Kildare Nights. Undecided Pairing X Fem!reader

── ⟢ ・⸝⸝ 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."

Twenty-year-old Y/N returns to the ruins of District 12, seeking something—anything—of the life she lost. Grieving, self-contained, and carrying the weight of a brutal past, she finds herself quietly drawn into the lives of Katniss, Peeta, and Haymitch. As unexpected friendships form and long-buried parts of herself begin to resurface, Y/N starts to wonder if it’s still possible for something soft to survive the wreckage.

Pairing(s): Haymitch Abernathy x Female!Reader (romantic), Katniss Everdeen x Female!Reader (platonic), Peeta Mellark x Female!Reader (platonic)

Warnings: themes of grief, past emotional and verbal abuse from a parent, past self-harm (cutting), past alcoholism (Y/N) / ongoing alcoholism (Haymitch), references to non-consensual sexual experiences (no explicit scenes), PTSD, mental health struggles, age gap romance between adults (20s and 40s), eventual suggestive scenes, death, descriptions of death/gore, mentions of bombing, descriptions of district 12 after the bombing, might be slightly divergent from canon, peeta was not hijacked

All heavy topics are treated with care, but reader discretion is advised.

this is basically just a suuuuper long slow burn friends to lovers. Y/N’s backstory is very detailed but i have not and will not describe her appearance. the first 5 or 6 chapters are basically just providing Y/N’s background and building a foundation for the rest of the story.

Shadows of the Past - Six months after the Second Rebellion, you return to the ruins of District 12. Haunted by memories and loss, you wander through the wreckage—until a flicker of light draws you toward something, or someone, unexpected.

Fragments of Home - In the unfamiliar stillness of Victor’s Village, you find yourself cared for by an old friend and a stranger. As wounds are tended to, new connections begin to take root—quiet, cautious, and strange in their kindness.

The Space Between - You move through the stillness of what remains, caught between memory and reality. In the space left by loss, something quieter begins to grow—unspoken understanding, and the first fragile steps toward connection.

The Club - A nightmare drives you outside in the dead of night—and you’re not the only one who couldn’t sleep. An unexpected conversation beneath the stars begins to chip away at the walls you’ve built.

The Quiet Shift - You wake to a new day and begin to settle into your new reality. A simple visit turns into something more, as laughter and conversation spark the beginnings of something long forgotten: friendship.

Porchlight - Three months into your return, you’ve slipped into a quiet routine—baking with Peeta, trading late-night banter with Haymitch. But comfort doesn’t come easy, and even the smallest moments of ease shine like a porchlight in the dark.

The Shape of Warmth - You spend the day with Katniss, Peeta, and Haymitch—what begins with a truth leads into something softer, steadier. Something that feels almost like belonging.

more to come! :)

peaky blinders

(mainly shelby!sis but a few aren’t)

4 Brothers and a Wedding

A Death On Christmas Eve

A Little Fall of Rain

Ada

Big Brother

Big Sister, part 2

Biscuits

Blind Affection

Bonnie In Love

Breaking In

Candles

Catch Me? Always

Cluedo

Cold

Cousins

Creepy Painting

Damsel Doing Damage

Dance

Dear Mother

Death

Don’t Cry For Me

Drink and Love

Drunken Kissing

Ears Everywhere

Eighteen

Eldest Shelby, part 2

Eyebrows

F*cking Hell

Family

Feeling Ill

Fire in the Hole

First Kill

First Month

Florence Nightingale 

Flowers

Fox in the Snow

From Birth to Death

Garden Girl

Give Me Away

Go Traveling

Grey Lady

Havoc

Heroes and Villains

Hi, Bi

Home

Horse Racing

Hung, Part 2, Part 3

I Have You

I Love You

I’m Done

I’m Done, Part 2

I’ve Got You, part 2, part 3, part 4, part 5, part 6, part 7 

Idiots, part 2

In the Bleak Midwinter

It Isn’t Your Fault

John

Killer Sister

Late

Life

Listening

Love Shouldn’t Hurt This Much

Low

Maternal Instinct

Metaphorically or Physically

Missing

My Baby

New Year’s Eve

No. Six

O’Christmas Tree

OBE, DCM, MM, MP

Overdosed

Part 2 to something apparently

Photograph

Photos

Play Nice

Please Be Proud

Pressed Flowers

Prove Yourself

Runaways, part 2, part 3

Sarcasm, Part 2

Scavenger

School of Art

Sent Home

Sexy and Free

Shelby Ladies

Shot

Sibling Pain

Siblings

Sixth Sense

Snowballed

Soft Hair

Stand Up For Yourself

Stop Loving You

Swan Lake

Tantrum

The Girl With the Tattoo’s

The Grey’s

The Letters

Tired

Titanic

Trapped

Tree

Wait for Me

We’re Twins

Wedding Day

Wedding Surprise

When You Are Young

Where’s Your Shoe?

Wild Night Out

Women

You’re Allowed to Not Be Ok

Young and in Love

The Abbot Family - Pittfest Part 1

Pairing: Dr Jack Abbot x Wife!Reader (romantic) Genre: Word Count: 454

Warnings: Canon typical blood/gore/violence, hospital show drama, mass shooting, death, gun shot wounds, *Please let me know if I forgot anything

Summary: When he is at work, Dr Abbot keeps his life private, and keeps his head focused on being an attending of the Pittsburg Trauma Medical Center. No one knows what he does at home, until Pittfest happens.

Disclaimer: I don't own anything, this story is inspired by the TV show The Pitt and features places, plots, characters from said show.

Jack knew he had to keep working, he had to keep going. People needed him, he couldn’t be staring at his phone waiting for a phone call that may change his whole life. After his time in the army, and growing up with the dad he did, Jack knew when to compartmentalize his emotions, when to stop feeling and just do. The Pitt needed him to keep it together, patients needed him, Robby needed him, but the more pressing matter that kept him running the makeshift MASH unit was the thought: “What if?”

He shut that down before his anxiety could spike.

He moved from patient to patient, helping anyone he could, and calling times of those that he couldn’t. He saw out of the corner of his eyes Jake Malloy, and had to stop himself from running over and interrogating the boy.

“Robby asked if I could keep an eye on Jake and his girlfriend.”

When time of death was called for Leah, Jack had to remember that sometimes no news was good news. So, he kept going.

Until Dana yelled his name.

The doctor turned, pit forming in his stomach as he knew she would only be yelling at him two things: Robby and-

“Dad!” A teenage version of Jack was supporting the weight of his sister.

“Austin! Avery!” The attending’s place was taken before he could think about ordering someone to take over. Several heads had looked up when they heard their leader’s voice, and stared a moment too long when he ran to the two teenagers. Jack’s hands and eyes were looking over them both, trying to figure out where the blood was coming from, if one of them was shot.

“Some asshole pushed Avery down. Mom reset Avery’s shoulder and leg, but told us to come here.”

“Language.” Jack muttered, his heart breathed when he heard that it was just some asshole who pushed a child to the ground to escape rather than aiding the child, but his heart froze when Austin mentioned her. “Where is your mother?” Austin and Avery shared a look which never boded well for the Abbot parents. Every time that any of the children shared a look, it meant trouble. “I’m not going to ask again.”

“She sent us ahead.” Austin dug the car keys out of his pocket and handed them to his father. “She stayed behind.”

Before Jack could say anything, Avery cut in. “Daddy, it hurts.” His daughter might be in high school now, but seeing her in pain with broken bones only brought the memories of her breaking her wrist at seven when she jumped off the trampoline. That was probably the last year before she transitioned from 'daddy' to 'dad' and sometimes 'father' when he had to ground her.

“I know, sweetheart.” Her watery hazel eyes were enough to make him keep moving.

Rescue me, I want your tender charm!

pairing: dbf!dr. jack abbott x fem!reader

word count: 6.5k

contains: 18+ SMUT MDNI, fem!reader, phone sex, masturbation, no use of y/n, dirty talk, age-gap, reader is in her early to mid 20s and jack is…how old he is…, two for one: dad’s best friend & best friend’s dad, no jake, probable medical inaccuracies, reader getting drugged, secret relationship, drug & alcohol consumption, no langdon addiction arc, heavy angst, & use of medical jargon.

author’s note: writing for this show wasn’t on my bingo card, but here we are! i need this man with my whole being and i’m so serious. i would also like to clarify that you did not grow up knowing abbott or his daughter. you met them in the last year or so, while finishing up your bachelor's degree and starting on your master's. also, before reading, please heed all the warnings above, as this fic is meant to be read with care. read at your own discretion.

Jack always takes such good care of his girl...

"Jack," you narrow your eyes, a smile breaking your serious facade. "I'm serious."

"So am I," he defends, hand over his heart, a cheeky smile spreading across his lips before twirling a finger in the air. "Turn around."

You roll your eyes playfully, twirling where you stand as your dress twirls with you. The fabric rides only slightly up on the back of your thighs, which has him groaning in the bed where he lays naked, only the comforter giving him a shred of decency. 

"You're gonna give all the college boys whiplash, sweetheart," he chimes with a gruff laugh.

"Too bad for them because I have a boyfriend," you wink, picking up your dress so it pools around your waist as you crawl over to him on the bed to straddle his lap.

His hands move to grip your thighs, massaging them lightly. "Mhm," he hums softly, leaning forward and kissing your lips softly.

"You smell like sex," you randomly murmur against his lips.

"Well, funny enough, I did just have sex, so that checks out," he jests, hands moving up and down your thighs with ease.

"Oh. Did you now? I had no idea," you press your lips back to his, hand moving to rest on his cheek. You nip his lip lightly as your hands skim down his chest and torso to hover over the blanket that covers his naked lap. 

"Insatiable, you are," he mutters against your lips; his words come out breathless. 

You let out a dry laugh as his hands grip your waist tightly, and his head dips into the crook of your neck. "You know, your dad would throw a shit fit if he knew where you were right now," his warm breath flutters across your skin. 

You let out a hushed moan as his teeth come out to nip the sensitive flesh. "Well then...we best keep it a secret then. Huh?" You simply say, hand skimming his bare chest.

"You know whatever consumes your mind will eventually bleed into the real world?" He asks, hands skimming up your hips. Then he tilts his head away from your neck to look into your eyes. 

You quip your brow in confusion.

"Law of attraction," he shrugs simply.

You roll your eyes, groaning as you push him away. "God. You sound like my philosophy professor," you huff, shoulders hunching in defeat.

He lets out a rough laugh. "Is that a good thing?"

"An irritating thing," you inform, your voice tinged with exasperation. "He's such a dick."

"Want me to fight him?" He jokes, his fingers playfully tugging at the hem of your dress, a mischievous glint in his eyes. 

You contemplate for a moment. "Ask me that after mid-terms."

He smiles, head leaning back to rest on the headboard. "You know, I've always wondered, why philosophy? Could have done EM? You're smart enough for it." His curiosity is genuine, and it warms you.

"Hell no to EM. I'd rather take a bullet to the head," you laugh before realizing he quite literally works in EM. "No offense."

"Some taken, yeah," he nods with a light smile to show he's joking.

You give him a smile before your brain starts turning. "Philosophy…it's...I don't know…grounding," you utter, avoiding his gaze. "Do I sound like an idiot?" You question with a small laugh, eyes finally moving to his. 

"No. Of course you don't," he assures, shaking his head. "I get it. I took a philosophy course in med school," he recalls with a hint of nostalgia in his smile. "My attending at the time all but forced me in the class. Said it would help me understand death," he supplies. 

"Did you like it?" You ask, tilting your head to the side as you fidget with his fingers resting on the bed.

He nods. "Yeah, I did," he replies, his gaze meeting yours. "It helped me understand morality, which is a miracle in itself.” His eyes then drop to the mattress, lost in thought.

"You know, speaking of that," you say as you shuffle off his lap, to his dismay, searching for your laptop. "I have to write a dissertation on a case study about the ethical implications of fabrications." You swipe your laptop from your bag and sit back on the edge of the bed on his side. 

"You can help me with it," you decided, fingers gliding across the keyboard.

He lets out a dry laugh. "Why am I going to help you with your homework?

You turn to look at him. "Because you're smart."

"Sorry, sweetheart," he begins, resting his head on the headboard. "I already did my time."

You roll your eyes playfully, returning to the laptop and tapping the keys to go to the case study. "Yeah. Like forty years ago," you snicker under your breath.

"Oh. Now I'm definitely not helping you," he says, with mock hurt.

You turn to him again, your expression softening. "Sorry…" you chew on your lip, setting your laptop aside to move back towards him. "I'm a dick," you murmur, legs once again straddling his lap.

"Happens to the best of us," he presses a kiss to your lips. 

"I find it hard to believe you can be a dick. You're always so sweet," your hand rests on the back of his neck, fingers dragging up and down softly.

"To you," he closes his eyes softly as your fingers delicately move against his skin. "Just to you."

The ER isn't as bustling and noisy as it usually is when you stroll in the following day.

It's almost...quiet.

Too quiet.

"Hotshot strollin' in, and it's not even eight am?" Langdon chimes from behind the triage desk. "Someone's in trouble," he jokes, crossing his arms over his chest. 

You give him a smile. "You know me too well, Frank."

He nods his head towards you, a playful glint in his eye. "What did the old man do this time?" He prompts with humor in his tone. "Missed a brunch? Sold your favorite childhood toy?"

You shake your head, moving to lean on the desk. "Oh, much worse," you say as Langdon quips a curious brow. "He's dipping out of our annual family vacation."

"Yikes…" He cringes before tilting his head in thought. "But that sounds like you have an empty seat," he comments, a mischievous glint in his eye. "Where are we going? The tropics? I've been meaning to work on my surfing techniques," he adds, bringing his hands up to pretend to surf, a playful smirk on his face.

You let out a chuckle. "Funny, but not a chance, loser," you breathe out, crossing your arms over your chest. "If I were to take anyone else, it would be your wife," you affirm, a teasing glint in your eye. 

"Right. Sorry," he reaches for a clipboard off the desk next to him, scanning it quickly. "I forgot you love Abby more than me," he gives you a short smile.

"Did you really forget though?" You tilt your head, voice pitiful. "I thought I made it painfully obvious," you say as he gives you a fake laugh, skimming around the corner of the desk to go to a patient's room. 

"Dana," you greet, swiveling your attention to her sitting at the desk, only half paying attention.

"With a patient, south side, room 15," she immediately says, scribbling on some paper.

"Oh. You know I love you," you tap on the desk, blowing her a playful kiss before turning on your heels, a warm smile on your face.

"Give him hell, kid," she mutters, eyes still focused on the paperwork.

You find the room and see your dad and some medical residents huddled up with a patient.

That does nothing to deter your stride.

You cross across the hall, opening the door open.

"What's this about you missing the family vacation?" You chime, eyes on your dad.

Dr. Robby turns to you, his shoulders sagging at your presence as if he already knew what would happen. "Oh, what a joy," he mutters, wiping his face. "Honey, I'm kind of with a patient right now," he expresses, voice low.

"Good, he can hear how ridiculous you're being," you retort, your lips pursed in frustration. "Mom told me you aren't coming on the trip anymore," you accuse again.

"Um…Dr. Robby, do you want us to call security?" Javadi asks timidly. 

"Security?" You repeat with a laugh.

"No, Javadi," he begins with a sigh. "Unfortunately for us, that's my kin," he exhales before fixing his stethoscope. "Whitaker, get 40 milligrams of prednisone. Javadi, get the pulmonologist down here to do a breathing treatment," he orders, snapping his plastic gloves off and tossing them in the trash as he walks over to you, gesturing for you to step outside. "I'll be just outside if you need me," he assures, with a hint of humor. "Call the cops if you don't hear from me in fifteen," he jokes, following you out, trying to lighten the tense situation.

"You're in trouble," you point your finger at him when you enter the hall. "You promised you would go," you exasperate, hands on your hip.

He sighs, his hand wiping over his face. "I know. I'm sorry, but we don't have anyone to cover for me. I told your mother that," he says, his voice tinged with regret.

"Dad," you tilt your head forward, frustration coating your words. "We've had this trip planned for months," you enunciate, your disappointment clear.

"I'm sorry, honey. I just can't swing it right now. Hospital is short-staffed," he says, sincerity in his tone before his eyes light up in thought. "How about you get Abbott's daughter to go with you and your mother?" He nods. "You two are really good friends," he says before his face contorts into confusion. "Surprised she isn't here with you," he huffs deeply.

"She had a thing," you bring your hand up and shoo it to the side. 

"A thing? What's a thing?" He says with confusion in his tone, watching your hand flail in the air.

"Just something she had to do," you confirm, not sparing much detail.

"Ah. A secret thing," he says, lifting his hand to pull an invisible zipper across his lips before twisting a fake key on the corner and throwing it to his side. "Got it."

Before you can get a word out, your dad looks behind you and issues a smile towards them before quickly moving to greet them.

"Jack," he addresses, bringing him in for a hug.

"Hey, man," Jack says to your dad, hugging him back, his eyes then wandering to you. "Hey, kid," he smiles towards you, a knowing glint in his eyes. 

"Hi, Dr. Abbott," you squeak, feeling a surge of nerves. 

"Thought you only worked tonight?" Your dad questioned, tilting his head in confusion.

"Eh. Got called in since one of the other doctors got the flu," he shrugs, though his eyes aren't even fixed on your dad.

"Dr. Bigley? Heard his wife's back in town after being gone for two weeks. You think she mysteriously caught the flu, too?" Your dad jests, a knowing tone in his voice, unaware of the brewing tension beside him. "But, hey, since you're already here, could you take Whitaker on your rotations? Kid could use more patient practice," he tips his head towards the room he's in.

"Sure...yeah," Jack says, finally tearing his eyes away from you to look at your dad. "I can do that."

"Thanks," your dad moves to grab his pager, blaring loudly. "Jack, could you walk her out?" He says, referring to you as he starts over to you. "Make sure she leaves," he raises his brows at you. "Bye, hon. Love you," he presses a kiss to your forehead before spinning on his heels to head in the opposite direction. 

"Bye, Dad. Love you too," you yell back, eyes glancing at Jack. 

The air crackles with tension as he extends his hand, silently urging you to lead the way. You pick up the cue, your steps quickening as you head towards the front doors, your hands nervously clutching your purse strap.

"You look like you want to be anywhere else than with me," Jack murmurs lowly so no one around can hear, taking note of your sour expression.

You can't help but let out a dry laugh. "Considering I was on my knees for you yesterday morning, I'd say that isn't the case," you say with a casual smirk, adjusting your purse strap.

He stops in his tracks, a cheeky smile growing on his lips. "You little minx—"

"What do you recommend for bruised knees, Dr. Abbott?" You ask with interest and muster a serious expression, eyes locked onto his.

His eyes widen slightly, searching for a crack in your serious facade. "I...well—"

You snicker, making him release a sigh of relief. "I'm just teasing you, Jack. I'll call you later," you murmur, your eyes boring into his. 

"Looking forward to it, sweetheart," he says with a warm smile, his eyes reflecting the depth of his feelings for you.

He wants to reach out and kiss you.

Pull you tight against his body and thread his fingers through your hair, but he can't.

Not here, not now.

His fingers flex as if to touch your fingers that come close to his as you leave.

Yours flex out, too, he notices.

He smiles at the exchange.

It was better than any kiss he could ever get.

About midday, you're parked at your desk, your computer wide open, and your screen is black, responding to your inactivity.

You can't focus on anything you start working on.

Every time you start reading a case study, your brain wonders to Jack.

You always loved seeing him at the hospital when you visited your dad.

Dressed up in his scrubs, hair slightly disheveled, combing his fingers through it when he's irritated, and the teasing tone in his voice when he gets frisky, you can almost smell the antiseptic and hear the distant beeping of machines.

You catch yourself slipping far away from the case study again. 

Fuck it.

You're feeling needy.

You grab your phone, sliding your finger to hover over the call icon on his contact.

It takes two rings, and you hear the familiar sound of heart monitors and shuffling in the background. 

"Hey. What are you up to?" Your voice echoes through the line, and your finger fidgets with your pen. 

"Just had to consult a teen with a co-infection," he informs you, voice low. "Syphilis and herpes."

"Woah. Save some of the fun for the rest of us," you jest, a hint of longing in your voice as you put the pen between your lips. 

"Hilarious. What are you doing?" His voice is slightly muffled; you assume he placed the phone between his shoulder and cheek.

"Attempting to study. Have an ethics midterm tomorrow," you sigh.

"Oh. Look at you. Smart girl," he praises as you hear his pen scribbling on some paper.

"Eh. Should have started yesterday, but this guy I know kept me busy all day." You sit up in your chair, chewing on your lip.

"Hey. Don't blame me for your scholastic missteps," he laughs as you continue to hear his pen on the paper. 

"Why are you assuming you're the guy I'm talking about?" You contest, attempting to stir him up.

"Call me an optimist," he shakes it off, still continuing to write.

"What if you had competition? Would that scare you?" You find yourself asking with eagerness. 

"I'm an ER doctor who's ex-vet with nice hair," he begins, not paying close attention. "Who's competing with me?" His words don't hold smugness, just exude confidence.

"Someone's cocky," you tease, leaning your elbow on your desk, palm holding your cheek, enjoying the playful banter.

"Confidence isn't cockiness, sweetheart," he simply says as you hear a chair creak over the line. 

"So they say," you say, feeling a sudden hotness.

"So, why did you call?" He asks curiously, eyes still focused on a patient file.

"Am I not allowed to call my boyfriend?" Your voice is full of faux hurt. 

He smiles. "Of course, you can call me anytime sweetheart," his voice is sweet. "You just usually have a reason. Are you stressed?"

You let out a deep sigh. "A little, but I feel bad ranting to a guy who literally has to save lives for a living."

"Come on," he urges, his patience evident. "Hit me."

"It's just…midterms are coming up, and this fucking dissertation," you struggle to articulate, "I know this is going to sound dramatic, but I feel like I'm being swallowed whole, you know?" Your voice quivers with stress.

He sets his pen down. "It's hard," he agrees. "But doable."

"Wow. That's some great insight, Jack. You should consider writing a self-help book," your apparent sarcasm makes him smile. 

"Nah. Writing passages for the uninspired, unwilling to make the application is not really my thing," he quips, tilting back in his chair.

"Everyone's a cynic," you say with a humorous undertone that has him smiling in his chair.

The silence hangs over the phone for a moment.

"Are you on break right now?" You finally break the silence, tone full of anticipation.

"Just took twenty to breath," he suspires, hand coming to massage the bridge on his nose.

You chew on your bottom lip. "Are you in your office?"

"I am, yeah," he sits up in his chair. "Why?"

"Just curious," you lick your lips. "I miss you."

"Saw you this morning, sweetheart," he voices with a smile.

"I know, I know," you affirm. "I'm just feeling…needy." 

He can hear you shuffling around. "What are you doing?"

"What do you want me to be doing, Jack?" You coax, lying on your bed. 

You don't hear anything over the line, and you go to speak before you hear the click of a door closing and the same creaking of the chair.

"Pants off," he commands, voice husky.

You oblige eagerly, stomach fluttering as you slip your pants off and toss them on the floor. "What now?" You ask, already feeling breathless.

"Let's put those pretty little fingers to good use, yeah?" His voice is so low and raspy. "Slide them over your stomach. Don't go any lower," he directs, shifting in his chair.

You slide your fingers down your stomach, tenderly and easily, panting into the phone as you do so.

"That's it, pretty girl," he praises. "Keep going for me."

You let out a shallow moan at the praise, fingers moving up and down your stomach with purpose.

"Take your panties off, baby," he almost releases a groan at the sounds that come off your tongue as you slip your panties off, tossing them off you with the swing of your foot.

"They're off," you breathe, fingers coming back to brush on your stomach.

"Good girl," he begins. "Move your fingers across your pussy. Nice and easy strokes," his voice is so gruff, you could just come to the sound of him talking.

Your fingers move down to place easy strokes on your aching cunt, arousal already accumulating. "Feels good," you whimper, brain hanging onto his praise.

"Good. Just follow my voice," he says. "I'll make you feel good, okay?" He prompts before leaning closer into the phone. "Rub your fingers against your clit," he tells you.

"Jack…." You mewl into the phone as your finger plunges into your cunt, rubbing gently against where you ache.

"Oh. That's it," he gruffs. "Touch yourself, baby…just how you like, yeah?"

"Okay," you breathe out as your fingers actions speed.

"Doing so good," he compliments, hearing the wet sounds of your fingers plunging in and out of you. "Talk to me…let me hear you."

"Feels so good, Jack," you moan out, fingers working faster. “So good.”

"Yeah?" He says, egging you on.

"Mhm," you reply, pleasure building in your lower stomach.

"You gonna be a good girl and come by the hospital later?" He asks as he hears your panting increase.

"Yeah…can't wait to see you," your voice is strained as your fingers work, rubbing against your clit fast. 

"Oh, I bet, baby," he says. “I'll make you feel even better in person. Rub you off myself until you come on my fingers." His tone is downright scandalous.

You let out a louder moan, feeling an all-consuming, toe-curling orgasm crash into you.

Jack's eyes locked onto the door knob twisting open, issuing a hurried goodbye before hanging up and tossing his phone on his desk.

Dr. Robby enters, file in hand, staring curiously at Jack's phone on his desk. "Who was that?"

"No one," Jack says instantly, grabbing his phone to put it into his pant pocket.

"Okay. Guess we'll do the secrets thing," Dr. Robby raises his brows before handing the file to Jack. "Got a patient with a heart arrhythmia."

Jack abruptly shifts his focus back to work, his mind void of his personal matters. "Send them to cardio," he instructs, his tone professional and detached as he scans over the file.

"Yup. Already on it," Dr. Robby agrees.

Jack tilts his head, narrowing his eyes. "If you already did that, why did you need my consultation?"

"He's a vet. Said he knows you," Dr. Robby shrugs tilting his head to the side. "North side, room 25."

Jack simply nods as Dr. Robby heads out the door before sinking into his chair, deeply exhaling, the gears in his brain turning.

He was on the phone making you come just mere seconds ago, and he was a fragment of a second away from your dad being able to hear your sweet voice through the phone.

If that doesn't constitute a one-way ticket to the fiery pits, he's not sure what does.

The overwhelming sound of a thumping base and the smell of cheap beer and sweat hangs heavy, clouding your senses.

Your friend has convinced you to go to one of the frat parties.

Nothing like spending your Friday night in a small, confined room full of horny college boys and desperate sorority girls. 

The friend in question is a girl you've grown exceptionally close to within the last year.

Did everything together.

You were practically a part of her family, even her moms boyfriend took a liking to you and he was a hard ass.

But, you were particularly close to her dad.

Dr. Abbott.

Oh, you know, the guy you were secretly dating and screwing. 

Even made you come over the phone just some hours ago.

Guilt gnaws at your brain as your friend leads you into the house where the party is happening.

"God, it reeks of weed," you say, covering your nose as the pungent odor fills the air.  

"It's a college party. I'd be concerned if it didn't," your friend replies dryly, pulling you through a crowd of college kids toward the kitchen to grab some drinks.  

"Don't pour anything too strong," you warn, raising your eyebrows as your friend reaches for a bottle of vodka.  

"Just one shot? To celebrate you finishing your dissertation?" she asks, messily pouring the shots.  

"I haven't finished it yet—" you begin to protest, but she thrusts a shot in front of you, filled to the brim, causing some of the liquid to spill over the side.  

"Shot incoming!" She says with a bright smile, bringing the shot to her lips.

You begrudgingly down the shot with her, both cringing at the taste. 

"Tastes like shit," you remark, wiping some off your lip.

"Ugh," your friend winces at the potent flavor and, like clockwork, grabs two more cups to make another drink, this time less intense.  

You spot another friend on the couch in the living room, showing off a bag of white pills. You grab your friend's arm, leave your drinks on the counter, and walk over to him.  

"What are those?" You ask, crossing your arms and tilting your head toward the pills.  

"It's black star, straight from Germany," he replies, shaking the bag.  

You and your friend raise your eyebrows in confusion.

He tilts his head and shakes the bag again. "You know, superman? Because it takes you to space." He flaps his arms, pretending to float until his girlfriend elbows him. 

"Christ. Enough with the theatrics," she chimes in, standing beside him. "It's LSD. You guys want one?" She tips the bag, letting a couple drop into her palm.  

"Sure," your friend shrugs, reaching for the pills.  

You shoot her a disapproving look. "Absolutely not. You have no idea what those are made of. Do you want to end up in the ER, having to explain to your dad what you were thinking?" Your eyebrows raise as you speak.  

"You're no fun," your friend with the pills laughs, popping one onto his tongue.  

You give him a disapproving look before turning back to your friend. "I guess you're right," she says quietly. "He would kill me if the pills didn't."  

You nod in agreement. "Let's go get those drinks you made, yeah?" You grab her arm, leading her back to the kitchen.  

Your drink has shifted slightly to the side on the counter, but that doesn't deter you from throwing it back completely.

Your friend chugs her drink, licking her lips. "Should we do another?" She poses it as a question, but she isn't asking, already cracking open a fresh bottle of Everclear. 

You ponder for a moment, then hand your empty cup to her. "Fine," you exclaim, feeling a mix of exasperation and amusement. 

Your friend beams, pouring the spirit into your cups.

"Cheers to..." she trails off, pursing her lips as she hands you a drink. 

"...a good night," you finish, clinking your cup with hers. 

A smile spreads across her face, and once again, you both down the alcohol. The burn in your throat soothes your thoughts and lulls your brain into submission. 

Tonight was definitely going to be a good fucking night.

It's been twenty minutes since then. 

Your skin feels blistering yet icy.

Your head is pounding; you wouldn't be surprised if your brain imploded and cracked your skull.

A wave of nausea hits you, then retreats before you act.

What the fuck is going on?

Sure, you drank more than you should have, but this was not what usually happens. 

You glance at your friend perched in a corner near you, talking to a girl about something regarding her last lecture.

Nerd.

You presume she's fine.

Leaning against a wall, disoriented, you pull your phone out, opening up your text thread to the one and only.

Jack Abbott.

You haphazardly type out your sentence, and your vision starts to double, but that does nothing to deter you from texting him.

He answers immediately. 

Me: what r u up 2? working 2night?

Him: Why are you texting me in numbers?

Me: omg ur so oldd im crying kinda heartwarming though

Him: Heartwarming? How so? Him: Also, where are you?

Me: its just cute lol ur so cute Me: @ party that ur daughter dragged me 2 i feel woozy

Him: I'm cute? Honey, I'm old. Him: Have you been drinking? No drugs, right?

Me: yea ur cute sexy hot yup u check all the boxes dr hotness Me: no my friend tried 2 give uss lsd but i scolded ur daugher Me: i wouldnt ever take that shit or let her im drunk though

Him: Dr. Hotness? Hmm...that's a new one. Him: You need me to pick you two up? I can.

Me: noo were good i wouldnt wanna keep u from saving lives and all

Him: Let me come get you.

Me: jack im fine promise you better not show up or ill kill uu Me: i wouldnt actually but id be mad

Him: I can handle you being mad at me, sweetheart. Him: I just want both of you to be safe.

Me: were fine i promise! ur daughter is lit talking to a girl about her bio stats lecture shes such a nerd

Him: And you? What are you doing?

Me: texting u ofc

Him: Enjoy your party, but don't be stupid. Him: Take care of yourself and my daughter. Him: Call me if you need me.

Me: okay mr serious pants ill talk later byee

"Who ya texting?" Your friend scoots next to you, dilated eyes attempting to look at your phone screen.

"No one," you pull your phone to your chest in a panic, straightening your posture.

"Oh my God. Is it a guy? Do you have a secret boy toy I don't know about?" She nudges your side, face warmed from the alcohol.

"It's none of your beeswax," you huff, rolling your eyes playfully, attempting to sound nonchalant, though you can feel your head begin to spin again, but this time much faster.

"You know, I've never understood that saying," she says, her expression serious. 

You release a silent laugh as your words slurry, "Just, just go back to talking about your nerd things," you pat her shoulder gently, feeling your body shift, muscles relaxing to a disturbing degree.

"Whatever," she laughs, trudging herself back over to her friend. 

Him: Funny, but seriously, please be safe. Talk to you later.

That was the last thing you read. 

Your phone screen goes black as you feel the smack of your cheek hitting the cold wood and the sound of your friend rushing over to you, shaking your shoulders.

The urgency in her actions is palpable, a silent scream in the air.

Your friend calls your name over and over again, repeating it with more desperation each time, sobbing as she attempts to shake you awake.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck," she curses; your body is still, skin hot to the touch. "She, she won't wake up," her voice is shaky and frantic as she shakes you again, begging you to wake up. She snaps her head to whoever is close to her, her eyes filled with fear and desperation. 

"Call 911. Now."

"Female, early to mid 20s, unresponsive. Found at a party with signs of possible drug ingestion," a paramedic shouts, rushing you in on a stretcher into the ER as a nurse materializes at your side, the urgency palpable in the air.

Your friend follows close behind, mascara running down her cheeks as she frantically tries to see you.

"What the…oh shit," Langdon exclaims, his shock evident as he moves quickly behind the triage desk, his gaze shifting from you, looking lifeless, strapped onto a gurney, to Abbott's daughter hot on the paramedic's trail, sobs escaping her.

"Frank. Oh my God," she cries out, rushing over to him. "Please. You, you need to help her. They're, they're saying she was drugged," she stutters, hands moving messily through her hair.

"Hey, hey. Calm down, okay?" He puts his hands up, eyes searching her frantic eyes. "Tell me what happened," he says, now rushing over to you.

"I'm, I'm not sure," she heaves out as Langdon comes to your side, pulling your eyelids up to look at your pupils. "I turned around for a se, second then I heard her hit the ground."

"Dilated pupils. No sign of head trauma," he says, his voice urgent, his actions swift. "Let's move her to North side, Room 27," he turns, gesturing for Whitaker, whose eyes curiously stare at what is unfolding. "Whitaker, with me," he supplies, tipping him towards you. "Did she take anything?"

"No. Not that I know of," your friend sputters, her concern palpable, hot on Langdon's trail as he moves with you to the room. "She just drank."

"Drank what?" He asked promptly. "Let's get her on a monitor and start an IV with naloxone." He directed the nurse before looking at your shell-shocked friend. "What did she drink?"

Your eyes widen, and you search for the right words. "Um…vo, vodka and tequila…with Everclear," you manage to say, your voice trembling with shock.

"Yikes. Sounds like a bad night waiting to happen," he comments with a wince as he starts pushing the naloxone into the IV catheter. "Whitaker, go get Robby and Abbott. They're gonna wanna be here," he says, not looking up.

"Need her BP, pulse, and oxygen saturation. Let's get a tox screen, too," Langdon says urgently, not missing a beat.

"BP's 90/60, pulse is 110, oxygen saturation's 92% on room air," The nurse supplies. 

Langdon cringes. "Let's give her some oxygen and start another IV with 1 liter of normal saline wide open. Need to do a CT scan of her head so that we can rule out intracranial hemorrhage," he continues, assessing you as your friend anxiously waits by the door. "Where the hell are Robby and Abbott?"

"What's going on?" Dr. Robby moves in, following Whitaker, with Abbott close behind Robby. 

Dr. Abbott turns to see his daughter sobbing near the door as they all flood in.

"Came in unresponsive. Possible drug ingestion," Langdon eyes flick between Robby and Abbott. "Robby...it's your daughter."

Dr. Robby's eyes widen, twisting his head, issuing a curse as he moves into action. "Fuck—what the hell did she take?"He spits, looking around, and his eyes land on your friend.

"I don't, I don't know," her voice trembles with fear. "I, I just looked away for a second, and then I heard her hit the floor,"she turns to Dr. Abbott, chest heaving. "She, she looked...so lifeless, Dad," she cries out. "I, I thought—" she trails off as Jack brings her into his arms. 

"Shh," Jack holds his daughter as she sobs. "It'll, it'll be okay."

Jack wants to rush over to your side, heal you, then ambush you with a kiss.

But he can't.

Not now, anyway. 

"Where's the cardiac monitor? Get the God-damn monitor on her!" Dr. Robby's voice echoes with urgency, his mind racing frantically. "Were you watching each other? How did this happen?" He blurts out a million different, unimportant questions in the heat of the moment. 

All he can focus on is your lifeless body right in front of him.

"Robby...Robby," Langdon raises his voice. "Look at me," he pleads; Robby's eyes move to Langdon, with a deep exhale through his nose. "You need to calm down and treat your daughter," he says, his head nodding as he speaks. "Save her first; ask those questions later."

Dr. Robby sucks in a deep breath giving Langdon a nod before turning his attention back to you. "Whitaker, push in another dose of naloxone," he directs.

Whitaker nods, pushing in a second dose of the medicine. 

Everyone stands around you, anxiously waiting for you to wake.

Jack releases a shaky breath as he holds his daughter, mind already imagining the worst.

You spring awake, eyes wide and bright with a gasp, a sudden surge of relief washing over the room.

"Oh my God," your friend rushes to your side, grabbing your hand to ensure you're real. "You saved her," she turns to Whitaker.

"I just—" Whittaker starts before your friend pulls him right against her, pressing a messy kiss to his cheek, smearing lipstick on his skin.

"Thank you so much," she mumbles into him, her voice choked with emotion as she pulls away to hug you, her gratitude palpable.

Your voice, barely above a whisper, betrays your vulnerability as your friend steps aside for your dad's embrace.

"You're never leaving me again, kid," he half-jokes, his voice filled with relief and a hint of fear, hugging you tightly.

You can't help but laugh, your eyes meeting Jack's, who's staring at you with such intensity.

You open your mouth to call him over, but he leaves the room.

He dissipates, as does the protest on your tongue. 

"Let me get you some water," Dr. Robby kisses the top of your head, tilting his head toward Langdon to follow him out, leaving only you, your friend, and Whitaker in the room.

He's charting something when your friend moves next to him; her steps are careful, and her voice is a gentle murmur.

"I meant it, you know? Thanks for helping her," she smiles at him, eyes softening as she sees the lipstick mark still on his cheek. "You're a great doctor."

He gives her a smile, the tips of his ears going red from nerves. "I, well, yeah…than, thanks," he stutters, pretending to write something down.

"It's cute how nervous you get," she smiles, rocking on her heels.

His eyes widen. "Sorry, I, I have another patient," he says, avoiding her gaze and walking to the door.

She giggles as he walks out the door, bumping into the doorway as he exits. His face turns bright red as he turns to go in the complete wrong direction.

"I'm glad you're using my passing out as a means to meet cute guys," you say groggily, humor in your tone.

Your friend's eyes widen. "I would never—"

"I'm kidding. Whitaker is the only guy I don't think any dad would object to. He's super sweet. Would be a good match for you," you simply say. 

"He's nice, yeah," she agrees, her face warming with a playful blush. 

"He's really nice," you correct. "And he's a doctor," you release a breath. "Might as well marry him on the spot," you joke.

She lets out a laugh before coming over to you. "You're okay?"

You nod your head. "I'm okay."

Dr. Robby comes in, walks over to hand you the cup of water, and then turns to your friend. "Honey, the police want to ask you some questions," he begins. "I can come with you."

She nods, lightly squeezing your hand before moving in front of your dad to walk out the door.

You sit up and see Jack hovering outside. "Jack, can you wait with her?" Dr. Robby murmurs to him.

He nods, coming in and slowly closing the door behind him. 

"Jack..." You can already feel your throat clogging and want to die from embarrassment. 

How could this have happened to you? 

You've always been so careful. 

"I'm, I'm here, sweetheart," he says, pulling up a chair next to your bed before sitting in it to hold your hand.

"I, I don't remember anything," you start, tears clinging to your lashes. "Do you know what happened to me?"

He hesitates for a moment, squeezing your hand tighter. "Think you were drugged."

Your eyes widen. "Dru, drugged?" You stumble over your words, unable to comprehend what he said. "Like someone spiked my, my drink?" The shock of the revelation hits you like a wave, leaving you struggling to process the information. 

He gives you a weak nod. "Most likely."

You sink into the bed, tongue coming to lick your dry lips before the tears start pouring down your cheeks. "I, I can't believe it. I could have—" you start, eyesight blurring from your tears, chest beginning to heave. In this moment, you feel more vulnerable than you ever have before. 

Jack pulls you into his arms, your tears pooling on his scrubs. You're trembling with fear, and his embrace is the only thing calming you.

"I got you, sweetheart," he murmurs. "You're safe now."

You press your face into his chest, salty tears coating your lips, his embrace offering you immense comfort. 

"I'll never let anyone hurt you again."

author's mini note: he would so talk you through it...

Semper Fi Masterlist

Dr. Jack Abbot x f!doctor!reader

eight parts + epilogue; ongoing

Series Summary: You’re the ray of sunshine to Jack’s rain cloud. What do they say about opposites attracting?

Most of my works are 18+ due to adult language and content.

Series Warnings: age gap (reader is late 20s, Jack is late 40s), foul language, ptsd mentions, descriptions of hospitals/patients and mentions of violence at said hospital, violence against healthcare workers, medical errors bc I am a simple bitch, blood/mild gore/gun violence (Pittfest), sexual content/smut (afab!reader/female anatomy described), angst, mutual pining, mentions of difference in power dynamic, sunshine/grumpy dynamic, Jack lacking some emotional intelligence/bottled up feelings, mild suicide ideation/jokes. Mature themes.

— Anything marked with an astrik contains explicit content. Minors dni.

— All work is my own. Please do not repost anywhere else without my consent.

Part One.

Part Two.

Part Three.* (coming soon)

updated 04/06/2025

[ Main Masterlist ]

pairing: dr. jack abbot x reader

sum.: you have a one night stand with an extremely attractive older man, but it doesn’t seem like you’ll see him again. fate has other plans, it seems.

warnings: age gap (jack is late 40s, reader is 23) unexpected pregnancy, light smut, reader and jack have both been drinking but are very eager/consent is definitely there.

notes: i am still working on former stripper!reader, but this came to me and i had to get it out. i think this will be a series of smaller drabbles, instead of a full one shot, but idk, what do you guys think/prefer? unedited. any feedback is extremely appreciated, especially reblogs/asks!

wc: 1.3k

You meet Jack Abbot in a dark bar on a Thursday. You, drug out by your friends, begging you to just let loose for once. Him, alone, on his last night off for the week, mentally preparing to go back to work the next day.

You caught his eye from across the room, and feeling brave, and of course egged on by your friends, you make your way over to him.

The first thing he does is ask you how old you are, to which you give a cheeky response of old enough. At the unamused look you receive, you tell him you’re twenty-three.

Jack nearly choked on his drink at that, and nearly tells you that you’re too young for him. But the pretty and cheeky smile you give him makes a small smirk appear on his face, so he doesn’t.

The second thing he does is order you a sweet fruity drink and a double shot of whiskey for himself.

One round turns into two which turns into three. You laugh a lot, and he laughs at your laugh. Jack tells you briefly about his time in the army, and in turn you tell him about your evil boss that you just know is out to get you.

I’m an ED doctor, he mumbles in your ear after you ask what he does for work

An eating disorder doctor? He snorts at your question.

“No, emergency department, like an ER,” You blush as he laughs at you, nearly choking as he downs the rest of his whiskey in one go.

You don’t even realize that you had effectively abandoned your friends and had been talking to Jack the entire night until one of them comes to ask if you’re ready to go.

You look at Jack, sheepish smile on your face and a glint in your eyes.

You end up at his place, his mouth on yours and calloused hands pawing greedily at your tits under your shirt before he even gets the door closed.

“Your skin is so soft,” He mumbles as he leaves open mouthed kisses from the corner of your mouth to your neck and back up again.

You moan, “I like the way your hands feel on my skin,”

Your hands tangle in his hair as you force his mouth back on yours, teeth clashing as his tongue fights yours for dominance, ultimately winning when you distract yourself trying to get his shirt off of him.

As quickly as his shirt comes off, he has you topless, your shirt and bra tossed somewhere in his living room.

The rest of the night is a blur, but you know he fucked you in some way, shape, or form on nearly every surface of his home, from eating you out on the couch, to fingering you until you managed to squirt all over his countertops as he made you drink water to stay hydrated, to fucking you dumb on his cock in at least six different positions on his bed, and once more pressed against the shower wall before putting his shirt on you and holding your body pressed up against his body while you slept the entire night.

The next morning the two of you chatted over breakfast. No awkwardness, he goes out of his way to make you laugh over his disgusting coffee, as so affectionately deemed it.

He doesn’t ask for your number, so you don’t ask for his. You kiss the side of his mouth as you leave him.

Jack goes to work, business as usual, but he thinks about you every day for the next eight weeks. Wondering if your boss ever let up on you or if you tried that new Italian place you were wanting to eat at.

You spend the next eight weeks stressed beyond belief. Work eating at your soul and consuming your entire life. You do think about Jack almost every day, contemplating going back to that bar just to see if he’s there.

But you don’t ever get the time, and your next meeting is an unexpected one to say the least.

Slipping on the wet floor in a grocery store was embarrassing, but hitting your head on the way down was mortifying. You were going to have to find a new grocery store.

The situation just keeps getting worse as the paramedics show up, telling you they have to take you to the emergency room since you show signs of a concussion and your nose is bleeding.

“Hi, I’m Dr. Mohan. I hear you took a bit of a fall?” The doctor is pretty, and her smile seems genuine as she talks to you.

“Uh, you could say that. This all could’ve been avoided if they had a wet floor sign out at the grocery store, though,”

She laughs, “You would be surprised how often we see that here,”

She starts going through the usual string of questions you get at the ED. You answer them all until she gets to the last one, “And when was the date of your last period?”

All of a sudden, your mind is blank. Surely you’ve had it, right? You had to have.

“I-I guess I don’t remember,” It comes out a whisper, and your brow is furrowed as you try and try to remember. You know you had it.

Dr. Mohan senses your inner turmoil, “No worries, we can do a blood test,”

She takes your blood and tells you she’s going to go order a CT for your head, “just sit tight.” With a mind smile, she’s gone.

You sit there, trying to rack your brain. There is no way you’re pregnant. No fucking way.

It takes what feels like an hour for Dr. Mohan to come back, ultrasound machine in tow, “So, I have your test results, and it does appear that you are pregnant. We’ll have to do an ultrasound to confirm how far along you are, but after that we should be able to get you to CT,”

“What the fuck.” Is all you can manage, eyes wide as you look at her, “Are you, like, certain?”

She places a hand on your own, squeezing in a comforting manner, “The ultrasound will be to confirm, but blood tests are rarely wrong,”

She gets you situated and pulls the gown up so she can rub the probe over your abdomen, “I am hopeful we won’t have to do this vaginally,”

She quickly places the cold jelly on your abdomen and runs the probe over it, trying to find a fucking baby. You feel like you might throw up.

“And there they are,” There’s a smile on her face and she shows you.

“Oh my god,” You think you’re in shock “I think I’m gonna throw up,”

“Oh!” She quickly steps into action, grabbing a bucket and rubbing your back while you vomit.

“I think this is the worst day of my life,” She gives your shoulder a squeeze.

“The vomiting could be due to the fall you took,” She bites her lip, “CT is pretty backed up, let me go get my attending to see if he can take a look and find something that can get you moved up the list. I’ll be right back,”

She quickly walks out, and you feel tears building quickly in your eyes. How the fuck could you let this happen?

And now, you’ll have to awkwardly face Jack and tell him your passionate night has resulted in this situation.

He didn’t even ask for your number for crying out loud.

Your downward spiral is interrupted when Dr. Mohan returns, with the last person you wanted to see right now.

“This is my attending, Dr. Abbot.” She gestures to him. “Dr. Abbot, I have a twenty-three year old female, approximately eight weeks pregnant with a possible concussion,”

You don’t hear another word that passes her lips, eyes glued to him, and he looks just as shocked and horrified as you feel.

First meetings

Pairing: Jack Abbot x female! intern! reader

Warnings: cursing, sexual content is described (not explicit), one night stand, medical inaccuracies, Jack Abbot being soft (I guess), mentions of vomiting (I promise no one is pregnant)

!MDNI 18+ content!

Summary: Meeting Jack Abbot twice for the first time was not on her bucket list, especially not after how their unoffical first meeting ended.

A/N: Heyy so, this was something else I wanted to write for Abbot. I am currently thinking about writing a second part for this, but I am not sure yet. I think it would be interesting, depending on how this is recieved I might write a second part :) Also the first part of this fic is more like looking back at the events that took place, again Jack might be a bit ooc, so please forgive me

She had met Jack Abbot in a bar for the very first time. It was one of those dimly lit, smelling like beer and wood, kind of bar, the kind of bar that served cheap drinks and was frequented by people that wanted to get drunk and have a good time. Just having finished med school, still waiting until her residency program would start. Her friends had wanted to celebrate, she had wanted to as well, there was a reason to after all. It had taken some convincing, especially since her friends had been rather insistent on an outfit she would never have chosen for herself.

Spotting the older man from across the bar had almost been like a moment of total clearness, like someone had flipped a switch in her mind. The wavy, salt and pepper hair, the beautiful features, the man had caught her attention without even trying. He had been staring into his glass, like he was miles away in a completely different plane of reality, maybe that was what had drawn her to him, or maybe it was that this man looked like he had stepped straight out of a painting.

Putting on her best smile she had sauntered over to him, trying to appear as confident as possible. As she did that she internally thanked her friends for the beautiful outfit she was now in. She bought him a drink before she even introduced herself, that had earned her a raised brow at first, then a slight smile. He had told her his name, his first name only back then. The first thing he had asked her then was how old she was. She had told him the truth, twenty six, he had been uncertain, but the moment she started chattering about the beauty of devotion to one‘s beliefs he seemed to have leaned back and given her a chance. Talking for hours with him she felt like something clicked between them, something was extremely right when they talked. At some point his hand had found her thigh, they began facing each other and their conversation flowed on. She felt guilty about having abandoned her friends, but the moment she glanced back towards where they were sitting one of them gave her a thumbs up. All of them looked in her direction and the thumbs up and happy smiles only grew more and more in the group.

The talking for almost four hours had landed her at his place, a hot mouth on hers before the door was even closed properly. None of the surfaces of his apartment had been left unused, except for the kitchen counter, though she had gotten that more than she probably should. At the end of the night her legs were shaking violently and the warm blanket wrapped around her, the warmth of him more comforting than it probably should be. For a man his age, she had joked while they laid in bed together after many rounds of very good sex, he had an impressive stamina. After that comment he had snorted and eaten her out like a man starved. Laying there with him she had looked at him, his face looked more relaxed then, his eyes on her face as she gently brushed his cheek with her knuckles.

“I wish I could freeze this moment in time,” she had whispered and he had smiled at that, simply kissing her, though he had never returned the sentiment verbally, but she had felt it through the kiss.

The next morning they had eaten breakfast together, it was nothing fancy, just some toast and cheese, but it had felt just right as they drank from his old beaten up coffee mugs, while chatting about this and that. She had given him her number and left around noon that day, the tension between them still crackling like it had the night before. Not sure if she should expect a call or not and if she should just move on with her life as she arrived at her own apartment.

——————————-

The dark blue scrubs hung loosely on her body, the elastic in the pants keeping them from falling, the only things that were keeping her from going insane over the fabric were the compression socks and the thermo undershift she was wearing. A stethoscope wrapped around her neck she stepped into the ED of the PTMC. It was busy, people running around, the voices of patients filling the room with a mixture of low groans and moans, but also light giggles from medication, staff was standing together, chattering away as she moved across the room.

This was her first day of residency, well her official first day of residency would have been last week, but she had been throwing up the entire weekend, as well as in the entirety of the day of her official first day, so she had called the admin staff and called in sick. The worst thing about that being that that day had been the day of the Pitt Fest shooting, she had felt guilty, but then decided that feeling guilty would not get her anywhere and her having to vomit constantly wouldn‘t have been helpful in any case.

As she walked towards the nurses‘ desk she saw an older man standing in front of a computer, hunched over slightly, black framed glasses resting on his nose, a dark hoodie thrown over his scrubs, he looked weirdly familiar, but she couldn‘t place his face. His dark hair was styled upwards and the beard had some white hairs in it, though the wrinkles around his eyes were deep, he looked about six or so years older than Jack, she shook her head, she had to stop thinking about him, it had almost been a month since she had seen him.

„Excuse me?“ she asked carefully, stepping towards him, not wanting to startle the man. He looked up from the desktop, his dark eyes glimmering in the white light of the ED. “Dr. Robinavitch?” she tilted her head to the side.

“Yes, that is me,” he laughed slightly as he smiled at her. Quickly she gave him her name and his face lit up.

“Ah, yes! It is good to see you back on your feet.” he looked over at the nurse in the nurses’ station, blonde hair and she could see she had a black eye.

“Thank you,” she laughed nervously.

“So this is our charge nurse, Dana, the most important person you are going to meet today,” he looked around, seeing a group of three women and one man coming their way, he waved them towards them. Quickly she introduced herself to them. She learned that the young woman with the dark hair and clear eyes was Trinity Santos, an intern. Melissa or rather Mel King, an R2, with the most adorable smile and charming optimism. Victoria Javadi, who seemed to suffer from imposter syndrome more than anything else and such an inviting personality that it almost made her want to cry, she was an MS3. Dennis Whitaker, who looked like he wanted to sink into the floor and seemed to be a bit awkward, though it was rather endearing, an MS4.

Dr. Robinavitch or rather Dr. Robby, how he was also called, sent you along with Dr. Heather Collins for most of the day. She was a nice woman with whom she got along rather well. Since she was an R1 she still needed guidance in certain areas and was mostly supervised by someone, not all the time thought.

The day turned out to be rather eventful and gruelling in its own way, she had been spit on, shouted at, a patient had smeared poop in her hair, a worried parent had accidentally elbowed her in the stomach, the hit and run victim she had helped treat had died, a toddler that had somehow gotten the child safety cover off the outlet had put a fork in it and shocked himself was in a coma, a patient had slapped her ass as she was trying to treat his head injury, she had nearly peed her pants because she did not get the chance to go to the bathroom, Santos was incredibly annoying, another patient had asked her if she would suck him off if he paid her the right amount and the list only went on the later it was, another patient died from internal bleeding from multiple stab wounds, no chance for lunch or a drink in between cases. Glancing at her watch she saw that it was already past eight, meaning that theoretically her shift was over, but apparently things kept coming her way and all hands were needed.

From what Santos had told her, the senior attending from night shift was already there, but she had yet to see the man. Trinity had told her that he was an incredible teacher, someone that was worth working with. Since the night shift was already there she also met Dr. Ellis and Dr. Shen and their charge nurse Brigit.

As she made her way towards the nurses’ station she felt herself beginning to sway, the fact that she had not had a single sip of water since she had eaten breakfast that morning or the fact that she had not eaten anything in over twelve hours explained the dizziness. She also hadn’t sat down in the same amount of time. Stumbling slightly she felt herself loose her footing on the floor of the ED she reached out for something to hold onto while she prepared to hit the ground. She felt two strong hands on her arm and hip pulling her upright before she was able to fall, the feeling of hitting a strong chest made her breath in sharply.

Turning her head to face her saviour she practically let out a screech as she saw Jack holding her tightly.

“Holy shit!” she practically shouted. It was not because of his great reflexes nor was it because she was glad she hadn’t fallen, no that was because she was face to face with Jack again. Some faces turned their way as he supported her to get her to sit down somewhere and she did, taking a seat on one of the chairs she stared at him, with her mouth slightly agape as he looked at her with a raised eyebrow. She heard Princess and Perlah mutter something between them in Tagalog, knowing that it was probably the gossip mill already beginning to move. Before Jack could ask her anything Mel was already hurrying to the nurses’ station.

“Are you alright? I saw you almost falling!” Mel came over to her, looking extremely worried.

“Yeah, everything alright,” she continued staring at Jack, her mind going through all kinds of emotions going through her mind at this moment. “Just a bit dizzy,” she snapped her gaze away from Jack who let out a huff.

“Dr. King, get her something to eat and drink, if you don’t mind, then go home, your shift ended over an hour ago,” Jack spoke softly to Mel, who nodded and headed off. He looked at her for a long moment and shook his head. She could hear the discussion between Princess and Perlah intensifying, though she did not understand what they were saying.

“Dr. Jack Abbot,” he held out his hand to her, just like he had done in the bar a month ago, a shiver ran down her spine as she took it, shaking it carefully introducing herself with her full name this time as well. Suddenly it was like whiplash hit her and she knew where she had seen Dr. Robby before, she had seen him in one of the photos in Jack’s apartment.

Mel reappeared with two granola bars and a cup of water in her hand, setting it down.

“Thanks, Mel,” she smiled at the woman. “See you tomorrow,” Mel told her goodbye as well and disappeared, she knew that she still needed to pick up her sister.

“Eat, drink, go home, you need to be here at seven tomorrow,” his voice was firm, but not unkind. She snorted, defiant and angry at him, hell he could have at least told her that the one night stand was supposed to stay exactly that. She wanted to tell him to go fuck off.

“Thanks, but I will be fine,” as she got up from the chair her dizziness came back knocking the wind out of her and she swayed again, sitting back down she grumbled while opening the granola bar, practically inhaling the two bars and drinking the cup of water in one gulp.

“There happy,” she sounded more snappy than she intended and she heard one of the night shift nurses gasp slightly, that would definitely be thrown into the gossip mill.

“Yes,” Jack gave her a pointed look, the kind of look that said ‘if you do that one more time you are going to be in big trouble’. “Now, go home,”

Not letting him tell her that twice she shot out of the chair and made her way towards the lockers, the dizziness wasn’t gone completely, but the bars and the water had helped. She saw Perlah and Princess in the hallway, both of them giving her suspicious looks. This was going to be interesting.

Mall Rats Masterlist

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