Death And The Lady: Chapter Seven: Chibs Telford X Reader
Death and the Lady: Chapter Seven: Chibs Telford x Reader
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Chapter Seven: Unconventional
Y/N was thankful that Skeeter had been willing to allow her to borrow his Toyota pick up truck as she was quite sure the old hearse would not even manage to make the short thirty mile drive from Charming to Lodi.
Although it should reasonably only take her a couple of hours to travel from the funeral home in Charming to Saint Elizabeth’s Institute in Lodi, Y/N was not willing to take the risk of anything happening to the old hearse.
Given that her Acura was still in the care of TM Auto, and would be for a while at least according to Chibs, she was not looking to add another broken down vehicle to her problems.
Skeeter had not seemed to mind her borrowing his truck for a few hours at the very least. He knew she’d been putting this off for far too long now.
Y/N would be lying if she tried to claim she had not been tempted to use her lack of reliable transportation as a reason to avoid making this trip today, but she knew she’d been putting it off for far too long now.
The last time she’d made the trip had been two Christmases ago when she’d visited home for the holidays.
She adjusted her coat pulling it closed tighter against her body as she made her way through the long hallways of Saint Elizabeth’s.
It was a plain looking building, a little dull to be honest. It was a large structure that looked very much like any other hospital. The sign out front simply stated Saint Elizabeth’s Institute and stated the year it had been established.
The inside of the building felt sterile and always held an odor of bleach and an undertone of something quite unpleasant that someone had attempted to cover with lavender air freshener. The scent always gave Y/N a headache.
The entire place actually made her feel ill. The building always felt far too cold even in the winter. The sparse furniture in the hallway and the lack of decor only added to the feeling of cold. The walls were all either white or a pale blue. She’d assumed the color choices were meant to be calming, but it just made her feel lethargic.
The overhead lights gave the hallway a far too bright tone and patients and nurses alike passed Y/N on occasion as she slowly made her way through the halls, though the patients for the most part seemed to be escorted by a nurse or some other aide.
Y/N cringed as she neared the hospital’s recreation room having been told by the nurse on hand that this would be the best place to visit with her brother.
Lunch had ended not long ago and medications had just been given out. Most of the hospital’s residents were in their rooms or off to their daily therapy sessions. Y/N had been told simply to head to the recreation room and a nurse would fetch Daniel and bring him to her.
She sighed as she reached the room trying not to cringe as she took a seat in a plastic chair by a small table. She’d never grow accustomed to the strange furniture in the institute. It was all plastic and mostly bolted down to the floor.
She knew the reasoning of course; some patients might be prone to violent fits and it wasn’t wise to have heavy furniture that was not attached to the floor. A nurse had reassured Y/N, the first time she’d noticed the strange furniture, that it was intended both for the safety of the staff and residents alike.
The recreation room didn’t seem to have much for recreation. There was a television which was bolted up high against the wall, a few board games in a cabinet, a few books and magazines, and a few jigsaw puzzles. Y/N guessed that the staff kept most of the recreation locked away until it was time to use it.
Y/N adjusted the visitors badge that had been attached to her coat, briefly debating taking the coat off but deciding against it as she noticed a chill to the air as the air conditioner switched on making the cold space all the more icy.
She shifted in her seat crossing and uncrossing her legs. She frowned slightly regretting not wearing something more casual.
She’d chosen to wear an outfit she might usually wear at work; a black dress, tights, a dark coat, and a pair of black ballet flats.
She was technically making this trip during a work-day after all, so she’d dressed for the work day.
She sighed, staring down at her hands as she placed them on the table in front of her. She resisted the urge to pull out the pocket mirror she carried in her purse and check her appearance. She silently debated if she should have worn her makeup a little lighter. The darker lipstick most likely made her look all too much like a woman in her late twenties instead of the girl Daniel at times remembered her as being.
A voice in the back of her head warned her that Daniel might not entirely recognize her today, though she’d been told by the nurse that he was having a good memory day.
Y/N knew that most of the time though Daniel most likely still pictured her as that eighteen year old girl with a nostril piercing and an honestly peachy tone of pink hair that had faded over the summer, her roots all too noticeable. He remembered her as she’d been back when he was 24 years old, the year he’d had his accident.
She knew she’d grown since then. She no longer appeared to be that rebellious punky teen girl. She looked like an elegant young lady.
It felt strange to realize that though she was the younger sibling it felt as though she'd somehow taken the role of the older sibling. She was older now than her brother had been when he'd had his accident.
She was certain her more professional adult look might seem alarming to him if his memory happened to be struggling that day.
Y/N wouldn’t lie, at times she feared that a day would come where Daniel would no longer recognize her as his sister. As they grew older she knew her appearance would change all the more.
The doctors didn’t seem to have any clear answers as to whether his memory would decline further with his head injury. For the most part she felt that the doctors seemed to stick to the line that no head injury was exactly alike. She’d heard the promise that they would monitor his symptoms but only time would tell what the future held for him.
All they knew was that her brother struggled with his impulse control, his emotional control, and occasionally short term memory. He also struggled with self-care; remembering to do something as simple as bathing and brushing his teeth. Then there was the issue of the seizures, though they were rare.
The medications he took were meant to control the seizures as well as his emotional outbursts.
For the most part Y/N felt that the medications only made him drowsy and slow. They’d caused him to put on weight as they increased his appetite. That was why he would not stay on them if he was left to his own devices. He didn’t like how they made him feel, but without them his symptoms only worsened.
She knew that because of all of these issues that the hospitalization was necessary. It didn’t stop her from feeling guilty as hell though.
She tried to appear as though she was carefree as the nurse she’d spoken to entered the room guiding her brother over to the table.
Y/N hesitated to reach for him as he was sat down at the table across from her. She always feared touching him first, almost certain that one day he would only see her as a stranger.
Her brother was clean shaven; it was a stark contrast to how he’d been before the accident. He usually always wore some scruff. His hair was no longer shaggy the same way he’d once kept it; instead it was cut shorter than he’d ever keep it if it was entirely up to him. He seemed far too pale and the dark circles under his eyes were far too noticeable. He was wearing the same thing he usually wore each time she saw him; gray sweatpants and a white t- shirt with socks and houseshoes.
He was at least clean; the staff made sure he bathed.
Y/N at least made sure to send him clothing as often as she could, always initialing the tags with his name so that it would hopefully not be misplaced when the laundry was done. The hospital bracelet he wore on his wrist alerted staff of his name and his level of care along with some other information. The print was always too fine to read without making her feel like she had to strain her eyes.
She was relieved as he seemed to recognize her after a moment of uncertainty. He spoke his voice a raspy sluggish tone as his hand reached out for hers. “What are you doing here?”
Y/N spoke her voice soft as she tried to pretend the nurse wasn’t lingering nearby clearly monitoring the situation. “I was in the area. I thought I’d come for a visit.”
“Is dad here too?” The question spilled from Daniel’s lips Y/N doing all she could not to outwardly grimace.
Telling her brother that their father was dead was not something that had stuck in his memory. He went back and forth between remembering their father was dead to forgetting it entirely.
His doctors had advised her not to tell him that their father was dead during the times he seemed to forget. It was too upsetting to him, she’d been told. It would only make him relive the fresh grief over and over again.
“No, he couldn’t make it…work is busy. Skeeter and he had a big funeral they had to prep for.” Y/N lied through her teeth hating that it had to be like this.
She knew it was the best case scenario of course. It was cruel to keep making him relive that grief in times like this.
However it was difficult to pretend that their father wasn’t dead and buried in Charming’s cemetery where he’d been for months now. She knew well enough he was dead. She’d embalmed his body at his request in his final wishes. She’d chosen the casket and the flowers as well as the pamphlets for the funeral. She’d found a minister to speak at his funeral. She’d written the obituary and paid to have it posted in Charming’s local newspaper. She had stood in a receiving line for mourners playing the role of the bereaved instead of the funeral director. She’d had to take on the emotional and financial burden of the funeral. She had to read his will and realize her life was changed forever.
She had to do it all by herself, and now she had to carry on this act pretending that none of that emotional turmoil had happened.
Daniel twisted his lips, his brow furrowing. “He’s mad at me.”
“Why would you say that, sweetheart?” Y/N asked managing to give his hand a gentle squeeze trying to keep her voice level.
She winced a voice in the back of her head taunting her that she was an awful sister, lying to her brother carrying on this charade that their father was alive.
Daniel scoffed at the question, his brow furrowing further. “I don’t know…he’s just mad at me. I must have done something awful. That's why he never visits.”
Y/N sighed that cruel voice in the back of her head insisting if their father was still living and had any reason to be mad at anyone then she would probably be the one in deep shit at the moment given her current ties to SAMCRO. She was quite sure she would be the reigning champion of being the family disappointment at the moment.
She pushed the thought from her mind, her voice cracking somewhat as she struggled not to start crying. “That isn’t true, my darling. He’s not mad at you. He loves you very much. He loves both of us more than we know. Even if we upset him, he’d never deny us that love. You know he’s always been there for us…even when we mess up. That’s the kind of dad he is. Remember that time I broke that brand new urn that we had in the display room because I kept playing in the display room after he told me not to. He was so upset but he didn’t even yell or spank me. It was a super expensive urn too…uh had the gold edges to it…it probably cost a fortune, but he only gave me a firm talking to and didn’t make me feel bad for it for too long. I was barely grounded. You know dad’s heart. He wears it on his sleeve. Even if you upset him, he wouldn’t be a jerk about it.”
She paused, taking a deep breath once again lying through her teeth. “You know how he is, Danny. He’s a workaholic. Once he gets caught up with work there’s no pulling him away. I’m sure he’s going to visit soon…maybe once work slows down.”
“When can I go home? I want to go home.” Daniel remarked, apparently moving on from the subject of their father on to another difficult subject.
She sighed, shaking her head, not surprised by the choice in subject. They had this talk often and it was always difficult. “I don’t know when, Danny. You’re still not well. You have to stay here a little longer. Just until you get better. I know it’s hard, but you have to stay here a little longer.”
“I feel fine though. I feel okay, I just want to go home. Please, Y/N take me home.” He insisted his voice cracking, he squeezing her hand almost hard enough it hurt.
She took a deep breath shaking her head, a stray tear working its way down her cheek. She wiped it quickly with her free hand. “I can’t. I wish I could, but I can’t…not yet.”
“Why not?” He snapped, squeezing her hand even harder enough to make her flinch the pain shooting through her nerve endings.
She sighed as the nurse stepped forward ready to step into action if things got too out of hand.
She spoke, taking a deep breath. “Because you aren’t well. I know you think you feel fine, but you aren’t ready to go home yet. Just be patient, sweetheart.”
“It’s easy for you to say. You don’t have to stay here.” He snapped again his grip on her hand not loosening even slightly.
She took another deep breath, shooting the nurse a glance of reassurance before she spoke again. “I know. I’m so sorry. I would take you home if I could, in a heartbeat. We have to wait though.”
She spoke again trying to distract him knowing it was the best method to take when he got worked up like this. “In the meantime try to find things to keep you busy. The grounds here are nice, aren’t they? I saw some flower beds the last time I was here. I know you like going outside and seeing them when it's nice out. You should see the greenhouse back home. The tomatoes and cucumbers are getting big…the strawberries are looking good too. I can bring you some strawberries next time, if they’ll let me. You like those right? The strawberries were always your favorite. I know you didn’t care much for the gardening part of it…except for that time you grew that marijuana plant that you tried to hide behind my tomato plant. I was so annoyed when I found it…and it didn’t really work anyway because you couldn’t keep enough light on it to actually do anything. Remember that?”
“I don’t care, I want to go home.” Daniel snapped at her squeezing all the harder she audibly letting out a gasp the pain becoming a little too much to ignore.
With this the nurse stepped forward two orderlies seeming to appear out of nowhere.
Y/N cringed as her brother was yanked from her by two large orderlies while fighting against the pull. She held her aching hand trying to ignore the pain and keep her voice soothing as she spoke to him. “Daniel, please. Don’t fight them. Just take a deep breath and calm down. It’s okay, just calm down, please, my darling.”
Of course, her soothing did little good, her brother struggling against the hold. Y/N shrank away as the nurse stepped forward placing a hand on her shoulder. “We’ve got this handled, Miss. Y/L/N. Don’t worry. We’re going to give him something to relax him.”
Y/N parted her lips tempted to snap that she didn’t want him doped up more than he already was, but she kept the words at bay
She turned her eyes to the floor feeling helpless as the nurse guided her from the room. She felt the tears begin to fall at the words that were shouted at her by her big brother as she left the room. “I hate you! I don’t want you to come back! I hate you!”
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She didn’t allow the tears to fully fall until she left the building, practically collapsing against a bench on the walkway up to the entrance.
She took a deep breath trying her best to keep her composure as she wiped at her eyes furiously.
She was thankful that there were seemingly no other visitors nearby though she had a feeling if there were they would not pay her any mind. She had a feeling her reaction was a normal one for those visiting loved ones at the institution.
She took another deep breath trying hard to push the last words she’d heard her brother say from her mind.
She knew he didn’t mean them, not really. That was the thing about his condition. The filter that should stop him from saying the first thing that came to his mind just didn’t exist anymore.
Y/N stared down at her purse, opening it and searching through it for the travel sized container of tissues she always carried, her hands brushing across her cell phone.
She was stunned as a thought crossed her mind; she wanted Filip.
It felt odd to admit, even if it was only in her head.
It had been a few weeks since that date they’d had and surprisingly Chibs had called her loyally every single day. Although the calls were never quite at the same time each day, they still managed to be a daily occurrence.
It was strange to admit that she’d found some comfort in the calls.
The calls were something she actually found herself looking forward to.
It was almost funny to consider how a few weeks before she had just wanted her admittedly criminally prone Scottish admirer to get lost, but now she happily anticipated the daily phone conversations they had.
She was a bit surprised that he had not pushed her to plan the second date she’d promised him. A small part of her had to wonder if perhaps he was waiting on her to make the next move. It felt almost amusing to consider that the scary outlaw was feeling nervous and waiting for her to make the next move.
The phone conversations they'd had felt light, especially considering the way she’d practically dumped her past traumas into his lap on that first date.
They’d talked about their days, Y/N discussing whichever body she was prepping or her frustrations with the local florist who was always screwing up orders for funeral flowers. He’d talk about something dumb Half-Sack or Juice had done and a bike or car he was working on at the garage.
She’d found that she liked the clear sense of adoration she heard in his voice when he discussed his brothers even when he called them idiots. She’d also discovered that she liked the passion in his voice when he talked about whatever motorcycle he was repairing.
She’d enjoyed listening to him discuss a terrible but healthy smoothie Juice had tried to get him to drink or something truly awkward Half-Sack had managed to say right in front of Clay.
She was surprised to find that Chibs made her laugh. Even when she was stuck in the gloom of embalming a difficult case that felt honestly depressing; she was able to place Chibs on speaker phone and feel some sense of light through the gloom.
The conversations had felt easy with him though they hadn’t necessarily been deep conversations.
It still felt nice; discussing her day with someone. It wasn’t something she’d had with someone in a very very long time.
She was stunned to admit that she had found a sense of comfort with Chibs. It was such a contradiction when she said it outloud; the dangerous outlaw biker felt comforting.
She was surprised to find that he was sweet; it was something she’d not expected. She knew no one would believe her. It sounded like another huge contradiction; the admitted criminal was sweet.
She wasn’t naive of course. She knew that Chibs most likely had a side to himself that was far from sweet. She was aware enough to know that he had most likely done horrible things in the past and was capable of doing terrible things in the future.
It was a simple fact that she was surprised failed to invoke fear in her. If anything, a voice in the back of her head was quick to remind her that she’d done a few awful things of her own lately…even if those awful things were at SAMCRO’s request.
That voice in the back of her head still taunted her of course that Chibs would only lead her back to being the unhappy girl she was living in the chaos of SAMCRO. The voice was all quick to call Chibs a devil who’d tempt her back into being in that dark place she’d been in almost a decade before. The voice insisted he’d lead her right back into hell. It reminded her of something her grandmother used to say; you can’t dance with the devil and then keep wondering why you’re in hell.
Another voice snapped that it was hard to believe she would be unhappy though. She certainly didn’t feel unhappy around him. Being around him didn’t feel like she was in hell. Sure, she was aware that the world he existed in came with a level of chaos.
She reasoned that in a way she had already signed herself back up for that chaos. She’d signed herself up for it the second she’d agreed to help SAMCRO out and had insisted she would be their new funeral home contact for future favors.
She had asked the devil to dance first hadn’t she?
She was still surprised she’d felt so comfortable explaining everything with her brother and dumping some of her childhood traumas onto Chibs. She was even more surprised that he’d not run screaming.
Y/N could admit she’d not exactly been open about the darker aspects of her childhood and teen years with past boyfriends.
She had only mentioned that she’d been raised in a funeral home and her brother was special needs. She’d casually mentioned she’d been rebellious at one point in her life not going into too much detail.
With Chibs, she’d realized that he’d find out the reality of her brother eventually. If she didn’t say something, surely someone around town would mention it.
She’d guessed telling him herself would at least let her control the narrative. At least if it came from her lips then he’d get the truth and not whatever wild tale he might hear from someone else.
Somehow even with the truth about her brother and the darker aspects of her childhood, Chibs had not seemed to shy away.
It was something she was astonished by. She was accustomed to people leaving when she was too much.
She’d more often than not been told she was too exhausting to be around. She’d more than often been referenced to as being difficult by boyfriends and friends alike. She was too morbid, too snarky, too moody, and just flat out too much to put up with for the long-term.
Chibs didn’t seem to think that she was too much.
So maybe that was why she reached for her cell phone dialing the familiar number.
She let out a breath she’d not even realized she’d been holding at the sound of his voice on the other end of the line. “Hen, I was jus’ thinkin’ bout ya.”
She managed to feel a small tight smile cross her features at the statement. She was no longer tempted to tell him that he was full of shit and just trying to flatter his way into her pants.
He’d often started out the phone calls he made to her the same way I wanted to call because I was thinking about you.
It felt nice to believe that he thought about her enough to want to hear her voice.
She managed to speak grimacing as she realized her voice felt as weepy as she felt. “Hey.”
“What’s wrong? Ya sound rough, lass.” The concern was evident in his voice. She could distinctly hear the sounds of the garage in the background hinting he was at TM Auto.
The noise grew fainter indicating he seemed to be moving further from the garage most likely wanting to find some privacy for their conversation.
“I just…I’m out in Lodi…visiting my brother.” She admitted staring down at her lap the stark black of her clothing looking inky and harsh against the pale concrete below her feet.
“Aye, wasn’t a good visit I’m guessin’?” Chibs was fast to respond that concern still so clear in his voice.
She let out a weak laugh shaking her head as she responded. “No, no it wasn’t”
Chibs was fast to speak his voice taking a softer tone, the sound feeling soothing. “Ya wanna talk ‘bout it?”
“I kind of want a good stiff drink to be honest…but uh…yeah…I mean, it’s just difficult. He doesn’t remember our dad is…gone…and he doesn’t get why he can’t go home. It’s just…it’s a shit situation. The last thing he said before I left was that he hates me and never wants me to come back.” She remarked a shaky sigh leaving her, her eyes still focused on the pavement below her trying hard to not let herself break down again.
“Oh, Hen, ya know that ain’ true righ’. He doesn’ mean it. He’s jus’...confused, love. Yer his sister. He loves ya.” was the reply she received. She was a bit surprised to hear a hint of shakiness in his own voice.
“I know, I know…he’s no longer has the ability to stop himself from saying the first thing that comes to his mind…I mean most people if they’re upset might first think they hate someone…but usually that filter in their head will stop them from just blurting that out…his filter…it just doesn’t do what it should. I just hate it…today was allegedly supposed to be a good memory day too…so much for that.” She remarked another shaky sigh escaping her lips.
She swallowed the lump developing in the back of her throat before she spoke again not having it in her to hate how needy her voice sounded. “Can you talk to me about something different…anything? Something nice?”
She was surprised by the response she got. “Ya ever had shortbread? Scottish Shortbread?”
“Uh, I mean…I’ve had shortbread cookies…from the grocery store.” She admitted, a bit thrown off by the conversation choice, but she had requested that he talk about literally anything else other than her current situation.
She rolled her eyes, unable to stop the hint of a genuine smile from crossing her lips at his quick reply. “Nah, not that. That’s pure shite, Hen. Leave that grocery store prepackaged stuff alone. I’m talkin’ real Scottish shortbread.”
“I guess, I’ve never had it then. What’s so special about it?” She dared to ask the misery she felt a moment before lifting by the second.
Chibs didn’t waste a moment to reply. “It’s amazin’, one of my favorites. My ma used to make it the best…I can’ get hers round here of course. The trick is ya gotta have it fresh, with tea or milk on the side. I’m gettin’ ya some real shortbread. Ya gotta try it at leas’ once.”
She spoke, shaking her head the words falling from her lips. “Maybe you should take me to get some then. I apparently need to see what I’m missing.”
“Aye, ya askin’ me out on a date, Hen?” The response came so naturally a flirty tone entering his voice.
She smirked it not taking her long to answer. “I am…and I won’t even bribe you with car repairs.”
She felt as though the misery she’d felt just moments ago was long gone as Chibs managed to laugh at the response he fast to respond. “Aye, ya don’ gotta bribe me to take ya out, love.”
She shook her head ignoring the cruel voice in the back of her head that claimed she belonged locked up right alongside her brother if she was agreeing to another date.
She distinctly remembered the comment Gemma had made the day she’d given Y/N a ride home. It's never just one date.
It would seem indeed that it was not destined to be just one date.
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Chibs sighed, his stomach churning as Tig gazed up at him as he passed by the bar in SAMCRO’s clubhouse. “You going to see Y/N again?”
Chibs let out a huff knowing that the cologne he’d put on had most likely given him away. He’d only worn it once afterall the last time he’d taken Y/N out. He was certain Juice must have blabbed his big mouth all about Chibs’ big date and the effort he’d put into his appearance for said date . “Aye, I am.”
“You’ve been talking to her a lot lately. Lots of phone calls.” Tig observed the comment making Chibs feel uneasy.
“Aye.” He kept the response short, shifting the box of shortbread he’d rode out to pick up from a bakery early this morning before they had a chance to sell out.
It wasn’t his mother’s shortbread but it was the closest thing he could find all the way out in California.
“So, you hitting that?” Tig dared to ask, Chibs narrowing his eyes at the question, his free hand that wasn’t holding the box of cookies forming a fist.
He pushed back the desire to throw a punch as he replied. “Ain’ none of yer business.”
Tig smirked, clearly spotting he’d maybe struck a nerve with his brother. Occasionally he could admit he liked pushing his brothers’ buttons…mostly out of boredom.
He’d taken notice of course, that Chibs had been skipping out on Friday night parties and had definitely been neglecting the croweaters.
There was only one possible thing keeping Chibs so distracted. He’d definitely noticed the little looks Chibs had sent SAMCRO’s new asset that night at the crematorium.
Tig didn’t particularly care to be honest. He was struck by a sense of curiosity though.
He had been around almost a decade before when Y/N had been a frequent visitor to the clubhouse. He could remember the mouthy girl who had been more than willing to drink and smoke a joint. He could also distinctly remember that she’d been less than interested in letting him in her pants….and he’d tried quite hard to charm his way into them.
He could admit it was a bit of a knock to the ego to think that Chibs might very well be traversing territory Tig had failed to explore. He had to admit he felt envious of the Scot.
Tig shook his head. “Just saying, brother. Be careful with that one. She knows a million ways to get rid of a body. I wouldn’t piss her off.”
“Ya ain’ got nothin to worry bout.” Chibs snapped thinking back to the tense conversation he’d had with Clay before that first date he’d had with Y/N.
Tig shook his head a sigh leaving him not helping but to prod a little more even if he knew his next statement was an asshole move. He could admit that a sense of jealousy was maybe pushing him to run his mouth. “I’m guessing little Miss. Death doesn’t know about your wife back in Belfast…pretty sure you’d already be in a casket somewhere if she did. Didn’t think she’d be cool with being a mistress. I mean, she was wild back in the day, tight as hell and a great set of tits from what I heard too, but she still had some moral backbone.”
Chibs moved forward, his fist partially raising but he didn’t have a chance to get far, Juice taking enough notice to step in between Chibs and Tig. Juice maneuvered Chibs away quick to speak. “Let’s take a walk man, come on.”
“Ya keep yer fuckin mouth shut bout her. Ya don’ know what yer talkin bout.” Chibs snapped sending a warning glare at Tig's direction as Juice pushed him away.
Chibs yanked from Juice’s attempts he glaring down at the younger man. “I don’ need a fuckin’ walk. Ya tell that prick if he ever mentions her body or calls her a mistress again I’ll fuckin’ bash his head in.”
Juice groaned as he watched Chibs storm off towards his bike. He rolled his eyes as Tig approached him, the man shrugging his shoulders apparently not minding the death threat. “Was it something I said?”
Juice shook his head as he watched Chibs ride off. He sent Tig a look he speaking. “Really?”
Tig shrugged, playing innocent. “I’m just looking out for him. She finds out about his wife, he’s dead meat. Not to mention, if he pisses her off real good then we lose our funeral home contact.”
Juice shook his head, not responding as he made his way back into the clubhouse. He had to hope that if Chibs continued whatever he had going on with Y/N that he explained his complex past and she didn’t murder him.
Even with as crude as Tig had been, Chibs most likely would be buried alive if he kept that tidbit of information from Y/N.
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Y/N sighed as a firm knock sounded at her office door, cracking slightly Skeeter’s head barely peeking in.
The man spoke, his eyes rolling ever so slightly at the information he was about to share with his boss. “You have a gentleman caller.”
Chibs frowned, unable to see past Skeeter as Y/N let out a groan from behind the half closed door. “I can’t decide if that’s worse than calling him the outlaw biker. It sounds less panic inducing to anyone that might overhear it, but it makes me sound like I’m some sort of freaking Southern Belle.”
She paused before speaking again. “Well, let him in.”
Skeeter did as he was told though he looked as though he’d much rather deny Chibs entry. Chibs didn’t miss the stern look of disapproval as he passed by the mortician.
Y/N spoke, spotting that Skeeter was still lingering. “You can go, Skeet. I promise I’m fine all on my lonesome.”
Chibs didn’t miss the glare Skeeter sent his way before he shut the door behind him.
He took a deep breath trying to calm any rage that was still lingering around in his gut after his confrontation with Tig. He refused to let her see the enraged parts of him.
He studied her, the sight of her soothing him. She was dressed in another work outfit, another black dress similar to the one he’d seen her wear the first time he’d come to the funeral home.
He had to wonder how many black dresses she owned. He had a feeling it had to be quite a few.
She pushed back her chair standing up from her desk and rounded it as she made her way over to him.
She pressed a soft kiss to his cheek, the action soothing him further. She spoke, spotting the tension practically vibrating off him. ‘Are you okay? You seem…agitated.”
Chibs did his best to give her a smile though he knew it came out as more of a grimace. “Jus’ Tig bein a fuckin’ prick.”
She let out a small bitter laugh rolling her eyes at the comment. “I guess he hasn’t changed much in my time away.”
Chibs took a deep breath tempted to ask her if she’d ever been intimate with Tig, but he bit his tongue.
He had a feeling she’d not given Tig had only commented on what he’d heard about her.
Chibs silently reminded himself that he didn’t care what her past with SAMCRO was. She had said it herself. She was no longer a club hangaround.
A possessive little voice piped up in the back of Chibs’ head insisting she was his now. Another voice piped up that he’d meant what he’d said to Tig. He’d kill the man if he ever commented on her body ever again. He didn’t care if the man was his brother, he’d bash his face in.
He took a few more deep breaths trying to calm himself.
Another thing Tig had said had troubled Chibs; the mention of Fiona. It was something Chibs knew would have to come up sooner than later.
Chibs knew Tig was right about one thing…if he kept that part of his past hidden from Y/N she’d probably shove him in the ground. In fact, Chibs was sure that if he withheld this information from her then Y/N would bury him so deep that the devil himself would need a shovel to dig him back up again.
He took a deep breath holding out the box of shortbread he’d gotten; he was no longer as giddy about presenting it to her as he’d been moments before. “I got ya somethin.”
She took it from him, a soft laugh leaving her becoming distracted from his clearly tense mood. “Shortbread. I’m supposed to drink it with tea right, or milk?”
“Aye, whichever ya want. Try it tonigh’ and let me know what ya think.” Chibs replied, his strained mood fading by the second.
She placed the box on her desk giving him a soft smile. “You didn’t have to come all the way over here just to give me some cookies.”
“Aye, I wanted to…I was hopin’ I could take ya out fer lunch too.” Chibs insisted, having made up his mind on the way to the Funeral Home.
He had to come clean about his past. He had to open up and pray she didn’t hate his guts or assume he was attempting to make her into the other woman.
She gave him a soft smile nodding down to her clothing. “Do you mind if I change shoes? I don’t think heels are a smart idea on the back of a bike.”
He nodded his head trying his best to give her a smile and hide the anxiety beginning to bubble in his stomach. “Aye, heels are probably not a good idea, Hen. I’ll wait on ya.”
She pressed another kiss to his cheek, that warm feeling washing over him again soothing a bit more of his agitation and anxiety.
He watched her leave the room, taking a deep breath as he dropped down into one of the chairs across from her desk.
He stared around the office studying the multitude of items. He clasped his hands together spotting a thick binder sitting on a shelf behind her desk that was labeled casket catalog 2007-2008.
He prayed to any God that might be listening that she wouldn’t shove him in any of those caskets after he broke the news about the life he’d been banished from in Belfast.
Chibs tried to find something less distressing to focus on. His eyes caught a photo on the wall it lifting his spirits momentarily.
He barely recognized Y/N in the photo. She was so young, clearly barely a teenager. He could distinctly spot a pair of braces on her teeth and a t-shirt emblazoned with Charming’s nearest high school’s mascot. He guessed that perhaps it was a photo leftover from when the office had belonged to her father.
Another photo was framed beside it. Y/N was even younger in this one sat on the front porch of the Funeral Home with a little boy beside her. She looked quite miserable in the soft pink dress she was wearing judging by the clear scowl fixed into her little features. He felt his stomach turn realizing the boy sitting beside her had to be her older brother.
He sighed thinking back to the phone call they’d had the day before after she visited her brother, hoping he wasn’t about to give her another reason to cry.
He didn’t have long to focus on the fear as the office door opened the object of his adoration reentering the room, a pair of black converse on her feet and a dark coat over her dress.
She spoke nodding to him. “Okay, I’m ready when you are.”
He stood up taking her hand in his once again praying to anyone who might happen to be listening that he wasn’t about to lose the woman he’d just barely managed to start winning over.
—---------------------------------------------------
The taco stand was a bit of a surprise. Y/N didn’t think much of it though, deciding that she was just happy to have a second date with Chibs even if it was a little more spontaneous than she’d expected.
They sat outside on benches the weather thankfully not cool enough for the outdoor space to feel uncomfortable. They seemed to be the only patrons at this stand and she hoped that this wasn’t a sign of the quality of their meal.
Chibs himself was debating if the taco truck was the best plan. He’d decided that an outdoor space was probably best for the bombshell he was about to drop on her.
He sighed as she spoke, raising an eyebrow at him taking notice of the fact that he seemed distracted. He’d not even touched his food yet and had seemed dazed as he’d ordered. “Are you sure everything is okay? I mean, how bad did Tig piss you off?”
She cringed worrying that she was pushing it. She imagined it had something to do with the club. She wasn’t sure if they were at the level where Chibs was going to be that open with her about anything related to the club despite her partnership with SAMCRO as a provider of favors.
Chibs let out another sigh deciding he wouldn’t repeat exactly what Tig had said. He had a feeling she’d probably kill the man for commenting on her body in that crude of a manner especially in relation to her past. “He’s jus’ an arse sometimes. It’s jus…I got somthin to tell ya.”
She felt her stomach roll hating that statement. It sounded so ominous. “What’s going on?”
Chibs sighed, deciding to ease into this. “I know I ain’ told ya much bout my family.”
Y/N spoke her cheeks flushing the words falling from her. “I haven’t given you much of a chance. I mean…I kind of turned our first date into a trauma dumping session. I didn’t leave you much room to talk about your own family.”
Chibs spoke, shaking his head reaching out his hand pressing over hers. “It’s fine, Hen. I didn’ mind it.”
He took a deep breath speaking again the words falling out of his lips. “I have a daughter.”
She widened her eyes, not expecting that. She guessed it shouldn’t be too surprising though. He was in his forties. He had to have some life before her. “How old is she?”
“Thirteen…Kerrianne…her name is Kerrianne.” Chibs responded a small smile crossing her features.
“That’s a pretty name, I don’t think I’ve ever heard it before. What’s she like?” Y/N asked genuinely curious to know.
She was surprised she didn’t mind the concept of dating a guy with a kid. She’d never really been around children, but she liked them. She had never really put much thought into if she wanted children of her own. She found that she liked Chibs enough to accept that he was a parent and to accept whatever role she played in that if their relationship should progress to that point.
Chibs cringed the words falling from him. “I don’ know…I ain’ seen her since she was bout four.”
Y/N felt her stomach drop at this information. He was a deadbeat? She felt her stomach sour at the thought.
Chibs sighed, shaking his head, spotting the look on her face only able to imagine the thoughts running through her mind. He had a feeling none of them were positive. He spoke again the words sliding from his lips before he could stop them. “She lives in Belfast…with my wife.”
Y/N was certain if she had a drink in her hand she would have tossed it in his face. She glared at him, yanking her hand from his her voice harsh. “You’re fucking married? Are you serious?”
She scoffed getting up from the bench before he had a chance to register what was happening.
She spoke, snatching up her purse and her coat as she prepared herself to leave her temper rising by the second. “What am I then? Am I just some stateside fun? Was I meant to be the girl you fucked in the US while your wife and kid sit back in Ireland? I mean, I knew you SAMCRO guys were kind of dysfunctional when it came to relationships and monogamy but this really takes the cake on fucked up. I don’t know what you’ve heard about me from Jackson and all your little friends down at the clubhouse. I know I haven’t always been smart about the guys I’ve hooked up with in the past, but I have developed way more of a sense of self worth than I had almost a decade ago. I am no one’s fucking mistress. Have a nice life Chibs…actually, no, you have the life you deserve. You are such an asshole.”
Chibs scrambled up from the bench moving quick to follow her. He reached out taking her hand in his not shocked as she yanked it away her voice raising. “Don’t you dare touch me!”
Chibs moved fast moving in front of her placing his hands on her shoulder he fast to speak. “Just give me five minutes…Jus’ five minutes to explain.”
“Explain what? You’re a married deadbeat dad, I’m the other woman. End of story. Good riddance.” She snapped moving aside trying to move past him.
Chibs moved just as fast stepping in front of her. “There’s more to the story, lass. Jus’ please, hear me out. If ya still hate me after I tell ya the entire story, I’ll fuck off.”
She groaned tempted to tell him that there was not a story on this planet he could tell to explain away the bombshell he’d just dropped on her.
She gazed up at him, hating to admit that she noticed the longing in his eyes. There was a sense of desperation there that she didn’t like.
She let out a huff crossing her arms over her chest. “You have five minutes. If I sense even an ounce of bullshit, I’m leaving and not looking back.”
Chibs nodded his head nodding over to a nearby bench. “Can we sit?”
She scoffed, rolling her eyes. “Fine, but the time to go to the bench and sit deducts from the five minute timeline I set.”
He spoke as they sat he sighing. “Fiona an I are estranged. I ain’ seen her in close to a decade now. I ain’ even spoke to her on the phone.”
“But you haven’t divorced her and you don’t see your kid.” Y/N snapped not entirely impressed if this was his attempt to explain himself.
Chibs cringed fast to speak again. “It ain' an option… neither the divorce or seein my Kerrianne.”
He paused, spotting the look of annoyance on her features as she spoke. “Let me guess? Getting divorced is a huge Catholic no no? Is being a deadbeat dad just a passion project for you?”
Chibs let out a huff shaking his head. “I ain’ exactly practicin’ So, no’ entirely and I ain’t a deadbeat by choice.”
She glared at him her words harsh. “ Don’t you dare try to feed me that my ex is nuts and won’t let me see my kid bullshit. I have heard it from a guy before and I don’t believe the story.”
He spoke shaking his head. “This ain’t me being some arsehole da abandonin his kid. Fiona ain’t the one keepin me away.”
He paused, clearing his throat knowing he had to tell the entrie story, every painful detail. “I met Fiona when I was sixteen. I’d moved to Belfast with my ma an my sister Cait. We moved from one housin’ estate to another…we were poor…My da…he was a real prick…mean bastard who no one missed when he walked out…my ma worked herself to the bone to barely scrape by. I was angry, mad at the world. I was pissed at the government and establishment in general. Fiona…er family was involved in the cause. Third generation…True IRA.”
He paused not wanting to meet Y/N’s eyes as he explained this bit of information. He spoke again, a sigh leaving him. “She talked bout the cause…bout her family. Told me grand tales of the figh’ fer a free Ireland. I was entranced with her stories…entranced with her. By the time we were married I was fully involved in the cause.”
He took another deep breath taking a chance to peek over at Y/N not liking that a hint of fear had joined the rage in her eyes.
He spoke again hoping that even if she understood the history behind Fiona and him that the mention of his involvement with the cause wouldn’t destroy things anyhow. “There was this lad…an ol’ friend of Fiona’s…they were childhood friends. He knew her before I did…Jimmy O’Phalen. He loved her before I did…He hated me…hated that I won Fiona…hated that she loved me…hated my background. He claimed I couldn’t be loyal to the cause given my ancestry…I wasn’ Irish, so I wasn’t as dedicated…I didn’ pay him any mind. I kept on with the cause. Life went on. The years passed by. Fiona an I somehow survived all of our twenties intact..made it to our thirties.”
“Kerrianne…she was born and it was like my life…it got brighter. I loved bein’ her da. I saw it as a chance to be a better lad than my bastard of a da. I stopped bein’ so angry…I…Jimmy O’ called it a weakness…He rose up in the ranks of the cause…got himself into a pretty high spot on the food chain…He started sowing distrust among others involved…started sayin’ I was a loyalist to the crown…sayin I was not truly dedicated…and then when my Kerrianne was barely a year old…Jimmy O’ did this to me.” Chibs explained reaching up to slide along the scars embedded into the flesh along his cheeks.
He paused his throat growing tight still not wanting to meet Y/N’s eyes. He spoke again a shaky sigh leaving him. “I gotta nother scar, along my belly. He tried to gut me too…it was…I almost died…I los’ a lotta blood, lost consciousness. I think the face…the attack was a play on my birthplace…Glasgow…He…he changed his mind toward the end I guess, decided not to kill me. Decided to give me a chance to live. Had his crew drop me off at the front steps to a hospital. He excommunicated me from the cause.”
“Fiona…your daughter?” Y/N dared to ask amazed she found the words as she tried to absorb everything he’d told her thus far her mind going a million different directions all at once.
Chibs let out a shaky breath the words falling from his lips. “Jimmy O’ took em as his…Fer over a decade now…they’ve been with him. He took my wife an’ raised my little girl as his own. Told me if I ever tried to get em back he’d kill em.”
He shook his head a sigh leaving him. “I wished I’d died tha’ nigh’ fer a long time….i wished he’d just killed me instead of keeping me alive to torment me. I joined up with SAMBEL…Belfast Sons. I knew em from business with the cause. I was their firs’ prospect. They took care of me. I found my place in that world. I…I tried to watch my Kerrianne from a’far…Jimmy O’ let me fer a wee bit…guess he liked dangling her round me…tormenting me with seein’ her from far away…I lasted in SAMBEL fer a few years…but it jus’ it got so…it hur’ seein’ my sweet wee Kerrianne…not bein’ able to even go near her. The chance to patch over to SAMCRO came up an I took it. I wanted to escape.”
He dared to look over at Y/N as he spoke, explaining himself. “Divorcin’ Fiona ain’ an option. Jimmy O’ won’ even let us speak on the phone…I ain’ seen her since I left Belfast. Ya ain’ my mistress. Ya can’t be the other woman when the only reason I ain’ divorced is ‘cause I can’t even talk to my estranged wife to start a divorce.”
Y/N let out a shaky sigh, her mind and her heart feeling heavy. She let everything he’d just told her soak into her brain, her mind going a million different directions.
The rage she’d felt left her body making her feel exhausted. She felt as though she’d been hit by a mack truck. She felt so drained that all she wanted was to lie down and not move again for a long while.
Those pesky voices in the back of her mind that screamed that Chibs would lead her to ruin were so fast to speak up insisting that everything he’d just told her was the only evidence she needed to know that he’d lead her to destruction.
Her heart spoke up easily picking up on the pain in his voice as he recalled the story. She thought of him lying in a hospital recovering from the attack all alone wishing for death knowing he’d lost everything.
She thought of his reaction each time she’d kissed his cheek thus far, the look on his face that told her that no one had shown him that kind of softness. It hit her that she’d kissed a reminder of all that he’d lost.
She let the realization that he was still legally married roll through her brain debating his insistence that she was not his mistress.
She thought of his daughter and his wife, what their lives must be with the man who had harmed Chibs. She questioned why Fiona had not fought for him though she cursed herself for having such a thought. She didn’t know how she would react if it had been her…if she’d been a mother.
She felt her stomach turn, her mind flashing back to what he’d said about the True IRA. The thought frightened her.
She sighed knowing that she’d already realized that Chibs had most likely done horrible things in the past and would do horrible things in the future. She knew he’d never pretended not to be a criminal…at least to her.
She felt a voice in the back of her mind perk up pointing out that Chibs had not given her a reason to think he might harm her. If he was going to harm her he would have killed her that night in the cemetery when she was burying those cremains.
Yes, his past involvement with the cause definitely made her stomach turn and she had a feeling that SAMCRO was still involved given his mention of SAMBEL being involved with the True IRA.
A voice in the back of her head piped up that she wasn’t exactly innocent. She’d done some pretty heinous things for the club lately.
The realization hit her that she didn’t feel afraid of him even with the past misdeeds he may have done for the cause. Even with what he’d done…what he would do in the future for the Sons; she was shocked to find that she didn’t fear for her life.
Chibs felt as though he was the last person on this planet she expected might harm her. Filip Chibs Telford was no monster.
She thought of how sweet he’d been on that first date and how lovely he continued to be.
A monster wouldn’t hold her hand so gently while she spilled her heart about her brother and her past. A monster wouldn’t bring her shortbread. A monster would never look at her like she was a fine work of art.
Chibs dared to speak knowing he had to spill his heart as a last ditch effort to hopefully not lose her. “I ain’ been interested in a woman fer more than sex since I…since Fiona…I took advantage of all that came with the clubhouse.”
Y/N cringed decoding that he meant the croweaters.
Chibs spoke again, a sigh leaving him. “I let myself get swallowed up by life in the Sons...I didn’ want to feel…din’ want to let my heart get involved…Then I met ya. I didn’t expect ya…didn’ expect I’d like ya as much as I do. All I know is yer the firs’ woman I met in over a decade who I wan’ more than just sex with. I like bein’ with ya. I love talkin’ to ya. I think bout ya more often than not. I feel good with ya around. I’m havin a good time with ya and I want to see where it takes us. I don’t want to lose ya when I’ve jus’ barely gotten to have ya. I know I ain’ conventional…I may not be able to give ya the traditional path mos’ relationships take…I jus’ know that when I’m with ya…I don’ want get swallowed up by chaos to escape the misery. So, all I’m askin’ fer is the chance even if it ain’ conventional.”
Y/N let the words marinate in her mind. She picked up on what he said about wanting to be swallowed by chaos to escape feeling awful. Wasn’t that what had led her to hanging around SAMCRO almost a decade before?
She sighed at the realization that no, Chibs would not exactly be able to offer her the stereotypical relationship path. If he was still married there would be no white wedding in the future.
She furrowed her brow knowing she wasn’t exactly in the place in this relationship with him to even consider marriage. The concept of even thinking that far into the future this soon in a relationship that was barely even beginning to bloom was preposterous.
She glanced over at Chibs her heart telling her that she’d had fun with him. She didn’t want to sink into misery and isolation when he was around.
She recalled the thought she’d had that first date when she had to leave to attend to the deceased that had fallen into the care of her funeral home.
For the first time in her life she preferred the company of someone living and didn’t want to avoid life to tend to the dead.
Her heart screamed that she didn’t want to go back to isolating herself and spending all her time with the dead.
She wanted to live. Chibs made her want to live.
She reached out, making up her mind, her hand sliding over his as she spoke. “Do you promise me every single thing you just said to me is the absolute truth? I am not the other woman?”
“I swear to ya. You are not a mistress. I may be a bastard, but I ain’ goin to lie bout that.” Chibs insisted his heart daring to lift just the slightest.
Y/N sighed telling the fears in the back of her head to shut up, deciding to listen to what her heart screamed. “Okay. I’m here…I’m not going anywhere Filip.”
She paused, shaking her head as she spoke again. “I’ve never been the conventional type…I don’t expect traditional from you…at least not in the white picket fence stereotype ... .I do expect monogamy, Filip. If you want someone who’s fine sitting by while you get your dick wet somewhere else then I’m not the girl for you.”
“I am fine with that. I don’ want anyone else, Hen. I haven’ even considered it since we met.” He replied being completely honest with her, surprised to find that he didn’t think he’d miss the freedom of not being committed.
She paused, deciding to be honest. “Just promise me something Filip…Swear to me that I’m not a cheap replacement or a fill in for your estranged wife. I can’t be a substitute for what you want ... .I can’t just be the girl you bide your time with while you wait for what you really want to come back to you. I have already filled the role as a substitute pussy for a guy in the past. I refuse to do that again. I don’t want to be used to fill a void in a man. I’m worth more than that.”
Chibs furrowed his brow surprised by the anger that bubbled up in him at her admission about this man from her past.
He gave her hand a squeeze, the words leaving him without hesitation. “Yer not fillin any void fer me…ya ain’ a substitute fer Fiona. I ain’ bidin my time with ya. I want ya fully and completely fer exactly who ya are. Ya ain’ filling a spot fer anyone else.”
She let out a shaky breath, her heart insisting that this was all she needed to know.
She leaned in her lips close to his cheek as she spoke. “Is this okay?”
He widened his eyes as he realized what she was asking. He nodded his head quick to reply. “Yes, please.”
She pressed her lips to his cheek he surprised by the dampness gathering at the corners of his eyes.
The kiss remained lingering, Y/N reaching up to wipe a stray tear from his face as she finally pulled back.
She spoke her voice soft, finding some humor in the moment. “Okay, next date no trauma. We aren’t allowed to cry on the third date.”
Chibs let the laugh leave him, he nodding his head agreeing wholeheartedly.
He wrapped an arm around her waist not helping but to tease her the horrible mood he’d been in all afternoon lifting. “So, I’m gettin a third date?”
She leaned into his embrace a small laugh leaving her. “So long as you promise we don’t cry.”
“Aye no tears from me.” He insisted, squeezing her all the tighter.
She relaxed against him, her eyes closing her body feeling lighter than it had felt in so long.
She knew this was far from conventional but she wasn’t lying. She’d never been a conventional girl.
More Posts from M14mags and Others
How the company reacts to finding out you and fili are married 😂
I loved this request and I decided that instead of making into a full blown fic - that would take me even longer to publish - I would do it headcanon style.
Look at me making my way through requests 💪!
The Company Reacting to You and Fili being Married
Fíli x fem!reader
Warnings: Fíli has one braincell in this one and he does not use it, open ending because it started to get too long but we all know it would turn out okay in the end, f-word, it is really silly I’M SORRY
A/N: It might not be exactly what you had in mind when sending in the request but it’s where my imagination took me 😆 This should not be taken seriously.
you were a last minute addition to the Company
Fíli and Kíli had kept the Quest a secret but you found out anyway, following them all the way to Bag-End
because there was no way they were leaving you behind
they were not happy - except maybe Kíli who was over the moon to see you
almost breaking his brother’s ribs when he shoved his elbow in Fíli’s side
wiggling his eyebrows while his eyes drifted towards you
Fíli immediately regretting ever telling Kíli of his crush on you
little did he know you felt exactly the same
anyways
back to the Company
lots of protest from the other Dwarves because there was no way they were taking a woman with them
it didn’t take long for you to wrap each and every one of them around your little finger
them quickly agreeing on you coming along, but you had to promise not to be a burden to them
Kíli blurting out that he and Fíli would look after you
that earned him a swift kick to the shins from Fíli
he made Kíli promise not to tell you anything and to not tease him about it
Kíli promised to behave and not embarass him in front of you
crossed fingers behind his back
during the journey Fíli had a hard time keeping it together around you
much to the delight of Kíli who found it all hilarious
at the slightest sign of danger, Fíli did his best to shield you from it
it kind of was exhausting really, keeping an eye on both you and his brother while also not trying to get killed himself
as long as you were safe, that was what mattered most
he thought he could pick up some signals from you that you might be feeling the same
or that could just be him seeing things
he was planning on asking you if he could court you as soon as they reclaimed Erebor
so he still had some time to build up his courage
and he was sure not to tell his brother about this
but everything escalated one night when Thorin decided to share some news
they were all sitting around the campfire, chatting after dinner
when suddenly the subject of marriage comes up
Ori asking what a wedding ceremony is like, since he never witnessed one before
before anyone can explain, Thorin clears his throat
“You will find out soon enough. We will have a wedding once Erebor is reclaimed.”
Everyone looking at each other questioningly, shrugging shoulders when asked if they know something
“Who’s getting married?”
dramatic silence
then Thorin looks at Fíli
“As soon as Erebor is ours again, Fíli is to be wed to a lady of nobility of the Iron Hills.”
a few gasps were heard among the Company
Fíli had dropped his bowl of stew to the ground
Kíli sat wide-eyed beside him, his eyes flickering to you
you were completely still, as if frozen in place
you should have known you didn’t stand a chance
Fíli is part of the royal family after all
but then Fíli stands up with a jolt, as if bitten by something
“I can’t marry her.”
Thorin sighs, he knew this was coming
“Fíli, it is important to strengthen the relations with-”
“No, I can’t marry her because... because...”
his eyes landed on you and his heart broke
your eyes fixed on the ground, hands tucked underneath your thighs and biting your lip
in complete panic he said the first thing that came into his mind
“... because I’m ALREADY MARRIED!”
okay well
that maybe wasn’t the best thing to say
seeing how Thorin was about to burst
“Already married? TO WHOM?!”
...
Fíli panicked again
think of a name think of a name think of a name
any name but-
“Y/N!”
your head snapped up and your jaw almost fell to the ground
Kíli screeched in excitement, clapping his back
“Way to go, brother! You never told me you guys eloped?! No wonder she was so keen on coming along.”
Fíli looked at him and was speechless
did he seriously believe he would marry someone without telling him
without telling anyone?
yes, yes he did
it appeared the whole company believed it
he received pats on the back, a shove here and there
lots of ‘congratulations’ and ‘well done’
Dori was tearing up
Glóin and Bombur welcomed him ‘to the club’
you received the same treatment but were still too stunned to react
when Thorin stood before you, you almost cowered in fear underneath his stare
he crossed his arms and gave you a stern look
“Are you pregnant?”
“NO!” both you and Fíli yelled at the same time, absolutely mortified
his lips started to twitch and to your surprise Thorin smiled at you
“It didn’t go the way I expected but... Welcome to the family!”
Thorin hugs you
I repeat
Thorin hugs you
meanwhile Fíli is having a small extensive crisis
he meets your eyes and you’re shooting daggers at him
he fucked up big time
there was no way out of this
not this time
after Thorin it was Kíli’s turn to give you a bonecrushing hug
your feet might have been off the ground for a few seconds
“I never thought he would finally grow a pair! I mean... he couldn’t even talk to you without embarassing himself!”
“Thank you Kee”
you locked eyes with Fíli again
“Excuse me, I need a word with my husband.”
you ignored the feeling in your stomach when you said that
how right it felt
lots of hooting and hollering when you dragged Fíli out of the campsite
you raised an eyebrow at him in question
enter puppy eyed Fíli
“I panicked”
“Out of all the names you could have blurted out it had to be mine?”
since he was already in too deep he could just as well tell you the truth
it’s not like it couldn’t get much worse at this point
“You’re the only one I’m thinking about.”
smooth Fíli, really smooth
you’re speechless but your eyes betray you
they’re filled with love and adoration
and Fíli’s heart fills with hope
maybe he didn’t screw it up that bad
his hand disappears in his pocket
here goes nothing
“I was going to wait until we were at the Lonely Mountain...”
he opens his hand for you and you see a blue and silver courting bead with intricate carvings
“But since we’re already married-”
you scoffed, but couldn’t help the wide grin on your face
“Would you do me the honor of braiding your hair?”
Told you it was an open ending... but we all know how this one would continue :)
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✩ ‧₊˚ ✩。BITE THE HAND — JACK ABBOT.
pairings: jack abbot x resident!reader
warnings: smut, hurt/comfort, angst, 18+ minors dni, age-gap implied-ish
summary: being casual with jack abbot was never going to be easy, and soon you realize that you've fallen for a man who's afraid of love
author's note: wow i went crazy writing this but this has been a week from hell so i made this to cope, hope you all enjoy! again, this is not proofread AND my requests are open
masterlist | read on ao3
wc: 5.4k
Jack Abbot was an enigma, a puzzle that you were desperate to solve. At first, you deluded yourself into thinking you could settle for pieces of him. That the stolen kisses, simmering looks, and dark rooms would be enough for you.
But it wasn't—of course it wasn't.
Because outside of the hospital, the list of people you saw consistently was small. And if you excluded the people you worked with, that left only one or two names. Somehow, Jack managed to snake his way to the top of the list.
It was the little things at first: asking you to get a drink after work. Slowly, but surely, it became a routine where you'd all meet in the park for a drink, and afterwards you and Jack continued the night at a nearby bar.
Then, it was walking you home after, lingering outside the front of your apartment building, and then your front door. It didn't take long for you to start inviting him in, offering a glass of water or a snack before he started his walk back. All these subtle moves felt like he was giving you the opportunity over and over again to turn him down.
You wouldn't because there wasn't a world where you said no to Jack Abbot.
There was a part of you that needed him, any part that he was willing to share.
So the first time he caged you between his arms against the wall, his breaths hard and heavy, you could've sworn your heart dropped into your stomach. Your legs turned into jelly, and if it wasn't for the wall's support, you absolutely would've slid to the ground.
"Are you sure?" He asked.
One last chance to say no, to save yourself from the rollercoaster seeing him would be.
"Yes," you said quietly, but not weakly. There was a beat, where the weight of your words hung in the air for the two of for the two of you to contend with.
And then his lips were on yours, and it felt like God himself was smiling down on you. Like the universe was finally rewarding you after every heartbreak, every sleepless night, every time you've ever felt unwanted. His hands found purchase in your hair, one sliding down to your waist and gripping it, pulling you closer to him in the process.
Your hands traveled up his neck, feeling the stubble on his jaws and cheek scrape against them as they cupped the sides of his face, bringing him impossibly closer to you. Your lips moved in sync, a dance that only you two knew, a rhythm that was in your blood. He pulled away slightly, staring at you through lidded eyes before dipping his head and sucking on your neck, biting that sweet spot just below your ear.
An involuntary moan slipped out before you could stop it, a sound that startled and embarrassed you, but seemed to only encourage Jack. He pressed his knee in-between your legs, spreading them apart so he could slot himself in between, his thigh pressing into your crotch.
"You like that?" He whispered, his voice low in your ear as you gripped his biceps, nails digging into them from the pressure. You nodded, your hips jerking and grinding down against his thigh. "Use your words for me."
"Keep going, please," the words tumbled out, leaving you breathless. Your hands went to the hem of his scrub top, fiddling with the hem before pulling it off him. He threw it somewhere behind him, not caring where it went.
For the first time since you've met him, you were seeing Jack come undone. He was finally losing that composure that he worked so hard to keep during all his shifts with you, finally letting you see the hold you've had on him for months now.
His hands dropped to the backs of your thighs before he whispered another command.
"Jump.
You jumped, wrapping your legs around his waist and arms around his neck. He walked backwards and turned, heading into deeper into your apartment about to cross a boundary he hadn't since meeting you.
"First door on the left," you directed him, before attacking his neck again in the same way he did you. You kissed up to his jaw before capturing his mouth into a kiss again.
The door creaked open distantly, and Jack walked you to the bed before gently lowering you onto the mattress, never breaking the kiss. His entire body moved to cover yours, his crotch grinding down against in yours in a way that made the both of you moan. You felt him undo the button to the long sleeve you were in, as you already changed out of your scrubs before leaving PTMC.
He leaned back, giving you the space to sit up and pull your shirt over your head. When you could see again, he was staring at you with a look in his eyes that you couldn't place. If it were anyone else, you would've felt self-conscious, but for some reason, with him you didn't. He reached out, brushing the strap on your shoulder and tracing down to your forearm, before looking back at you.
"Are you sure?" He asked again. Another chance, another way out. You answered by climbing into his lap, grinding down on him and kissing him deeply, your breaths becoming one. He leaned until his back hit the mattress, keeping you securely on top of him. You felt his arms go around you, his hands fiddling with the clasp of your bra until it finally snapped free and you shrugged it off. You dropped to the left, rolling him back on top of you while staying connected through a kiss.
He began to kiss down your chest, kissing over the swell of your breast and swirling your nipple in his mouth. A shudder ran through you at the contact, your back arching off the mattress slightly and he pulled you closer to him, giving each one equal attention. He continued his trail of kisses down your stomach, stopping just before the button of your jeans.
You made quick work of undoing the button and zipper, letting Jack slide both your pants and underwear off you, finally leaving you bare in front of him. He kissed down your inner thigh all the way to your folds, and you felt him rub against them with his hand.
"Already so wet for me," he mused, before sliding one, then two in, pumping slowly. You could feel his eyes on you the entire time, as if daring you to break eye contact first. Finally, he lowered himself to your clit, sucking and swirling as he worked his fingers in and out, the combination driving you over the edge. A coil began to tighten around your lower stomach, and as he quickened his pace and moved with brutal efficiency, you felt it snap and burst and a wave of ecstasy washed over you. He held you the entire way through, one hand wrapped around your thigh anchoring you to the bed.
When you finally came back down and stopped trembling, he rose from his knees and hovered over you again, a soft smile on his face. You reached out to touch his face, your thumb running over his lips as he lowered himself to you again, tasting yourself on his lips. You pulled away, leaning your forehead against his and breathing heavily as you undid the knot of his scrubs, helping him slide them off. He was in briefs, his bulge evident and throbbing as you cupped him them. He let out a low groan as one of your fingers hooked under the hem of the underwear, tugging at it slightly.
"I want it off," you said, and Jack obeyed. He stood, sliding down the briefs and his erection sprung free. He was hard already, precum beading at top and dripping down the side. You rose to your knees to meet him halfway, pulling him into a kiss as you wrapped your hand around him and pumped slowly.
He let out a breathy moan, one that went straight to your core. He was the first to pull away this time, leaning his forehead against yours as the two of you watched you work him slowly. When you moved to lower yourself he stopped, gripping onto your elbows.
"No?" You questioned, and he shook his head. He helped you back up before pushing you gently onto the bed again, moving to cover you with himself again.
"I'm all about you tonight," he said, positioning himself at your entrance. You felt the head prod against you, and you could've sworn you felt a shock. "Ready?"
"Yes."
He kissed you, this time sweet and soft in a way you would have never expected from him. When he finally sunk in you tensed, and he murmured encouraging words into your ear, telling you to relax and that he'd move slow. You listened, letting your body become more pliable as you moved with him, your bodies becoming one. After a few thrusts, he began to pick up the pace, lifting your thigh at an angle so he could get in deeper. When he started to hit that spot that always pushed you over the edge you gasped, throwing your arms around his neck pulling him down to you, your nails digging into his back.
"That's it, that's my girl," he said, continuing his brutal pace, "You're doing so good for me."
It was all too much, every feeling was overwhelming. You wanted more, you wanted all of him, you couldn't get enough. The coil began to tighten again, and this time when it snapped, you didn't hold back in the slightest. You muffled your cries with his shoulder, biting into it as you rode the wave of your second orgasm. His pace quickened until it peaked, his whole body shaking as you felt him reach his peak as well. When he came back down, his thrusts were sloppy until he finally pulled out.
He collapsed on the other side of you, both of you panting and not saying a word. You knew he'd be good, but you didn't expect it to be that good.
And that was the night that started it all, this push and pull between the two of you. Both of you had agreed to keep it private it from the rest of your coworkers, not wanting to be the newest piece of gossip that entertains them during the rare moments of peace in their shift. If Princess and Perlah caught a whiff of this, it'd be over.
"You're in a good mood today," Robby noted as you came out of a patients room after finishing your rounds.
"They finally fixed the leak in my apartment, today is a great day," you explained, giving him a half-truth. That leak was very annoying, and the drip-drip-drip sound was beginning to keep you up at night. Or at least it kept you up when Jack wasn't.
"Repairs always put a smile on my face too," he mused, "But never one that big."
He was gone before you could say anything, and you knitted your eyebrows in confusion. Everyone else behaved normally that day, except for Collins and Mohan, who eyed you a little suspiciously when the three of you had lunch in the lounge later that day. It wasn't until you overheard Princess and Perlah whispering behind you when you were doing a restock of supplies. When you turned to face them, they both stopped and simply smiled, waved, and disappeared immediately.
You got your answers when you cornered Whitaker on his way to make rounds.
"What do you know?"
"What?" He asked, looking more skittish than usual. His eyes scanned the surroundings, as if he was looking for an excuse to get out of this conversation. You blocked his path with your body, smiling in a way that was downright terrifying to him.
"Let me rephrase: what's everyone whispering about?"
He caved almost immediately.
"We're betting on you and Abbot," he rushed out. Your jaw dropped and you backed away, allowing him to take off before you could ask more questions.
How did anyone start to suspect? You wondered. It's not like the two of you were constantly together on shift. Hell, you rarely saw each other shift unless it was to congregate in a small group to chat before everything fell into chaos again. Your dynamic hadn't changed either: he was just as reserved with you as he was everyone else.
One time, you laughed at a joke he made along with everyone else, and out of reflex you touched his arm. As if you were a blazing fire, he immediately withdrew from you, clearing his throat and declaring that he needed to go catch up on charts. At the time, only Dana seemed to notice the way you retreated into yourself afterwards, and that you became slightly more withdrawn for the rest of the shift.
That incident led to another conversation between you and Jack, where you tried to force him to admit his feelings for you. Instead of admitting anything, he drew a boundary: that this needed to be casual, that you couldn't expect anything else from him. You were a bit taken aback at the time, but you didn't blame him. You had only been seeing each other for about three weeks at that point.
But now, it's been almost two months, and the lines are beginning to blur for you. He had slept over this morning, and was still in your bed when you left for the day shift. By now, he was probably awake and in your kitchen making breakfast.
Not very casual of you, you thought, walking back to the board to find a patient.
The breaking point for you didn't come for another week, when you were having an exceptionally terrible shift. You were a good doctor, in fact, you believed you would be great. But, having three patients code on you back to back is enough to make anyone feel like shit, especially when one of them was a long-time patient who you had known for a little over a year at this point.
You sat on the roof, legs dangling off the edge as you stared down at the busy street below. The cars whizzed by, but the pedestrians walked leisurely. It was nice to remind yourself that there was something out there, outside of PTMC, that made it all worth it. But recently, you had been struggling to remember what that thing is. It was hard for you to leave work at the door when you got home when it seemed to be your entire life. Truthfully, there was nothing for you outside of PTMC. All your friends were there.
Was that sad? Maybe. But you had never really minded that until right now, when you wanted nothing more than to take your mind off this shitty night.
"You're in my spot," a voice said from behind you, and your blood ran cold. He was the last person you wanted to speak to right now, especially not in this state.
"Go away," you grumbled, not turning to face him. His footsteps got closer, and you didn't have to look to know that his hands were in his pockets and he had a wide stance. Typical Jack.
"Well, I don't think I can do that. Not when you're half off the ledge. I'd be breaking my oath if I left you right now."
You rolled your eyes, but nonetheless, you got up to your feet, using the railing for support. You turned to face him, an irritated look on your face.
"Happy?"
"Ecstatic." The two of you stood there for a while, the railing separating you, daring the other to be the first to break the silence.
"Ellis said you were up here, tough shift for you," he explained, even though you didn't ask.
"Nice of her to notice," you mused. He chuckled, shifting his weight between both legs.
"It wasn't your—,"
"Fault? I know it wasn't, but it still feels that way. Besides, I don't want to talk about it."
Not with you, you added silently in your head.
"What do you want to talk about?"
"Nothing, I want you to go back inside and let me have my roof-time. Alone." He feigned being hurt, but he didn't move. Just stared at you in the intense way he always does.
You didn't look away.
"I'm sorry, have I upset you? If I did, I'm—,"
"What do you think?" He genuinely looked puzzled, and you sighed. Men, they never learn, do they? "What the hell are we doing here?"
"I'm lost," he deadpanned, and you let out an exasperated sigh.
"With us! What is going on? One day, you can't get enough of me and you look at me like I've hung the moon and stars. The next, you act like I killed your cat and made you watch. I can't keep bouncing between these two extremes, it's too confusing." Especially not when the two of you are laying in bed, not even having done anything, but he's holding you so tight it's as if he's scared you're gonna disappear the minute he let's go.
"Y/N," he began, getting that look of pity in his eyes that you've always hated. Like he's realizing for the first time in his life that his actions have consequences, and now he has to take responsibility for them, "I'm sorry. I can't, you know I can't."
He reached for you but you backed away from his touch, narrowing your eyes at him.
"I don't know anything, Jack, because you don't tell me anything. You hold me, and everyone else, at an arm's length. You never let me in. You don't let anyone in. I guess this is my fault, right? You told me casual, and I said yes, and then I was stupid enough to fall for you," you spat, each word making you angrier and angrier.
"You're not stupid," he insisted, stepping closer but careful not to let his arm brush yours as he gripped the railing, "I've never felt this way about someone before. Never."
"And what exactly am I supposed to do with that? Know that you think I'm good enough to fuck, but not date? Thanks, but no thanks."
"I'm not saying that--,"
"Then what are you saying?"
He opened his mouth, then closed it, scared of himself saying words he knew he wouldn't be able to take back. You scoffed, shaking your head and cursing under your breath.
"I don't want to do this anymore," you said finally, swinging yourself under the railing and popping out on the other side, "I hope you're happy."
You rarely spoke or saw Jack for the next couple of weeks, strategically signing up for shifts that had minimal overlap with him. If anyone noticed, no one outright said anything to you, but you wouldn't expect them to. On the bright side, there seemed to be a lot less whispering going on whenever you happened to be alone.
So much for that bet, huh?
In all honesty, you had been sad at first. Sad was generous--you were a wreck in the beginning. But you were certain to not ever let it show at work. Once you got to PTMC, you left your baggage at the door, just like everyone else. You were your same bubbly self, making the same jokes and jabs with McKay and Mohan as if it were any other day. You even still went to the park afterwards, only sometimes drinking a beer to let off steam. Jack would be there as well, watching you with an intensity you refused to acknowledge. Still, you didn't change your behavior towards him, treating him with the indifference you'd treat any other colleague.
Because that's what you were now: colleagues. Not even friends, because your friends would never treat you the way he did.
"Hey, instead of the park some of us were thinking of going to a dive bar after, you in?" Mateo asked, falling into step beside you as you both headed to triage.
"Who's coming?"
"The usual, some people on the night shift took the day off today so they might make an appearance. Ellis, Shen, Abbot--Walsh is a hit or miss though." Your heart stuttered at the mention of Jack's name, but you kept your composure.
"Sounds good, I might be a little late though I have to go home first." Mateo smiled and nodded just as you pushed through the double doors, immediately greeted by the chaos of an ER waiting room. You both called out the names of different patients, ushering them inside efficiently before letting the doors shut behind you.
"I'm surprised he's coming," Samira said, cracking open a cider and sitting on your couch as you finished getting ready. You decided to take a quick shower after your shift once someone threw up you--twice. You passed by your vanity and paused, considering putting some light makeup on. Then you remembered you had no way of taking it off as you ran out of makeup wipes earlier that day, and had no way of taking it off when you came back.
"Who's coming? Whitaker?" Samira laughed, sipping at her cider before continuing.
"You know who I'm talking about, Abbot's coming." Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion.
"Why would that be weird? Doesn't he always?"
"Definitely not on his day off, when he could be resting or doing whatever it is he does in his free time." You shrugged, opening your fridge to grab a cider for yourself.
"Well, it's not like I care. Or I guess I can't let myself care. He couldn't be what I needed him to, and I can't wait around hoping that one day he'll wake up and be the person I believe he is. I'm too accomplished to wait around on a guy like that," you popped the tab before adding, "You and I both are."
Samira cheered to that and you both took large swigs of the can. You squeezed your eyes shut and made a face, forgetting how tart the citrus flavor usually was. You spent the rest of your two-person pregame debriefing about work and fun cases you got, and also set a deadline for the two of you to start booking flights for Montreal--the vacation you guys were supposed to take two months ago.
Once you guys finished one can, you started the short walk to Ray's. Your apartment was much closer than Mohan's, which is why the two of you decided to meet up first and head over together. It was a Wednesday night, so it was mostly empty. There were a few random strangers playing pool in the corner, one of them catching your eye and lingering for a little too long.
"There they are!" Samira pointed to what you recognized to be the back of Mateo's head, leading the two of you over there. McKay was the first to notice you two, sliding over to make space for you on her side of the booth. On the other side of her sat Collins, Whitaker, and Santos. Across from you was Samira, followed by Mateo, Javadi, Robby, and Jack. You nodded hello at them all, careful not to linger on Jack for too long.
"So, what are we drinking?" you asked, pretending to skim the menu even though you ordered the same thing every time.
"Let's do a round of Bold Rock," Jack answered, putting his menu down and looking straight at you, "First round's on me." The weight of his stare did something funny to your throat, a reaction you weren't expecting to have.
"You know me so well," you teased, playing it cool and refusing to be anything but levelheaded. Samira glanced at you, gauging your reaction, but you just smiled before turning and jumping into conversation. The nine of you ended up getting three rounds, with Collins being the voice of reason to talk you guys out of a fourth round. You pouted, but knew it was for the best: nothing was worse than working a day shift hungover.
About two hours later, everyone remaining was ready to leave. Javadi, Whitaker, Samira, and Santos all left slightly earlier, claiming that they needed to catch the next train or else they'd have to walk. You slid out of the booth and headed towards the bathroom, proud of yourself for not peeing every other minute considering how much you drank. You splashed a bit of water on your face, hoping to wake and sober you up.
When you stepped out of the bathroom, you bumped into a hard mass. The stranger apologized, and when you looked up, you realized it was the guy from the pool table.
"I was hoping I'd run into you tonight," he mused, leaning against the wall and flashing you a dimpled smile. He was cute: the shirt he was wearing hugged his chest and biceps in a very flattering way, his hair curled and styled strategically to frame his face. But still, you didn't want him.
"Thanks, but no thanks," you replied, moving to step around him. He blocked your path with his body, boxing you in between him and the wall.
"Come on, that's no way to treat a friendly stranger, is it?" The politeness drained out of your body, not wanting to let him waste another second of your time.
"Move or I scream," you said flatly. You had done it a million times before, and you weren't afraid to keep doing it.
"What?" he asked, mildly amused by your antics. Before he had the chance to say anything sleazy, you opened your mouth and let out a shrill shriek, one that had him jumping back with his hands up as if to prove his innocence. "What the fuck is wrong with you?"
"I should be asking you that," you shoved past him, leaving the bathroom hallway to return to the main room of the bar. As you reached for the door, it swung open, revealing a panicked Jack, with the others close on his tail.
"Are you alright?" he asked, his breath beginning to even out now that he saw you in one piece.
"Peachy," you replied, stepping around him. He turned and followed you out, puzzled by your calm demeanor.
"Was that you screaming? What happened?" McKay asked immediately, Robby and Mateo flanking her on both sides. You shrugged, walking back to the booth to grab your purse and jacket.
"Nothing, just some asshole. They never seem to believe me when I say I'll scream," you laughed to yourself, reminiscing on all the times you had gone out with friends in college and came up with more and more absurd ways to get guys to stop flirting with you. "Seriously, I'm fine. But I'm getting tired now, so can we go please?"
Together, the group headed out of Ray's. Quickly, you all branched off, all of you living in different parts of Pittsburgh. Notably, Jack seemed to linger until it was just the two of you left.
"What are you doing?" you asked, knowing how this story went. How it seemed to always go.
"I'll walk you," he decided, starting in the direction of your apartment. It was easier to just follow him than waste your time arguing.
The walk back was silent, neither of you eager to be the first to speak. It was a comfortable silence, one that felt too familiar. You glanced over at Jack, but his eyes were trained on the sky as he looked deep in thought. When you rounded the corner and pulled up on your block, you half-expected his steps to slow, for him to watch from a distance as you entered the building.
But no, and just like he used to, he walked you all the way to the door.
"Can we talk?" he asked suddenly as you began to enter the gate code. Your hand dropped, not pressing the final key, and you turned to face him.
"Sure, let's talk." He looked past you, eyeing the door, then back at you.
"Do you want to go inside?"
"Nope, I'm good right here."
You needed to stand your ground. Besides, coming into your apartment was something you let friends do. Samira was a friend. McKay was a friend. Hell, even if Robby was a friend. But Jack lost that privilege.
He blew out a breath, taking his hands out of his pockets and looking up at you. In the entire time you've known him, this was the most vulnerable you've ever seen him look.
"I was scared of you," he admitted, "You were this brilliant, beautiful, bright thing in my life, and I felt like I didn't deserve you. You knew what you wanted and went for it, and I admired that about you. I still do. When we had that first conversation about what we were, I was in denial. I told myself that if we kept it casual, I wouldn't be at risk."
"At risk of what?"
"Losing you."
"Funny how that worked out," you mumbled grudgingly, still not entirely sure where he was going with this. Jack laughed quietly, looking down at his shoes, then back up at you with something shining in his eyes.
"Even now, you still don't falter. You are the strongest woman I have ever met, Y/N. You are also one of the smartest doctors I have ever worked beside, and you never failed to blow me away with every shift we worked together. "
Your breathing turned shallow, and you stood frozen on the doorstep. Jack took a few steps towards, stopping just before the first step.
"You scare me because I want to love you, and I don't know how. I have no idea how to be the man you want me to be, the one you deserve, the one you expect. I thought it was easier to give up altogether, but I was wrong, and I am so, deeply sorry for that Y/N. This past month without you made me realize how engrained in my life you were. I missed your texts, the way you'd always try new recipes that would fail and we'd have to order something for dinner, and how no matter what, you always showed up for the people depending on you. I think the world of you, Y/N, I really do. And I love you. I loved you during that first conversation, but just didn't know it. I loved you when I walked away from you on the roof, and I was scared of it. And I have loved and missed you every second since."
He paused briefly, searching your eyes for an answer. If it wasn't for the fact that you could hear your heart loudly thumping in your ears right now, you would've thought you'd died and gone to heaven.
"I want to be that man for you, Y/N, if you'll let me."
A moment passed, and then another, and another. You opened your mouth to speak, but the words died in your throat before you could get any out. So, you went for the next best thing.
You grabbed him by the collar and crashed your lips against his, one of your hands moving to the side of his neck and the other cradling his jaw. His hands snaked around your waist, somehow pulling you even closer. You were the one to pull away, resting your forehead against his.
"Yes," you answered, a little breathlessly at that. The corners of his mouth lifted, his hand going under your chin and tilting your head up so that he could look at you.
"Yes?" he repeated, still reeling from the shock of the moment. This time you nodded, and the smile spread like wildfire across his face. He pressed a kiss to your nose before wrapping an arm around your shoulder and guiding you both towards the front door.
"I'm not having sex with you tonight," you said, punching in the code to the door. Jack chuckled, pulling you in again.
"I wasn't expecting you too."
"Good. And you need to shower before getting in my bed, no outside clothes," you added, leading him down the hallway to your apartment.
"Wouldn't dream of it," he said, following you into your apartment once you unlocked it. He swung the door shut behind him as you kicked of your shoes.
"And I believe in second chances, but that's it. If you decide to pull away again, know--,"
"I won't," he reassured you, his fingers sliding into your belt loops and tugging you towards him, "I want you. Only you. All of you."
"I could get used to that," you thought aloud, earning a laugh from the both of you. You leaned into him, closing your eyes and basking in this moment that you thought would never happen.
-
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The Worst Kinda Day: Donnie Donahue x Reader (NSFW)
Tagging: @kmc1989
It’s been a day. The worst kinda day and somehow Donnie is still standing, still managing to put one foot in front of the other despite the exhaustion that envelops his bones when he enters into the apartment.
Gregory Porter plays from the Alexa in the bedroom, serenading him over the sound of running water from the shower you’re taking. He sheds his clothes with every step, his jacket, his t-shirt, his jeans until he’s standing gloriously naked on the opposite side of the glass listening to your perfectly pitched voice, the one he fell in love with before he even laid eyes on you.
It’s an age old story, man walks into a bar, falls in love with that first song.
Three years down the line he marries the singer and they live happily ever after.
That’s the way it’s supposed to go but his love story it nearly ended tonight because some asshole decided to shoot up Pittfest while you were on stage. He’s lucky you weren’t hurt, that you aren’t dead.
That’s the thought he takes into the shower with him after he removes his glasses.
How he can’t imagine a world without you in it.
You smile when he steps inside the wet room with you, the hot water soaking his aching muscles as he steps under the stream, his hands coming to rest on your waist, his mouth claiming yours.
There are no words in this moment only the intense want that comes with almost losing the one you love.
Your hand wraps around his cock guiding it to just the right place and he moans into your mouth as he breeches you, filling you slowly. Your fingers chase up his back, cupping the nape of his neck keeping him close and he pulls out and thrusts again, harder this time, faster. You bite his lower lip in response, signalling you’re in the mood to play a little rough and he gets the message loud and clear.
His palms rove over your skin as he drives into you. Grasping, squeezing, kneading all the right places until your tightening around his dick, gripping him so tight he sees stars as he comes in hot white spurts, pumping them deep.
“I was so fucking worried about you.” He whispers, his forehead coming to rest upon yours. “When people started flooding in I thought…”
He trails off unable to say anything else as your hands caress his shoulders, sweeping over the broad muscles.
“I’m ok.” You promise him, your thumb tracing over his bearded jaw. “Nothing happened to me, I’m right here.”
“I know, the whole thing just fucked me up a bit.” He admits, his mouth ghosting over yours. “It’s better now I’ve seen you for myself.”
“Well I think it’ll be even better once you get yourself onto that bed so I can use that massage oil on your shoulders, help you relieve a little tension…” You have that look in your eyes, the one that gets him hard all over again because the massaging always leads to slick hands somewhere else, to burying himself deep within that perfect pussy.
“Go get it warmed up.” He smiles, slapping your ass lightly as you reach for your towel. “I’ll be finished up in here in a sec.”
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Before I Knew [Masterlist] — Full Length Series
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A Jake Seresin unexpected pregnancy fic
Overview: On your first night after moving to San Diego to spend more time with your brother Bob, you unknowingly have a one night stand with his teammate Jake Seresin. For the first time in his whole life, Bob has a closely knit friend group and you’re desperate not to rock the boat. But an unexpected and unplanned pregnancy upends your world, forcing you and Jake closer together, against Bob’s wishes. What will happen when you find yourself actually falling for the father of your unborn child?
Pairing: Jake Seresin x Reader; Bob Floyd x Sister!Reader
Overview:
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Episode twenty five- “The Test”
Michael Robinavitch x wife reader x kids
Warning ⚠️: overwhelmed Micheal and mention of pregnancy
Tagging: @happyfox43
It all starts with Michael walking into the upstairs bathroom after his shower. He grabs a towel and notices something sitting on the counter — a pregnancy test. Used. Positive.
His blood runs cold.
His brain? Short-circuits.
Michael’s Inner Monologue:
Sawyer. It’s Sawyer. She’s seventeen. Jeremy. That little—
I will call the FBI. I will call the CDC. I will call NASA. Nobody is safe.
He storms downstairs, face pale, clutching the test in one hand like it's nuclear-grade material.
In the kitchen:
Y/N is flipping pancakes. Diana sips her coffee. Spencer is feeding Kojo bits of scrambled egg. Alex, now 9 and more sarcastic than ever, is doodling in his anatomy sketchbook. Sawyer is texting at the table, humming to herself.
Michael walks in like a storm cloud. “Whose is this?!”
Everyone turns.
Spencer drops her fork. “Oh no, Dad found drugs.”
Y/N blinks. “What are you talking about?”
Michael holds up the test. “This. This is what I’m talking about. Positive. Pregnant. Our daughter. Pregnant.”
Sawyer chokes on orange juice. “What?! Are you serious?!”
Alex mutters, “I knew Jeremy looked suspicious.”
Y/N, blinking slowly, finally speaks. “Michael… that’s mine.”
Everyone freezes.
Michael: “...What?”
Y/N, a little flustered, but smiling: “I was going to tell you tonight. I was late. Took a test this morning. I’m pregnant.”
Michael’s jaw unhinges.
Reactions:
Michael: “I—oh thank God. I mean—oh my God. We’re—again? Four? I need to sit down.”
Sawyer: “Dad thought I was pregnant? I’m seventeen. Disgusting.”
Alex: “So… a new baby? Do I get promoted to middle child plus rank?”
Spencer: (gasps, then dramatically slides her clipboard across the table) “I have to start a whole new chart. Baby Robinavitch IV. Expected arrival: TBD. Operation Stork Drop has begun.”
Kojo: whines and barks once like he's already prepping to be a baby’s furry guard again.
Diana: sips her coffee, unfazed. “You do realize I’m going to have to move into the guest room for three months again.”
Y/N walks over and wraps her arms around Michael’s waist. “You okay?”
Michael looks down at her, still stunned, still processing, but a slow smile creeps in. “I thought I was going to be a teenage grandfather. I’ll take sleepless nights and diapers over that any day.”
Spencer jumps up on a chair and announces: “FAMILY MEETING! Project: New Baby is live. We need schedules, names, and Kojo needs a second badge!”
18+ mdni (female reader who's implied to be younger. idk what this is y'all I just need Jack and Samira so bad)
thinking about Jack coming home from covering for someone on the day shift to find both his girls, you and Samira, making out on his bed. what gets him even more worked up? you two don't pay any attention to him, either because you haven't noticed him or you're truly just too focused on each other to care about anything else.
thinking about the obscene sounds of hungry lips exploring each other and desperate moaning filling out the bedroom as you and Samira grow needier for each other. the way the air slowly starts to feel heavier, becomes filled with your scent and hers mixing together with Jack's cologne. your hands roam all over her body as you can't help but start trailing kisses down her neck until you get to her collarbone. the lewd whine she lets out when you suck on her clavicle goes straight to Jack's cock and has you soaking your panties.
and Jack's a smart man, he's not gonna interrupt his girls and get in the way of perfection. instead, he opts for pulling his cock out of his boxers to fist it, slowly at first. he watches as you move on to Samira's naked chest, taking a nipple in your mouth while you twist the other with your fingers. he can see how much you're trying to take it easy, but he knows how much you love her tits. and just as he expected, Samira yelps as you resort to biting and sucking instead of the gentle suckling you'd been doing previously.
you release your girlfriend's abused nipple with a plop sound before looking at her. and it's like you two can just communicate through one look, because next thing he knows, Jack is watching you and her giggle like the two little brats you are.
"so, doctor Abbot, are you finally gonna join us or has old age finally caught up to your body?"
you don't have to ask him twice
Patchwork
Jack Abbott x F!Reader
[Plus Size!Reader friendly] [POC!Reader friendly]
Warnings: blood, injuries, vague (likely incorrect) medical talk, car crash, pining, Jack being self deprecating, whump, hurt comfort, a smidge of angst, fluff, uh I think that’s it? (Let me know if I missed any)
Word Count: 6k
Summary: Reader runs a small coffee shop a few blocks down from PTMC, after closing she brings any leftover pastries to the ED for the workers there.
Masterlist
"Are you sure you're fine finishing up here on your own?" Sadie's soft voice called out to you as she finished emptying the dustpan into the trashcan. "I really don't mind staying if you need me to."
The soft clicking of the pastry case sounded before you spoke, "Yep! All that's left to do is get these pastries packed up to drop off at the hospital and clean out the case." You reached forward into the glass case and began grabbing the various baked goods with your gloved hands, "and I'm more than capable of handling a few dozen danishes and scones on my own." Each sugar-dusted pastry you pulled from the case was carefully set inside a cardboard box resting on the counter to your right.
Sadie nodded and tied the trash bag up before hoisting it up behind her on her broad shoulders. "Alrighty! Well, I will see you Monday morning then!" She smiled at you and started walking toward the back of the café. "I'll drop this off out back and then head out—be safe walking home."
You smiled and nodded while placing the last of the cheese danishes into the box. "You too! G'night, Sadie!" You gently folded the lid of the box over itself and secured it, making sure it wouldn't pop open as you placed it inside the wheeled bag sitting on the floor.
Turning on your heel you walked to the counter along the back wall which was lined with various espresso machines and cups, a small cardboard box with a smiley face sticker on the lid sitting in front of them. Inside the box sat an half dozen apple turnovers you had made especially to bring with you to the hospital for a certain someone.
For the last five years you had managed to follow your dreams and open up a small coffee shop in your hometown of Pittsburgh. You’d saved for most of your working life in order to be able to afford a small spot down town—the spot in question having been a major fixer upper which was the only reason you had been able to afford it. So for months, you worked tirelessly along with your parents and a few friends until you were able to open up Street Brews. The first year was slow, but after a particularly good review on a local food blog, business had picked up and you had been able to hire a handful of employees.
For the last six months at the end of most days after closing, you packed up any leftover baked goods that hadn’t been bought and took them to the Pittsburgh Trauma Medical Center and gave them to the ED workers. The idea had come to you after a mass shooting took place at a music festival, while you hadn’t been there yourself you knew several people who had and saw the effect it had on the community. So, as a thank you to the doctors and nurses who had saved so many lives that day, you and your two employees who had been working that day closed the shop early and packed up all the food you had to take to the hospital.
Ever since then this had become a kind of routine for you, a few days out of the week whenever you were working until closing, you would pack up leftover food and take it with you to the Emergency Department. On days when you weren’t there for closing and were there for the opening shift, you would take coffee to drop off on your way home since the hospital was on your route.
Over the months you had gotten to know a lot of the people who worked in the ED, forming friendships with many of them outside of the walls of the hospital. You learned what some of the doctors liked and disliked and sometimes made sure to bring them any pastries you knew they preferred, a certain doctor had an affinity for the apple turnovers you had brought in a handful of times.
The doctor in question was Jack Abbott, one of the attending physicians who typically worked the night shift in the ED. He intrigued you from the moment you met him, the stoic face and friendly demeanor earning your interest and drawing you back to the hospital night after night with offerings of pastries in hand. Whenever you stopped by to drop off food, you found yourself scanning the brightly lit department looking for the head of tousled salt and pepper curls that belonged to the handsome man.
You wanted nothing more than to get to know him, learn what made him tick.
You would be lying to everyone, yourself included if you said you didn’t have a bit of a crush on the doctor.
Which is why you had made sure to make extra apple turnovers that morning in order to have some to bring in for him when you planned on making a bold move and asking him out to dinner or a cup of coffee sometime.
“Good luck with doctor hottie tonight boss!” Sadie pulled you back to the present and away from your thoughts of said doctor hottie, you waved goodbye to your friend and ignoring the knowing grin she aimed your way as she headed out the front door.
The bell above the door rang as it swung open and closed, the familiar sound ringing in your ears as you placed both of the boxes of pastries into wheeled bag ensuring they were safely tucked inside the carrier for the trip down the street.
The sound of the zipper echoed in the quiet space.
There was a dull ache in your back just behind your shoulders as you stood and grabbed your heavy patchwork cardigan, quickly throwing it over your shoulders. You knew it was from your terrible posture as you worked the register all day, no matter how many times you told yourself you wouldn’t slouch or hunch your back, you still found your shoulders slumping and your neck craning whenever you worked the register.
Now alone in the shop, you hurried to pull all of the trays out of the pastry case and get them washed so they could be loaded up with fresh baked goods when the opening shift came in. Soon enough you were finished and ready to head out, so you switched all of the lights off and pulled up the handle on your wheeled bag while swinging your purse onto your shoulder. The only light in the shop came from the setting sun which flowed in through the front window, it cast an orange glow on the floor in front of you as you pulled open the front door and the bell chimed.
The wheels of the bag rumbled against the cracked sidewalk as you began making your way in the direction of the hospital and your apartment.
Even though it was rather late in the evening, there was still plenty of traffic, the buzzing of traffic and honking of horns being a background noise you found comfort in as you walked. In the distance you could hear sirens, either from ambulances, police, or fire trucks you weren’t quite sure.
Up ahead was a cross walk where you would normally cross, the sign hanging on the opposite side of the street showing a red hand which signaled it wasn’t yet your turn to cross, so you came to a slow stop at the edge of the sidewalk and pulled your phone out of your pocket. You scrolled through social media as you waited for the ding which would signal for you to cross the street, absentmindedly liking and reposting pictures as you came across them and smiling to yourself at some.
A rhythmic chime sounded from the sign across the street, alerting you that it was now safe to cross, so without looking you stepped off the sidewalk and began moving across the street with your eyes still on your phone screen.
That had been your mistake.
With your attention on the device in your hand, you didn’t notice the car that ran a red light and was speeding down the road until it was far too late.
❦❧❦❧❦❧❦❧❦❧❦❦❧❦
“You’re here early, again.” Dana piped up from the nurses station in the middle of the room as Jack strolled into the ED with his bag slung over his shoulder, “that’s what? The third time this week?”
Jack glanced over toward the charge nurse who was giving him a knowing grin as he passed by.
“I have no idea what you’re talking about Dana.”
He knew exactly what she was talking about.
“Whatever you say Doc.”
Jack ignored her and continued his journey to the back of the ED where the lockers sat. He scanned the rooms as he passed looking to get any kind of read on how busy the shift would be. Once he reached the lockers he blindly put in the code, his body working on auto pilot as he put his things inside the small space. He swung his stethoscope around his neck letting it hang loose over his chest and blew out a long breath making his cheeks puff up.
Absentmindedly his eyes went to the watch around his left wrist, checking for the time.
It was nearly seven.
Against his will, the first thought that came to mind upon seeing the time, was the small coffee shop three blocks down that closed at six.
He wondered if you would be coming by today or not.
A small part of him hoped you were.
With a heavy sigh, jacks hand went up to grip the sides of his stethoscope and let his arms hang down as he walked back out into the Pitt to begin the night.
“Abbott! We’ve got a MVC coming in!” Dana called to him from in front of the ambulance bay doors, “one minute out!”
Jack closed his eyes and allowed himself a second of preparation but was pulled out of his mind by a pat on the arm.
“No rest for the wicked brother.” Robby shot him a tight smile and hurried off toward the automatic doors to wait on the incoming trauma.
Jack fell into step behind Robby and within a few seconds was pulling on a gown and gloves.
“What do we know?” He asked no one in particular while stepping to tie the back of Robby’s gown.
“Female, age unknown, struck while crossing the street by a car running a red light. Bystander called 911, said she was conscious but was unresponsive by the time responders arrived on scene.” Someone began relaying the information they had received from dispatch as Robby moved to tie Jack’s gown in the back.
“Are you sure you wanna stick around for this one?” Jack asked his friend, “Your shift’s nearly over.”
Robby shrugged and stared off in the direction of the ambulance sirens that were quickly approaching, “Not like I have anything else to do, so what’s one more patient?”
The flashing lights could be seen bouncing off of the buildings as the ambulance came into view.
Jack immediately started mentally cataloging all of the possible injuries that could be heading their way; head trauma, spinal injury, broken bones, internal bleeding, the list was long but he was prepared for nearly anything.
Nearly.
The one thing he was not prepared for was who would be on the gurney that was pulled out of the back of the ambulance.
The second the doors opened the EMTs were calling out vitals while moving to pull the gurney out, the doctors moving to begin assessing the patient.
All accept for Jack who stood frozen staring at the familiar patchwork cardigan he had been waiting to see since he arrived. Not like this though, not torn and covered in blood from the deep laceration on your head.
Five seconds.
That was all the time Jack allowed himself to freeze before jumping into action and moving to hurry inside along with the gurney, falling back on his training.
❦❧❦❧❦❧❦❧❦❧❦❦❧❦
“BP dropping!”
Doctors moved in perfect sync with one another, circling the gurney holding the motionless body of the woman Jack had been quietly yearning for. Some sick voice in the back of his head told him that this was the result of that small hint of attachment he had allowed himself to harbor for the kind woman. To him, it was the universes way of getting back at him for daring to think someone like him—someone with so many demons in his head and oceans of blood on his hands that would never wash clean—could ever deserve someone as sweet and caring as her.
His mind was shut off as he worked, his hands and body working entirely on instinct and training as they worked desperately to stabilize you alongside Robby and some of the med students.
He forced himself to send his mind elsewhere, to think of anything but the way you looked lying lifeless in that bed. The first thing he thought of was the moment he realized that he had allowed you to work your way into his heart.
It was a weekend, far later than any of your other visits to drop off baked goods to the Pitt, that was what piqued Jack’s interest.
He had been standing outside in the ambulance bay, getting some air after a tough loss. He wasn’t sure what had made him walk out there instead of to the roof, but looking back on it he was thankful for whatever it was. While he was standing outside staring up at the dark and starless sky watching his breath float up into the air, he had been so in his head at that moment that he hadn’t even heard you walking up behind him until you spoke.
“Dr Abbott!”
The voice pulled his eyes off of the sky and toward it, locking eyes with its owner.
Jack greeted you and put on a smile, shoving his hands into the pockets of his cargo pants, “Is everything alright? You’re here awfully late.” He quickly scanned your tired looking form for any injuries that could have brought you here at such a late hour.
His eyes lingered on that same chunky patchwork sweater you always wore before dropping to the small wheeled cart you pulled behind you.
You shook your head and moved a hand to rub along the back of your neck, “Oh, don’t worry nothings wrong!” You quickly assfumbling slightly over your words as you came to a stop in front of him, “I was testing out some new pastry recipes for the shop and needed some taste testers.”
The wheels of your cart rumbled against the smooth pavement as you pulled it between the two of you and reached for the zipper.
“I didn’t realize I was at the shop so late until I was done, so I figured I’d stop by and drop these off on my way home.” Inside the cart sat three boxes, each of which contained a different pastry that you had baked, “There’s apple turnovers, some toasted almond croissants, and brown butter chocolate chip cookies!” You stood and held out the boxes to Jack.
“Apple turnovers huh?” Jack’s lips turned up as he accepted the boxes from you, “how’d you know I love apples?”
Your eyes went wide, “I didn’t! I had no idea actually.” You looked anywhere but at him, “I swear I didn’t know that, the recipe was just in a book I got from my grandmother and I had really been wanting to try them out and I-“
“Take a breath.” Jack cut you off with a quiet chuckle, your frantic rambling dying on your tongue at the sound, “I’m only teasing. I do love apples though.”
Finally your eyes went to him, still avoiding his gaze as you watched him lift the lid of the box labeled ‘Apple’ with a smiley face scribbled next to it.
“Well, uh let me know what you think of those then! I’m hoping to add some of those to the menu I just need some feedback.” Your smile returned as you briefly met his eyes and then moved to zip the top of the bag back up, “I really need to get going though.”
Jack’s eyes shot back up, “You sure you don’t wanna come in and say hi to everyone? I’m sure they’d love to thank you for the treats.” He balanced the boxes in one hand while pointing over his shoulder toward the door with a thumb.
You quickly shook your head, “I’ve got a little boy who’s home alone and probably driving my neighbors insane since I’m late for his dinner.”
Jack’s eyebrows shot up as he opened his mouth to speak only to be immediately cut off by you yelling.
“He’s a cat! Oh my word he’s a cat!” Jack could practically see you panicking over your choice of words, he did his best to bite back a laugh, “I swear I do not have a human child at home not being fed oh my word.” You ran your palms over your face and groaned, “I’m not starving my cat either! He’s got a timer feeder, he just refuses to eat unless someone watches him. Gosh I could not have worded that any worse.”
A loud laugh broke you out of your embarrassed rambling.
You stared wide eyed at the usually stoic man in front of you, you had never seen him laugh like he currently was, it made you smile.
“I uh-“ You started, “are you okay, Dr Abbott?”
Jack was nearly doubling over from how hard he was laughing, his eyes squeezed shut which made his crowd feet stand out more.
You couldn’t take your eyes off of them.
Off of him.
“That-“ Jack started, his laughter dying down, “I haven’t had a laugh like that in a long time.” With one final shake of his chest from a breathy chuckle he straightened his posture and looked over at you, “I needed that.”
You shoved your hands into the pockets of your cardigan, “and *I* haven’t been that embarrassed in a long time.” You cringed, once again pulling your eyes away from his intense gaze.
The air between the two of you felt lighter, less loaded.
“You had better get home to that little boy.” He fixed his hold on the boxes in his arms, “I’m sure he misses his mamma.”
The bottom of your cardigan stretched down as you pushed your hands further into the pockets, “He most definitely does.” You pulled a hand out of your pocket and grabbed hold of the handle on the cart, “Again I am so sorry about my horrible, horrible wording there, Dr Abbott.”
“Just Jack, please. Dr Abbott makes me feel like you're one of my patients.” He shifted on his feet, suddenly feeling awkward in front of you, “Don’t take this the wrong way, but I hope you’re never one of my patients.”
“Me neither.”
Jack smiled a genuine smile at you, his eyes softening, “Be careful walking home alright?”
“I will, and make sure to let me know what you think of those turnovers yeah?”
“Yes ma’am.”
You hurried off down the side walk, teeth clamping down on the insides of your cheeks to stop the smile that was forming on your face as heat rose to the tips of your ears.
The next visit you made to the hospital bearing gifts, Jack was sure to tell you that he loved the apple turnovers.
They were added to the menu the next week.
❦❧❦❧❦❧❦❧❦❧❦❦❧❦
“She has a cat, make sure someone gets ahold of her emergency contact so they can go take care of him.” Jack muttered aloud as he watched the gurney holding your barely stable body was wheeled off toward the elevator, there was an OR ready and waiting for your arrival.
“You okay?”
Jack ignored Robby’s question and ripped his gown and gloves off, stepping over the smeared puddle of crimson on the white tiled floor. He chucked the bloodied objects into the bin and began moving toward the open glass doors of the trauma room.
“I’ll call them myself.” He didn't know who he was telling, Robby or himself.
“Abbott.” Robby spoke a bit louder this time, his footsteps following behind his colleague, “Jack!”
The only thing that halted Jack’s march to the nurses station was Robby’s hand clamping down on his arm to force him to stop.
“Are you alright?”
“Why wouldn’t I be?”
“Aside from the obvious?” Robby folded his arms over his chest and leaned back on his heels, “Your jaw has been clenched so hard for the last thirty minutes I’m surprised you haven’t cracked any teeth yet,”
Jack avoided Robby’s eyes, his gaze instead falling on the blood covering the floor in trauma one, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Then you shouldn’t have a problem being pulled off her case.”
Jack’s eyes snapped to Robby’s, “What?”
“You’re too close to this, too close to her. You know the rules.” Robby’s eyes softened, “You care for her, I know, and there’s nothing wrong with that but I can’t have you working on her with that in mind.”
Jack wanted to protest, to tell Robby that he was wrong and he had no idea what he was talking about.
But that would be a lie.
And they both knew it.
He cursed and turned away from Robby, one hand going up to rake through his hair.
“You’ve been coming in early for nearly every shift in the last three months, you come in to see her. I’ve seen how your mood changes when she comes in to drop off food,” Robby continued even as Jack walked away from him, “hell, I never see you in a better mood than when she’s been by. And I know it’s not because of any pastries.”
Jack stopped, hands balling into fists at his sides.
“Let me know when she’s out of surgery. Please.” His last word was quieter, barely a whisper.
He walked away.
“She’s in good hands, you know that.”
Jack stayed silent as he walked toward the nurses station.
“Take a break after you call.” Robby called after him, Jack’s only response was a thumbs up over his shoulder.
He already craved the cool wind on the roof.
❦❧❦❧❦❧❦❧❦❧❦❦❧❦
Everything hurt.
So much.
You couldn’t breathe.
You felt like you were being choked.
It felt like it took every muscle in your body just to muster up enough strength to open your eyes. Even barely cracking them open you couldn’t stand the dim lights that were shining down on you. You coughed, the sound garbled and strained as you began choking on something and hyperventilating.
There was an odd sound, like metal scraping against the floor, followed by a loud curse and then you felt hands on you.
Your eyes shot open all the way, panic beginning to take hold of your mind and body.
You only squinted for a second before locking eyes with the person standing beside you. A familiar head of salt and pepper curls, and brown eyes that were bouncing from your face to something off to the side.
There was a tube down your throat.
“Hey hey hey-“ Jack spoke slowly and calmly, his voice not quite matching the emotions reflected in his eyes as he spoke your name, “just take a slow breath for me, in through your nose. Can you do that?”
Pain bloomed throughout your chest and down your arm, you barely even noticed that your right arm was restrained by a sling through the panic and blinding pain you felt.
Jack’s hands went up to your shoulders, the one on your right side barely even touching you as he gently pushed you back down onto the pillows, “You’ve got a tube in your throat that’s been helping you breathe,” he leaned over you and made eye contact, “I know it’s scary and it doesn’t feel good but you need to calm down alright? Can you do that for me?”
Your breathing was rapid and you felt like your whole body was shaking.
Your eyes bounced around the dimly lit room, the white walls and fluorescent lighting bleeding in through the glass door. You were in the ED.
“You’re in the hospital, you were in an accident.” Jack leaned his head to the side to put himself in your line of sight, eyes locked on yours, “take another deep breath for me, Robby is on his way in and we’ll get this tube out.”
One of his hands moved, his thumb brushing across your cheek to gently wipe away something wet.
Were you crying?
There was a rapid beeping coming from something behind you, it was so loud.
“There we go, heart rate’s coming down, good job.”
You focused on the man in front of you as you tried your best to calm down, to push down the fear that was rushing through you.
The door to the room slid open and two people walked in, Robby and Perlah.
“Look who’s awake.” Robby said with a smile.
Jack spoke up and you squeezed your eyes shut, focusing in on the beeping that was gradually slowing down. It was your monitor, the rapid beeping was your heart rate, you were panicking thus your heart rate was through the roof and the monitor was alerting the doctors of that.
Dr Robby stepped into your view while Jack leaned out of it and away from the bed, you stopped him from moving away completely by shooting your hand out and grabbing onto his arm. He said nothing and moved back, slipping his hand into yours and squeezing it tight.
Perlah turned the lights up, you knew it was so th
Your head was pounding.
Robby said your name, pulling your attention toward him, “Can you hear me alright?” You nodded slowly, cringing at the feeling of the tube moving in your throat as you moved, “Okay that’s good. Now I see you’ve got a good strong grip on Dr Abbott’s hand there and that’s good, that’s exactly what we wanna see.” You were in too much pain to care that you were clinging desperately to his hand to ground yourself, “Now, can you follow my finger here with your eyes?”
Another nod, another cringe.
Robby held up his pointer finger and began moving it around in your line of sight
“Okay now just bear with me while I bring in a bright light so I can check your pupils, I’ll be quick.”
Robby stuck to his word and was as quick as he could be with the bright light, it still made you wince though. Robby nodded and said something to Perlah but you didn't quite catch what it was.
“What do you say we get this tube out of your throat?” Robby asked, pulling on a pair of gloves.
You looked over at him and nodded quickly, wincing at the harsh movement.
Jack stood and moved to begin helping Robby with the extubation but stopped short, you noticed a Robby give him a pointed glare.
“Just sit with her Jack, keep her calm while we do this.” You were thankful for Robby’s words, holding his hand was indeed helping you calm down.
Jack looked down at you and sat back in the chair pulled up beside your bed. You squeezed his hand again, this time involuntarily as you watched Robby and Perlah move around the bed.
“Are you in any pain?” Jack asked you, his thumb gently moving along the back of your hand.
You nodded quickly.
Jack nodded to Perlah who was already moving toward you to push pain meds through your IV.
Robby explained the process to you slowly, telling you each thing that would happen; they would lean the bed up a bit which might be a little uncomfortable, then make sure your air way was clear before having you take a deep breath so they could remove the tube when you exhaled.
“Feel free to squeeze Abbott’s hand as hard as you need to, he’s a tough boy he can take it.” Robby joked.
While you appreciated the attempt at lightening the mood, you didn’t laugh.
Even though Robby was only joking, you still squeezed Jack’s hand with what little strength you could muster as they pulled the tube from your throat. The second it was out you started coughing, the pain in your arm and chest flaring up as you leaned forward and coughed again, the rush of cool air into your dry mouth feeling nauseating and amazing all at once.
Jack moved away from the bed leaving your hand cold and clenching in on itself as you coughed and your breathing slowly evened out. Robby placed an oxygen mask over your face and spoke something to the Perlah who then excused herself from the room, dimming the lights on her way out.
You watched her disappear out into the busy ED.
Jack appeared at your side again with a small plastic cup of water, popping a bendy straw into the liquid, “Thirsty?” He questioned and looked down at you.
You nodded, “Yeah.” Your voice was hoarse and strained, but it felt good to talk again.
Robby worked silently at the computer as Jack lifted the mask from your face and held the straw up to your mouth.
“Drink it slowly alright? That way you don’t choke.”
Another nod.
The feeling of the water going down your dry, sore throat was quite possibly the best feeling you could think of in that moment. Jack had to pull the cup away from you to stop you from gulping down the entire cup in one go, you didn’t miss the slight upward twitch at the corner of his lips.
“How’re you feeling?” Jack set the cup on the small table that was pushed up against the wall.
You breathed in slowly, relishing in the feeling of not having a tube down your throat, “What-what happened?” You blinked and watched Jack carefully.
There was a silent conversation between the two doctors in the room before Robby excused himself.
Jack began speaking, “You were in an accident, from what we know a driver ran a red light and hit you while you in a crosswalk.” Jack shifted in the chair as he leaned forward and cautiously grabbed your hand again, his calloused fingers fidgeting with your own, “someone saw the whole thing and called 911, you were rushed here. You were unconscious when you arrived.”
It was only then that you fully realized the state of your body; your right arm was in a sling which was secured over your chest, you could feel a bandage on the side of your face and there was a horrible pain in your right hip that was only slightly dulled by the pain meds.
“My arm?” You cleared your throat after speaking, glancing back up at Jack.
“You had a broken collarbone, and a fractured ulna—which is this bone here on the outside of your arm.” He ran a finger along the outside of your good arm to show you which bone, “clavicle was fixed with surgery and a plate and so was the arm. On top of that, you’ve got a pretty sizable head lac, bruised kidney, bruised liver, some pretty bad blood loss from internal bleeding but that’s all under control now thanks to the surgical team. And your head should heal with minimal scarring thanks to plastics.”
You stared at him silently taking in all of the information, “that’s a lot,” you breathed, a sudden realization hitting you and causing you to move and start searching the bed, “My phone, I need my phone I need to call-“
“Hey, easy. Take it easy.” Jack stood again and once again moved to get you to sit still, clearly afraid that you would hurt yourself or bust your sutures, “Your emergency contact has been called and your phone and stuff are over here.” He gestured to a white plastic bag sitting on the floor in the corner of the room, a blue cord leading to your phone charging it, “Your little boy at home is being taken care of, don’t worry”
Stilling and settling back against the bed you watched jack carefully as he sat back down, “My little boy?”
“Your cat.”
Your lips turned up, “Yeah, I know.”
You laughed.
“You’re laughing, which is a good sign.” Jack smiled.
“You remembered my cat?”
He nodded, “Kinda hard to forget about the little boy after the conversation we had in the ambulance bay.”
You dropped your head back against the pillows and your hand came up to the bandage on the side of your head, “Is that my sweater?” Your eyes fell to the chair Jack was sitting, your sweater was folded over the side of the arm partially laying across his lap.
You could have swore you saw Jack’s cheeks turn pink, “Uh yeah it is.” He reached down and grabbed it before setting it on your lap, “You’re always wearing it and I figured it has some kind of special meaning to you, so I did my best to fix it up.” He turned the heavy knitted garment over to show the all but nonexistent blood stains and the rips that had been carefully stitched back up, “I’m no tailor, but I do know how to remove blood stains and stitch up a wound, besides I usually have a mending kit in my bag and I had a few too many free hours to kill today…”
With your good arm, you clutched the fabric right and ran your fingers over the stitches, tears welling up in your eyes as you stared down at it, “Dr Abbott…”
“Jack.”
You laughed, a hearty light laugh that hurt way too much but you didn’t care.
“What? The idea of me sewing that funny?”
Shaking your head you pulled your lips between your teeth for a second before speaking, “I was bringing you apple turnovers.” You leaned your head back and up, staring at the ceiling tiles, “I had a whole plan, rehearsed it with Sadie while we cleaned up after closing.”
“Rehearsed?” He blinked.
“I was going to ask if you wanted to get coffee sometime with an offering of apple turnovers.”
Jack froze, “Coffee with me?” The lines on his forehead deepened as his brows went up.
Another laugh from you, this time a nervous one, “I know, it’s stupid. Why would you wanna go out with me huh?”
“How ‘bout dinner?”
“What?”
“I mean after you’re discharged of course, there’s a new Italian place that opened up a few blocks away that I’ve been dying to try.”
“I guess I have something to look forward to when I get out of here huh?”
── ⟢ ・⸝⸝ Dr Dad
Pairing: Jack Abbot x Daughter!Reader
AN: This was requested by anon and I struggled towards the end but I hope y'all enjoy. Also, I wrote a second part to chocolate bars and injuries but hated it completly, so i'm gonna have to rewrite it.
Also also, I had an idea of a mortician!reader but idk who to pair it with, i was thinking Dr Shen but i'd love suggestions.
TW!!: drugging, implied attempted r@pe, assualt , regular medical misinformation
Synopsis: Jack Abbot's worst nightmare comes true when he daughter arrives in the ED unconscious.
Jack Abbot's brows furrowed in confusion as his call to his daughter went to voicemail for the fifth time that evening, something extremely out of the ordinary. It had been just him and his daughter for years, ever since his wife had passed away years ago and they had an extremely strong bond, constant texting with at least one phone call a day.
When you went to college, you stayed close by, choosing a college in the city so you could remain at home and commute daily despite your fathers protests. He wanted you to experience dorm life and the typical college experience but you were steadfast in your choice. You liked living at home, it meant you didn't have to have a roommate or share a bathroom and even though he'll deny it, your dad was a very decent cook and you loved sharing meals with him, whether it be something either of you cooked or a takeaway. Besides you had a solid group of friends on campus, occasionally staying at theirs if you had gone to a party or an event and it was too late to come back home, so it wasn't as if you were missing out.
Whenever Jack did work nights, you usually called to check up around nine p.m but when no call buzzed his phone, Jack became worried but he couldn't dwell on it as an emergency came through the door, occupying his time for a few hours. So when he tried to call you the next free moment he got and it rang unanswered until it reached your voicemail, a pit forms in his stomach.
"What's wrong?" Bridget, the night shift charge nurse asked, noticing Jack's expression.
Jack updates her with what has happened, "She hasn't called me and she's not answering her phone…this never happens."
"It's friday night, maybe she went out?" Bridget offers.
Jack shakes his head, "She would tell me, she always does and her friends have my number in case of emergencies, if she can't message me then they will."
Bridget gives him a comforting pat on his shoulder knowing how protective and how worried he gets about his doubt and no words she could say would ease his stress and the only person who could, is his daughter.
Then the phone goes off and Bridget answers it, taking the information with experienced ease before she hangs up and relays the information to everyone around, preparing them for the incoming patient.
"We've got a young woman, early twenties, found unconscious on the street with a head lac. ETA is three minutes."
Dr Shen looks over at Jack and notices how he's still worried about his daughter and so offers to take the new patient which Jack gratefully accepts before he seeks privacy by the lockers.
After another failed phone call to you, Jack is one press away from calling one of your friends when he hears Bridget yelling his name and he quickly returns to doctor mode and rushes over to her, snapping a pair of gloves on.
"What's wrong?" He asks.
"The new patient," Bridget is almost breathless, "It's your daughter. She's in South seven."
Jack is gone in a blink of an eye, stethoscope bouncing on his chest as he rushes to the room and bursting into the room with a bang, startling Dr Shen and the nurses but he pays them no attention as he makes his way to your bedside, gentle hands cradling your face.
"What the hell happened?" Jack looks around for answers.
"We've ordered scans and tests but the head lac seems straightforward enough, it'll need staples." Dr Shen informs him but it doesn't ease the weight on his chest.
"I'll get a rush on it" Jack nods as he reaches for the phone in the room.
Jack stewed in anger as he sat by your bedside, waiting for you to finally wake up. The results of the tests they sent for had him shaking in anger and demanding for the police.
You had been drugged.
All Jack could do is clench his jaw and fist as he waited for you to finally wake. He wanted the name of the person who had done this to his daughter and he became even more incensed when he realised that the legal punishment for this would never be enough.
Shuffling from your bed brings Jack out of his head and he stands up, leaning over the rail watching as you slowly wake up, blinking confusedly at your surroundings.
"Wha…"
Jack reaches over and takes your hand in his, "Hey honey, it's me. You're at the hospital but you're fine, you're safe here. I'm taking care of you, don't worry."
"...Dad?"
"Yeah it's me honey"
You grip your father's hand tightly as you try to arrange your scattered thoughts, "What happened? Why am I here?"
"That's what I want to know honey." Jack soothes you, "They found drugs in your system, they made you unconscious. Did you go out to a bar? Maybe someone spiked your drink? Are you not using those test strips I gave you?"
"I didn't go to the bar." You blinked at the rapid set of questions your dad threw at you, "I was at the library, someone from one of my classes asked to study together."
Jack's frown deepens, "What happened?"
"He came up to me after class and asked to study together-"
"And you agreed?! You can't just hang out with strangers." Jack's fierce overprotectiveness reared its head.
"It's finals week soon and this course is hard, having study partners isn't out of the ordinary" You huff at your dad, not liking the blaming tone.
"Honey, I've told you-"
"It's not my fault!" You snap, tears in your eyes, "He offered to grab us coffee and what did you expect me to do huh?"
"Oh fuck-" Jack closed his eyes, trying to calm himself, "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry, kid. Of course it wasn't your fault, I just want to find this fucker"
"How was I supposed to know?" You sob, your emotions hitting you all at once, "I wasn't planning on staying late, I told him that and he said he'll get me a coffee as a thank you. Once I felt the effects, I tried to leave but I was so dizzy, I think I fell somewhere, that's what gave me the head injury."
"He must have run once he saw you, but it's okay, the cops will be here soon and you can tell them when they arrive," Jack wipes your tears, "What's the guy's name?"
You furrow your brows as you try to remember the name, "Chris…Chris something. I can't remember but it's on my phone."
Your phone had been in your pocket when you had been found and placed with your clothes to the side after you had been changed into a hospital gown. Your father quickly passed it to you, watching closely as you unlocked it and brought up your text messages, quickly finding Chris' details.
"Chris Baker." Jack murmurs, reading the phone before turning to you and locking your phone, "You've gone through alot tonight, you should get some more rest."
You're reluctant to let go of his hand, squeezing tightly,"Can…can you stay?"
Dr Shen steps in at that moment, overhearing your question and before Jack can answer, he does.
"You can stay, we'll just yell when we need your help" Dr Shen laughs.
You laugh as well, easing Jack's worried frown but man still sends a glare at the younger doctor.
"You can't shirk your attending duties dad," You laugh again, taking a jab at your father, waving goodbye as Dr Shen left after noting your vitals.
"Alright," Jack presses a kiss to the top of your head, "Get some rest. I love you honey-bun."
You settle back into the hospital bed, eyes fluttering close "I love you too dad."
Free Fallin' (jack abbot x f!reader)
18+ account - minors do not interact
jack abbot x university proffesor f!reader Word Count: 4.4K Rating: E
Summary: On your birthday, your best friend convinces you to celebrate in a big way. The night takes a wild turn when you get a little too rowdy and accidentally fall off a bar table, ending up in the emergency room. There, you meet the charming and handsome Doctor Abbot.
Or simply…
You’re hot for your doctor. And he’s hot for you too.
Warning: reader is 30 (adjunct professor & PhD candidate), meet-cute, language, alcohol use, implied age gap (jack is however old you want), internal thoughts about aging as a woman, mentions of a mild injury, sexual tension, smutty thoughts, mutual pining, flirting, brief jealousy (jack is not amused), banter (i hope its witty enough), romcom vibes, fluff, implied smut
A/N: This came to me, and I just had to write it. Brainrot is real. Also, I am not a doctor, so I apologize if anything is medically inaccurate. Thank you Google for your support while I researched. Ok, running away now!
Jack Abbot Masterlist
You woke up with a sharp, pounding ache behind my eyes, the kind that made your head feel like it was in a vice. Blinking against the sterile white ceiling, you immediately noticed the dull throbbing that told you that you had definitely taken a fucking fall. Your whole body felt sore, and a faint, lingering dizziness made the edges of your vision wobble.
Beside you, your best friend Naomi sat in a chair, her shoulders hunched, her face streaked with tears and sniffles. She looked up as you stirred, her eyes glassy with relief and worry. "Thank God," she whispered, her voice trembling. "You’re awake."
You wanted to ask what happened, why you were here, but the pain in your head made the words come out muffled and fuzzy. She reached over, grasping my hand tightly. "You had a pretty bad fall," she explained softly. "You slipped off the bar table during karaoke, and you hit your head pretty hard. One moment you were belting out the chorus, and the next, you were sprawled on the floor, auditioning for a new role as a human pancake,"
Your lips twisted into a weak smile at the absurdity of the situation. The image of yourself flopping onto the floor during karaoke—hit you. The pain made your head hurt, but you couldn’t stop the giggle from spilling out.
It was coming back to you. You really took singing Free Fallin’ a bit too literally—literally falling off the bar table. So, lesson learned: next time don’t mix your fucking liquor.
Just then, a calm, reassuring voice interrupted. "Excuse me,"
It was a very handsome man.
He was painfully good looking.
He stepped into view, his eyes kind and professional.
"I know you might not remember me since you were going in and out of consciousness, but I’m Dr. Abbot, and I’m the doctor on your case. When you were brought in by ambulance, I was the one who examined you. You suffered some bleeding on your forehead from the fall, so I bandaged it up to stop the bleeding. You’re experiencing a mild concussion, but there’s no internal bleeding or serious brain injury."
As Dr. Abbot moved closer—you felt a 'ga-gunk' in your chest and thought it was probably just related to your lingering dizziness. He carefully adjusted the monitor at the foot of your bed, attaching the leads to your chest and checking your pulse at your wrist.
He glanced at the chart hanging beside your bed, his brow furrowing slightly as he noted your vitals—heart rate, blood pressure, oxygen levels—all within normal ranges. The soft beeping of the monitor was a steady backdrop to his calm voice as he explained each finding.
But your eyes kept drifting upward, drawn to the broad curve of his shoulders in his black scrubs. The way his sleeves stretched slightly over his biceps caught your attention, and you couldn’t help but notice the subtle tension and strength in his arms as he moved.
Your eyes lingered a little longer than intended, caught on the lines of muscle beneath the fabric, the way his forearms flexed as he reached to check your IV. You quickly looked away when he caught your gaze, feeling a burn creeping up your cheeks.
"Typically, patients with concussions are observed overnight, at least for 24 hours, to monitor for any worsening symptoms. Since you’re stable and your symptoms are manageable, we’ll keep you here for a few hours for observation, and then we can reassess. Do you have any questions?"
You hesitated, your tongue feeling heavy and awkward. The words caught in your throat, and instead of trying to speak, you simply shook your head, your eyes flickering downward as if the answer was written there instead.
"I’ll be back soon." He offered a gentle smile and stepped out of the room, leaving you alone with Naomi.
Naomi immediately perked up, her tear-streaked face softening as she watched you settle back into the pillows. Her eyes twinkled mischievously as she leaned closer and lowered her voice. "I overheard the nurses talking," she said, a smirk tugging at her lips. "They say Dr. Abbot’s single."
You rolled your eyes, pinching her, and Naomi chuckled softly, stretching her arms above her head.
"You should go home," you told her. "You look like shit."
She scoffed, stubborn as ever. "Fuck off," she shot back, but her eyes softened as she reached out, giving your hand a reassuring squeeze. "But seriously, I’m glad you’re okay."
"Thanks, girl. Go get some rest—you might need it more than I do right now."
"Happy Birthday!"
Your eyes drifted toward the clock on the wall. The minute hand had just reached the twelve—midnight. The second hand swept steadily, marking the moment when your birthday officially began.
You let out a dry chuckle, sarcasm curling around your words as you glanced at the clock. "Well, nothing screams celebration like a concussion and a hospital stay." Internally, though, your stomach clenched. Honestly, you’d been dreading this birthday—more than you cared to admit. There was something about turning 30 as a woman that felt... stressful. Sure, aging was a privilege—something to be grateful for—but lately, you’d been feeling scared about it. Thirty wasn’t old, not by any stretch, but it definitely didn’t feel young anymore. You weren’t in your 20s anymore, and that realization was going to take some getting used to.
Naomi leaned in for a quick hug. "I’ll check in later tonight. Or I guess it’s today now? But if you need anything—anything at all—just text me or call me."
"Thanks. Love you."
"Love you too. Rest up. You’ve got an entire new decade to conquer," she teased.
As the door swung open again, Dr. Abbot stepped in, a small tray in hand with a syringe and a couple of pill bottles. He set the tray down carefully on the bedside table and looked at you with a slight smile. "Just some more medication to help you with the pain," he said softly. "And to help you sleep and make sure you’re comfortable. To be safe, we’re going to keep you here for 24 hours for observation."
A strange wave of embarrassment washed over you at his words. The reality of your situation sank in—this wasn’t just a quick bump and a bandage; they wanted to monitor you overnight. The thought of being stuck in the hospital made you feel like a dumbass.
You blinked, then hesitated before speaking. "You know, I… I almost never drink,"
Dr. Abbot paused for a moment. "Oh?" he prompted softly, a slight arch of his brow as he prepared to hear what you had to say.
You shifted uncomfortably, feeling the heat rise in your face. "I feel like a fucking idiot," you admitted quickly, the words tumbling out before you could second-guess yourself. "I’m the boring one in my friend group. I’m an adjunct professor at Carnegie Mellon, while I complete my PhD dissertation, so I’m usually grading papers, preparing lectures, or doing research—you know? I’m not the type to get drunk on a Thursday night. I don’t really go out much. I’m usually the type to stay in, read a book, or binge-watch some murder mystery documentary."
You sighed, a little embarrassed now. "My best friend convinced me to throw a birthday party with my closest friends, even though I didn’t want to celebrate. I hate birthdays, honestly. Always have. But she said it was important and that I needed to let loose… and well, here we are." You looked down at your hands, feeling exposed and a bit vulnerable, wondering if your doctor thought you were pathetic.
He paused for a beat, then offered a gentle, reassuring smile. "You know," he began, trying to lighten the mood, "I don’t even remember my 30th birthday. The only thing I remember is waking up in a bathtub after what I can only assume was a pretty wild night. No idea how I got there. Next thing I knew, I had to go in for a shift—completely hungover. Shit happens."
You glanced up, surprised by his openness. His tone was easy, almost amused, as if sharing a little secret. He gave a small, deliberate nod and reached for the syringe on the tray. His eyes briefly flicked to your face, studying you with an almost clinical attentiveness, but beneath that, there was a subtle softness—an unspoken kindness that lingered in his gaze. He gently inserted the syringe into your IV port, administering the medication with careful steadiness. His fingers, though deliberate, brushed lightly against your wrist as he checked your veins.
"You mentioned you’re an adjunct. What do you teach?"
"Economics. Specifically, game theory."
A small, almost appreciative smile touched his lips. "Ah, game theory. That’s a fascinating field—complex, strategic, and very precise. I imagine your classes must be quite engaging. Do you find it challenging to keep your students interested with such abstract concepts?"
"It depends on the class, but I try to make it as interactive as possible," you said, forcing a smile. Inside, though, you were in pain, and you winced as you spoke, hoping he wouldn’t notice.
As Dr. Abbot finished administering the medication, he paused for a moment, his eyes lingering on yours with a subtle, almost inscrutable expression. He seemed to sense something was off.
"Game theory," he began softly, his voice smooth and deliberate, "is all about understanding the strategies of others—predicting their moves, and then choosing your own accordingly. Maybe I can apply that here." He tilted his head slightly. "In this hospital room, I suppose we're both playing a kind of game. You're trying to recover, and I’m trying to ensure you're safe. My goal is to make sure you're not in any pain, and yours—" he paused "—is to let me know if anything feels off.”
He leaned in just slightly, his tone still light but precise. "You could try to hide discomfort, acting as if everything’s fine—maybe bluffing to keep the game going. Or, you might be straightforward, signaling clearly if something's bothering you. But I’m watching for those signals—every subtle shift, every reaction." His eyes pierced into your soul. "I’m trying to read your moves—predicting whether you’re in pain or just playing it cool."
There was a brief pause before he continued, his voice soft but focused. "And I suppose I’m deciding whether to make a move now—maybe ask more directly—or wait and see if you reveal your hand." His beautiful eyes flicked over your face, measuring, attentive, as if probing for clues.
You started to feel the effects of the medication—your thoughts drifting, your senses slightly dulled, yet the way he looked at you made your heartbeat quicken. The combination of his words and the gentle sedation created a strange, intoxicating feeling.
Suddenly, with a breathless laugh, you blurted out, "You know... you’re really fucking handsome." The words tumbled out despite the pain you were trying to hide. The medication made your voice softer, your words more honest and unfiltered. You winced again, silently telling him you were in pain, your face betraying your attempt to keep up the act.
A flicker of surprise crossed his face for just a moment before he composed himself again, a subtle, knowing smirk forming, rubbing his scruff to hide his smile. "Well," he replied, voice steady and measured, as if he’d been waiting for that admission all along. "It seems you’re quite good at playing your hand."
As the medication’s gentle grip began to take hold, your eyelids grew heavier, the edges of your vision softening into a haze. The steady rhythm of the monitor seemed to lull you further into a drowsy state. Your head sank slightly into the pillow, and your breathing slowed, each inhale more relaxed than the last.
With a faint, breathless whisper, you managed to voice the question that had been lingering in your mind. "What’s your name?"
"Jack," he replied quietly.
You paused, savoring the sound of his name on your tongue, a soft, almost breathless repetition. "Jack," you echoed, the word slipping out with a tender, lingering tone before your eyelids fluttered shut, and the room gently faded into darkness.
The next morning, the hospital room was quiet but busy with the steady hum of activity outside your door. You woke slowly, the lingering fog of medication still dulling your senses, but feeling surprisingly clearer than the night before. Your body was less sore, and the pounding in your head had abated to a dull throb.
You waited a few hours before calling your parents, who lived in New York, because if you had reached out last night, they would have thought you were dying. You didn’t want them to worry, since they already didn’t love the fact that you lived in Pittsburg away from family.
After finally summoning the courage to call, you could hear your mother’s voice cracking when she spoke, trying to sound stable but failing. You could almost see her clutching the phone tightly. Meanwhile, your father’s voice burst with a flurry of questions—how you were feeling, what exactly happened, which hospital you were at, and what the doctors were saying. His tone was urgent, almost frantic, and you could tell he was weighing the options in his mind, close to booking a flight himself just to make sure you were okay.
You had to remind them both that it was just a concussion, that Naomi would be keeping a close eye on you, and that you were in good hands. You reassured them that you were doing fine, and that you would rest and follow the doctor’s instructions.
Still, you understood their worry—distance made everything worse.
Dr. Abbot—or Jack came in a few times throughout the day, each visit brief but impactful. He checked your vitals meticulously, his eyes flicking between the monitor and your face. Each time, he seemed to study you carefully as if trying to gauge how well you were really doing.
He was so attentive.
It was making you feel crazy inside. And horny.
You had to remind yourself he was just doing his job.
Your nurses, Dana and Princess, meanwhile, cast subtle glances in his direction when they thought you weren’t looking. You noticed the way they exchanged knowing looks, lips pressed into thin lines, or small smirks that seemed to carry some unspoken joke. Once or twice, you caught him with a slight blush when he thought you weren’t watching—an odd, almost humanizing detail that made him seem more approachable, more real.
You learned a few things about him—some through conversations with him, and others from the nurses. He told you he was a veteran and had been a combat medic. Princess mentioned that he’d volunteer and come in on his days off sometimes.
Dana even shared a story about him giving blood while actively treating patients, emphasizing that you had one of the best doctors on your case. It was clear he was dedicated, going above and beyond in ways that went beyond just doing his job.
Friends from your party last night trickled in over the course of the day—Naomi, of course, first and most persistent. She brought flowers, a card, and a bag of snacks. Other friends arrived in small groups, some cracking jokes, others just sitting quietly, holding your hand, or showing you embarrassing pictures and videos from last night.
At one point, you were sitting up a little with your close friend, Max. You’d been chatting lightly, everyone else had left at this point, when the door swung open again.
In stepped Jack, a serious but composed look on his face. His eyes immediately landed on you, then shifted toward Max, who was mid-laugh, clearly enjoying a joke you’d just told.
Jack’s eyes narrowed slightly as he took in the scene—your relaxed posture, the way this man was leaning toward you, his hand resting lightly on your shoulder. It wasn’t an overt gesture, but enough for Jack to notice.
"Visiting hours are over," Jack said curtly, voice even but with an unmistakable edge, as he stepped into the room and looked directly at Max. His tone was firm, controlled—more a command than a suggestion.
You glanced at the clock—there was still about an hour left before visiting hours officially ended, but you didn’t bother correcting him. Max looked at Jack with a hint of surprise, then nodded politely.
"See you later," Max leaned down and gave you a quick kiss on the cheek before stepping out of the room.
Jack’s sharp eyes lingered on Max for a moment longer until the door closed before turning to you. "Boyfriend?"
You let out a soft, amused laugh, shaking your head. "Oh my god. No, no. Just a buddy."
He blinked, clearing his throat, and then softly pulled a chair closer to the side of your bed. "In about an hour, you’re going to hit that 24-hour observation window. How are you feeling? Ready to sign some discharge papers, or do you think you might need a little more time here to rest?"
"Honestly, as lovely as this hospital stay has been—really, I’ve enjoyed the cocoon of this really sterile environment and the constant soundtrack of beeping monitors. But, I have to admit, I miss my bed. The king-size throne I call my own. Nothing beats the plush comfort of my mattress after a long day of pretending to be a responsible adult."
Jack raised an eyebrow, a smirk tugging at his lips. "Plush? Nothing beats the support of a good foam mattress. I mean, have you ever tried those memory foam wonders? They contour to your body, cradle you like a baby, and make you forget all your troubles."
You snorted. "Please. Foam beds are overrated. Give me a sturdy, springy mattress any day. Something that bounces back when I flop onto it, and doesn’t sink me into a deep abyss where I’ll never be found."
Jack chuckled softly, leaning back in his chair. "A bounce, huh? I’m more of a memory foam person myself. Plus, it’s scientifically proven to align your spine. You know, for healthy back support."
You rolled your eyes. "Support is overrated."
Jack grinned, crossing his arms. "Foam beds are like having a personal cloud that you can mold to your exact liking. Plus, no metal springs poking you in the middle of the night—unlike some of us who grew up sleeping on ancient mattresses that felt like a medieval torture device."
"Well, Dr. Abbot," you murmured softly, "maybe next time I need a little more support, I should find someone who can make sure I’m comfortable—preferably someone with a very gentle touch." Your gaze lingered on his, eyes flickering with a hint of invitation. "And I have a feeling you’d be pretty good at that."
His eyebrows lifted, and he gave you this look that clearly said he was surprised by your bold comment. Honestly, you were a little shocked yourself; maybe the drugs hadn’t fully worn off yet.
Fuck… why did you say that?
You could have sworn he was staring at your lips, but maybe you were just imagining it. He didn’t look like he was so much older than you that it would be out of the question for him to find you attractive, but enough that you knew he might think you were too young for him.
You shifted slightly in the bed, feeling the faint ache in your muscles as you prepared to sit up. You knew the moment had come to get yourself ready to leave. "Alright," you said softly, your voice a little hoarse. "I need to get changed before I sign the discharge papers."
Jack leaned forward slightly. "Take your time, I’ll bring those discharge papers for you."
You carefully swung your legs over the side of the bed and stood up slowly, making your way to the small bathroom in the corner of the room, closing the door behind you. You peeled off the hospital gown, feeling the cool air on your skin, and then slipped into your own clothes that Naomi had brought over for you earlier—comfortable jeans, a cozy sweater, and your favorite sneakers. Once dressed, you took a moment to compose yourself, steadying your breath.
When you stepped back into the room, Jack was standing near your bedside table and had set the discharge papers there. You grabbed the discharge papers from the bedside table, glancing over them briefly—your signature was required here, a few checkboxes, and some instructions.
You picked up the pen, your hand steady despite the lingering fatigue. With a few deliberate strokes, you signed your name.
"Who’s picking you up from the hospital?"
"Naomi."
Jack nodded.
You looked up at him, offering a small, tentative smile as you extended your hand. "It was nice to meet you, Dr. Abbot,"
He paused for a moment, studying your face before reaching out to take your hand in his. His grip was firm but gentle, and for a brief second, there was a flicker of something in the air. You could sense the shift—the way his eyes darkened slightly, the way the corners of his mouth twitched as if he was struggling to maintain his composure.
"Likewise," he replied, exhaling through his nose. "But you can call me Jack. You’re not my patient anymore."
The words hung in the air, heavy and charged, as if he was about to say more—maybe lean in, maybe close the distance between you with a kiss. You could sense the shift in the atmosphere—but just as that moment seemed inevitable, his pager chirped insistently from his belt, breaking the spell. The sound was intrusive, almost cruel as it echoed in the stillness of the room. You both jumped slightly, the surprise breaking the spell that had wrapped around you. His brow furrowed slightly as he glanced at the device, then looked back at you.
"I’m sorry," he said quickly, voice returning to a professional tone. "Something urgent just came up,"
You nodded slowly, trying to mask the disappointment that threatened to spill over. "No worries. Go save some lives,"
With a slight nod, he stepped back, giving you one last, lingering look before turning on his heel and heading out the door.
One Week Later
It was Friday, and your classroom was finally emptying out, students gathering their belongings, whispering excitedly or yawning as they headed toward the exits. Towards their weekends. The late afternoon sunlight spilled through the windows, and you leaned against the podium, watching the last of your students shuffle past, their chatter fading into the hallway.
One voice drifted over the murmur of footsteps.
"You know, I had the biggest crush on one of my professors back when I was in college."
You turned slightly, catching a glimpse of a figure leaning casually against the back wall, a familiar, easy smile on his face. It was Dr. Abbot—Jack—standing there with a relaxed posture.
Your heart still skipped a beat.
But you decided to play it cool. And not show your hand quite yet.
You raised an eyebrow, a playful smirk tugging at your lips. "What class did your professor teach?"
One corner of his mouth lifted. "Anatomy,"
Your mouth suddenly felt dry, and your mind went directly to the gutter.
Stepping forward, you called out casually, "Dr. Abbot."
He looked over at you, eyes crinkling when his smile widened as he pushed off the wall and approached you.
"Call me Jack," he reminded you, voice even, no nonsense.
"Right. Jack," you repeated, chewing on the inside of your cheek.
He gently lifted his hand and reached out to touch your forehead, "This okay?"
You nodded.
His touch was reassuring yet delicate. It felt intimate in a way that went beyond medical concern. You closed your eyes as he shifted into doctor mode, asking you quick questions, and how you’d been feeling. Despite the clinical tone, you couldn’t help but feel a pang in your heart at the tender way he looked at you and asked about your recovery. After a moment, he slowly withdrew his hand, letting it fall to his side and slipping his hands into his pockets.
"I hope I’m not overstepping," he hesitated slightly, then offered a nervous chuckle. "With just your name, Google made it pretty easy to find out what days and times you teach on campus when I found your syllabus online." His smile was genuine, but there was a gentle caution in his tone—like he meant no harm and didn’t want to push any boundaries. He paused for a moment before adding, "And I have to say, your rating on RateMyProfessor is stellar. Clearly, students think very highly of you."
You felt the heat creep onto your cheeks at the compliment.
"Well, Jack," you said with a playful tone, "I’m glad to know my privacy is so easily compromised. Maybe I should just start handing out my home address next." Your eyes twinkled with amusement, clearly teasing him.
"Or maybe," he said softly, a smirk tugging at his lips, "you should just hand out your phone number next. So, that I can take you out to dinner."
The grin that stretched across your face was massive.
There was just something about him.
Normally, making the first move wasn’t something you would do. But right now, you didn’t care. You hooked your fingers into the collar of his Henley and tugged him forward, pressing your lips to his. He hesitated for a beat, not reacting right away. Jack’s expression was unreadable. Then, slowly, he brought his lips back to yours, a deep guttural groan escaping him as he finally responded. Your tongue traced over his lower lip, and he took that as an invitation to intensify the kiss. Your fingers tangled in his hair, and he cupped your face with his hands as the kiss grew hotter and more frantic.
By the third date, you discovered that his bed really was as comfortable as he claimed.
Maybe foam beds weren’t so bad after all.
dividers by @saradika-graphics
NPT (folks who interacted with Jealous): @abbotjack. @takingitdaybyday-1. @houseofodd. @midniqhtt. @letsgobarbs. @chixkencxrry. @akgirl1993. @roses-and-grasses. @hansfics. @strange-hyperfixations. @la-vie-est-une-fleur29. @ozarkthedog. @stellamarielu. @emmalyn2233
Thank you so much for reading! If you like this, please consider leaving a comment or reblogging thots.
some of my favorite shawn hatosy tweets about his wife and why i refuse to settle for any less
my heart
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