I’m Listening To This On Repeat Forever

PEDRO PASCAL as GENERAL ACACIUS Gladiator II (2024) | dir. Ridley Scott

shoutout to fat girls ur really pretty and i hope u have a nice day

stay

jack abbot x female reader

summary: jack comes home from a long shift to find you fast asleep in his bed

content: fluff!!!, established relationship, reader and jack are learning how to align their differing schedules, jack cooking dinner and being a domestic little boyfriend, mentions of the trauma he experiences at work, alludes to sex but nothing explicit, basically just the reader being jack’s safe space, cute n cozy!

word count: 2k

author’s note: oh look it’s stella the oneshot wonder coming through with another jack abbot oneshot and refusing to challenge herself by writing a complex multi part fic like she said she was gonna do. whatever just let me domesticate that man in peace…

Exhausted and drained of every ounce of his energy, Jack had just finished what felt like the longest shift of his career. Twelve hours of chaos that had him longing for the silence of his home and a long stretch of sleep to clear the casual scream of trauma that lingered in his mind.

While he usually offered every little corner of himself to his job, letting it consume his life in ways most people didn’t, today tested him.

It didn’t help that he held himself together for the sake of everyone around him. In true attending physician fashion, he pushed through each intervention with tactful hands and confident energy. His collected demeanor cracked with each combative family member and patient that slipped away underneath his hands, but he never let it show. Instead, he lead every room with calm assurance and a steadfast plan. And when all was said and done, when he was finally free from the confining walls of the Emergency Department, he just wanted to go home— to let go.

Functioning on muscle memory, his feet carried him to his front door, key coming into contact with the lock and stepping out of his shoes in the entryway. He walked past the living room, following his morning routine of getting ready for bed, and tossing his backpack on the barstool at the kitchen island.

Passing through his quiet kitchen, he noticed the dishes set out on the drying rack, all clean and waiting to be put away, remnants of the night before that reminded him you were there. The cluttered mess of his day almost causing him to forget the night before. 

You came over to his place after work last night.

The narrow alignment of your weekday schedules always found you in the in-between moments. With Jack working night shifts and you having a typical nine to five schedule, the fleeting evening hours were now yours to share. Dinner in Jack's kitchen quickly became a routine delicacy in your calendars. Scraping together what little time you had, and sharing a meal before your days set sail on two opposite courses. 

You were still in the early months of your relationship, hungry to spend every waking minute together.

You’d both forgotten what it felt like to be contingent on another person’s presence. The fullness of companionship. Small smiles at learning something new about the other, and the constant urge to take mental notes of every word leaving their lips, but not letting yourself veer from their train of thought for too long in fear that you might miss something. Everything felt vibrant and exciting. Your connection blooming in the gold hues of evening sun, and tender conversation at his dinner table.

A memory of your conversation from last night played in his mind; you reaching past him to grab a cutting board standing at the kitchen counter and helping with the meal's final touches. Busy stirring something on the stovetop with a dish towel resting over his shoulder, Jack listened as you told him about your day.

Continuing to monitor the pots and pans in front of him, he asked about your plans for the evening, curious to know how your day would end as his began. You worked to chop a handful of vegetables while telling him what was on your itinerary for the night: going home to finish laundry and turning in early. 

His response to your lackluster agenda was immediate, soft and genuine as it left his lips without permission.

“You could just stay here.” 

You’d stayed over at his place before. Multiple times. Always on the weekend when neither of you had work.

It gave you the opportunity to spend unrestricted time together without a single worry of differing schedules. Each time you’d stay up as late as your body would let you, not quite used to Jack’s nocturnal way of life. Your voice would dissipate into quiet hums as your eyelids grew heavy, until you eventually fell asleep with your body pressed against his. The dim lamp on his bedside table would stay on a little while longer as he read, his back resting against the headboard, but his body would sink deep into the comforter, his mind losing focus at the feeling of you alongside him. He'd let himself peer down at your sleeping figure, facial features relaxed and soft in the faint light of his bedroom. A true depiction of the endless beauty found in stillness. Finding solace in the comfort of your skin, warm and real and touching his, he would always fall asleep much faster than usual. 

Given the ease of your previous sleepovers, it wasn’t odd for him to mention you staying over at his place, but it felt different this time.

The intention was distinctive— a deepening of dependence. It wouldn’t be the normal arrangement of talking, and laughing, and fucking well into the early morning hours until you fell asleep in his arms. This time you would be there, alone, in his space. It felt like an extension of trust. An extension of newfound domesticity in your relationship. A taste of reliance.

“Like just stay here while you’re at work?” A hint of a smile danced on your lips as your words came out in wishful anticipation.

He caught it. The excitement in your voice, and the careful raise of your eyebrows as you kept your grin from stretching across your face.

“If you want to.” Setting down the sauce-stained utensil in his hand, he took a single step toward you, body angled slightly behind yours as his arms wrapped instinctively around your waist, his chin coming down to rest on your shoulder.

“I wouldn’t mind coming home to you in the morning.” His words sunk into the crook of your neck before his lips found your jaw in a careful kiss.  

Under the spell of his touch you agreed to his invitation, finishing dinner, and receiving an all too-natural kiss goodbye from Jack before he lingered at the front door on his way out. 

After an evening spent in his home, you fell asleep in his room, on his bed. And that's where you remained, still dreaming under the gentle weight of his comforter when he got home from work. 

Careful not to wake you, his steps softened as he came to the doorway of his bedroom, leaning against the frame to find your body snuggled in his sheets.

You were sprawled out on your belly with one leg bent and your hands underneath the pillow. His pillow. You must’ve ventured over to his side of the bed in your sleep, your back rising and falling with gentle breaths as your face smushed further into the cotton pillowcase. 

Fragments of your body peeked out from underneath his bedspread, the heather grey t-shirt on your back immediately catching his eye. Only a sliver of the ambiguous material was visible on your shoulders, but Jack new the shirt adorning your sleeping figure belonged to him. The sight of you wearing his clothes, nestled deep in his sheets, made the rhythmic beating in his chest stutter.

He let himself watch for a minute, standing in silence with a subtle grin on his lips.

The trials of his day dispersed right there in the threshold of his bedroom. Every high stress situation and crucial decision fading in the background as you laid on his bed, captivated by a peaceful slumber.

He knew it wouldn’t last long, knew your schedule like the back of his hand, and it was only a matter of time before you would be waking up to start your day. Half an hour maybe. 

His time with you, snuggled and serene in his bed, was limited. All he wanted to do was join you. To give himself over to the soothing consolation of your figure weighed down into his, and drown in the comfort of your soft breath. 

He had to force his way to the bathroom. Stripping himself of the clothes littered with the impurities of his job. Turning the shower faucet, and fighting his desire to lay next to you with his clothes still stained from work.

He couldn’t do that, wouldn’t do it.

There was nothing worth bringing you into his world. The grime of trauma and death had no place next to you. You were separate from all of that. Pure from the suffering he had to witness on a daily basis. Any anguish abiding in his thoughts, on his clothes, rooted in the ache of his body, all of it vanished the second he saw the soft curve of your lips after a long day.

Less than three minutes of scrubbing and rinsing his body under the shower head and he was out, working himself into a pair of shorts before silently stepping back into his bedroom. Relief flooding through his body at finding you still fast asleep on his side of the bed.

He almost doesn’t want to join you, to ruin the perfect scene set in front of him; your sleeping figure draped over his sheets, but then you stir. Your legs move slightly, and your head buries deeper into his pillow and he’s crawling onto the mattress in seconds. It dips under his weight, and one of your eyes squints open at the interruption. A sleepy smile melting onto your expression as contentment engulfs you both. He squishes next to you, eliciting a gentle hum from your chest as his body comes into contact with yours.

“Hi.” Your voice is sleepy- barely audible. Music to his ears.

“Hi.” Far less drowsy but still holding a tired rasp, his greeting fills the thin space between you, both heads sharing a pillow as your bodies face one another. 

“You’re in my spot.” His whisper hides in a smile as his hand finds the curve of your waist underneath his t-shirt.

You try to mumble out an apology, shifting your body back to the other side of the bed, but his arm wraps around your lower back, pulling you flush against his bare chest. The muscles in his body constricting as he hugs you tight against him.

“Where do you think you’re going?” The familiar teasing of his voice sends a wave of comfort rippling through your body. You let his arms envelop you. Melting into his touch, surrounded and satisfied by his company.

“Want you right here.” His words are muffled in your hair as he places a kiss to the top of your head. 

You don’t fall back asleep, but Jack does. His eyes closing and breath evening the second he has you in his arms. The rigid facade he holds in place vanishing under a soft veil of sleep.

You lay with him for a few more minutes, drenched in his affection, until you're practically prying his hands from your waist and rolling out of his bed. You’re hesitant to leave, your body trying to lull you back into his sheets, the calm of his embrace calling to you as you slip quietly from his bedroom.

Already counting down the minutes until you’re back at his place for dinner, you pad into the kitchen, carefully putting away the dishes laying out on the drying rack before gathering your belongings and starting your day. 

PEDRO PASCAL Materialists | 2025

On my period right now and SUFFERING 😭😭😭 can’t stop thinking about carmy taking care of you on your first day and making you a steak for dinner 😭😭 and just keeping you warm ugh

No because Carmy will take care of you when you’re on your period; it’s canon idc. He’s the best caregiver ever.

He runs to the store after his shift at the restaurant and picks up anything you need, pads, tampons, ibuprofen, literally whatever you ask. He is not one of those guys that gets freaked out about buying period products—thank you Sugar for desensitizing him.

Carmy brings home a whole cut of steak in a little to go box to cook for you at the apartment. He does not like cooking after a long day a work, but for you? Oh, he will cook a whole five course meal if you asked.

Anyways, he finishes up the steak and brings it to the bedroom, along with one of those bed trays to sit it on. He also has a glass of water and two ibuprofen in hand for you.

If you want cuddles? He will give you all the cuddles in the world. If you want a tummy massage to help with the cramps? He’s ON it.

Oh, and also he 100% buys you a brown bear warmie that heats up in the microwave for your tummy. That way it’s like he’s always with you giving you a warm cuddle, even when he can’t be there.

Four of my FICS on ao3 were scraped by nyuuzyou. Lmao fuck you for using using AI to do dumb shit like this go fuck yourself

Update: deleted all my shit bc you’re not gonna get to read shit now you dumb bag of bricks.

Indya

"I'll have her home by 7, Sir." -> "She calls me Daddy too."

Happy black history month and fuck trump