#jack abbot drabble

[flofaiiry]

slim pickins ; jack abbot x reader

❝ a boy who's nice that breathes, i swear he's nowhere to be seen ❞

synopsis: a tipsy reader confides her boy troubles to jack, then realizes maybe one of the good men she's been waiting for has been in front of her the whole time. (it's him, he's good men.)

warnings: fem!reader, swearing, alcohol, age gap (unspecified, but jack tells her she's young & calls her 'kid'), reader referred to as a lightweight, reader is on birth control, explicit smut, jack is a consent king, fingering, oral f!receiving, unprotected p in v (don't do that!!), jack is capital L large, praise, finishing inside

wc: ~3.6k

note: i wrote this in one sitting because the idea just hit me like a TRUCK. this is so self indulgent i cant believe i wrote this but i also love it so much so i hope you enjoy!! as always feedback is super appreciated!!!

"it's just... it's like they don't exist! and if they do they've got a girlfriend already, and who can blame them? i'd scoop up the first decent guy i could lay my hands on too!"

jack listens somewhat intently as you continue on your tirade, downing the last sip of the cocktail you've been nursing. you catch the bartender's attention to ask for one more. "don't worry about it. you're young, you've got time. you'll find someone."

"really?" you pick up the freshly made drink placed in front of you and take a larger then necessary sip, gulping almost half of it down in one go.

"yes, really."

you squint, "i'll believe it when i see it." you down the last of the drink like it's a shot, placing the glass down with an emphatic thunk. jack slides it away from you. "i think you've had enough," he says, matter-of-factly. you frown, "i've only had two." he shrugs, "sure, but you're kind of a lightweight." he's got a teasing glint in his eyes as he flags down the bartender, passing him a credit card.

you take the hint and start to rummage through your purse, searching for your wallet. "don't worry about it, i got it." he says, taking his card back from the bartender. "oh! um. thanks!" you smile. he returns it and you can feel your cheeks heat up.

just the alcohol, right? right.

he nods towards the door, "come on, i'll drive you home." you shake your head, "oh no, i can't ask you to do that, i'll just call an uber, it's really no big deal."

"5th and king right? it's on the way, don't worry about it."

you're not quite sure how he knows your address. you probably mentioned it in passing one day, or in a conversation he overhead, but either way, it definitely doesn't help to lessen the warmth in your face.

you nod, "yeah, 5th and king. thanks." jack notices the way your smile goes from polite to genuine. he nods towards the door again, pulling his car keys from his jacket pocket, "let's go."

you walk next to him to his car. hands in your pockets to hide the way you're fidgeting with a hair tie between your fingers.

the drive to your place is relatively quiet, but not silent, not awkward. he asks you when you work next this week, you ask what made him buy this car.

it's comfortable.

before you know it, he's pulling into the parking lot of your building. he reverses into a spot and does that hand-on-the-back-of-the-seat thing that makes every girl go crazy.

you smile at him, "thanks for the ride." your hand finds the door handle, lingering there for a second. "and for listening to me rant about the shitty men of pittsburgh."

he smiles. "happy to be of service."

you swear if you weren't on birth control that smile alone could knock you up.

"i guess i'll see you tuesday then," you click the door open, however reluctantly. he nods, "yeah, see you tuesday."

you step one foot outside the car before you hear his door swinging open too. you look at him across the top of the car, the tiniest hint of confusion on your face. he just shrugs.

"door to door service."

you laugh. has he always been this attractive? or is the alcohol in your system right now making you see things. it's gotta be the alcohol. right? has to be.

he walks up to the building with you, pulling the door open for you.

when did men stop doing this? opening doors for women. when did chivalry die?

it isn't until you hear a familiar laugh that you realize you said that out loud. damn. you really were a lightweight. two little drinks in and you've already lost your filter.

"sorry, i just mean-" you say quickly, trying to recover yourself. he just shakes his head, "i know what you mean."

that smile again. you swear you could melt into a puddle right now. a mix of embarrassment and confusing, sudden attraction doing you in.

you walk in and turn down the hall towards your apartment. jack follows close behind.

"how long have you lived here?" he asks, following you down the winding, dimly lit hallway. "about three years, i think? it's nice. a little dingy, but it's close to work, and grocery stores and stuff like that." you shrug.

"it's got character." he clarifies. "yeah," you exhale, "character."

you arrive at your door. unit 105. you shove your hands into your pockets to find your key, pulling it out along with the attached string of souvenir keychains.

you slide it into the lock and twist, the familiar clicking sound telling you it's open. you place your hand on the doorknob, tentative, before turning to face jack.

"thanks again, for tonight." he smiles. god he has got to stop doing that. "don't mention it."

"no, really, i probably sounded like a bitch going on and on about my... guy troubles. anyone else would have left halfway through so, thanks."

"don't worry about it," he locks his eyes onto yours. "you're a good kid, you'll find a... what was it you said? a real man?"

you laugh.

yeah, like you?

his eyebrows twitch.

shit.

out loud again.

your hand flies to cover your mouth, "oh my god, jack i am so sorry i cannot believe i said that out loud! oh my- i am so. sorry. i'm so embarrassed, i-" he can't help but laugh, "it's fine, i-"

"no! oh my god, it is so not fine, that is so unprofessional of me, i can not believe i just said that," you're gesturing awkwardly now, trying to somehow apologize for your lack of filter.

he takes your hand in his.

"hey," he says, giving it a small squeeze. "it's fine, really. i'm-" he laughs, eyes finding your gaze again.

"i'm flattered." you take a deep breath. a tiny tinge of embarrassment leaving you finally.

when you're standing here like this, so close to him, his eyes on you like this- christ- him holding your hand. you wonder if he's always been like this. if he's always had eyes this endearing and perfectly hazel, hands so warm and calloused, but not rough.

if he's always been this... pretty.

sure he's conventionally attractive anyone could see that. but in this moment it's different.

he's not just attractive. you're attracted to him.

"can i kiss you?"

he raises his eyebrows just the tiniest bit. "you mean to say that out loud?"

you nod. he just stares at you for a second longer. "i'm sorry- that was stupid, i'm probably-"

you're cut off with his lips on yours, and you swear your legs almost give out.

you take a stumbly step forward, and press one hand on his chest to balance yourself, while also leaning more into the kiss.

it's slow at first, tentative. but it's enough, god, it's more than enough. one of his hands slides up your body to rest on the side of your head, gently pulling you away and resting his forehead against yours.

both of your breaths are slow and heavy.

"we don't have to-" he whispers, giving you an out.

"please."

his next exhale is quick. the corner of his mouth twitching upwards as he pulls your lips back into his, this time more sure. you swear you almost moan into his mouth.

he doesn't say anything. doesn't laugh, like other men might, doesn't make a joke about how desperate you are. he just absorbs the sound, and if anything lets it fuel him.

his tongue easily slips into the mix, hand travelling down to your waist and pulling you against him.

you snake your hands up his back and lace them into the little hairs at the top of his neck. not tugging, just there. the pads of his fingers press into your lower back, steadying you to walk half a step backward towards the door.

his free hand shoots out to feel for the doorknob, twisting it once he finds it then pushing open the door. he moves it back to your waist as he ushers you both into the apartment.

"bedroom?"

"first door down the hall." you say, barely pulling away long enough to do so.

god, you can't get enough of him.

you make your way towards it, jack's eyes cracked open just enough to make sure he doesn't send you back-first into a wall. when you finally reach the room, jack eases you back down onto your bed, brushing your hair from your face & crawling on top of you.

"you sure you want this? i don't want you to feel taken advantage of or anything- i know you had something to drink earlier."

you cut him off with a kiss, slow and sure. "i had two drinks jack, at most i'm a little tipsy. i'm sure as hell sober enough to know i want this though."

"you sure?"

"i want this, jack. please. i want you."

with that, he kisses you again with a heat that's new to this whole encounter. a hunger.

his lips part from yours, beginning to trail from the side of your mouth, to your jaw, and then starting their descent down your neck. he doesn't rush, but doesn't take his time either. he spends no more time than necessary sucking the tiniest of marks into your skin.

his hands roam down to the waistband of your pants, tugging your tucked shirt out from underneath it, then sliding beneath the material to your stomach.

he pulls away form your neck and takes his hands out from under your shirt and begins unbuttoning the shirt you're wearing

you're thanking whatever gods are out there for making you wear a button up to the bar tonight.

he makes quick work of the buttons, greedily pushing the material aside to reveal your bra. it's simple, nothing extravagant. it's not like you were expecting to go home with jack abbot tonight.

but nonetheless, jack thinks you look perfect. and he makes sure you know it.

"god, you are so beautiful." he says, voice ragged before he dips his head back down to kiss along the newly exposed skin of your chest. hand sliding up your body to palm over your breast.

though it's through the material, it feels so good.

he moves a hand under your body and toys with the clasp of the bra.

"can i?" he pauses to look up at you nodding eagerly, "yeah, please." you breathe.

with a single movement he's released the clasp and is pulling the material off of you in another. "did i tell you you're beautiful?" he says again, practically ogling at your bare chest.

you smile, "you may have mentioned it, yeah."

he returns it, before dipping back down to kiss along the swell of your breast, then the skin between them. your head tilts back into the pillow just the tiniest bit at the sensation.

his hands now finally travel down your body to the waistband of your pants, messing with the button and zipper there. he leaves one last mark on your chest before pulling away to give it his full attention. he undoes them quickly, and slides the pants down your legs, tossing them idly somewhere in the room and revealing your basic underwear.

again, not like you were expecting any action tonight.

he kisses your lips again, one hand remaining between your legs, pressing just shy of where you needed him the most over the thin material of your underwear.

you can't stop the way your back arches the slightest bit at the sudden feeling, the way you exhale into his mouth. he pulls away from the kiss to move himself down the bed to position himself between your legs. he hooks his fingers around the black material and pulls the panties off of you.

you're fully exposed to him now, your cunt glistening from the lead up. jack can't help but smirk, running a single finger from bottom to top, pressing down slightly when he reaches your clit.

your hips rock into him at the touch, one of his hands pushing you back down into the mattress while the other slides a finger inside you with absolutely no resistance.

"oh my god," you breathe upon his entrance.

you're so wet, so ready that jack almost immediately adds a second finger. he watches for your reaction, and takes the way your breath hitches and your eyes fall shut as a signal that you liked that.

he dips his head down between your legs, pressing a barely there kiss against your clit before jetting his tongue out over it, making you whine.

"god- fuck, jack," you say, breathy, "feels so good."

he just hums against you, the vibration adding a new layer of pleasure as if his fingers and mouth weren't enough. somewhere along the line, the soft licks and kisses to your clit turn into sucks, the pressure causing the knot at the pit of your stomach to grow.

his fingers curl up into you, against that one spot that makes you see stars. your head rolls backwards into the pillows, sharp exhale leaving your lips.

you clench around his fingers, desperate for even more. jack takes the hint, you feel him grin against your pussy before pressing the tip of his tongue, hard, against your clit.

one of your hands finds it's way into his hair, gently tugging at the curls, the other grasping at the sheets for dear life.

he pulls away from your core for a moment, but only a moment, and only to say what you think is probably the hottest thing a man has ever said to you.

"come for me baby, come on. wanna feel you cum on my fingers."

dear lord.

as quickly as he pulled away his lips are back around your clit, licking and sucking at it like it's his full time job, fingers pumping mercilessly in and out of your soaking cunt as he draws you towards your orgasm.

you breathing gets reckless, your hand tightens around the curls of his hair and your eyes cinch shut as you come. your jaw falls open but no sound leaves at first, until a choked moan makes it's way out. a sound jack wishes he'd just recorded.

jack's mouth and fingers don't stop. not immediately, not until you're well over the peak of your orgasm. he slows down just enough that the pleasure doesn't stop, but doesn't overwhelm you either.

after you've come down from the high he presses one last kiss to your clit before standing up between your legs at the foot of the bed.

your breathing is ragged. chest heaving up and down as you clench involuntarily around nothing. jack's hands travel to his belt, undoing the clasp and pulling it off before shoving his pants down to his ankles and stepping out of them.

he takes a step over to you, your eyes having a hard time staying on his face and not the hugely obvious bulge in his boxers. "condom?" he says simply.

you nod, "yeah, there should be one in the top drawer here." he walks over to your night table, crouching slightly to open the top drawer. he pushes the items around looking for the familiar square packet but doesn't see anything.

he tilts his head. "nope, not in here." you sit up in the bed, eyebrows furrowed. "no? i swear there should be some. maybe try the bottom drawer." you watch him close the drawer before opening the one beneath it. it's empty safe for a book or two. he shakes his head, "nope."

"seriously? i could've sworn i had."

"get that much action?" he teases, sliding the drawer shut and standing up.

you almost cackle. "no, i get so little action that i didn't even know i was out."

he smiles, walking over to where his pants lie taking out his wallet and flipping through it briefly.

"i mean... i'm on the pill if that's- i don't know, a peace of mind? i don't think i have anything, fuck, i cant even remember the last time i was with anybody."

he closes his wallet, seemingly unsuccessful in his search. he looks up at you, "you sure?"

"yeah," you nod. "i mean if you're not comfortable with it, obviously we don't have to, i just- i'm okay with it." you clarify.

he smiles, putting his wallet back into the pants pocket and dropping it back onto the floor. "yeah, okay." he takes a step towards you then hooking his fingers into his boxers and pulling them down.

it's embarrassing but you cant help the way your eyebrows raise at the sight of him.

"anybody ever teach you it's not polite to stare?" he teases.

you look up to his eyes, noticing the stupid smirk on his face. "yeah- sorry, just. wow."

he laughs, "wow." he repeats, the tiniest hint of mocking present in his tone as he crawls back over you.

"oh, shut up." you say, pulling him down to kiss him.

mouth still on yours, he positions his cock at your entrance. the feeling of his tip ever so gently brushing at your clit causing your breath to catch in your throat. lips never ceasing against yours he starts to push inside of you.

the stretch is unlike any you've ever felt before. it's almost painful, but it feels too damn good to call it that. your walls adapt around his length as he slowly buries his cock inside you.

after a few seconds he's fully inched his way inside you. he doesn't move- not yet, just keeps kissing you to ease the tension, lips slow and passionate against yours.

you're practically panting now, the pleasure all consuming.

jack traces his lips down to your neck again. "you okay? ready?" he asks against your skin.

you nod, eager as ever. he picks up his head to look at you, "words, pretty girl."

"yes, jack. please fuck me, need it so bad." you breathe out, still nodding as you lock eyes with him. he smirks and it's like a switch has flipped inside of him. he gently pulls out of you before snapping his hips back against you again. his every thrust is controlled, measured to bring you the most pleasure possible.

the grunts and breaths leaving him are nothing short of sinful, and the soft noise of his hips hitting yours flood into the room amongst your whimpers.

"you like that?" he asks, and there's no answer you could give other than, "god, yes." the way he fills you just right, the way he's looking down at you, the way he kisses your lips and neck every now and then... jack abbot has got the formula down pat.

"faster, please jack. need more," you whine, legs wrapping around his waist and pulling him flush to your body.

"yeah?" he tilts his head. cocky bastard.

you nod quickly. "yes- god, please."

with a smirk perfectly matching his earlier tone of voice jack obliges you, increasing his pace and earning a moan from you.

"yeah, keep making those noises for me. good girl."

good girl. the word replayed your head, and you're pretty sure it would loop on and on for the rest of your life. (not that there was even a slight problem with that),

when the familiar knot builds back up in the pit of your tummy, you find yourself clenching around jack, earning a sharp inhale from him.

"you keep that up, i won't last much longer."

he moves his hips relentlessly, every thrust taking you closer to your second orgasm. " 'm so close, jack, please." you breathe, hands practically raking down his back. you're sure your nails will leave marks.

jack doesn't mind.

"yeah? gonna come for me?" you nod quickly. "yes. god, yes, so close." you whine, earning another smirk from jack. that smirk is going to be burned into your retinas for years to come.

"come for me, pretty girl. show me how good i make you feel, huh?"

his pace doesn't let up. not when you're moaning his name, or clenching around him and suddenly he's the one seeing stars.

one, two three more rocks of his hips into you and you're falling apart. orgasm tearing through you so hard you're practically tearing up from the pleasure.

"good girl, just like that." he coaxes, beginning to lose his own control now. your nails dig into his back as he continues to rut into you.

" 'm close," he says through grunts. "so close i- where do you want it." he says quickly

"inside, please, need to feel you." you breathe, still coming down from your own high as jack is roaring towards his at full speed.

he nods, hearing you tell him to come inside of you snaps the last thread of his control, and with a groan he's spilling inside you, filling you up.

you roll your head back into the pillows at the feeling, legs instinctively tightening around his waist to pull him deeper into you as he comes.

"god- fuck." he whispers, hips stuttering as he finishes. a few more lazy thrusts into you, then jack is pulling out. breath catching in both of your throats at the loss of contact. jack rolls off of you, flopping beside you on your bed. your symphony of labored breathes the only sound filling the room.

"wow." you exhale.

"yeah." he agrees. "wow."

"that was-"

"yeah. it was."

you laugh, rolling over onto your side to face him. he turns his head to look at you. his earlier cocky smirk replaced with a genuine smile.

"still think there are no good men out there?" he teases, brushing a stray piece of hair from your face.

"eh, maybe just one."

this is so horny and self indulgent i am so sorry (no im not)

as always my inbox is always open for feedback / requests / ideas / thoughts. i would love to hear what u have to say!!! 🫶🏻🫶🏻🫶🏻

[abbotsanatomy]

Jack x reader

Possessive & Protective Jack. Reader is the hospital social worker. Jack finds out a grieving family member has been stalking and harassing reader.!

⨳ (I’LL BE WATCHING YOU)

pairing: jack abbot x social worker!reader warnings: age gap (28, and 49), depictions of stalking, grief, child death, epilepsy (seizures), verbal assault, physical assault. author's note: this was a rough one to write tbh! hope u like! title’s totally inspired by ‘every breath you take,’ i love double meanings lol

“Good morning!” you greet, strolling into the ER break room.

You set aside the coffees you bought for everyone. It's your turn to bring everyone their fix tonight. They're nothing fancy, as can be expected from someone who earns almost half of what everyone else around here does.

You pick one of the brown coffee cups up from the paper cupholder on the counter, “Or, Y'know. Good night?”

“Live-saver!” one of the second-year residents yells. She's quick to grab one of the coffees, too.

The few people in the break room do the same, thanking you along the way. They slowly filter out, presumably going to tell everyone the break room's stocked up again so they can get their own before it's all gone.

It's just you and Dana Evans in the small room now. She's never been one for rushing home the moment her shift's over. She always lingers, you feel like you might know her even better than the night shift's charge nurse. The affinity you have for her can also be attributed, in huge part, to the fact that the veteran charge nurse reminds you of Dr.Abbot.

“Hey, kid. I heard what happened yesterday,” she starts. “Are you good?”

Wow. Word gets around much quicker than you expected. What happened yesterday should've been less than a blip on someone like Dana's radar.

The situation in question was just a grieving parent who'd said some pretty nasty things to you. He was in shock. You understand. You have to; it's your job.

His anger was justified. You were partially responsible for him missing his kid's last few moments. The memories kept you up all day.

The girl was barely two. When they came in, she was having an epileptic seizure that wouldn't go away. Upon further investigation, the doctors, with a neuro consult, told her father there was a surgery that could reduce her seizures. He'd heard about it before, but he was skeptical.

Apparently, having had his seizing daughter in his arms, unable to do anything but wait for an ambulance changed his mind.

There was one minor problem, though. Before they could get his daughter prepped for surgery, the hospital needed his insurance documents. She was stable; this wasn't emergency surgery. So the financial aspect was, unfortunately, a priority.

“Her mother's out of town. It's just me. I can't leave her alone,” he'd told you.

“Well, she still needs to be monitored for a while. And I understand you want the surgery immediately,” you'd reasoned with him. “Maybe you can make it home and back quickly, before she wakes up.”

He was hesitant at first, but you were determined. You'd help where you can.

“I'll be with her the whole time. I promise. Our doctors will do the best they can to make sure she's comfortable and safe.”

Safe. What a stupid word to use. She wasn't safe when he came back. She was dead.

She'd had another seizure minutes after he left. The entire medical team tried their best, you know that. You were there, holding her hand through it all. Begging her to stay strong for her dad.

When he came back, he was held back by security as he shouted all kinds of evil truths at you.

“You bitch.”

“You all killed her.”

“I could've been here if it wasn't for you!”

It was all true.

His words have replayed in your mind ever since. So, no, you aren't good. But there's nothing a charge nurse you're sure has been through worse can do about it, so you won't tell her.

“Mhm, I'm fine. Don't worry about me,” you lie, straight to her face.

You have a feeling she doesn't believe you, but she's also smart enough to recognize when someone doesn't want to talk about something. So, she drops it.

“Alright. Be kind to yourself, okay? Take some time off if you need it,” she advises, and you trust her judgement. It isn't like you'll listen to her, though.

“Okay. I'll try.”

Dana walks out of the break room, but not before giving you a long hug. On a good day, you'd be soaring with happiness. Today, it makes you feel just slightly better.

You're mid-sip when your favorite attending walks in. Jack looks shocked to see you. He'd given you the exact same advice Dana just did. You'd obviously not taken it.

He walks towards the counter you're leaning against. You feel like he's about to tell you off. He just stands there for a long moment. Then, he's searching your face for something. A sign of distress, maybe?

He doesn't find whatever it is he's looking for. You smile at how ridiculous this staring habit of his is.

“Are you good?” he parrots Dana.

Your brows crease, “Have you and Nurse Evans been talking about me?”

Jack looks confused.

“I'm fine. I'm great, even. Okay?” you demand.

He nods, but it's very hesitant.

“I have a shrink. I'm seeing her after work. You don't have to worry about me,” you reiterate.

Everything he could say was said yesterday. He reassured you for thirty minutes after, brought you water and food in between patients. There's nothing more he can say right now.

He just grabs one of the coffees you brought, “Thank you.”

His tone's a little too sincere for what this is. You'll take it.

You both exit the break room and part ways to get on with your shifts. His eyes are front and center in your mind the entire time, especially when you need some comfort.

You've been on edge lately. You're flinching at things you aren't supposed to. You close your curtains whenever you're home alone. You just can't shake this feeling that you're being watched.

The 90$-an-hour therapist you visit once a month says it's a symptom of your PTSD. That's of no consequence, because the anxiety feels as real as can be. Your nerves are fried all the time.

You need a break. There's one person in particular you want to spend your time off with. He's been invited to your apartment for dinner tonight. Thankfully, Jack hasn’t embarrassed you by rejecting your invitation.

He's just texted you that he's on his way now. You're in the kitchen with your cooking playlist playing in the background. It's the kind of mellow moment you haven't experienced in weeks. You're bringing the wooden mixing spoon up to your mouth to get a taste, when the moment's rudely interrupted.

Someone's pulling you back, with their arm tightly wrapped around your throat. This isn't psychosis, paranoia, or PTSD. This is real.

You try to hit back with the spoon in your hand, but it quickly clatters to the floor, splattering soup everywhere.

Your next line of defense is clawing your way out. Literally. You scratch and pull away at the stranger's arm. It's minimally effective. You're trying to scream out for help, too. It barely comes out as a squeak.

Your vision's getting blurry, when you feel someone tackle the intruder, bringing them to the floor. You can hear an altercation happening on your floor, right next to where you're coughing up a storm, just trying to catch your breath again.

Someone's landing more than a few punches, in the distance. The sound becomes much less distressing when you realize it's Jack who has the upper hand in this fight. His eyes lack the tenderness they usually have when you’re staring back at them.

“Jack...” you croak out, trying to pull him out of it.

He stops, pulling the guy under him up by the collar. That's when you realize it's the same grieving man who was shouting at you in the middle of the PTMC’s emergency room, less than a week ago.

Jack slams him against your kitchen wall, his arm pinning the man in place by the throat. On the floor, beside you, is a set of pictures. They must've fallen from the man’s pocket mid-brawl. They're all of you. At your therapist's office. At home. At work.

He's been watching you, following you. The realization fills you with dread.

You pull your phone out and dial 911 immediately.

“Are you okay?” Jack asks, his eyes still set on the man in front of him.

“Yes, I'm fine. Be gentle,” you tell him.

He shakes his head subtly. He'd be smiling a little too, if he wasn't so angry at the man in front of him. Of course, you'd want him to be gentle with the man who was about to kill you. You've always seen the best in everyone.

He can’t ever deny you a thing, so he's as gentle as he can be, with how furious he is right now.

“911, what's your emergency?” you hear on the other end.

Jack takes care of it all. Tells the officers what happened, shows them the pictures, escorts them out. All you could manage for now was a few hums in agreement to the questions the officers asked you.

Once they left, Jack came to sit beside you on the couch. Now, he’s been staring at your neck intensely. You can tell he wants to take a look.

“Do you mind?”

“Nope,” you answer, pulling your hair to the side.

His fingers are gentle on your neck, as they graze the bruise forming there.

His voice is tight, like he's still barely containing his anger, “It looks alright. It'll just be slightly bruised.”

You nod, “Thank you. For everything.”

Your hand finds his, interlocking your fingers. He brings your joined hands up to his mouth, to place a chaste kiss onto the back of your hand. You grin, and finally look up from the spot on your carpet you’d been staring at.

There's a cut on his cheek, still bleeding. You bring your other hand to rest on his cheek, pressing your mouth to the skin beside the cut.

“Let me take care of that for you,” you offer.

It's almost like he didn't even hear you, though. “You probably shouldn't go to work tomorrow.”

You nod in agreement, “Yeah, probably.

“Can you stay?” you propose, barely louder than a whisper.

You're asking because it'd make you feel safer. He can tell. He agrees, immediately.

You pull your hand away to go grab the first aid kit in your bathroom cabinet. You're also rehearsing how you're going to convince him to sleep in your bed with you, instead of the couch. He ends up being very easy to convince.

[criminalamnesia]

idk just thinking about starting a thing with Jack after the two of you have been dancing around it for a while— stolen glances, lingering touches, slipping snacks into pockets and working so seamlessly together.

it’s not something you two have labeled yet, but everyone in the ED knows because god you two are so obvious and insufferably in love with one another.

but you want to take things slow, and Jack obliges because you’re more vulnerable in this position than he is (you’re his resident and he’s an attending) (and it’s actually killing him to take things slow but he does it for you).

you’re off on the day of pitt fest and so is jack but you know he just had a hellish night shift so you tell him to rest up and that you’ll see him tomorrow night when you both work again.

your friend surprises you with a plus-one ticket to pitt fest— and you hesitate but ultimately end up going, knowing that the exhaustion you’ll feel tomorrow will be worth it, even if you’re gonna need an extra energy drink or three to get through your shift.

you don’t tell jack. why would you? it’s last minute and you’re giddy and he’s off— probably sleeping, you assume— and you don’t want to bother him because this is new and you’re not his girlfriend.

then the worst happens. someone opens fire. you lose your friend in the ensuing chaos and you’re terrified, but you snap into resident mode and start trying to help. holding pressure on a wound here, checking a pulse on a body there, dodging and weaving through the masses as you try to save anyone you can.

everyone gets called into the ED. so when jack strides into the department, mind already racing in preparation of the madness to come, his eyebrows lift when he doesn’t spot you among the team briefing.

he asks dana if she’s heard from you, and the charge nurse shakes her head. “I’ll keep tryin’,” she tells him. he accepts that and moves forward.

he doesn’t have any reason to worry. you said you would see him tomorrow. he figured you were probably in bed already and your phone was on silent. no big deal. as much as he would love your expertise (and general calming, reassuring presence) in this scenario, he can push through. he did before you.

dana stays true to her word and calls you ten times in the span of two minutes, but it goes unbeknownst to you, as your phone is currently face down in a puddle of someone else’s blood. you were too busy worrying about others to even notice it had fallen out of your pocket.

when the variety of vehicles start rolling up to the ED, everyone is too busy saving lives to worry about who didn’t show up to help. no one cares about your absence.

and then ellis opens up a truck’s tailgate, and she pulls out a body— and when she gets it on the gurney, she looks at the face to quickly assess for head injuries and her heart nearly stops in her chest.

it’s you.

blood smattered on your face, a large gash running from your forehead to your cheek. your eyelids flutter, your breathing is shallow and coming in quick pants.

“shen!” ellis screams, and the attending rushes over, eyebrows furrowed before his gaze lands on you.

“shit,” he breathes, looking to ellis before back down at you.

along with an obviously broken leg and numerous cuts and already-blooming bruises, you’ve been shot. blood flows from a wound in your gut, and your hands twitch as they move towards it, trying to keep pressure on it.

“red, she’s a red—” ellis is saying, slapping a bracelet on you and commandeering your gurney. she rushes towards the doors, eyes wild as she enters the ER and looks for someone— anyone— that can help.

“robby!” she yells across the madness when she spots the attending. he’s finishing up with a patient and getting ready to move to another, but his head jerks up at the sound of his name.

“need you over here!” ellis calls, and robby’s brows furrow as he looks over his shoulder to say something to jack— fuck, jack— before he’s weaving towards her.

“what is it?” robby asks, eyes instantly going to the card tied around your wrist.

“it’s fucking y/n.”

and robby’s eyes dart up so fast he almost gets whiplash. he instantly recognizes you and he curses under his breath, anxiety clawing up from his gut and encircling his heart. beginning to squeeze as your eyes crack open and your chest heaves.

“don’t…” you gasp out, one of your hands blindly reaching for the attending. “let…him see.” each word comes painful and slow, and you don’t even notice that other faces have gathered around you as you speak.

your friends— your family— all gasp and cry and furiously begin to come to your aid but you don’t even realize it. because your eyes are locked on robby’s.

“you….need….him.”

and you don’t even have to say who you’re talking about, because everyone in the fucking PTMC knows that you and jack abbot are a thing. and robby exhales shakily, tears filling his eyes, but he has a job to do. and so he gets to work.

and he knows for a fact that he will lose someone tonight, regardless of you living or dying.

either way, he doesn’t know if jack will forgive him for this. for purposefully hiding your arrival and trying to save your life without him.

as much as it pains him at the thought, he knows that he has to do what’s best for the department. for the other hundred people that are coming through the doors tonight.

so he nods to himself. tells himself he’s doing the right thing.

and then he loses your pulse.

[allllium]

The Guy at the Bar

[ Jack Abbot x reader ]

~ Fluff, maybe ooc Abbot? WC: 1899

~ Prequel to Just a Bit of Fun

[ - Banner coming Soon - ]

- You meet a maybe grumpy old man at a bar

Being a doctor is no joke.

After a 12 hour shift all you want to do is chill for a while and maybe have a beer. What a better place to do that then a janky old bar with only one worker and shady people hiding in every corner.

It's definitely not the fanciest place ever, but it's cheap and convenient. Ten times better than going home and cooking for yourself.

You've had a hard day and going home seems too daunting at the moment. Maybe you'll feel better after scrolling on your phone with cheap food and even cheaper drinks.

But no, of course the world just has to throw something else your way today. As if a hard day working at a shitty hospital isn't enough.

"Excuse me." You say to older man sitting on the corner bar stool. The stool you sit in after almost every hard shift at the hospital just a street over.

"What." It's not a question. Just a word thrown out with no real interest in the answer. You pause for a spilt second. Confused at his harsh tone but you're not the only one that has hard days.

"Is there any way you could move to another stool?" You try to ask as polite as possible. You know he has no reason to listen to your request but you're not one that does well with change. Even something as small as a stool. A routine is important. Especially while working in a place as chaotic as an ER everyday.

"Why?" He asks, this time with a little interest. At least you think. You can't tell considering he has a completely straight face and won't take his eyes off the drink in front of him.

"I sit here every time I come here." You try to explain in a way that doesn't make you sound dramatic or childish. By the way his lip curls up on the side, you don't think you succeeded.

"Must come here a lot to have your own stool." He doesn't look your way or pay any attention to you. If he hadn't responded so quick you'd think he was ignoring you entirely.

"I work a hard job. Sometimes I just want to relax with some bad bar fries." You don't have to explain yourself. You could find another stool instead of standing here over explaining yourself to a complete stranger. A stool is not a big deal and this man shows no sign of moving.

"At seven in the morning?" There's no judgement is his tone. He seems more like he's trying to get a simple read on you. Not really necessary in order to switch stools but you won't question him, out loud.

"I work nights. What's your excuse?" He gives you a other lip curl and tilts his head to actually look at you for the first time during this conversation.

"You're not the only one on the night shift." He takes a second to actually look you. Unfortunately after a long shift, you know you probably look like a mess.

"Y'know we don't have to bond for you to move." You match his strange voice. If you had to pin his vibes down, it would be an uneven mixture of mystique and sadness.

"My stool, my rules." He shrugs and finishes his drink.

"Oh that is not your stool and you know it." You're ashamed of the whine that comes through your words, luckily it's masking your struggle to not laugh. You wouldn't want him to downplay how serious this is.

"My ass is on it."

"Well your ass is about to be knocked out of it." He turns back around to face you with an eyebrow raised. You're not actually gonna knock him on his ass. That's a very dramatic reaction to a simple situation and this man is far too scary looking to even consider it.

"Wow. Wasn't expecting to be threatened by a stranger today." He doesn't look worried at all. Makes sense. You are complaining about a stool.

"In this city? You're just asking for issues at that point. You should always be weary of strangers."

His eyes widen just enough to be noticeable. "I'm pretty I could handle it."

"Alright but I don't want to hear any complaining when you end up on the floor." You laugh and he continues staring at you intensely.

He takes another look at you before turning back to his drink. "Fine I'll move. Wouldn't want to end up on such a nasty floor." He eventually resigned. You want to think your toughness scared him off but realistically he got annoyed by your presence.

You're about to celebrate this small win but he gets up and sits back down on the stool directly next to yours.

"Why man? Why?" He smirks to himself as you sigh in confusion and annoyance but still sit on your stool to celebrate your small victory.

"I'm Jack." He introduces. He doesn't do anything fancy like reach out to shake your hand. Once again you'd believe he's ignoring you if it weren't for his short responses.

"How interesting." You remark in fake uncaring. Of course you're secretly excited that this handsome man wanting to introduce himself to you, unprompted at that.

"Do I not get to get know your name?"

"I see no reason why you need it." You shrug as you wait for the bartender. "For all I know you'll try to follow me home and murder me."

"I am definitely not gonna do that."

"Exactly what a murder would say." You double down, not looking his way.

"Okay, that's fair." He raises his hands in play defense. "But in my defense it's also what a non-murderer would say."

"Well I guess I'll never know."

You fall into silence until the bartender comes. You chose not to order an alcohol for the day and instead settle for a simple appetizer. He orders another of whatever he had been drinking when you arrived.

"So what is your hard job?"

"You're real chatty aren't you?"

"You must bring it out of me." You shake your head with a smile. You look over to see a similar smirk on his face.

"I'm a doctor." You decide to answer. What's the harm of indulging a men you'll never see again. Granted he's not a murderer or alcoholic.

"What a coincidence, so am I." He turns his entire body to face more in your direction.

"Coincidence indeed. What kind?" He doesn't give you doctor vibes at all.

He sighs heavily and takes a big drink. "ER."

"No shit." You turn your body towards him as well. Now you're completely facing each other. For the first time can see his whole face. It's probably just the bar lighting but he's extremely good looking.

"You too?"

"Yeah, just across the street."

"That place is the worst."

"Definitely. Where are you at?" As you talk he leans over and steals a piece of your food. You're about to lecture him but he shakes his head at you and offers a bit of his drink. What the fuck is up with this guy?

It makes you laugh to yourself. You never thought you'd meet such a weird guy in such a weird place. Actually that makes a lot of sense. You shouldn't be too surprised.

"Pittsburgh Trauma."

"I've heard no good things about that place." Apparently the staff calls it The Pitt. Nothing good can come from that name.

"It's not so bad."

"So says the man on drink two at seven in the morning."

"What can I say, I'm a lot more positive after two drinks."

"This is you being positive?" He chuckles at your slight surprise.

"You come here after every shift?" He asks suddenly, changing the subject completely.

"Not all of them. Usually when I'm too tired to cook or had a hard shift." You sigh and reach over to take a sip of his drink. If he's gonna be weird, so can you. Here's hoping he doesn't have any sort of strange disease you can catch. "Why are you here?"

"Hard shift. As usual."

"Trauma's tough."

"Y'know we almost always have positions available." He casually mentions. Now that the bar is close to closing they turn up the lights just a little bit. It's unusual how seeimh him in more light, makes him more attractive. You can see a lot better how much older than you he is.

"Sorry are you trying to make me come work for you." You chortle at his not so subtle antics.

"We could always use more people."

"You don't even know my name, let alone how good of a doctor I am." Before he can answer, you decide to order a drink after all. It might help ease the nerves of talking to Jack. You've only been referring to him as that guy in your mind. Even thinking his name changes the vibe of this situation.

Once you're done ordering, Jack leans slightly into your space. "It's okay, I could teach you."

He says it with a straight face. It's very hard to tell if he's flirting or not. Does he mean to sound so flirty with that or is he just very serious about his job? Maybe it's just his voice making it sound like this.

"Unfortunately I require no teaching." You say it quietly because he's still leaned over to you. He has his arm resting on the bar and his hand holding his head.

"So you say." Okay. Flirting or insulting? This guy is hard to read but you're not about to ask him for clarification. Wait maybe that'd be a good thing, he strikes you as the type to like that.

"Do you always offer jobs to people you meet in bars?"

"No this would be a first. You seem interesting."

"Usually if you wanna flatter someone you call them something better than interesting."

"I'm not trying to flatter you."

"Are you not? Maybe it's just the tone of your voice that gives that impression."

"My tone?" He wonders in genuine curiosity.

"Yeah it's confusing. You could be super excited or about to jump off a roof and I can't tell which."

He immediately lets out a loud, bold laugh.

"I think you can read me a lot better than you think." He admits with lingering hints of laughter.

"Spend some time on roofs do you?" You copy his pose by resting your arm on the bar and putting your head in your hand.

Naturally, this pose moves you both closer together than before. You're realizing now how close together the stools are.

"More than the average."

Checking your phone, you notice how close it is to closing.

"Oh what a great note to end off with." You chuckle to yourself as you get up to pay your bill.

Jack doesn't move from his seat and you decide to give him the benefit of the doubt. You highly doubt a murderer would come as strange as he has.

Before you leave, you chose to give him your receipt with your name on it.

He grabs your wrist to stop you from walking away so quick. "Think about what I said. We'd love an employee I don't have to teach."

"We'll see."

- This was a lot harder to write than I thought

[mercvry-glow]

Too short to be a fic, too long to be an open drabble so enjoy some jack and night shift reader 😘

Made myself sad thinking about Jack and night shift reader, who’s a young r3–you’ve been with him since the starts of your residency, and have no plans on leaving the program even after boards. You’re close. Closer than you probably should be a for a mentor/mentee relationship. You know each other’s quirks, what works and what doesn’t in your relationship. So imagine when pitt fest happens, everyone is frantic, zones are crowded and you’re stuck in red with more victims piling in by the second.

Jack is in one of the main bays with Robby, Mohan and a few others from day shift. You’ve seen bad, night shift always gets the weird and scary shit that would never happen in the light of day.

But this is too much.

You’ve never felt this overwhelmed before. You’re completely alone here, flying the seat of your blood stained scrub pants. Nobody’s died under your care (yet), but you’re not confident in your ability to keep that under control much longer.

John’s not there to crack jokes with you… Parker isn’t around to share a granola bar and a packet of goldfish… Jack isn’t next to you saying that you’ve done enough, that you’ve done a good job.

Normally you can seek him out, tonight there’s no point.

You weren’t even supposed to work tonight.

By the time it dies down, you’re already in the bathroom crashing. The door is locked and you can feel your phone vibrating in your pocket. A call or two, definitely more than a handful of texts.

Tears run down your cheeks, the hair you put into cute braids before the tragedy started were ruined, black scrubs wrinkled and sticking to you in a way that feels oppressive.

No one’s around to say that’s it’s okay to cry, so you sob instead. Heavy and heaving, cries stealing your air as you gasp and brace yourself on the sink.

You’re not even sure if it’s pitt fest, or the feelings you’ve kept inside bubbling out. You’re overwhelmed, you’re jealous, you’re scared…

It seems unreasonable to feel that way, people died, people got saved—and you’re crying because it’s the job you signed up for, and you couldn’t do it with the man you trusted more than anyone else in your life.

For fucks sake, it’s like you were ten again and separated from your class crush during partner projects.

You couldn’t even steel yourself enough to leave the private bathroom with a straight enough face and head home.

Your phone slipped out of your pocket as you slid down to sit against the bathroom floor.

3 texts from Parker

1 call from John

5 texts and 2 calls from Jack

You only texted Jack back, just your location, telling him you’d find him in a second.

Clearly the person knocking on the door had other plans, you called out to let them know you’d be out soon but the unlocking of the door came as more of a shock.

Admin key in hand, Jack Abbot had broken into your crying session.

“The hell are you doing on the floor kid?” He looked at you with a raised eyebrow, a hint of a smirk on his lips as he looked down at you.

You could only give him half a scoff, as he locked the door behind him moving to lean against it as he continued to watch you.

“Didn’t see you all night, you doing okay?” He asked, if he didn’t know he asked, if he knew he asked anyway, that’s just who Jack was.

“I-“ you paused, “I think so… I don’t know,” you weren’t normally this unsure of yourself, Jack Abbot’s sidekick (or just sidekick, the nickname you had been graced with since your intern year) wasn’t normally this unsure of herself.

Jack picked up on it immediately.

“I-I lost someone, sh-she was just a kid… an-and y-you weren’t there and- I just… you’re normally there ya know? You were trying to save other people, an-and I couldn’t even save her an-and-“ you just began to ramble spiraling as you went over your night without him.

“Hey-“ he crouched down in front of you, prosthetic be damned, looking you right in your eyes as he grabbed your chin, “You did good work today, you always do a good job. I’m sorry you lost a patient, but look how many people you did help.”

You nodded slowly, allowing his presence to ground you. “Y-You shouldn’t be crouched like that.. s’not good for you.” Your concern came out as more of a whisper than anything else.

“Then get up off the bathroom floor, and come grab a beer with me. We’re headed to the park,” he stood back up and offered you one of his hands.

You pouted, “You know I don’t like beer…”

“You’re such a princess,” he sighed, “then I’ll get you a soda and you can just sit next to me, yeah?”

He pulled you up, taking a good look at you before brushing a few strands of hair out your face. “Heard the Diet Coke got restalked on the second floor,”

You perked up at that before deflating again, “is Mohan going?”

“Why would I know?” He raised an eyebrow at you suspiciously.

“You were with her all night…”

“I don’t keep tabs on all the residents that run around this place, just you.” He slung an arm over your shoulder about to lead you out of the bathroom after god knows how long.

“Hmph…”

“You can pout at you want kid, doesn’t change the fact that I wanted you next to me tonight. Nobody else can be my sidekick.”

And for the first time that night, you smiled.

[sunkissedburns]

jack abbot has the kind of quiet intensity that makes people feel small. he’s all sharp edges and blunt remarks, remains of a life spent on battlefields.

but he is, most of all, a caring man. always has been.

he finds you after a brutal shift, furiously wiping at your eyes. there’s blood on your scrubs and you seem so frazzled he thinks about giving you space for a minute. all of this is thrown out of the window as soon as your gaze catches his.

it takes him three strides to reach you and three more to lead you away from trauma 1, his hand on your shoulder. you don’t need to say anything and neither does he.

he’s softly tilting your chin to look you in the eyes.

“hey, hey what happened out there ?”

you shake your head, squeezing your eyes shut to prevent any more tears from spilling.

“he, i- we, we tried everything jack, everything. fuck, shen had his hands down the guy’s stomach ! there was blood everywhere and he looked so desperate and so scared and now he’s gone and it’s my fault, i should’ve done better, i should’ve saved him !” your voice breaks and so does jack’s heart.

he holds you tight, lets you sob in his arms.

“oh sweetheart. you did everything you could. i know you did.” he whispers sweet words of reassurance in your hair, hands rubbing slow circles on your back.

you pull back after a while, not without feeling the press of jack’s lips on your temple. you smile meekly as his thumbs wipe the remaining tears away.

“c’mon,” his hand finds itself on your shoulder again. “let me get you some coffee.”

[sonicallysos]

Jack was supposed to be alone on the roof. All he wanted was a minute alone with the sunrise and silence before handoff with Robby. But when he climbs the stairs (huffing slightly because his leg’s been digging into his skin for the past 3 hours) and finally gets to the roof, he finds you already there.

In his spot.

And panic shoots through him for a second because no one else ever goes past the railings. Not Robby, not the doordasher, certainly not you.

You don’t move an inch when he closes the door behind him, the lock clicking as he turns it. Robby can eat shit.

“I’ve thought about it too, y’know?”

He can just barely catch your eyes opening, gaze lowering to stare out at the orange-red horizon blooming over the city.

“‘bout what?”

You try to sound calm but there’s a slight unsteadiness to your voice. It’s barely noticeable but Jack catches it.

It’s you, of course he does.

“About what it would be like to let go. To forget about the injuries and the screams and the blood and just take a step or two forward. About how it’d feel to have free air replace the concrete under your feet and have the weight lifted off your chest for just a second. To find a moment of tranquility within the chaos.”

He sees your jaw clench, chest rise and fall as you take in a breath.

“Yeah,” you let out breathlessly and even with your back turned to him, he can picture the tired smile on your face. The one he thinks about a little too much to admit, “Sounds pretty damn nice, doesn’t it?”

He closes the gap between you, white-knuckled hands planted on the railing separating you from him.

His voice is low, quiet and gentle in a way you’ve come to associate with Jack Abbot, “But it won’t last as long as you hope. Never worth the disappointment of reality.”

The silence is thick, heavy. More deafening than the fireworks that make Jack flinch, a rare occurrence that melt his stone-cold facade. The same fireworks that made you cover his hand with yours one new year’s eve on the park bench. The half-drunk beer cans beside you lukewarm and long forgotten. He’s reminded of the way you squeezed his hand lightly and how he’s been chasing the warmth of your skin against his ever since.

A moment passes before you turn your head to face him, eyes finding the unyielding gaze already locked in to you.

“Your therapist teach you that?”

Then he’s back to Dr Abbot again, face flat and voice devoid of emotion.

“No. But yours should.”

Jack can’t tell if the noise you let out is a laugh or a scoff, “I don’t have therapist.”

He makes a similar sound.

“Fuckin’ figures.”

[16ferrari]

I want you to touch me there

jack abbot x fem!reader

Summary: in which you’re very horny for jack.

Warnings: oral (fem! receiving), marking, breast play. Petnames. Maybe some unedited errors.

A/n I’ve looked at this for so long and can’t decide if i hate or love it?

A trail of steam followed you as you opened the shower door. lifting a leg to step over the paddle of water, you grabbed your pink silk robe, hugging it around your body. you blew onto your hand before lifting it to wipe the fog away from the mirror. You looked at yourself in the mirror and saw a desperate and needy face, desperate and needy for jack.

You turned away from the mirror and stepped out the bathroom, Your body grew chills as you stepped into yours and jacks shared bedroom. You wandered over to your dresser and pulled out a matching pair of lingerie along with one of jack’s basic t-shirt.

You hummed a tone as you walked around the room to distract your mind from the previous growing thoughts you were having of jack in the shower. Your feet dancing softly to the tone. You dropped your robe and put on the matching panties and bra, next you walked over to your shelf where you kept your lotions and perfumes, you grabbed your favorites. Filing the palm of your hand with the lotion just enough to rub all over all your body.

Once you were fully lotiond and perfumed up. You threw jacks t-shirt over your head, and pulled the shirt down to were it met your knees. You grabbed the neckline to the shirt and took a deep inhale, it smelt just like jack. You let down your damp hair, fluffing it up, before finally moving your way down the stairs.

The old wood the house was made out of creaked beneath you as you made your way downstairs. You took a peek into the living room and saw that Jack wasn’t in there, you pouted your lips, tilting your head confused as he was usually in there, feet up on the coffee table, a beer in hand while a tv show played on the screen that you knew he wasn’t paying attention to, but he just put on to distract his mind.

You heard a noise from the kitchen followed by a groan. You smiled, feet skipping over to the kitchen. There he stood, taller than the counter making him lean down to finish cutting up the vegetables he was chopping.

“Oh, hey honey” jack smiled softly at the sight of you making your way into the kitchen, hands held behind your back as you inspected what he was doing.

You walked over to him, wrapped your arms behind him and tugged him towards you. You placed kisses to his back, biting gently on the skin hidden behind his white tee. “Hi” you simply said, hands disappearing from around his waist to underneath his shirt, your hands ran all over his hardened abs that he kept a secret and only exposed them to you.

“Huh, What’s this now?” Jack dropped the knife and turned around so he could face you. He place a gentle hand on your face, while the other one held onto your waist thumb drawing invisible circles.

You shrugged, a cheeky smirk gleaming on your face. “Don’t know, just missed you’’ you leaned more into him, hands grabbing the counter behind him. He leaned forward and connected your lips together, it was just meant to be a brush of the lips, so he tried to pull away. But you were fast and grabbed the back of his head pulling him more into the kiss, you craved and wanted something deeper than just that.

And immediately Jack understood that.

You moaned into the kiss feeling his hand glide up your thigh, tugging up your (his) shirt to wrap around your waist. His fingertips danced around the seams of your panties. “Was planning on surprising you with dinner, sweetheart. What’s gotten into you” he placed kisses on your cheek down to your neck, his teeth nipping at the cleaned skin. Your head fell backwards, making him catch it with his hand.

“Was thinking about you in the shower” you admitted boldly, “was thinking about, hmm” his free hand came up to palm your breast through your shirt. “Thinking about your cock and hands” he stopped everything and grabbed onto your chin to make you meet his eyes.

“My hands, huh?, my naughty girl” he lightly tapped your cheek with his thumb, before turning around to push the cutting board and knifes to the side, he then picked you up and laid you down on the hard surface. He said no words, as he opened up your legs and tugged your panties down to the floor. He got on his knees and started licking at your cunt, his tongue leaped at your hole burying himself deeper into your wet cunt.

“Hmm, fuck jack” you grabbed at his gray curly locks, “like that please” your back arched off the counter, making him place his arm around your waist to hold you down. A porngraphic moan like left your lips as he pushed two fingers into your hole while his tongue locked up around your clit, sucking and pulling at the bub.

He stayed like that for a while, dinner long forgotten and instead his mouth was filled with the wetness that your cunt formed and dripped down his beard. “Taste incredible” he muttered, titled his head at a different angle to really soak up your cunt. “Always thinking about me” his fingers made a V as he spread open your pussy lips to push his tongue deeper into your cunt.

your legs shook around his head, stomach tightening up so badly it almost hurt you. “Jack, fuck, I’m close, please” he continued fingering your cunt bringing you closer and closer to the edge.

“Yeah” the vibrations from his voice sent you to the edge, you came hard with a loud moan and an arching back. “That’s ittt, honey” his fingers didn’t leave your cunt, instead he continued fucking you through your orgasm. His free hand came up to lift your shirt up to reveal your black bra which he pushed down to pull your breast free.

Without his fingers leaving the inside of you, his tall frame hovered above you, mouthing at your exposed chest, sucking and biting everything around your breasts, before his teeth finally latched on to the nipple area. He bit and pulled hard at the breast, a hmm sound leaving his lips, enjoying the taste of your vanilla lotion on his tongue.

your hips backed up into him, another orgasm approaching hard and fast. “Jack, am close please” your vision went white as you came again, a silence scream falling from your lips. Jack pulled his fingers from your cunt, licking them up, swallowing the taste of you. ]

“Fuck that’s hot” you muttered under your breath, cunt pulsating at the sight of him doing that.

Jack chuckled, “want me to fulfill more of your little dream you had of me in the shower” he said, in his head he already knew the answer, which is why he waited for no answer and just unzipped his pants, pulling his hardened cock out.

Immediately you opened your legs wider apart and pulled him in closer, his cock laid atop of your cunt hand stroking and rubbing the head against your already wet cunt. “Is that a yes?” He pushed the head of his cock in slowly, in a teasing matter.

Your feet wrapped around his back to pull him forward. “Jack, just fuck me please’’

“Alright, naughty girl”

[abbotmohann]

time lost

pairing: jack abbot x emery walsh

thinking about the way they looked at each other and the implications…a little drabble

it started in the desert as trauma medics - a friendship that quickly heated up into passionate love affair. back stateside jack an amputee and both of them riddled with ptsd it quickly fell apart, they tried maybe not hard enough they both would wonder occasionally. they still cared about each other deeply and made the effort to be civil at work, it took time and therapy before the professional courtesy melted away and a friendship bloomed again but they could never just be friends.

one night after walsh had a few too many drinks at the local bar to drive home, abbot offered her a ride ever the gentleman he walked her up to her door. he lingered and she let him the energy shifting between them when all of sudden they were one each other, neither could tell you who made the first move. it was quick, intense, they didn’t even make it out of the hallway before abbot had stripped walsh and devoured her. their next shift they acted like nothing ever happened ever the professionals.

the next time was pure luck, abbot’s car wasn’t starting so walsh offered him a ride home except there was no reason for walsh to walk him to his door so abbot invented one, offering coffee - they both knew that was never the intention. this time was different, she had seen him without his prosthetic and he was at a point where he didn’t feel shame about it but she knew him intimately before it and that was different. she sensed his hesitation, unsure of what to say or do. “you know it doesn’t change anything for me but if you just want to eat me out and fuck me against the wall again that’s fine with me” he chuckled relaxing into her touch letting her devour him.

it was simply a way to let off steam - that’s what they told themselves, it was only when either of them had a bad day nothing more nothing less. soon enough it was whenever they worked the same shift, sneaking make outs during shifts but it meant nothing they both deluded themselves into thinking. abbot didn’t realise he broke walsh’s heart and walsh didn’t realise how much abbot regretted the way he pushed her out breaking his own heart in the process, feelings buried the pain scarred over neither of them were ready to open the pandora’s box that was their relationship pretending being friends with benefits wasn’t exactly doing that.

[robbysreaders]

pairing: jack abbot x f!reader   word count: 2k and i have so many other ideas, lmk if you want more parts! notes: this one goes out to the nonny in my inbox when i asked for ideas! i kinda blended both your ex!reader and babydaddy!jack ideas! hope you enjoy!

You ended things amicably — as amicably as two people can when love’s still there but the capacity to hold it isn’t. Jack didn’t have space for you, your kid, his job, and his trauma. Something had to give.

But you co-parent well enough. There are bumps, but the rhythm is there.

Usually, handoffs are easy. He comes over, eats dinner with you both like old times, then wrangles Beau back to his place. But today’s different — off-cycle. You’re headed to the airport for a work trip, and Jack’s just wrapping up a shift, so you agree to meet at the hospital.

It feels strange walking in. You haven’t been back since the two of you ended things. There are plenty of familiar faces… and a few new ones.

The second Beau sees Jack, he’s wriggling out of your hand.

“Beau—no running in the ER—” you start, but he’s already barreling toward his dad.

“Oof, kiddo, remember we said soft hugs?” Jack laughs, catching him easily, hoisting him up into his arms.

Dana and Robby round the corner just then.

“Hey, look who it is!” Dana says, but Beau clams up, burying his face in Jack’s neck.

“Sorry, you know kids. He’s shy this early,” you say, brushing a hand down Beau’s back. “Be nice to Dana and Uncle Robby, baby.”

“It’s been so long since we’ve seen either of you around,” Dana says, pulling you into a quick hug. “I only get my Baby Beau fix from Instagram stories now.”

“Oh, I figured Jack would still be throwing his infamous backyard parties,” you say, trying to keep it light.

“Nope, those petered out. What’s it been—three years?” Robby glances at his watch, then at Jack with a pointed look.

It doesn’t take a genius to realize what he’s referencing.

Samira passes by next, lighting up at the sight of Beau. “Hi, Beau! Didn’t know I’d get to see you today!”

“Hi, ‘mira,” Beau murmurs, a soft smile still pressed into his dad’s shoulder.

“Sorry to interrupt, Jack—could I get your opinion on something before you head out?”

Jack looks around. You jump in before he has to juggle.

“I’ve got a few minutes. I can set him up in the lounge?”

Jack nods, grateful. “That would be amazing. It’ll just be a minute.”

As you head down the hallway, you catch a whisper from a pair of interns behind you.

“Damn, didn’t know Abbot married a hottie.”

Dana’s voice cuts in, dry: “Not married. She’s smart enough to not sign a contract with a guy who’s half in love with his job.”

You finish laying out Beau’s coloring book when Jack slips into the lounge, pouring himself a coffee, rubbing at one eye. That tired, end-of-shift look still gets you.

“You know, you could’ve told me you were d-a-t-i-n-g,” you say.

“Huh?” he blinks. “Want a cup?”

“I’m running late,” you wave him off. “And I don’t mind — I just think maybe we should tell each other when new stuff like that comes up. For his sake.”

Jack straightens, confused. “I have no idea what you're talking about. And you didn’t give me a heads up about Carl or Craig or whatever his name was.”

“Chris. And yeah, I should’ve told you. I did tell you, eventually. I’m working on being better about communication, and I’d hope you’d want the same.”

He sighs, then pulls you just outside the lounge, out of earshot.

“Okay, I don’t want to make you even later, but if we’re going to talk, then talk. Don’t allude to stuff — just say it.”

You exhale. “I thought maybe you and Samira were… seeing each other. From the way she spoke to Beau. And the looks from Dana and Robby—”

Jack actually laughs. “She’s 29. I’m her attending. We grab coffee, I mentor her. Sometimes when I have Beau, yeah. If that bothers you, I’ll keep it in mind. But I’m trying to be a good doctor. A good mentor. A good… whatever to you. And it still feels like I’m messing it all up. So just—don’t assume. Talk to me.”

You flush. “You’re right. I’m sorry. I’m just stressed.”

He twists a strand of your hair between his fingers, gently. “Y’know… would take a lot of stress off both of us if you moved back in. We could split the chores. Carpool. Coordinate pickups. Plus, I can think of a few stress relievers we used to be real good at…”

You swat his hand. “Okay, sure. Ha. Ha. I’m going to say bye to Beau. See you Saturday.”

On your way out, you pass Dana outside on her cigarette break.

“You know, a couple doctors I know say those things kill you.”

She exhales a laugh. “Not if this job kills me first. Life’s too short already to deprive yourself of the things — or people — you love.”

“Sure, Dana.”

“Any time, missy. And just so you know… he’s different. He’s been going through it, but he’s doing the work. Seeing that therapist. Doesn’t come in as much on his days off. There’s some… balance there now.”

“Sure, Dana. Bye, Dana.”

But the thought lingers.

Two days into your trip, you’re feeling a bit lonely. It always hits harder when Jack has him. You don’t usually FaceTime when they’re together — boundaries. But this feels like an exception.

you: how’s my boy? jack: i’m doing great. how’s my girl? you: 🙄 you: how’s Beaujack: see, you gotta be more direct. a man could get confused jack: he’s great. hit a double. got a popsicle. we’re watching transformers for the 80th time. classic boys night. you: bad time to try to facetime?

Incoming Call: Jack Abbot (ICE)

You swipe to answer, suddenly aware of the dark circles under your eyes, still in the hotel bed after a full day of networking.

“Mooooommyyyy!” Beau’s voice shrieks through the phone. “I did so good at baseball and then got a treat and Daddy made pasta and we’re gonna watch a movie!”

“That sounds amazing, baby! Are you having a good time?”

“The best! When do you come back?”

“Three sleeps.”

“And then we have Mommy and Daddy time?”

“Of course. You think about what you want to eat, okay? I’ll pick it up on the way.”

“Okay. And then we all sleep here?”

You pause. “No, baby. Remember? I sleep at my house, Daddy sleeps at his. You sleep at either.”

He gets quiet. Your chest aches.

“Alright, time for jammies and teeth. Go get ready, kiddo.” you hear shouted from the other room.

“Okay, bye Mom!” he says, dropping the phone.

Jack’s face replaces the ceiling. “I like hearing your voice in the living room again. Makes the house feel full.”

“Jack. You gotta stop.”

“Just saying. Beau’s not the only one who likes the sound of you here. My offer’s still on the table.”

You roll your eyes. “Sure, Jack. Hey… would it be okay if I called again Friday? I know we don’t usually, but… I miss him.”

“You’re never a bother. I could strap the iPad to my chest, have you join us for the whole day.”

You laugh. “God, Jack. You really know how to make a girl’s night better.”

“Oh baby, don’t I always.”

“Bye, Jack.” you roll your eyes, but you’re still smiling when you hang up.

--

The weather turned halfway through your drive from the airport, and between the stop for food and the hike from the only available parking spot, it feels like you swam the last block.

Jack opens the door barefoot, in joggers and a hoodie, towel slung over his shoulder.

“Hey,” you breathe.

“Hey,” he says, eyes flicking down to your drenched clothes. “Jesus.” He reaches instinctively for your bag, handing you the towel, hand brushing yours. “C’mon. Let’s get you warm.”

You step inside. Beau’s already wrapped around your legs before you can shrug off your coat. Jack disappears into the kitchen, already dishing out dinner.

“You don’t have to—”

“Just eat,” he says, setting a bowl in front of you. “You’re freezing.”

You sit. The food’s still warm, garlicky, comforting. You glance up at him. “You’ve gotten better at this.”

“Ordering takeout?” he teases, leaning against the counter.

You laugh, shaking your head. “No… this.” You wave a hand vaguely at the house — the toys in the living room, the quiet rhythm of it all. “The parenting. The life stuff. You don’t seem rattled anymore.”

He gives a half-shrug. “Had to be better.”

You eat in companionable silence while Beau chatters from his spot at the table, recapping his week in half-sentences and excited tangents.

“Mom, can I watch a show while you finish?”

“Dad’s house, dad’s rules,” you say, looking to Jack.

“Sure thing, kiddo. But grab your gifts for Mom first — then one episode.”

Beau vanishes.

“Gifts?” you ask, raising an eyebrow.

Jack shrugs like it’s nothing. “Just some stuff he made. He’s proud of it.”

The silence that follows stretches, not quite awkward, but thick with something unspoken.

Then Jack says, low and clear, “I miss you.”

You look up, startled. Heart catching in your chest.

“I know I don’t say it often. Or the right way. But I do. I miss you. Not just the idea of you being around — you.” He runs a hand through his hair. “I’ve been thinking about how it felt, before things got hard. And… how lately, it’s been feeling like that again. When you’re here.”

You put your fork down, gently. “Jack…”

“I’m not asking to go back. Or to pretend the last few years didn’t happen. I’m just wondering if maybe we could try something new. Something more intentional.” He gestures faintly in the direction of Beau’s room. “We’ve already rebuilt the foundation, haven’t we?”

You study him. The steadiness in his eyes. The quiet way he’s offering — not demanding.

Finally, you exhale. “I didn’t think I’d get another version of you.”

“I didn’t think I had another version to give,” he says softly.

“So… what are you saying, exactly?”

“I’m saying I want you back,” he murmurs. “In the way that counts. I want to build this life with you — not just pass each other in it.”

You reach up, cup his cheek. “That’s a really nice speech.”

“I practiced,” he grins.

“You’re still kind of an idiot.”

His smile widens. He brushes a damp strand of hair off your forehead. “I said I’ve grown, not become a completely new person.”

You let out a breath you hadn’t realized you’d been holding. “Okay. So how do we do this?”

“What?”

“I’m not just moving back in and jumping into bed with you, Jack. You still have a lot to prove.”

“Of course,” he says, straightening a bit. “I was thinking… maybe a family movie night tomorrow? Something easy.”

“Okay,” you nod. “I like the sound of that.”

“And if that goes well, maybe a grown-up movie night? I’ll wine and dine you. And we can make out in the back row like teenagers.”

You laugh, big and genuine. “I think I like the sound of that too.”

“God, I missed your laugh.”

The silence that settles then feels different. Full, not tense.

Then Jack says, almost too casually, “Oh — I’m switching to days.”

You blink. “Wait, what?”

“Robby and I talked. Figured I’d use this week off to reset my sleep schedule. I start the day shift officially tomorrow.”

Your jaw drops slightly. “Jack…”

“This isn’t about you. Well — a little. But it’s mostly about Beau. Nights just aren’t sustainable anymore, and I want a more stable schedule for him. It’s time.”

You reach up, fingers brushing the side of his hair. “Okay. But only if it’s right for you. I never wanted you to give up what you love.”

“I’m not giving up what I love,” he says, voice quiet but sure. “I did that three years ago. I’m just rearranging things now — so I don’t lose it again.”

You don’t answer with words.

You just kiss him. Soft. Certain.

And when Beau comes racing back in with a construction-paper-wrapped something clutched in his hands, he skids to a stop and grins.

“Are you guys kissing?”

Jack smirks against your forehead. “Yeah, bud. I think we might be.”

[flofaiiry]

how jack abbot shows love

⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ told through the five love languages ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅

warnings: written somewhat informally (some uses of “i think that…” etc), fem!reader, sort of implied but not specified age gap, in the physical touch section there's oral f!receiving & other sort of smutty details also praise (good girl etc) and a hint of oral m!receiving in the words of affirmation i couldn't help myself, everything else is just fluff!!!

wc: 2.2k

note: wanted to write some cute fluff to try and get outta this mini slump bcs i have been hitting a WALL when trying to write smut lately. i'm not sure if this has been done before but i thought it was a cute idea!!! dividers are by @ diviniyae !! also sorry if some of these are shorter than others :(( send me an ask if there's anything u want me to elaborate on & i'll try my best !!!

♡ acts of service

if you work together jack always comes down from the coffee shop in the cafeteria with two cups in hand. he memorized your order after the first time he heard you say it so he likes to make sure you've always got one at the start of the shift.

jack knows how much you love to cook but hate cleaning afterwards, so he'll slip into the kitchen while you're working & wash the dishes you've used. you always say something along the lines of, "it's okay, i can do it after," but he just shakes his head and says it's only fair that if you cook he does the cleaning.

he fixes things around the house, buys more of the moisturizer you use when he notices you're running low, replaces things you've lost etc etc. what's most important to note is that he never draws attention to the fact that he's done these things. he knows you'll notice, and doesn't feel the need to make it about him and make it seem like he wants something in return.

has breakfast started and coffee in the pot before you wake up & sometimes even brings it to you in bed if he's feeling extra fancy. if you're sick you don't even have to say the word, he's taken everything off your plate and will be there for you however you need him.

"i don't think i can go to work today," you say, voice weak and exhausted. jack has to bite back a smile at how extremely congested you sound. he strokes a hand over your hair, "i know baby. i already called your work 'n told them you wouldn't be coming today." you look at him with a little bit of disbelief in your eyes, "i can't believe they were okay with that." he shrugs, "they weren't. not at first. told them it was doctor's orders, just didn't specify the doctor was your boyfriend." you smile and shake your head a little bit, "i can't believe you." he just leans down and presses a kiss to your forehead, "go back to sleep."

he remembers what songs & artists you like and has added them to his playlists so that they come on when he's driving. he loves the look on your face when you recognize the song after a single beat & are amazed at how he knows it's your favourite.

jack has no problem taking on a little extra if he can see that you're worn out or just extra tired lately, if he can take something off your plate & make the day easier for you then he does it, no questions asked- he knows you'd do the same for him if he needed.

♡︎ gift giving

jack is the epitome of a "this reminded me of you so i got it," boyfriend.

out getting groceries and sees a bouquet of flowers that are exactly the same shade as the colour you chose for your nails? they're coming home with him. new local vendor in the lobby at the hospital & they've got all kinds of trinkets he knows you'd love? he's taking out his wallet.

he sees you scrolling on pinterest or tiktok before bed, he notices the videos and images you linger a little longer on & save for later. if there's something you've been eyeing but hesitating on buying- a box shaped suspiciously like that item appears on the kitchen table a few days later.

you make a joke once and call him your sugar daddy or something, he just shrugs and tells you if it makes you happy then he wants you to have it. he doesn't necessarily buy you things to "spoil you," you can afford to buy the things he gets you for yourself, but you often hesitate to spend money on yourself. jack notices, and he hates that you think you aren't deserving of that sort of thing so he takes it upon himself to show you that you are.

and circling back to the bouquet thing- he 100% makes sure you have fresh flowers on the table all the time. it doesn't matter if you've been together for 3 weeks or 3 years, this man will bring you flowers before a date.

if there's something you collect, whatever it may be - cds, vinyls, charms - literally anything, if he's out somewhere and sees them or a specific one you've been looking for he gets it.

"didn't take you as a charm bracelet kinda guy," robby teases coming up beside jack and looking over his shoulder. jack just shakes his head, eyes scanning through the vendor's display, "it's not for me." robby smiles, "ah," he mouths, "for the lady?" jack nods, "she's got a whole box full 'a these things, but somehow no butterflies," his eyes stop on one charm, he picks it up slowly, before showing it to robby, "so i'm getting her the butterfly."

jack never forgets things like your birthday or anniversary. he doesn't need to have them marked down on a calendar or in his phone, he just remembers. for these bigger moments, the gift he gets you is obviously more significant. not to be cliche, but one of his favourite gifts to give you for the occasion is jewelry. probably half of your collection is stuff he's gifted you over the course of your relationship.

he remembers if you're a silver or gold girlie, if you've mentioned liking studs or dangly earrings more, if you like dainty chains on necklaces or more chunky ones. he remembers all of it. so when he goes to the store he tells the associate all this, who then brings out a few pieces they think emulate that the best. he loves the idea of you thinking about him whenever you decide what to put on in the morning, or that when people ask where something's from you'll say, "my boyfriend got it for me."

♡ physical touch

jack loves! to! be! touching! you!!!!! he's constantly got his fingers laced through yours when you're walking together or just near each other. when he's driving, he's got a hand on your thigh. he definitely does the hand on the lower back thing whenever he's guiding you somewhere or you're in a crowded place. he just always wants you to know he's there.

he can tell when you've had a long day at work & will wordlessly come over to you and just let you bury your head in his chest, running his hands up and down your back soothingly and kissing the top of your head. he lets you cry if you need to cry, not saying anything until you're ready & just holding you in the meantime.

he loves loves LOVES when you lie down on the couch with your head in his lap so he can run his fingers through your hair. he finds it so calming & grounding & cute that you fall asleep almost every time he does it.

jack kisses you like the answers to all the worlds problems can be found on your lips. he's more than happy to kiss you all night long and never escalate it into anything more. it's not uncommon for you to just lie side by side in bed, lips moving in perfect tandem, legs all tangled up and hands all over each other.

in bed, jack is a very giving lover. sure, he likes sex, who doesn't, but nothing gets him off more than seeing you feel good and knowing he's the one making you feel that way. his favourite place to be is with his head buried between your legs, fingers working you through your nth orgasm of the night with your hands tugging at his hair because it just feels too good.

all you can see is jack's salt and pepper curls peeking out from between your thighs. he’s already make you cum once but that’s not enough for him. his tongue’s licking diligent strokes up your slit, two fingers curling inside you to hit just the right spot that makes your hips buck into his mouth and your back arch off of the bed. he brings his free hand to your hip, keeping you from squirming too much as he sucks at your clit. the noises you make only encourage him, and you swear every time you moan his name you feel him smile against your cunt.

♡ words of affirmation

phrases along the lines of: "good job" & "i'm proud of you" & "i love you" & "you're so beautiful," fall from jack's lips like they're the easiest things in the world to say. he obviously truly means them but he takes extra care to vocalize it to you because he sees the way you light up when he does.

he’s a big texter for sure, since a lot of the time when he’s at work he doesn’t have time for anything more than a quick check on his phone. before you move in together he texts you good morning & good night every day & asks you if you got home safe. messages you throughout the day if he's not with you to ask how you're doing or ask you if you’ve eaten anything or even just to tell you that he’s thinking about you.

to get a teeny bit nsfw, jack definitely has a huge thing for praise. loooves to call you a good girl, tell you how pretty you are, how good you taste, how well you take everything he gives you etc. he’s very vocal esp when you’re giving him head, telling you how good you feel and how you’re doing such a good job.

if he’s in a store & they’ve got a pretty card he thinks you’ll like, he’ll buy it for you just to write a little love letter in it or something.

jack walks in through the door with a few bags of groceries in one hand and a little pink envelope in the other. he sets down the bags in the kitchen before going over to you to hand you the letter. you take it, a little confused, you genuinely wonder if you’ve forgotten about your birthday. when you open it, it’s a beautiful, fancy hallmark card. inside, a few paragraphs written with whatever pen he found lying around in the car. he watches you read it with a little smile on his face, seeing how it almost brings a tear to your eye when you read it- just sentence after sentence about how much he loves you and how you make every day better by just being in his life and how lucky he feels to have found you.

i’m not sure if this falls under words of affirmation but he definitely loves pet names & nicknames and stuff like that. terms like baby, sweetheart, baby, honey, my love, all of it. even if it’s just a nickname for your first name, he likes to have that sort of special connection with you.

♡ quality time

if he’s not at work or sleeping off a night shift jack is with you.

he loves to take you on dates, whether they’re just simple dinner and a movie’s or more elaborate day trips somewhere or walking around downtown all day. his favourite kinds of dates are the ones where you get to talk- so admittedly movies aren’t his preference. he loooves talking to you, hearing what you have to say, bantering back and forth on a hot topic, and just the sound of your voice in general.

but you’re both busy people, and often don’t have the time or energy to be going out all the time, which is fine because jack is more than happy to just spend a lazy night in with you. maybe you order takeout or maybe you cook something together, as long as he’s with you he doesn’t care.

sometimes though when one or both of you are just absolutely drained, he likes to just do nothing with you. scrolling on your phones with your feet in his lap, wordlessly watching the news side by side. when words are too much effort, he’s more than happy to just be next to you.

jack gives me big reader vibes. one day he takes you to a cute little indie bookstore where you each pick out a book to spend the rest of the day curled up in bed together reading.

he also loves to travel, so you two definitely go on trips whenever your schedules line up. he loves planning itineraries but always works in days for you to just lounge around the hotel or by the pool.

“what’s this?” you ask, nodding at the plane tickets stuck on the fridge. jack looks over at you, “i noticed that we have a week off at the same time next month so i thought we’d go somewhere.” you take the tickets from under the magnet, reading them over. “bahamas!?” you say excitedly once you spot the destination. he nods walking over to you, “needa get out of this depressing pittsburgh winter. spend some time by the beach, drink in hand, getting tanned and attacked by seagulls.” you laugh, and pull him into a hug, “thank you baby,” he smiles into your shoulder, “of course, we need this. been workin’ our asses off lately,” he pulls away to press a kiss to your cheek, the leans in right next to your ear, “plus i really like the way you look in a bikini, so that’s a bonus.”

send an ask if you want me to write one of these for any other characters!!! (robby, pope, etc!!!) or if u want me to elaborate on any points :P

[abbotsanatomy]

Can I request a Jack x reader where reader gets hurt while working and Abbot goes insane trying to make sure she’s okay 🤭

⨳ HEART IN YOUR THROAT

pairing: jack abbot x wife!doc!reader warnings: workplace romance, descriptions of injury, depiction of an erratic patient, assault of a healthcare provider. author's note: y'all i wrote this man stressed! (reasonably) he CANNOT lose another wife...

There's a tune stuck in your head, from the drive to work. You're humming it as you look over your most recent patient's labs. But you can't hear yourself anymore when someone yells from somewhere near the ER's ambulance entrance.

'Yell' isn't really the right word, it's more of a shrill screaming that chills you to the core. You're still leaning on the station counter, when you spot Jack running towards the screaming, followed by Ellis.

The computer's immediately abandoned, as you make your way through the ER in a sprint. You pick up a paper gown on the way out, and pull it on, tying it in the back. The emergency entrance's glass doors open automatically, as you make your way through them and onto the road.

It's chilly outside, as can be expected on a winter night in Pittsburgh. You can feel cold air making its way deep into your bones, but you know you have to move quick when you see the patient thrashing violently on a hospital gurney. You can tell Ellis and Jack have already gotten a few kicks to the face, trying to steady the patient's legs, where the blood is making it difficult to asses his injury.

You make for his arms, which are free and way too close to grasping Ellis by the hair. You're pulling him back onto the gurney as gently as possible, pulling both of his arms into yours. There's no way to be reassuring in this kind of situation, but you try anyway. He isn't taking any of it, though. His screaming directly at your face makes you flinch a few times. His wife shouting in the background isn't so comforting either.

Somewhere throughout the struggle, the patient gains on you. You can slowly feel your grip over him slip. With a rough shove from him, you're down on the floor, face planted directly onto the pavement. You can hear a sickening crack when you try to move your face across the concrete. An intense pain shoots up from your nose, and you swear you can feel it in your brain.

"Fuck!" you shout into the ground, and even that hurts.

You can hear John make his way out of the emergency entrance, he almost leans down to check on you, but you give him a thumbs up. You just want this idiot on the gurney out of your sight, then you might get up. He makes his way to help restrain the patient.

Jack's voice is distantly shouting a question at Shen that you can't quite make out. Then, he's right in front of you, pulling you up by your arms before you can protest. There's an almost alarming amount of blood on the pavement where your face was. When he pulls your face up to get a good look, you can taste your own blood making its way down your throat.

You wipe away the blood from your top lip. Any expression you make is so painful you regret ever even having a face. Jack's eyes are going back and forth, analyzing every part of you to make sure there's nothing else besides the glaringly obvious broken nose.

"I think it's..." you take a deep breath in through your mouth, "broken."

The gurney passes you two, crouched on the side of the road. Jack shoots the patient the nastiest glare you've ever seen. He looks ready to kill the man. You're pretty sure he would've at least put him in the hospital if he wasn't already here.

The moment he looks back into your eyes, his face twists into a more comforting expression.

"Yeah?" he smiles, but it barely reaches his eyes, "I think so too, honey. Let's get you up. I'll take care of it."

You let him pull you up to stand. He's still observing you for any signs there might be something else wrong.

"You hurt anywhere else?" he asks, his tone soft.

You shake your head.

Even if you were, you're pretty sure the burning sensation in your face is clouding your judgement. "Nope. Legs just a lil' sore."

"Alright. We'll get 'em looked at."

By that, he means he's going to move you into the ER and damn-near yell at anyone who even suggests he go assist with the patient and let someone else take care of you. You always knew Jack had a protective streak, but seeing it in action is entirely different. You're sure you'd be laughing and making fun of him for it, if speaking and smiling and breathing didn't hurt so bad.

He guides you to one of the ER chairs, and pulls the cubicle curtain closed. The first victim of his very thorough physical examination is your nose, which he packs to stop the bleeding and then gives you a local anesthetic injection in. It dulls the pain and makes the manual realignment feel like barely a gentle pull.

When he's done, he checks you everywhere else. He does a million tests you both know are incredibly excessive. You let him turn your limbs every which way, check your breathing a hundred times, and perform a neuro exam more than ten times, probably.

"I'm fine, Jack," you kindly inform him, for the fifth time since you've sat down, as he flashes a light into your eyes.

He puts the flashlight away and nods, finally acknowledging you. His arms come to rest on your shoulders, his thumbs stroking the skin there. Your eyes meet. When you smile at him, he grimaces.

"Oh my god. Am I really that deformed?" you joke.

He shakes his head slowly, "You could never be anything short of gorgeous in my eyes."

You're about to make another joke, when you realize his eyes hold an intensity in them that's usually reserved for those terribly intimate moments you share, almost exclusively, at your apartment. He looks really fucking scared, too. It’s a proper notch down from how afraid he looked outside, so you’ll take it.

"Where doesn't hurt?" he asks.

You point to your cheek. It isn’t completely pain-free, but it's the only place you can tolerate any kind of pressure and actually feel it. He leans down and presses his lips gently there. It makes your eyes flutter shut instantly. Your hand comes to rest on the back of his neck, keeping him there.

"I think you'll need to perform an even more thorough examination. At home. In bed," you whisper into his ear.

When he laughs against your skin, you turn your face to the side, so you can press your mouth to the side of his jaw. You instantly regret it, though, because your freshly split lip burns.

"Ouch," you complain.

Jack presses one last kiss to your temple, before he pulls away. He grabs his phone out of his front pocket.

"We leave in an hour," he confirms.

"You can nap here. I'll make sure no one wakes you up until it's time to go," his voice is soothing, but you know he's not really asking.

Luckily, you can already feel your eyes droop, so you’re barely arguing anyway. Jack's footsteps are heavy, and when he pulls the curtain open you can tell he hesitates for a moment.

It sounds like he has a smug grin on his face, "And, uh, you're only slightly deformed."

Your eyes shoot open, but before you can grab something to throw at him he's already out of eyeshot.

"You can't say that to your patients, Doctor Abbot!" you yell after him.

The last thing you hear before passing out is his distant laugh.

[criminalamnesia]

Hey man, idk if your goal was to make people cry with that Jack Abbot fic but if it was mission accomplished! *finger guns out of the room while sobbing*

10/10 fic would definitely recommend to anyone needing a satisfying story that ends with you crying

I honestly didn’t expect it to get so much love!!! im just obsessed with the Pitt rn and god that man… I need him….

anyways here’s part 2 to this!!

part 3 here!

jack doesn’t know what’s going on.

ellis came into the er with a gurney, screaming for robby, and then (if even possible) things in the ED got worse.

people scrambling, muffled sobs from nurses and doctors alike as they pass by whoever robby is currently working on. jack’s brows are furrowed, his eyes squinting to try and get a look across the room, but no dice. he starts to think maybe it’s jake— and fuck if it is.

“dr. abbot,” samira breathes beside him from where she’s hunched over their patient. another red, blood covering their torso— a gunshot wound through the upper chest. collapsed lung, struggling to breathe, struggling to live.

(like someone else across the room. but he doesn’t know that.)

“you’re good, mohan. keep going,” he says, voice even as he glances down at the resident’s work. she doesn’t need him here, really. she was one of the best residents on the floor— next to you, of course.

speaking of you— where were you? even if you’d been sleeping during dana’s slew of calls, he’d figure you’d have cracked an eye open by now. you always complained you tossed and turned at night (he had offered to remedy that in various ways.)

“done,” mohan exhales with a grin as jack’s fingers find the patients carotid, pressing for a pulse. it’s stronger than it was before mohan went to work.

“sound work,” he says, nodding down at her. her grin widens as she straightens up.

“great teacher.”

jack chuckles as he waves dr. walsh over. samira starts to walk away, but before he can even register what he’s doing, he’s got a light grip on her forearm. she glances over at him, obviously confused, head cocked to the side as chaos continues around them.

“check on robby, yeah? make sure that’s not jake he’s got.”

samira nods and leaves his grasp, weaving through gurneys and wheelchairs to reach the other attending.

“got one for me?” walsh has finally made her way over, her eyes assessing the stabilizing patient before her.

“yeah, this one’s good for upstairs,” he responds, eyes glancing once again to robby before santos starts yelling for an attending.

“better go see what she wants before she kills someone,” walsh says, smug grin adorning her lips as she grabs the gurney’s handles. “garcia says that one’s trouble.”

“yeah, yeah. don’t you have someone to cut into?”

“oh my god!”

even with all the clamor in the room, samira’s gasp cuts over the noise loud and clear. abbot’s head shoots up, watching as the resident’s hands fly over her mouth. dana hurries over, a hand landing on the young woman’s shoulder as she pulls her to the side.

“dr. abbot, we need you over at the yellows—” santos is saying as she catches her breath in front of him, her eyes flitting from the scene across the room and back to the attending beside her.

“abbot!” shen calls as he pushes a gurney through the bay doors “got another red!”

“are they dying, santos?” he asks, already starting towards shen.

“well, not actively—”

“get someone else.”

he hears her faint huff behind him, but it’s forgotten as soon as he gets his eyes on his next patient.

across the room, robby is sweating.

it’s awful, profuse, and he feels like he can’t catch his breath. there’s a ringing in his ears.

he’s never experienced drowning, but he imagines it feels a lot like this.

“c’mon,” he mutters, his eyes watching your face, searching for a sign that you were coming back.

your eyes were closed. your skin was pale from blood loss.

your heart had stopped beating.

“robby,” dana says, her voice as soft as it can be as she rests a hand on his shoulder.

“no,” he says, and he doesn’t need to say anything else. he’s tired. his body aches from the past twelve hours, but he can’t stop. this is you. he cannot stop.

somewhere in his brain, he realizes that this is not working. he’s been doing cpr since he lost your pulse, and it is not working. the tube shoved down your throat is helping you breathe. blood is still trickling from your gunshot wound.

your heart is still not beating.

this is not working.

samira is crying quietly behind him. princess has tears on her cheeks from where she stands beside your head, squeezing the bag attached to your intubation tube.

he can’t stop. one, two, three, four. one, two, three, four. up, down. up, down.

he presses down so hard he cracks your ribs. he cannot breathe. he can’t think. he can’t, he can’t—

“way past trauma protocol over there, brother.”

everything comes crashing down around him at the sound of jack’s voice carrying across the room.

he wants to laugh, because doesn’t jack know who he’s working on?

would he still be saying that if he was looking down at your pale face, your bloodstained skin?

robby ignores him. shakes his head as if shaking off the words. he can’t be done with this, he can’t give up on you. he can’t, he can’t, he can’t.

“we use blood on the ones that are gonna make it.”

jack again. robby wants to scream and laugh and cry. he’s turning hysterical, he knows it. this fucking day.

adamson. jake. abbot. you.

he can’t catch a goddamn break and it’s all weighing on him, and he’s about to lose his best friend and his best student and—

a hand on his shoulder. a firm hold, squeezing his skin so hard it almost hurts.

“robby,” it’s dana again. “you gotta let her go.”

he can hear the crack in the steely charge nurse’s tone, and that’s what really breaks him.

“fuck,” he breathes, and tears are clouding his vision. “fuck.”

dana’s hands land on top of his still moving ones. the ones that are physically beating the heart that lies dormant in your chest. she digs her nails into his skin, and that breaks him from his trance, and he finally stops.

someone sobs nearby. he doesn’t look up to see who.

he announces time of death. marks it on the card tied to your wrist.

princess removes the bag from your tube. dana pulls a blanket over your body, tucking it over your head as carefully as she can.

without a word, she and robby wheel you toward the makeshift morgue. you do not deserve to join the other bodies in there. you do not deserve to die.

dana leaves the room before him, and as soon as the door shuts behind her, he sinks to the ground.

“shit,” he cries, shaking hands reaching up to cover his eyes before scrubbing over his face. his trauma gown is covered in blood— some of it yours— and he tears at the thing as he sobs.

“fuck, fuck,” he can’t breathe. adamson, you. langdon and his drugs. jack and his trust. everything, all of it, is overwhelming. a wave too big to jump over or swim under. a current so strong it’s pulling him out to sea before he even knows he’s in the water.

“dr. robby?”

he can’t. his eyes are clenched shut, his hands grasping the chain around his neck. he mutters a prayer his grandmother taught him when he was a kid.

“dr. robby,” the voice calls again, and robby recoils as a hand grazes his shoulder, his eyes shooting open as he pushes the offender away.

whitaker looks distraught, a frown forming on his lips as he stands over the older man.

“we need you out there,” the intern says, his words firm. “you gotta get up.”

and robby wants to smack the kid, but as he finally starts to take deep breaths again. whitaker holds out a hand. robby (after a moment of contemplation) takes it.

and then he promptly shoves whitaker away as soon as he’s on his feet.

the intern nods, and without another word, leaves the room.

robby takes a breath, then another. he reaches for the door handle, but stops just short of turning it. he turns, his eyes landing on your gurney and the sheet hiding your body.

“im sorry,” he says. it is such a guttural and profound feeling, this sadness that overtakes him as he says those words.

but the ED needs him.

so he steps back into the chaos.

[allllium]

another poll bc I can't decide anything for myself 😭 I'm currently working on two Jason requests but afterwards I have a WIP that's currently being written from Jack Abbot's pov, since I haven't seen a lot of that, would anyone read that or would I be better off writing it from readers pov (bc of the pov it would be a female reader but that can be changed)

- if you'd like different pronouns for reader lmk!

[mercvry-glow]

"Bring lunch to my husband and his coworkers with me because he went in on his day off"

You are making sandwiches and snacks and stuff for the er and having the most aesthetic (i can't spell) videos

Love influencer wife 😭

She’s literally just a girl guys 😭🥹

You’re just so sweet and thoughtful, that it honestly melts Jacks heart! You think of him and whatever crew he’s on that day constantly sending sweet messages.

Countless brands have partnered with you, not only because of how genuine you are but because of the work your husband does as well. So while you may not show him for his own sake, you preach Jacks message of taking care of Healthcare workers any time you can.

That’s why when a local chain restaurant reached out wanting to cater a meal, you jumped at the chance to feed everyone in the Pitt!

You get a video out of it, get to help a local business, and get to take care of the Jack and the Pitt crew in turn!

You film what’s appropriate—moments in your car talking about the days tasks, talking with the owners of the restaurant, a few fan interactions, all the stuff that makes for good short form content.

No camera goes into the ER, only you and boxes upon boxes of food and drinks you brought. Not to mention a few of Jacks favorite deserts, but those were from you! Packaged all in matching Tupperware from your own home kitchen.

You know people think your career is silly sometimes, but when you get to see your husband and his coworkers light up at the sight of the treats you brought them….

It makes it all worth it.

🥹🥰☺️

[stellamarielu]

did anyone order jack abbot eating it from behind??

jack is typically a soft lover— dominant yet careful. even when he’s rough, there’s still an ounce of gentle deliberation in his actions. but sometimes he’s all pent up from a long week at work, and he gets all needy and impatient.

after days of barely seeing you— his shifts running late, and you having a lot on your plate— he finally has you all to himself. you’re cooking dinner together in his kitchen on your shared day off, and he can barely keep his hands to himself.

he tried his best not to pounce on you the minute you walked into his house, giving you nearly an hour of innocent conversation and sarcastic remarks, only paying a few playful smacks to your ass as you worked together to prep the meal. but as soon as you were leaning over the countertop, attention on the cutting board beneath your fingertips, he wasted no time pulling your body flush against his, his very obvious erection pressing against the flesh of your backside.

he leans in— not even bothering to whisper as he confesses how badly he wants you in the wide open space of his kitchen.

“wanna fuck you right here.” his voice is low and rough as his hands grab harder at your waist.

“could just bend you over the counter while you keep cooking,” you’re trying to focus on the task at hand, but jack’s presence behind you is becoming increasingly harder to ignore.

“see how long you can keep your composure until you have to stop because you can’t fucking see straight.” his words have an edge to them— almost threatening.

you weakly try to pry his hands off your hips, but instead your weight melts back into him, the affect of his words making your body betray your mind.

you need to finish cooking; there’s food on the stove, ready to burn if you get too distracted.

“jack…” his name leaves your lips in a quiet warning, meanwhile you’re leaning further into his touch, your body giving into his words of desire.

“we should eat first.” your eyes flutter shut as his hands run up and down your sides. the final attempt to ward off his advances leaves your lips to no avail.

“you’re right.”

he drops to his knees like a dog following a command. pushing up the little sundress you wore just for him, and yanking your panties down. it almost startles you how impulsively he pushes his face into you, his tongue instantly sliding between your folds.

you instinctively raise up on your toes, leaning forward against the counter, and throwing all previous apprehension to the back of your mind as soon as you feel his mouth on your cunt.

his hands grab at your ass, kneading it in his palms and spreading you open, giving him more access to eat.

and eat he does; licking, and sucking, and fucking you with his tongue like he’s desperate for your release. groaning into you when he hears your breathless pants and whines from above.

oh he’ll eat first alright, and this is only the first course.