it. He smirked and held his hands up in surrender, “I didn’t ask, Robby told me. Said he was meeting you here.”

Quickly, you looked back at your phone and he saw your throat bob, “He called to say he couldn’t make it, so.”

Jack watched you carefully, the way you frowned and your mouth turned down just slightly. You were upset, and not just at him. 

“I’m sorry,” He said softly, but you scoffed at his apology and shook your head. And that pissed him off, “Look, you may fuckin’ hate me, but I still care about you and I mean it. I’m sorry if he stood you up. I don’t like seeing you sad.”

You rubbed at your forehead in agitation, “I don’t hate you. I’ve never fucking hated you. That’s the problem.”

Well, that was news to him. But he decided not to comment on it. He didn’t want to piss you off anymore than he already had, which seemed to be an awful lot considering he had just got here.

“How long have you been together?” You shot him that annoyed look again, “Christ, I’m just making conversation.”

“Right,” You said sarcastically and shook your head, but you answered all the same, “Two and a half years.” You said quietly. It hadn’t quite caught up to you yet, what you were admitting when telling him that. It took a couple of moments for your brain to catch up, but by then it was too late.

But Jack’s brain was already there, making the mental calculations you had long forgotten about.

Two and a half—? No, that—That couldn’t be right. Because that would mean—

Your face and ears had reddened and you wouldn’t look at him.

Jack’s ears were ringing. He started to say your name—

“Dr. Abbot,” Heather and Samira were back, the latter handing you a drink, “Catching up with your old resident?”

He forced a smile and stood, acted like his world wasn’t fucking falling apart around him, like you hadn’t just dropped a fucking bomb on him in casual conversation.

He was impressed with his ability to hold damn near cheerful conversation with Heather and Samira until he was able to excuse himself.

And this time, it was you who called after him when he left the roof.

“Jack,” Your voice was a soft plea behind him. It was a language he used to be fluent in, but clearly, he didn’t fucking know you anymore. He was starting to think he never had, “Jack, wait—“

He rounded on you in the stairwell, you still a couple of steps above him so the two of you were eye level, “Why didn’t you fucking tell me?”

You seemed to be caught off guard that he had actually stopped, and just blinked at him for a moment, “What difference would it have made?”

“What difference—?” He ran a hand through his hair in frustration, “All this time I’ve been driving myself out of my goddamn mind trying to figure out what I did wrong when it turns out I was your fucking, what, side piece? Affair?”

“Affair?” You hissed incredulously, “We kissed once!”

He squeezed his eyes shut and hung his head, “Does he know?” 

“What?”

He was quickly becoming frustrated with your inability to keep up with the urgency this situation demanded. To him, at least, the whole world had shifted around him. And you were behaving as if he was the one acting crazy.

“Your boyfriend, does he know? About us?”

“Jack,” You said breathlessly, “There is no us. There was never an us.”

Jack shook his head, “How do you do it?”

“Do what?” You asked, exasperated.

“I’ve been pining after you for two fucking years and you’ve compartmentalized so goddamn well that you’ve convinced yourself it was nothing. That it meant nothing.”

For a second, he thought he saw a flicker of the version of you he used to know. Your face faltered for just a second, but then the walls were immediately back up, “I don’t owe you anything.” You said coldly, “It’s not my fault you’ve spent the last two years chasing a ghost.”

You stared each other down for a few more moments, the rage pulsating between you, before Jack broke your stare by tossing back the rest of his drink, “You’re right,” He said finally, and turned away from you to head down the stairs, “I’m sorry I disrupted your evening. Won’t happen again.”

You sighed, “Jack—“

“It’s Dr. Abbot,” He said coldly, turning back to face you again, “If you don’t mind.”

Your face fell marginally and he almost took it back when he thought he saw your lower lip wobble, but he couldn’t be sorry. If you wanted to pretend like there was nothing between the two of you, then he would do the same.

He turned again and jogged down the rest of the stairs. He needed another drink. Or seven.

***

Your hands were shaking. You stood in the stairwell staring stupidly after Jack for longer than was acceptable. You couldn’t go back upstairs to Heather and Samira like this, they’d know something was up. And you certainly couldn’t follow after Jack.

You should just go home. It was a stupid fucking idea to come here in the first place, you knew it was. And still you had come, why?

Because some part of you wanted to see him? No matter how much you denied it? Never mind the fact you had basically only invited your boyfriend because you knew his presence would keep you accountable if you were forced to be alone with Jack?

You hadn’t wanted him here, not really. Not for reasons that made sense. If you were honest with yourself, which you hadn’t been in a long, long time, your relationship had been over for at least six months.

Seeing Jack again, hearing his voice again made that very clear to you. And a part of you hated Jack for it. You had been able to convince yourself for two years that your current relationship was as good as it would get. Your mistake with Jack on the roof was just that, a mistake. Nothing more.

You had thought after all this time Jack must’ve felt the same. He fucked up and kissed his hot, younger resident, just once. He hadn’t meant to and he would be glad it was all over. You had been doing him a favor, you thought.

But when you had allowed yourself to look at him, really look at him tonight, that hadn’t been what you’d seen. In fact, he was angry with you. He had looked at you with such hurt and betrayal as if all this time he had been in love with you.

It didn’t make any fucking sense. You sat in the stairwell and pressed the heels of your palms into your eyes. None of it made any fucking sense.

You should go home.

***

Robby eyed Jack with silent suspicion when he joined him back at the bar and ordered two tequila sodas. He knocked the first one back in one go and then rested his head in his hands on the bar top.

“So it went well, I take it?” Robby asked mildly.

Jack glared at Robby and then looked back at his drink, “She has a boyfriend.”

Robby nodded, “Right. I’m glad we’re on the same page about that, now.”

Jack shook his head and felt the tequila make its way through him, “No, you see, she’s had a boyfriend. Since before she moved to the day shift. The same one.”

Robby was silent for a moment, then, “Oh.”

“Yeah.” Jack knocked back his second tequila soda and ordered another.

“Alright, I can see you’re upset, but all the tequila sodas in the world aren’t going to make you feel better.”

“No,” Jack agreed, “But maybe it’ll stop me from thinking about her for just a while.”

Just then, as Robby was trying to subtly get the bartender to cut off Jack, Robby’s phone buzzed with a text from Heather.

What did Abbot say to Y/N? Found her crying in the stairwell. She won’t stop.

He sighed heavily and turned back to Jack, “You made her cry?”

“What?” Jack looked at him incredulously, “No.”

“Heather says she’s sobbing in the stairwell.”

Oh, he hated the way that sent an ache through him. There was a time when he would’ve taken off running to get to you if he had heard that. Maybe even just earlier today. Not now, though.

“Believe me, her eyes were fucking bone dry when I left her.”

Robby’s phone buzzed again.

Never mind. Finally got her to say something coherent. Broke up with her boyfriend over the phone. Nothing to do with Abbot.

Christ. Nothing to do with Abbot. Right, Robby thought and rubbed a hand down his face, somehow he doubted that very much.

Robby looked back at his friend, debating if he should deliver this news to Jack or not. But Jack was very drunk now and he’d probably just tear after you like a man on a mission. Neither of you needed that right now, Robby thought. He’d tell Jack in the morning.

***

Heather and Samira sat on either side of you as you tried and failed to explain everything to them. You were very bad at this. Having work friends. Shen and Ellis had tolerated you, always including you, buying you coffee, but you knew really you were mostly third wheeling. And you hadn’t minded it. You had always tried to draw a firm line between your work and personal life, which is probably why the situation with Jack fucked you up so badly.

Heather started again, “So you and Abbot—“ 

“Yes.”

“And that’s why you switched to the day shift.”

“Yes.”

“And Jack also wanted you moved to the day shift?”

This is where things got murky for you. Tiredly, you rubbed your eyes, “I don’t know what Jack wanted because I never asked.”

“He didn’t know about your boyfriend then, either?”

You shook your head slowly, “I thought the fact that I was his resident was excuse enough. I left because I didn’t trust myself around him and I thought it’d be easier on us both.”

“And today was the first time you’d really spoken in two years?”

“Yes.”

“And this one conversation spurred you to break up with your long term boyfriend on a whim?”

You looked at Heather and smirked, “So you’re getting it now? Why I should be institutionalized?”

Heather and Samira both laughed, but Heather shook her head, “I don’t think you’re crazy. I think you’re finally being honest with yourself about your feelings. Which is really fucking brave.”

“I say we go to the next bar and get very drunk.” Samira said, standing.

“Oh, I— No,” You shook your head, panicking, “What if he’s there?”

“Oh, I hope he is.” Heather laughed and the two of them linked arms with you.

***

Robby walked silently next to Jack as they made their way to the next bar, his hands stuffed in his pockets, “Brother, I really think maybe you should just sleep this one off.”

Jack turned to Robby, “It’s only 10 PM which is roughly 10 AM by my standards. So there will be no sleeping from me for a while. But you, by all means, can go home.”

Robby inhaled slowly through his nose. He was fucking exhausted, but he didn’t trust Jack in this state. And he had seen you go off with Heather and Samira not too long ago, headed in the same direction they were walking in right now.

So he kept walking, eyeing Jack every so often until they got to the bar.

He should have just gone home, probably.

Because once they got to the bar, all hell broke loose.

***

The room was spinning. The text had come in just moments after back to back lemon drop shots and your vision was blurred. You were unsure if it was from tears or the alcohol.

“Hey, what happened?” Samira was shouting in your ear over the din of the bar.

You passed the phone to her wordlessly as you ordered another shot. You needed to be belligerent if you were going to survive this.

Samira’s jaw dropped as she watched the video. She scrubbed back and forth a few times before she handed the phone back to you.

“This is the boyfriend who couldn’t meet you here because of ‘work’?”

You nodded.

“Well, you made the right call then, breaking up with him.”

You laughed humorlessly, and then you were sobbing, “I don’t know… why I care…” You hiccuped, “I don’t think I’ve loved him for a long time.”

Samira sighed, rubbing a hand down your back, “It sounds like you tried really hard to salvage the relationship. Probably feels like a waste of almost three years of your life now,” This renewed your sobs and Samira looked at you with alarm, “I’m not saying I think you wasted three years, I just mean, it probably felt that way— I’m gonna go find Heather, she’s much better at this sort of thing.”

Alone, you ordered a drink and wiped at your cheeks. You knew Jack was next to you before you smelt his cologne and sighed heavily.

“Don’t worry,” He said softly, “I’m just getting a drink and then I’ll go as far away from you as possible.”

You only nodded. The man you had chosen to fight for had stood you up to go to a bar across town and make out with the coworker he swore for months you had nothing to worry about while your best friend unknowingly filmed him from across the room.

The man you were beginning to suspect had been in love with you for close to four years now, you had spent the last two years running away from and now he hated you.

It felt like a big cosmic joke.

You rested your head on your arms and willed him away so you wouldn’t have to confront the long string of bad decisions you’d made that had led you here.

But Jack just couldn’t resist when you looked so miserable, “Are you alright, kid? Hate seeing you like this.”

You pushed your head up and met his eyes. Despite your earlier argument, he was looking at you with tenderness and concern. He meant it, that he cared, you could see it all over him. It made you want to burst into tears again. And maybe that’s why you decided to poke the bear, see how far you could push, what would make him really, truly loathe you? It was what you deserved after all, right?

You turned your head away from him and unlocked your phone, tapping to the video your friend had sent, hitting play and sliding it over the bar top to Jack, “You’ll be happy to know this is what my boyfriend was too busy doing to meet me tonight. Some sort of fucked up karma, I suppose.”

Jack’s face betrayed nothing as he watched the video, but you thought maybe a muscle in his jaw ticked. He slid the phone back to you, “Whatever you think of me, I’m not enjoying this.”

You scoffed and shook your head, looking down at the bar top.

“I’m serious. I would never—“ You hear him sigh in frustration, “Just because I’m hurting doesn’t mean I wish you were hurting, too. If anything, if you were happy, maybe it’d all make more sense to me.”

He tapped his finger on top of your phone case, “That guy’s a fucking idiot. You deserve way better than that.” You chewed on the inside of your cheek, carefully avoiding looking at him, “Hey,” He said and crooked a finger under your chin, gently pulling until you met his gaze, “You deserve better, okay?”

You were conscious of the fact that you wanted to kiss him. And you knew he saw the way your eyes drifted dangerously to his mouth. 

“I did the same thing to him.” You said quietly, still staring at his mouth, “Only seems fair.”

Jack released your chin and shook his head, “Don’t compare what we did to… To that.”

He sounded disgusted and it made you want to laugh, “How is it any different?”

“That is just drunken lust.” He leaned towards you on his forearms, “What we did meant something. Maybe not to you, but it did to me.”

“And that makes it better?”

“Did it mean something to you?” He shot back.

His face was very close to yours now, you could smell the tequila on his breath. 

“Tell me,” He said slowly, “Tell me it didn’t mean anything to you and I swear to God, I’ll walk away and you’ll never hear from me again.”

You swallowed, blinking rapidly to clear the watering of your eyes. Of course you couldn’t tell him it meant nothing. You had thought about it nearly every day for two years. 

But you were drunk and a fucking wreck and you didn’t know anything anymore except that you still remembered exactly what Jack Abbot tasted like and that he was looking at you right now like he would get on his knees for you in this crowded bar if you asked.

“I should go.” You whispered softly, broken, and slid from your bar stool.

He let you pass, but then called after you, loudly enough that people around you quieted, “What the fuck are you so scared of?”

You turned back, knowing that your face was flushed from the attention of others, “Goodnight, Dr. Abbot.”

***

“Hey, let her go,” Robby stood in front of Jack who was now trying to exit the bar and follow after you, “You’re drunk.”

“I’m fine,” Jack insisted, and when he looked around Robby, he saw it had started to downpour outside, “She’s drunk and it’s storming out there.”

“Heather will check in with her and make sure she gets home okay.”

Jack looked from the door to Robby a few times before sighing and running a hand through his hair, “Sorry, I just… She really gets under my fucking skin.”

Robby nodded and tried to stifle a yawn, “I noticed.”

Jack sighed, “Go home, Robby, seriously. I’m not gonna do anything stupid. I promise.” He shook his head, “I should probably just go home, too.”

Robby offered a sad smile and clapped him on the shoulder, “It’ll all make more sense in the morning, brother.”

Jack snorted, “Historically, that has never been true for me.”

***

It felt pretty melodramatic to be standing in the park overlooking the river as it poured. It was all very Jane Austen of you, you decided. Except Mr. Darcy would not be showing up to declare his love for you, Mr. Darcy was likely dry and headed home in his UberX.

You didn’t know where home was anymore. Luckily, you hadn’t moved in with your boyfriend yet. It was one of the many things that should have been a red flag, the fact that you hadn’t had a desire to cohabitate with him. You liked when he left in the morning and you liked the nights where he got home too late and went to his own apartment so as not to disturb your rest.

But still, there were traces of him all through your apartment. You didn’t want to be there.

You’re not sure how long you sit in the warm rain before your phone buzzed. You expected Heather or Samira, but were shocked to see Jack’s name on the banner, alerting you to a text.

Jack hadn’t texted you in something like two years.

I know I shouldn’t be texting you, it read, But I just want to be sure you got home safe. Please  text when you’re home.

After staring at your phone for a few minutes, now soaked with the rain, you attempted to dry the screen with the sleeve of your jacket. It worked only slightly, but allowed you to hold down the text and “like” it.

After about thirty seconds, the speech bubble appeared on your phone to indicate he was typing.

Well don’t just fucking like the message. Are you home?

You could lie, you supposed. Probably, you could walk into PTMC and sleep in an empty room upstairs.

But you were growing tired of all the pretending.

no. You replied finally.

His reply was immediate, Where are you? 

in the park.

It’s raining.

excellent observation, dr. abbot.

You stared at the screen as his speech bubble appeared and disappeared, over and over, for a couple minutes.

Send me your location. Then, almost as an afterthought, Please.

This was a bad idea, probably. After the events of today, you should not be sending Jack Abbot your location. You should not be speaking to Jack Abbot at all. After today, you should probably resign from your residency and maybe join a convent.

You watched as seemingly of their own volition, your hands tapped all the right buttons to send Jack a pin.

A few moments later, he texted a screenshot of an Uber being sent to your location with the car information and license plate.

i don’t want to go home. You sent him in a rush.

Yeah, I got that, he replied, The Uber is bringing you to me.

You blew a long breath out between your lips, you sure that’s a good idea?

Nope. Uber’s pulling up now.

Sure enough, headlights lit up the raindrops behind you. You turned to see the car, quickly giving the license plate a cursory once over to make sure it matched what Jack sent. 

You could send the car off. Say it was a mistake. Not get in. Showing up at Jack’s apartment soaked to the skin in the middle of the night, still drunk and emotionally unstable felt like boarding a train you knew would derail. 

You still got in the car, though. You didn’t have anywhere else to go.

***

When Jack opened the door to his apartment, the frigid air from his AC assaulted you and you shivered, wrapping your arms around yourself.

He stepped aside to allow you in and you kicked off your water logged shoes.

You had been here only once before, the first week of your residency. Jack would host a team dinner (early, so you could all still make your shift in time) whenever a new resident was added to the night shift. 

You had been really nervous you recalled, until Jack had cracked a joke that made you choke on your soda.

It had been almost four years, but his apartment hadn’t changed much at all. It was neat and tidy, nothing out of place. The furniture was well taken care of, but everything was in varying shades of gray and blue. The only hints of personality being some pictures on his fridge, vinyls by a stereo, and some books on a shelf.

But one photo on his fridge caught your eye and before you knew what you were doing, you were walking to it.

Early in your second year of residency, you had presented your research on cardiogenic pulmonary edema outcomes in the ER at a conference in New York. Jack had shown up without telling you he was coming. He stayed near your poster all day while you presented to interested passersby, giving you a thumbs up or “solid work” when you needed it, smuggling you snacks, making sure you drank water. And at the end of it you remembered he took you out to dinner and told you how proud he was of you and what a great emergency medicine doctor you would be.

You had taken a picture with him in front of your poster and this was the photo on his fridge. You had a huge smile on your face and Jack had an arm wrapped around your shoulders.

“I didn’t know you had this.” You said softly.

He didn’t say anything so you turned to look at him, but his eyes were trained on the photo, “Let’s get you out of those wet clothes,” He said finally, walking by you to his bedroom.

You watched in his doorway as he pulled a pair of clean sweatpants and a t shirt from his closet and placed them at the edge of his bed, “The shower’s in that room,” He pointed to a door off the bedroom, “There’s clean towels under the sink, use whatever soap you like.”

He started to walk past you, but you grabbed his arm, and he stopped, eyes snagging on the hand that was touching him, “Thank you.” You said softly.

His eyes slowly roved upwards until they met yours. He searched your face, though you weren’t sure what he was looking for, then pressed a kiss to your forehead before he left the room.

***

After you were showered and changed, you wandered out to the living room where Jack sat on the couch, an arm draped over his forehead. He had taken his prosthetic off and it was propped up next to the coffee table.

When he heard you pad into the room, he cracked his eyes open, “Feeling better?” You nodded. “Good. Take the bed, I’ll sleep out here.”

But you still stood there, staring at him, arms wrapped around yourself, “Do you love me?” You asked, voice small.

He stared at you for a moment and sat up, running a hand over his face, “Have I not made it painfully obvious?”

“For how long?”

He shook his head and smiled at you incredulously, “You don’t get to do this.”

“Do what?”

“You’ve been in control of this,” He gestured between the two of you, “From the second I fucking met you and now you’re trying to what, decode the situation? See what outcome is most advantageous? I mean, Jesus Christ, what do you want?”

“What do I want?”

“Yes,” He said, “Not what seems correct, not what seems rational, what is it that you want?”

“I—“ You shook your head, “I don’t– I don’t know.”

“Yes, you do.” He said firmly, “Do you want your cheating boyfriend?”

You frowned, “No.”

“Did you ever want him?”

You huffed in frustration, “What do you mean?”

“I mean when you chose him over me, was that what you wanted?”

“That’s not a fair characterization of what happened—“

“Was it what you wanted?”

You faltered, “It was what was safest.” You said softly.

He smiled at you sadly, “He couldn’t hurt you if you didn’t love him, right?”

You stared up at the ceiling, willing the tears back into your eyes, “I didn’t think it meant that much to you.”

“You never gave me the chance to tell you.” He rubbed a hand over his jaw, “I’ll ask you again, what do you want?”

You looked at him, eyes watering, and you swallowed hard before you moved to him. He watched you as you placed a knee on either side of his legs, straddling his lap. His eyes followed your every movement reverently, your face just above his as you rested your forehead against his. His hands knotted themselves in your hair, “I’m scared,” You breathed shakily into his mouth.

“Of what?” He asked, his mouth near centimeters from yours.

“Of you. Of wanting you too much. Of losing you. Of everything.”

“I can’t promise you that this will work,” He said softly, “But I can promise I’ll fight like hell to make it work.”

You swallowed, “Because you love me?”

Finally, he laughed, “Yes, I fucking love you. Now be quiet.” He said before he kissed you.

He tasted exactly like you remembered, except tonight, there were remnants of tequila on his tongue. It was like he was trying to make up for lost time, the way he kissed you on that couch. He pushed his tongue into your mouth almost immediately, like he was searching for something he’d lost. Already, you were out of breath, hips grinding down on him without realizing. He sucked your lower lip into his mouth and bit down gently, groaning when you rubbed yourself on his growing erection.

“Slow down,” He chastised.

“You started it.” You reminded him.

“Fuck,” He moaned and then pushed you off him so he could crawl over you, “You’re sure?” He asked as you looked up at him, hair fanning around your head on the couch cushion like a halo.

You nodded, “I want you.”

He smirked and lowered his head to yours again, pulling kisses from you as one hand worked its way under your t-shirt. Your skin was smooth and soft there and he inched up slowly, until his fingers just brushed the underside of your breast. Touching you like this, he thought a lot about that night on the roof, the way he had kissed you like he knew he was already out of time.

Now… Now the world seemed to open up. He could take as much time as he wanted. You weren’t going anywhere, not this time. You were his and he wouldn’t let you go so easily again.

Gently, he tugged the t-shirt over your head so he could look at you and he was unable to suppress the sigh that tumbled from his lips. He squeezed your breast with one hand, thumbed your nipple and watched it pebble as you sighed. Still watching you, he pinched your nipple lightly between his thumb and forefinger and your eyes rolled back into your head as you writhed beneath him.

He kissed you, fingers still teasingly rolling your nipple between his fingers, and then he began to kiss down your jaw and neck until he was able to suck your nipple into his mouth. The moan that fell from your lips when he swirled his tongue around you went straight to his cock. 

He was overly conscious of the fact that because he had imagined this very moment for two years minimum, likely longer, because he had imagined it hundreds of times while getting himself off, it was likely he would last all of thirty seconds once he was inside you, once he felt the real thing. So he would make this last for you.

Jack shimmied the sweatpants off of you and forgot that because you were here and you had just showered, you weren’t wearing panties. And suddenly, he felt feral. 

“Jesus Christ,” He shook his head looking at you, it felt like maybe he was dreaming a little, having you naked beneath him. He felt almost delirious with it.

You looked up at him, those pupils once again whole saucers, “Touch me, please?” You whined.

He kissed you again, licking into your mouth as he reached a hand down between your thighs. You gasped as he fully sunk a finger into you. When he moved his mouth back down to suck on your other nipple, your back arched and it sent him into another dimension, being able to make you feel like this.

With two of his fingers pumping you slowly and a thumb on your clit, he felt the moment when you climaxed before you cried out, “That’s it, sweetheart,” He said softly, “Look so pretty when you come for me like that.”

As you caught your breath, you watched as he pulled his fingers out of you and then sucked your juices from his digits. “Taste so good, too.”

Your eyes stayed locked on one another as he reached for a wooden bowl on the coffee table. He took the top off, pulled out an aluminum packet, and closed it again. And suddenly you were giggling, “What?” He asked, ripping the package open.

“D’you fuck mad bitches on this couch or something, Jack?”

He rolled his eyes, but smirked, “Shut up.”

When he slid into you, forehead pressed to yours, you gasped at the sensation. You had thought about this countless times before, Jack Abbot above you, like this. What you had never really thought about was that maybe while he did it, he’d be looking at you like he was in love with you. And it nearly shattered you.

“I love you,” You murmured into his mouth as you felt him beginning to come undone, “I love you so much.”

He moaned your name as he finished and collapsed against you, damp and breathless, “You love me, huh?” He said after a moment.

You lightly scratched the back of his head, “I’ve loved you for years,” You said softly, “Just spent a lot of that time denying it.”

He pulled his head back and kissed you messily, your chin grasped firmly in his hand. 

“Better late than never.”

[gigiwritess]

Okay where is the rest??????!!!! I need it!!!!! Now!!!!

Badly Kept Secrets - Jack Abbot x Reader

Note - Ya’ll I finished The Pitt and Jesus, the thoughts I have of this man. There’s gonna be a part two of this, but this is what I’ve got for now.

Warnings - younger reader (like mid 20s), invasion of privacy, semi dirty thoughts

0237. The first time you’d had a chance to breathe this whole shift. It had been chaos since you’d took report from Mateo. Plenty of stomach aches that couldn’t wait till their primary care doctor opened in the morning, a gun shot wound, a few over doses. You couldn’t wait till 0700, you’d see your fellow day shift nurses, hand over the hellacious patients who remained in the ER and head home. You’d grabbed a few of your school books, a snack and your black journal that held your worst thoughts.

“Fuck.” You whisper, realizing you had nothing to drink. Already feeling too tired to move, you decided to go without a drink for the time being and enjoy your lunch. You head out of the locker room when a psych patient bumps into you, knocking everything in your hands into the floor. You watch as your fellow nurses chase the naked man around. You bend down to pick up your books and notes that got scattered, when you see a hand grabbing some of the papers.

“Always a fun filled night.” Jack Abbot says, reaching you some of your notes. Your chest gets tight. It had only been a few months since you’d started in The Pitt, you’d talked to Jack many times but everytime was like the first. You didn’t know what it was but the man made you nervous.

“Uh. Yeah. It’s my lunch break, so I’m gonna try to get a little peace and quiet.” He smirks, looking at the book in his hands.

“Adult Gerontology Acute Care for The Nurse Practitioner.” He smirks, handing you the book. “Doesn’t look like peace and quiet to me.” You smile, praying he doesn’t notice the redness that sweeps your face.

“I’ll be outside if you guys need me.” You head toward the back, almost running to get a break from the ER. Jack watches you, wanting to follow until he notices a black book open wide laying on the floor near the nurses desk.

Any other time he would have closed it, sat it in your locker and went on about his business. If it was any different thing he’d seen. Seeing the words “Dr. Abbot”? He couldn’t do that. He picks up the book, looking over his shoulder to make sure no one is around and lets his eyes roam over the pages.

April 7th

Dr. Abbot does something to me. I can’t figure out what it was. I feel insane. He’s old, like old enough to be my dad but I can’t get him out of my head. Maybe it’s because I haven’t been laid in so long, or maybe he’s just that handsome. I feel like he’s the kind of guy who talks you through it.

“Holy shit. She called me old!” He whispers to himself, walking toward the locker room so no one catches him invading your privacy.

I would do anything that man told me to. I try to at work, when he says someone needs a shot I am the first one rushing to grab it. IV? I’m on my way to start it, I just hope he notices me. Anything he needs in the ER, I try to be the person who goes. I have noticed, and maybe I’m crazy but he’s started coming to me more than most nurses on night shift. If he told me to get on my knees, I’d make him proud and that’s for sure. Ugh! Isn’t it awful to have these thoughts of a man who probably doesn’t think twice about you? Or worse? Someone YOU WORK WITH AND HAVE TO SEE! Ahhh! It’s time to go back into work.

Jack shuts the journal, knowing if he reads anymore he’s going to have a problem in his scrubs that will be quite obvious to everyone else.

You sit down, throwing your head back and looking up at the dark sky. You grab your books, deciding if you want to study or to tell your journal all about this insane night. You decide to put studying off, you feel your heart drop when you notice the book is gone. It’s okay. Maybe you dropped it. Your eyes widen, realizing when the psych patient ran into you it probably did drop. You grab the rest of your books, thoughts racing and trying not to make it noticeable that you’re running to find your book. What if Ellis finds it? Shen would have an absolute field day with it. Or worse, if the man who is the main character of your dirty writing found it. You realize your nightmare has come true when you walk into the locker room, seeing Jack holding your book. He smiles seeing you walk in, almost feeling bad when he notices the fear written all over your face.

“Please tell me you did not read that.” You say, knowing the answer but trying to hope for the best. He smiles, standing up and handing you the book.

“I wish I could say I didn’t, but when my name is highlighted in pink with a heart at the top of the page, it’s hard to look away from. Besides, I only read one page, I figured there is some not safe for work material in there.” You feel like you could hit the floor right now, die from embarrassment. Maybe you’d get a head injury and forget all of this? Maybe you can change your name and move across country?

“No. No. No.” You say, hanging your head down. You want to cry, embarrassment flooding through your body. You know for sure you’ll be fired, having dirty writings, erotica at work about the doctor you work with. He lifts your head up, making you look him in the eyes.

“First, I want to say you’re my right hand here. I see how hard you work and how you care for these things people. It never, ever goes unnoticed.” Okay. Not the reaction you expected, you wait for the but.

“And,” he starts. And? You feel your chest tighten, and waiting on him to tell you to get out of the ER.

“I would absolutely talk you through it.” He drops his hand, winking at you as he does and handing you the book. With that, he’s out the door and back to the floor. You’re stunned, trying to process what just happened. You see a piece of paper sticking up from the book, you open it to see an address.

“Come by anytime and bring the book. I’d like to read more.” You feel your heart race, still trying to decide if this is really happening.

And of course trying to decide what store to shop on your way home for some new lingerie.

[gigiwritess]

[gigiwritess]

being abused or neglected really makes it clear how many things are skills that nobody really treats as. skills. exercising autonomy is a skill. listening to your body is a skill. resting is a skill. being liked and being loved are skills. nobody tells you how to do this shit because nobody even told me I was supposed to have learnt these things when I was a kid. I kind of just have to manually figure out what makes me freak out and work from there. unfair as shit

[gigiwritess]

Doctor, Deputy Chief, and Mayor. It’s been a full season of pretending I know what I’m doing. - Shawn Hatosy via Twitter

SIR YOU KNOW WHAT YOU’RE DOING YOU AIN’T SLICK

[gigiwritess]

the curls…….

jack abbot sending you a selfie while he’s at work….. i’m unwell

[gigiwritess]

Sylvia Plath, aged 25, from "The Unabridged Journals of Sylvia Plath" (dated February 5, 1958)

[gigiwritess]

abbot forgot the concept of personal space a long time ago.

it's not like he can remember a time when he's had any of his own. field hospitals aren't built for comfort or movability, they're built to save live as quickly and efficiently as humanly possible. that meant compromising personal space for for getting the job done and abbot made that trade willingly.

but you're a civilian, trained in wide open labs and spacious trauma rooms, so of course you're left speechless the first time you run a code with abbot, standing nose to nose at the side of a patient while he walks you through what is possibly the most intimate procedure you'll ever perform.

it's hard to think, let alone breathe with him standing so lose, yet somehow you manage. but even when the procedure's done, he doesn't step back. no, he clings to that closeness while he tells you just how proud you should be for pulling that off.

you're lightheaded for the rest of your shift. drunk on the scent of cologne and antiseptic that is just so him.

it becomes the expectation. leaning shoulder to shoulder against the counter in central while there's a lull in patients. thighs pressed against each others while the two of you stand over a patient arguing over proper treatment with walsh and garcia. his chest almost pressed to your back while you're getting screamed at by a patients mother. he's not interfering because he knows you don't need his help. it's just a reminder. not only to you, but to the mother. he's got your back, but god help that woman if you decide you're tired of being the one to deal with her.

so when the entire pitt crew ends up in a bar down the street from the hospital after a particularly nasty car pile up that had required all hands on deck, you don't flinch when takes the seat next to yours in the booth. or when presses himself closer to make more room. and especially not when his hands finds its way to your back, tracing along your spine while you lean across the table to talk to another resident and he chats about something nonsensical with robby.

you've both had a couple of drinks and abbot has little regard for personal space sober, so of course he'd be extra touchy under the influence of whiskey. but when his hand finds it way to the nape of your neck, fingers weaving into your hair, and you catch him smirk when the gesture makes you stutter around your words, you know this more than just the influence of booze. it's an overflow of tension. built up after weeks being so close you could practically crawl into each others skin.

when you go out for a smoke break despite the fact that you quit years ago, it's no surprise to either of you that he trail after you, palm burning through the skin of your shirt where it rests on your lower back.

he doesn't waste time once he has you outside. calloused palms cradling your hips with a reverence you've only dreamt of while he pushes your back up against the against the cold brick. you spend what feels like an eternity with your foreheads pressed together, lips ghosting over his while you silently debate who'll take the first move.

jack breaks first because he's always been the weaker of you two when it comes to this kind of thing.

in any other situation you would've been embarrassed by the sound that left your mouth when you tasted the whiskey he'd been sipping on his tongue, but not tonight, not when that sound makes him pull you closer, makes him tug on your hair in a way that has your knees weak,

he kisses like a man who's been deprived of human touch for centuries. as if you're the only person in the world who has finally seen him.

you get so lost in his touch you're not sure you'll ever find your way back. but jack guides you with a careful hands. leaves your lips to press a kiss to your cheek. the corner of your jaw. that sensitive spot just below your ear. the dip of your collarbone. and he stays there, breathing in your scent.

'want you to stay this close' he nips at your skin. 'need you to.'

[gigiwritess]

I think I speak for a lot of people when I say this:

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

[gigiwritess]

*thinks up an idea for a silly quick piece* okay haha let's whip something up real quick

*idea gets more complicated*

*idea gets more complicated*

*idea gets more complicated*

*idea gets more complicated*

oh no

[gigiwritess]

Toby Stephens as James Flint BLACK SAILS | 2.06