Bitter/sweet

pretty boy, pretty girl - jamie tartt x reader

pairing: jamie tartt x fem!reader

word count: 2.1k

a/n: okay yes. it has been six months. which is actually mad to me, but there we are - whoops! i've been off following my dream and wrote this while procrastinating an assignment, so this is by no means a return!! honestly i was just itching to write it, but i don't know how much time i have for more - enjoy nevertheless <3

warnings: just a little bit of suggestion towards the end, reader is referred to as 'pretty girl' as the title implies amongst other pet names, quite a lot of swearing (some things don't change)

---

“Hi love.”

Jamie barely murmurs it as he walks past you, can’t help himself but to drag a palm along your back, one shoulder blade to the other, as he goes. 

He knows he’s bold sometimes, but he swears it’s instinct. He glances back to see whether your expression holds any discomfort, but all he finds is your grin, a tiny wave. He continues on his path towards the canteen, knowing that your corridor conversation with Rebecca is probably important.

Somewhere between here and there, he decides to get your lunch, your usual, and sits alone on a table until you appear.

You do, three and a half minutes later. As soon as he sees you, the irrepressible urge to make you grin again is back with a vengeance. He waves you over to his table with a gesture to the food he’s got for you and- there it is again.

If he was a slightly smarter man, maybe he’d consider why all it took was the sight of him to draw your lips upwards, set your eyes alight.

“Thought I’d save y’ from the queue,” he speaks, still soft, in a tone he feels he only uses with you. You match his unnecessary low volume.

“Thanks, angel,” you say easily, and you must not see his stomach doing flips, “Too good to me, you are.”

“Shut up,” he deflects, wonders if you can see him fluster at your nickname for him, “Are you still coming tonight?”

You groan. He frowns, and you quickly correct.

“Sorry. It’ll be fun.”

“Yeah, you sound proper convinced, an’ all.”

You chuckle, taking a bite out of your sandwich and taking a pause to chew. Jamie eats too, content to let you think before you speak. It was slowly teaching him to do the same.

“I’m just boring, Jamie. My favourite people are all under this roof, but usually they’re sober, you know?”

He often forgets you don’t really drink. Your friendship (however sour that word feels in relation to you) usually confined to these halls, to the pitch, to various football stadiums up and down the country. When they all get a chance to let loose, you’re very quick with the excuses, but he’s believed them blindly until this moment.

“Shit, y’ don’t drink, right? I can’t imagine that’s much fun in a club. I won’t tell anyone if you happen to come down with an illness or somethin’ this afternoon.”

You’re grinning at him again, all bright and sunny. It’s downright infectious, so Jamie nudges your foot with his on purpose and then apologises like it’s an accident.

“You’re alright,” you reassure, “I will join tonight. Even if it just proves to myself I’m not missing out on anything. Maybe Colin’s not as bad a drunk as I’ve been led to believe.”

Jamie winces.

“No, he is pretty bad,” he admits and then finally comes up with something to make you more comfortable, “Hey, what about this? I won’t drink either and we can spend the evening laughin’ at everyone else.”

You poke his hand and he tries not to drop his crisp packet.

“It’s everyone’s ‘relax and recharge’ night, Ted said. We both know you relax much easier with a few drinks in you. And I’d never judge anyone for that, I really hope it doesn’t come across like I’m judging any-“

“It doesn’t, sweetness,” he cuts in, “But actually, I’ll relax better if I’m one hundred percent positive that you’re relaxing too. What better way than judgin’ everyone else, together like?”

You purse your lips thoughtfully, mid-chew. He feels like he’s holding his breath, like he’s underwater and you’re in charge of the oxygen tank.

“Well, see how you feel when we’re there. It sounds lovely but only if you’re still up for it when we’re right next to a bar,” you say, still unconvinced. He wants to convince you fully, but he can’t decide if he should argue with you or kiss you silly before you speak again, “Hey, if not, I’ll buy you a drink?”

“Pretty sure that’s my line, love.”

“I said it, I meant it. Girls can buy drinks for pretty boys, you know.”

He thinks you might have removed his oxygen tank now. There’s some cruelty in that sentence but you don’t know you’re wielding it. He wills himself to flirt back even though it’ll only make him feel sick.

“Okay, pretty girl. One passionfruit J2O, please.”

Another grin. He’s so fucking fucked.

---

He’s been waiting for you for around forty minutes. He doesn’t know if that’s the normal amount of time you take to get ready, even if he wishes he knew, so he just waits, leaning against his car.

After fifty, he decides there’s no harm in just checking you’re alright and haven’t slipped on a sparkly floor that an evening cleaner has done a number on.

You mentioned going to the kit room to get changed, and he meets Will on his way there.

“Hey mate, you seen Y/N?”

Will looks paler than he’s ever been. Guilty. Jamie narrows his eyes and waits.

“Kit room.”

It’s all that Will says. When Jamie doesn’t walk off immediately, still waiting for an explanation for Will’s strange demeanour, Will turns around and legs it all the way down the corridor, turns left at the end and never returns.

Jamie shakes his head and continues in the direction of the kit room. The closer he gets, the more he hears. Muffled banging, shouting. He picks up the pace.

“Y/N? Love?”

“Jamie! Jamie, in here!”

Your voice floats out from the kit room and he hurries over. Still very confused, Jamie turns the door handle and finds the door won’t budge, however hard he shoves his shoulder against it.

“It’s locked, babe. Did you lock it?”

He hears your exasperated sigh and feels a little embarrassed.

“No I didn’t bleeding lock it! Well, I did, when I was getting changed, but then when I unlocked it my side it had been locked from the outside.”

Jamie struggled to put the dots together. Had Will locked you in? Judging by the running, he had… and he’d done it on purpose. A spark of anger shot down Jamie’s spine but he tried to convince himself there must be a reason.

Before he could, there was a hand on his on the door, pulling him away. It was being unlocked by another hand and then he was being shoved inside, hard enough to stumble against one of the benches. A piece of paper was thrown at his face and Jamie groaned as he heard the lock click back in place.

“What the fuck?” he muttered as he stood up fully, more dazed than angry now as he stared at the locked door.

“Jesus, Jamie, are you alright? Who the fuck was that?”

“I dunno,” he says, staring at the door as if it might have answers. Your hand on his face wakes him up, his eyes shifting to yours where you look him over with concern.

“You’re alright, though?”

You ask it like you need the answer, and Jamie needs you to stop trailing a finger along his hairline either way.

“Fine, love,” he assures you, patting the juncture between your shoulder and neck gently until your hands drop to your sides. Then he raises his voice, and he’s not really talking to you anymore, “Whoever’s locked us in here as some kind of joke won’t be fuckin’ alright though!”

No answer. He picks up the small piece of paper from the floor and reads it in his head.

Tell her, you prick.

He’s actually going to hit Roy with his car. Lightly, definitely not enough to damage him, but enough to really, really piss him off.

This was all some ridiculous attempt to make him tell you how he felt about you? Absolutely not. Never. He wouldn’t be coerced into something so delicate, so important.

“What’s it say?”

You’re peering over the top of the paper, but he folds it in two before you can read anything. His chuckle comes out strained.

“It says: Get fucking pranked. Must be Roy, he’s probably scared Will into helpin’ him, the fucker. I’m afraid it’s payback for putting all his socks on the ceiling last week, babe, an’ you’ve been caught in the middle.”

You pause, staring at your shoes. For some reason, you look far more forlorn than the situation calls for, but it’s gone before he can think about it further.

“On the ceiling?”

He nods and you giggle. It’s only as you step away from him in your laughter that he realises how close you had been. He should’ve savoured it.

It’s also only as you step away that Jamie finally gets a glimpse of your outfit and nearly reaches out to the nearby bench for strength. He’s never seen you in a v-neck anything before, let alone a dress, and he thinks it might do him in.

“You look good,” he says lamely, then tries again, “Great. Fan-fuckin’-tastic, I mean.”

“I like that last one,” you smile, ducking your head. He thinks, or rather hopes, you’re a little flustered, “Fan-fuckin’-tastic happens to be what I was going for.”

“Yeah,” he breathes, words gone as soon as he’d found them. And now he was staring. Shit.

“I like your suit,” you say, maybe breathless yourself. It must be his ears. You reach up as if you might fiddle with his lapel but just point towards it before your hand drops again. You practically fall down onto the bench you’re both stood beside and he follows, ever obedient, “Shame no one else will ever see it. How long do you think we’ll be stuck here?”

The suit isn’t for anyone except you. That’s what he’d say if he had any stupid bravery. He’s an awful coward, he thinks.

“Until Roy gets bored or Keeley finds out I reckon,” Jamie guesses, “Y’ wanna play I-spy?”

You sigh, but when he peeks at you out of the corner of his eye, you’re grinning your silly, lovely grin again.

“I spy with my little eye…”

---

It is around 11pm, when Jamie has not long fallen asleep against the jacket he had scrunched behind his head, that he feels your hand on his ankle. He can tell, as he wakes without opening his eyes, that you’re not trying to rouse him. The touch is light, feathery. Maybe an accident.

No, not an accident. It wouldn’t have lasted this long, and your thumb is drawing absentminded circles into his ankle bone. You think he’s asleep and you’ve reached out to hold him anyway.

He opens his eyes but doesn’t move. His legs are stretched out on the bench in front of him and you sit upright next his sock-clad feet, one hand on his bare ankle. You’re staring at a piece of paper so intently he wonders what could possibly be so interesting.

“This doesn’t say get fucking pranked, Jamie,” you murmur, and his hand flies to his jacket pocket. It must have fallen out when he slumped into a slumber. He’s sat up in a blink, watching the hand that had been so soothing, fall back at your side suddenly.

“I’m sorry. Shit. I’m so sorry, Y/N.”

“No, don’t,” you insist, still staring at the piece of paper. Instead of whirling on him for answers, you reach calmly into one of the boot cubbies beside your head and pull out a piece of paper from one of the boots. You chuck it at him without looking.

He unfolds it with careful, if shaky, hands.

Tell him, you silly shit.

It takes him an absurdly long time to understand what the hell this second piece of paper means. Later, when the two of you look back on this moment (and you do so often), you’ll wonder how he could have been so dense and he’ll spin you a line about how too good to be true it all felt. But in the moment, he has no lines and no words, until your hand lands heavy on his knee this time.

“Jamie,” you say softly, through a grin that is so different from your usual that he could pass out. It’s so beautiful and so strikingly lovesick that he thinks he might actually be sick, “What do you have to tell me?”

“What?”

He feels dumber than he’s ever felt. But your hand is still on his knee and now you’re shuffling closer to him on the bench.

“What do you have to tell me?” you repeat, then you poke his chest playfully as you add, “You prick.”

He still looks confused, so you clearly decide the best way to catch him up is to kiss him.

You pull away after a moment, a moment of pure heaven, because clearly you don't want to kiss him fully until he's all clued in.

"Come on, pretty boy," you say, teasing, "Figure it out. I was going to buy you a passionfruit J2O. It's the sign of all signs."

He should be laughing at your joke, but all he really wants to do is kiss you again. And again.

Maybe again.

"Oh pretty girl," he says, and he feels the rumble of his low tone in his chest. He places a hand on your face, fingers itching at your hairline, "I'll tell you anything ya wanna hear, I swear. Anythin'."

He hears your breath hitch, but he feels it too, where the meat of his palm is covering your neck.

"Anything?" you answer back, "I could have a lot of fun with this."

You scrunch up your brow like you're thinking and he's so stupidly in love with you that he just tells you. Too-soon be damned.

"Smooth talker," you laugh, giddy, and you kiss him again. And it's so good that he doesn't even remember you didn't say it back until hours later.

(at which point, you say it back so many times and in so many ways, Jamie is certain that he's the luckiest man in the world. he might not hit Roy with his car after all)

Wrong Name

Summary: Reader visits her partner Jack in the ED to drop off his lunch catching the excited attention of all of his colleges much to his chagrin

Pairing: Jack Abbot x Reader

Word Count: 2k

Warnings: None! Just super cute fluff

Author’s Note: My first Pitt Fic! Basically, a short simple grumpy x sunshine reader cause I had the idea. Everyone in the Pitt loves the reader and Jack pretends to hate that, but everyone knows better. Again my first Pitt fic so any and all feedback appreciated and I hope you enjoy!

To say Jack was surprised to see you at Dana’s desk was an understatement.

He had just left you a little over an hour ago, a silent kiss to your temple, a murmured I love you into your hair, a cup of coffee left in his wake on the countertop so it was cooled down by the time you got up, the same as every day. You were still asleep when he left could you have woken up with something? Did he miss something last night?

His head was so full of the hypothetical he didn’t take the extra second to acknowledge how at ease your body language was as you leaned against the tall desk, a soft smile on your lips as you nodded along to whatever Dana was saying.

Instead, he immediately crossed the ED in a few steps, sliding a hand to the small of your back to grab your attention, cutting of Dana’s story without a second thought.

“Hey what’re you doing here are you okay?”

Your eyes flickered briefly to his, the corners of your mouth pulling up slightly at his appearance as you grabbed his bicep and gave it a small squeeze. “Yeah don’t worry I’m fine” before immediately refocusing on Dana, silently signaling her to continue.

Dana, however, as she normally does, knew better, a look shared between the two women as she stayed silent and instead focused on Jack, the man himself having not moved his gaze from your form for a second.

Pinching your shirt at the waist softly he gave it a small tug, physically pulling your attention back to him as his eyes scanned your face “is it that headache you had the other night? Is it back? I can bump you up the CT line”

“Honey” you cut him off with that small laugh that always had his chest warming “I promise I’m fine I texted you like an hour ago to meet me in the parking lot, you just forgot your lunch”

He could physically feel the relief hit his system at your words, his shoulders dropping as he finally took a deep breath, his next words tumbling off his tongue before he could put any thought to them “you didn’t have to-“

But just as he knew you would, you cut him off with a shrug and the same words you always used when he tried to dodge being taken care off “I know but I wanted to”

He couldn’t have fought the fond smile off his face if he had tried, something he knew he was going to get shit over from Dana and inevitably Robby later. “Why didn’t anyone tell me you were here have you been waiting long?”

“No I’ve been talking to Dana” And it was so entirely you the way you stated it like it was obvious. As if this little act of kindness in going out of your way to get him food hadn’t hijacked your entire morning. He was nearly overwhelmed by the desire to pull you into him, barely registering the way you pivoted back to Dana at the mention of her name.

“A conversation we absolutely will be finishing” spoken like a threat that had the charge nurse chuckling, “drinks later? Location and time TBD?”

“Sounds good kid”

And maybe it was a little selfish of him to want you just to himself in that moment, to pull you out of the Pitt to get even just two minutes of you alone. But Jack had found over the past year that he liked being selfish when it came to you “Oh and Langdon was looking for you earlier if you haven’t seen him yet”

“You spoke to Langdon too” he’ll admit to only faking part of the exasperation in his tone that had you giggling.

“He’s got a new puppy” you protested with a grin “what was I supposed to do? Not ask to see photos”

“You’re right ridiculous question” he conceded easily, “now aren’t you supposed to be at work”

And Jack relished the way he knew what your exact reaction would be seconds before you made it, the way your eyes widened almost comically before you reached for his arm, pulling his watch specifically into your line of sight, Jack using the momentum to press a quick kiss to your temple before he could think any better of it.

“Shit I’m gonna be late” You groaned softly, Jack chuckling at the action.

“I mean it, you didn’t have to bring my lunch in today”

“Please we both know you wouldn’t eat anything if I hadn’t” you brushed him off thoughtlessly before brightening and exclaiming “oh before I forget”. Suddenly you were pulling back from him, reaching deeply into your bag and rummaging slightly before pulling out a fistful of protein bars “give these to Dennis”

“To Dennis” he repeated with a raised brow as you pushed them into his chest.

“Yeah Dennis, well except for the chocolate ones”

“You want me to give these to my med student” he repeated with another exasperated sigh.

Again you responded exactly like he hoped you would, a giggle and a teasing push against his chest “yes except for the chocolate ones he doesn’t like those he likes the fruit ones. He won’t tell you that though, he’ll gladly take them all but he’s just being nice about it because he doesn’t want to offend you”

He couldn’t help but appreciate how well you seemed to fit into his life. How you’d forged relationships with each member of the Pitt’s team that existed wholly outside of him. It was tough now to believe there existed a time when he had been hesitant to introduce you to the chaos of the Pitt given how you now had seemed to adopt each member of his chosen family on your own.

His train of thought was effectively cut off as he watched your gaze suddenly deviate from him to something behind him, the corner of your mouth ticking up as you took one of the bars back from his grasp and yelled across the room “Dennis”

The poor kid looked terrified for a brief moment as he spun around before breaking out into a relieved grin once his eyes landed on you.

That was all the acknowledgement you needed before you were throwing the bar at him, Whittaker to his credit only looking panicked for a brief moment before he was effortlessly catching the bar, grinning down at his new snack appreciatively once he had it “Thank you Mrs. Abbot”

“Not my name” you corrected breezily with a wave “but bug Jack if you want more I’m giving him the rest”

“Great now if you’re done upsetting the natural order of my ED don’t you have work to get to” Jack cut in with fake exasperation.

“Natural order of the Pitt” you scoffed “that’s an oxymoron if I’ve ever heard one”

Your comment had Dana snorting as she didn’t even bother to try hiding the fact that she had been eavesdropping on your conversation up to this point.

“Yeah yeah now get out of here” he rolled his eyes with a fond smile “one of us has to make sure our bills our paid this month”

“I’m going I’m going” you groaned with a matching eye roll, pushing up slightly onto your toes and pressing a quick kiss to his cheek, pulling away much too quickly for Jack’s liking with a whispered I love you.

Then you were gone, headed back the way you came leaving nothing but the soft scent of your perfume in the air around him as Jack forced his eyes down to the chart in his hands, pointedly ignoring Dana’s gaze.

Just when he thought he was going to be trapped in the inevitable teasing of his charge nurse Dr. King came running up to the station, Jack more than happy to turn his attention to her and ready to distract himself with whatever case had her moving so fast.

Instead, however, Mel’s expression with brimming with barely contained excitement, her gaze searching everywhere around Jack but never properly landing on the man himself “Was that Y/N I heard? Is she here?”

With a disbelieving huff, Jack went back to his chart “you just missed her”

“No she’s by the door with Robby” Dana cut in with a smile, enjoying the way Jacks neck nearly snapped as he whipped his gaze across the ED to where you now stood with Robby, talking animatedly about something while the older man listened with  a smile on his face and hands in his pockets, looking much more relaxed than the two of them usually saw him within the department.

Mel peeled off without a second word to either of them, the pair watching the way your expression lit up once more as you recognized her as she approached.

“You gonna correct that” Dana nodded vaguely in your direction, her and Jack leaning onto the counter of the nurse’s station from opposite sides watching you give Mel an enthusiastic high five over whatever story she had rushed over to tell you.

“Probably talk to everyone at some point” Jack shrugged in response “the Pitt can’t afford to come to a screeching halt every time she so much as walks in the doors”

“No dumbass” Dana admonishes with a dramatic groan “it’s good the way everyone brightens up when she’s here. God knows we could use some positivity around here. I mean Whitaker’s comment about the wrong name”

“I mean she’s already told him to call her by her first name but I could talk to him-“

Dana silenced Jack with a glare, the attending turning his attention back to you from across the room as you eagerly talked to Mel and Robby.

“Was thinking about asking Robby to go ring shopping with me this weekend” he admitted softly “Scale of 1-10 how bad of an idea is that”

“Not where I thought this story was going but love is love so I support-“ now it was Jack’s turn to silence Dana with a glare, the charge nurse enjoying way too much the way the tips of his ears colored at the admission.

“a seven” she mused with a shrug, turning her attention back to you as you finally said goodbye to the two doctors “maybe a six” she let the silence settle around them and watched as Jack eyed her with a skeptical glare from her periphery “invite me along and I can keep it below a three”

Jack studied her for a second, crossing his arms over his chest before nodding softly “done”

Dana fought to keep the grin off her face as Robby finally started to make his way towards the two of them, Jack catching him slipping an awfully familiar looking protein bar into the pocket of his sweatshirt “Jesus how many of those does she have”

Robby shrugged with a chuckle, eyes casting up to the board above the desk as he did so “she mentioned something about having extra chocolate ones”

“I saw her slipping Santos bags of trail mix earlier if you’d prefer that” Dana chimed in with a smirk as Jack huffed dramatically.

“did everyone get to talk to her but me this morning?”

“You get her every day, stop being so selfish” Robby clasped his shoulder with a smug grin, giving it a soft shake.

 “Selfish” Jack repeated under his breath with a shake of his head, eyes going up to the board to pick out his next case as he did so “god forbid I want to spend time with my future wife”

He hadn’t even realized he said it out loud until the Pitt around him seemed to go unnaturally quiet. Casting his gaze back down he caught Robby and Dana sharing pointed, amused looks before turning their teasing grins back on him.

All he could get out was a simple “no” before he was storming off to the closest room, refusing to acknowledge the way Robby yelled out a threat after him “We will be talking about this later”

Masterlist

Thorin Oakenshield x reader

Smoke, Iron, and Thorin (Ongoing)

Chapter 1- Smoke, Iron, and Thorin

Chapter 2- I Wasn't Completely Nude

Chapter 3- Anger Translator

Chapter 4- Like We Used To Be

Chapter 5- Care to Make a Wager?

Chapter 6- Owe You One

Chapter 7- The Voice of Hunger

Chapter 8- You Love Bread

Chapter 9- Good Girl

Chapter 10- What We Left Behind in the Flames

Chapter 11- At Least We'll Be Together

Chapter 12- The Wandering Widow

Chapter 13- Knock Before Entering

Chapter 14- Mine

Chapter 15- Raspberry leaves

Chapter 16-coming soon

You Are In Love: Chapter Three

Jack Abbot x Reader

Chapters: Chapter One, Chapter Two, Chapter Three

Warnings: Language might be the only one in this chapter? Very fluffy

Description: After babysitting Eliza and baby Abbot, Jack doesn't exactly sleep with the reader. At Eliza's ice skating recital, the reader decides to help Jack learn how to skate again after losing his foot.

--

Robby leaned against the high counter of the desk hub, pulling his glasses out to read a message on his phone. His wife approached him, bumping him with an elbow when she copied his lean against the desk hub.

“I know something you don’t know.” She greeted in a sing-songy voice.

Without looking up, trying to focus his phone screen through his glasses, Robby answered, “I already know about the patient in Psych One. Had a potato peeler shoved up his ass. Guess who had to remove it.”

She tilted her head, genuinely concerned. “What?”

Robby’s eyes flicked up over his glasses, realizing that was not the gossip she knew. “The patient in Psych One?” He repeated.

She shook her head. “That’s not what I was talking about.” She replied, but then giggled, wrapping an arm around his bicep. “Sorry you had to do that.”

He shrugged. “Not even in the top ten items I’ve pulled out of someone’s ass.” He mumbled before looking at his phone again, holding it an elderly distance away from his face. “What do you know?”

His wife grinned devilishly, pushing his phone away so that she had his full attention. Robby smiled slightly at the excitement in her eyes. “She came to work today in his scrubs.” She revealed.

“Wait, wait…how do you know they’re his?” Robby was incredibly invested now.

“I saw the shirt tag on the scrub tub.” She continued, her smile somehow widening even more. “J Dot Abbot.”

—

Only two more days of working the day shift. That’s the record you kept on loop in your brain—only two more days of annoyingly simple cases that should have gone to urgent care. At least at night, the urgent care centers were closed, and patients had no other choice but to land in the Pitt. But more importantly, only two more shifts until you worked with Jack again. 

The words “boyfriend” and “girlfriend” had not been uttered, but the connection was intensely deep. When you went home with him after babysitting Eliza and baby Abbot a couple of weeks ago, you thought the trajectory to his bedroom was obvious. The hot kisses against your car door seemed fictional now that he didn’t sleep with you that night. All the signs pointed to his lap, but you ended up in his arms instead, separated by layers of clothes. He hadn’t even removed his prosthesis. You couldn’t complain too much because you woke the next morning, more rested than you had been in years, to the smell of bacon, banana pancakes, and coffee looming from the kitchen.

His chrome ringlets were still holding onto water from the shower, glistening in the early morning sunlight that shone through the window. His massive, flexed forearms looked more delicious than the pancake mix he was stirring. You were met with the warmest, dimple-filled smile as you padded into the kitchen.

“I didn’t want to wake you.” He greeted, voice slow as honey.

You stepped closer, pulling at the sleeve of your lavender sweatshirt from the day before. “I’ve gotta go get my scrubs for work.” You said sheepishly.

Jack pointed to the black scrubs lying on the counter, folded neatly with military precision. “They’re not Figs, but they get the job done.” He noted.

You walked to the counter, pulling the shirt off the top, letting it unfold. A laugh escaped your lungs. “Jack, these are yours.” You scoffed.

“I know.” 

A warmth crawled across your cheeks and slithered down your chest. “All this so I can stay for breakfast?” You teased, making your way over to him again.

“Mmhmm. Go on, get changed. I’ll be done here in a minute.” He finished his order with a kiss on your forehead. 

That morning had ended with sticky, syrupy kisses before he sent you off to work with a protein bar and an energy drink. When you arrived in the baggier-than-usual black scrubs that smelled perfectly of Jack, sandalwood and citrus, Robby’s wife clocked it immediately. She gave you a nudge on the arm when you stood next to her in front of the patient board. 

“Thanks for watching the kids. Eliza told me all about it this morning.” She said.

You smiled, looking at her for a brief second, and you were met with the smuggest, all-knowing smirk. You couldn’t hold back the giggle in your chest. “Nothing happened.” You defended, and it wasn’t a complete lie.

She leaned closer, arms crossed. “Well, something happened because unless your washing machine can magically make clothes grow…” She gestured to your oversized scrubs. “Those are not yours.”

The blush on your cheeks blew your cover. “Fine. I slept over with him…but we did not sleep with each other.” You clarified.

Because of your current schedule, you only saw Jack at shift change if he wasn’t elbows deep in a patient before you got called to another patient’s room. He wouldn’t kiss you or even touch you, but he had a coffee waiting for you in your locker with a fluorescent sticky note that read “Good luck today -J” every single morning. And every morning, you would tape the sticky note to the inside of your locker, creating a colorful collage that began to rival the betting wall. You would prance out of the lounge, warm coffee in your hands, and sit at your desk. And if time allowed, Jack would sit at the computer next to you, charting, and let his knee just barely brush against yours. No words. But you could hear it in the silence.

As you shucked off your gloves after handling your last patient of the day, you heard a tiny voice screech your name, and something clung to your leg. You looked down to see Eliza, hair pulled back into a sleek bun, in a sparkly dress that matched the hot pink cast encasing her arm.

“Oh, where did you come from?” You asked as you hauled the giggling girl into your arms.

“Are you coming to my recital?” She asked, wrapping her arms around your neck.

Before you could answer, you heard hurried, uneven footsteps approach from behind you. “Eliza, do not run away from me like that again.” You heard your soldier’s gravelly voice order. “Do you understand me, young lady?”

You turned around to see Jack, holding baby Abbot in his arms, approaching with an aggravated gait and piercing gaze. Eliza cowered in shame into your shoulder. “Yes, sir. I’m sorry.” She mumbled, giving him the biggest, brownest, puppy dog eyes you had ever seen.

And Jack was a sucker for that little girl. The frustration immediately washed from his face, and he placed a gentle hand on her back. “It’s okay, princess. You just need to hold an adult’s hand when you’re here, okay?” He soothed.

Eliza nodded in innocent understanding. “Okay.” She answered.

Jack shook his head but smiled nonetheless. Finally, he focused on you, eyes softening when they met yours. “Hi.” He greeted with a sigh.

You nudged your shoulder against his, itching for a sliver of physical contact. “Hey.” You replied. “Dropping off the kids?”

Jack shifted baby Abbot in his arms so that you could see his chubby little face. You ran a gentle finger against his cheek, and the baby smiled. “Yeah. Eliza has an ice skating recital tonight, so we’re gonna watch the ice princess do her thing.” He answered, poking at Eliza’s side, illiciting a giggle from her. “You coming?” He asked you.

Even though you only hesitated for just a second, Eliza immediately piped up, holding your face in her tiny hands. “Please come see me skate!” She begged with those same convincing eyes she had flashed at Jack just moments ago. Damn, Robinavitches can get whatever they want with those eyes.

“Of course, wouldn’t miss it for the world.” You assured her.

Eliza cheered in excitement, hugging your neck tightly. You laughed and squeezed her closer. It felt so natural now, holding her like this, like she was your family. Baby Abbot began to kick his legs and babble with a gummy smile as he looked behind you and Jack. 

“Hey, little man.” Robby’s uncharacteristically, overly-cheerful voice came from behind you.

“Daddy!” Eliza immediately squirmed out of your arms, reaching for her father.

Robby carefully took her into his arms, pressing a squishy kiss against her cheek. “Hey, big girl.” He greeted her before pulling her away slightly to look her in the eyes. “I heard Uncle Jack get on to you. What happened?” 

He looked at Jack, waiting for an answer, but Jack only gestured to Eliza, letting her explain. Eliza looked down, an ashamed pout on her face. “I ran away from him so I could hug her.” She said, pointing towards you at the end.

Robby nodded, squeezing her a little tighter at the thought of her being snatched up by some deranged patient. “You know the rules, Eliza. If you come to see Mommy and Daddy at work, you have to stay with a grown-up. No running away.” He lectured. “It’s to keep you safe, okay?”

The little girl nodded, moving her hands to play with his beard. “Yes, sir.” She replied, still ashamed, but with an adorable respectfulness.

And just like Jack, he was no match for her sweetness. He pressed his forehead against hers. “Are you ready to skate?” He asked with a playful seriousness.

Eliza grinned and pulled at the mesh sleeve of her skater dress. “Yes!” She affirmed. “Is Nana coming to watch?” She asked, looking around for the blond charge nurse.

Robby nodded. “Yes, she’s going to meet us there. She had to leave a little early, but you’ll see her when we get to the rink.” He assured.

The little girl smiled big, excited that her whole family would be there to see her figure skating. Robby’s wife approached your huddle, greeting both of her babies with a kiss on the cheek. Jack, almost reluctantly, handed over baby Abbot to his mother. 

“Are we ready to go?” She asked, resting her forehead on baby Abbot’s head, absorbing his cuteness after a rough shift.

Robby looked around, searching for a certain attending holding his signature iced coffee. “I need to talk to Shen before shift change. You might need to head on without me so she isn’t late for warm up.” He answered.

His wife nodded. “Okay, I can take the truck. Gonna ride with Jack?”

Jack gave a nonchalant thumbs up, affirming the plan. Robby nodded before focusing his attention on Eliza. “Daddy has to work a little bit longer. You’re gonna go ahead with Mommy and-”

“No!” Eliza exclaimed, face scrunching with frustration.

It caught everyone off guard. It was rare for the angelic child to have any kind of outburst. Robby’s brow furrowed. “Eliza.” He said sternly.

“No, Daddy!” Her big, brown eyes began to well up with tears. “You said that last time, and you didn’t come watch me skate.”

There was an uncomfortable silence amongst all of you, but everyone else seemed to know a backstory that you didn’t. Robby’s wife stepped forward, one arm holding up baby Abbot, and the other moving to rub soothing circles on Eliza’s back. “Sweetheart, Daddy is going to watch you skate. Last time was different.” 

Eliza’s bottom lip quivered as she grabbed her dad’s face, fingers nestling in his beard. “Pinky promise?” She begged.

Robby took in a shaky breath, something unusual in his eyes. Oh…those were tears. Not heavy enough to fall, but just enough to reflect light. He wrapped his large pinky around the tiny one that settled on his face. “Pinky promise.” He whispered.

Reluctantly, he let go of his daughter, so she could walk with his wife to the car. Jack noticed Robby’s distress and, for the first time in public, grabbed your hand in his. 

“Why don’t you ride with them? I’ll make sure Robby gets there.” He mumbled, only low enough for your group to hear.

You nodded, offering a small smile. “Okay.” You squeezed his hand once before heading off with Robby’s wife and the kids.

–

You sat in the bleachers next to Robby’s wife. She had wrapped baby Abbot snugly in a warm blanket so he wouldn’t get cold from the chilly indoor air. Eliza moved around the ice with her friends, more advanced than the other five-year-olds.

“I’m sorry about that.” Robby’s wife finally said.

You raised your eyebrows in confusion. “For what?” 

“For Eliza’s outburst back at the Pitt.” She elaborated.

You shrugged, offering a reassuring smile. “Kids will be kids.”

She sighed, shaking her head as she seemed to relive a painful moment. “A few months ago, right when Abbot was born, she had a competition. Jack was watching the baby for us, so Robby and I could both come to the rink. But right as we were leaving, five MVC patients came in. So I took Eliza, and Robby had to stay behind and help Shen.” She explained, shifting the baby boy in her arms so that he could rest comfortably as his eyelids began to droop. “It was the first time he missed any competition or recital.”

You winced, knowing there was no way to explain that situation to a young child. “I’m assuming she didn't take it well?” You added.

Robby’s wife huffed a sarcastic laugh. “You would be correct. She cried and cried, even when he got home. Eventually, she tired herself out, but it was the first time she wouldn’t let him put her to bed.” She continued, frowning again as she said, “Robby cried for an hour that night.”

You felt your heart ache at the thought of one of your mentors crying over his little girl. “I know that was hard for him. He loves her so much.” You replied.

She nodded and smiled slightly. “He’s the best dad. He’s always talking about how the kids and I are his second chance at life. How we brought the light back into him…” Her smile grew warmly as she reminisced on her marriage and family.

You couldn’t help but smile with her. Footsteps approaching behind you distracted you from your conversation. Robby and Jack walked down the stairs of the bleachers, arms linked to give Jack extra balance. They each held a bouquet of roses, undoubtedly for Eliza after the recital. A quiet “Thanks, brother” was all you heard before the men settled on either side of the two of you. Robby leaned in to kiss his wife, mumbling something that you couldn’t quite decipher.

Meanwhile, Jack bumped his shoulder against yours, gaining your focus. “You ready to be on night shift again?” He asked.

You pretended to hesitate. “I mean, I guess…” You trailed off, looking away from his gorgeous stare.

He chuckled and looked out at the ice rink. “Ouch.”

Cautiously, you grasped the interior hook of his elbow, placing your other hand on his bicep, and leaned close. “Ready to be with the night shift people again.” 

He tilted his head lower to rest on yours, his arm flexing under your grasp. “The people?” He questioned. “Like all of them…or some of them…or just one of them…?”

You giggled at his antics, lightly squeezing his bicep. “Just one of them.” You confirmed.

Music began to play overhead, and all of the little ice skaters lined up. Eliza looked out into the bleachers amongst the other parents, searching for her family. The four of you clocked it, and you all waved at her. Even from a distance, you could see her excited grin as she waved back. Someone sat behind you on the bleachers, patting Jack’s shoulder.

“You know, you need to whip your night shift into shape.” Dana’s voice grumbled. “I left an hour late because of them.”

Jack turned around, an offended look on his face. “My night shift? It’s Robby’s department.” He defended.

Robby peeked his head up at the sound of his name being brought into an argument. “Not my monkeys, not my circus.” He retorted.

Jack huffed. “Um, it absolutely is your circus. You’re the fucking ringleader.”

“Yeah, but not night shift. They’re another breed.” Robby replied, eyes focused on his daughter.

Dana raised an eyebrow at Jack, waiting for his next response. “Whatcha gotta say about that, Lieutenant Colonel?” She taunted.

Jack waved her off. “Can you leave me alone? I’m trying to watch my niece.” He complained.

You looked up to him. “The recital hasn’t started yet, they’re just doing warm-up drills.” You countered.

His bewildered eyes flicked to you. “And it’s cute.”

Dana chuckled before waving at baby Abbot, who giggled at her. “Hey there, sweet boy.” She greeted. 

The baby reached for her, and Robby’s wife willingly exchanged him to Dana’s arms so she could record the recital on her phone. You heard Dana mumble something about “Maybe we’ll just rename you Daniel,” as the lights in the bleachers dimmed, and the rink illuminated the tiny dancers in their glittery outfits. 

–

The music ended, and the audience cheered for their kids. The little skaters made their way off the ice, and you all met Eliza at the bottom of the bleachers. She carefully wobbled over to her parents’ embrace. Robby snatched her up so they could kiss her cheeks.

“You did so good, baby girl!” His wife praised.

She giggled and covered her face. “Thank you, Mommy.” She answered politely.

Robby lifted the bouquet of light pink roses that he had concealed behind his back. “These are for you.” He announced with the chivalry of a prince.

Eliza’s eyes widened. “Flowers!” She exclaimed. “I love flowers!”

Jack smiled and held up his bouquet of white roses to her. “Then I guess you’ll like these, too.” He suggested.

The little girl could not fathom that she had so many flowers. The bouquets in her little arms nearly took up her whole body.

“What do you say?” Robby’s wife cued.

Eliza wrapped her arms around the necks of both men, squeezing them in until the sides of their heads bumped together. “Thank you, Daddy and Uncle Jack!”

They both pressed a kiss to the side of her head. Your heart fluttered at the sight of Jack caring so deeply for his niece. Dana bounced baby Abbot in her arms and reached for her phone.

“Okay, we need a family picture.” She announced.

Robby’s wife reached for baby Abbot. She sat him up in her arms and nestled into Robby’s embrace, squishing their family together. Dana took several pictures while you and Jack made silly faces behind her to make the baby laugh, inevitably making Eliza giggle, too.

“We need a big family picture!” The little girl exclaimed.

You absentmindedly reached for Dana’s phone to take a picture of all of them. Robby stopped her by saying, “What are you doing? You’re in the picture.”

Oh. You were in the family now. Jack smiled, holding his arm out for you to curl into for the picture. You handed the phone to another parent and wrapped your arm around Jack, leaning in close. After the picture, he pressed the most subtle kiss to your temple, and your heart nearly jumped out of your chest.

“Can we skate now?” Eliza asked her parents.

Robby’s wife smiled. “Yeah, let me get our skates out of Daddy’s truck, okay?”

You looked to them, a little confused. Jack caught your expression. “They let the families free skate with their kids after the recital.” He explained.

You nodded slowly before looking up at him again. “Are you gonna skate?” 

There was a hint of sadness in his gold-flecked eyes that hit you in the chest. “I don’t skate anymore.” He answered, wiggling his right foot.

Robby shifted Eliza in his arms so that she sat on the side of his hip. “It’s a shame. Me and Jack used to play in a pick-up hockey league when we were young.” He revealed.

Your eyes widened, mouth dropping in shock. “Excuse me?”

Jack chuckled and crossed his arms. “We are still young.” He protested.

Dana scoffed and rolled her eyes. “God will strike you down for lying.” She warned. “They used to come in to work with bloody noses and sprained fingers. They’re lucky they worked in a trauma center.”

The old men waved her off but still laughed. Robby’s wife returned with a duffel bag with two pairs of skates. You sat on the bleachers with Jack as they pulled the skates on and set off on the ice with their daughter holding each of their hands. Dana sat behind you both a few rows up, cradling baby Abbot as he slept in his warm blanket.

You leaned your head on Jack’s shoulder as you watched Robby expertly move across the ice. “Do you miss it?” You finally asked.

Jack looked down at you, trying to read your expression. “Miss what?” He questioned.

“Skating?” You clarified.

The silence that followed seemed never-ending. You worried that you might have struck a nerve, but then he quietly answered, “Yeah, I do.”

You smiled slightly. “Then, why don’t we go out there?”

He let out a sigh, shaking his head. “I don’t know…”

“Why? Are you scared?” You taunted with a smirk, thinking if you playfully challenged him, he might cave.

Jack’s eyes met yours, and boy, you could see that vulnerability again. “Yes.” His answer was short and quick. 

You smiled reassuringly. “What’s your skate size?”

“14.”

“Oh.” Your eyes widened slightly, not expecting that large of a number. “Well, you know what they say.” You said with a wink.

Jack rolled his eyes but chuckled at you as you pranced away to the skate rental booth. You were going to be the death of him. 

–

You stepped onto the ice, ankles stabilizing as the traction under your feet changed. The ice wasn’t fresh, but you had no issue gliding a couple of feet. You carefully turned around to help Jack. But he waited at the entrance, stricken with fear. His eyes were blown wider than usual, and his chest moved quickly. He looked like he was about to jump out of a plane and not step onto an ice rink. 

A couple of steps, and you were right in front of him. Your hands reached out to grab his with a grounding firmness. “I’ll be right beside you the whole time.” You promised. 

He only nodded. He shifted in the skates uncomfortably, like he had every intention to take a step forward, but his feet still didn’t move. His grip on your hands tightened so much that they began to shake.

“Jack?” You whispered. 

He didn’t look at you. Only stared at the ice before him like it was a lava floor. “Hmm?”

You decided to take a trick out of his book. You moved your head until his eyes had no choice but to meet yours. Seeking out the contact. His whiskey eyes were nearly black from dilation. The fear was truly crippling him. “I’ve got you, baby.” Your voice was powerfully gentle. 

Baby. You called him baby. The first term of endearment between each other. The word left your lips so naturally, like you had called him baby a thousand times already. It was enough to ground him. It was enough to move his left foot forward, letting the blade touch the ice. 

You turned your ankles in to stabilize yourself on the ice so you could wrap your arm around his waist. His hands moved to your shoulders, grabbing painfully tight, but you didn’t care. 

“You’re doing so good, Jack.” You sang sweetly. 

The softness in your voice was the same one you spoke to Eliza with, but he didn’t feel patronized. He felt stronger and affirmed by the way you said his name. He swallowed hard when he began to move his right foot up to the ice. 

“There you go.” The praise continued to fall from your lips. 

Finally, the blade hit the ice. The feeling was so foreign to him. There were no sensors in his foot to feel the slickness of the ice. He had to predict it from halfway up his shin. Since he was a child, he could skate on ice better than he could run, and he was a fucking track star. After losing his right foot, he hadn’t dared to get on the ice again. Not because he couldn’t. He had learned to walk and run again with enough physical therapy. But he was afraid that he couldn’t. The confirmation that he couldn’t do something was terrifying. 

Jack took the smallest step forward with his right foot, studying the way his balance reacted to the ice. You patiently waited as he loosened the painful grip on your shoulders, moving his hands down to your forearms. 

Slowly, you skated backwards, pulling him with you. His feet moved cautiously, and his breathing began to deepen with confidence. 

“That’s it. You’re doing it.” You said, not raising your voice enough to draw attention, but enough to make him look up. 

The beaming smile on your face could have melted the entire rink. Jack knew in that moment that he had never been looked at with such pride and love in his life. Your eyes told him that he had hung the stars, and he believed it. A smile tugged at his lips, daring to share in your happiness. 

The happiness only lasted for a few more feet and cautious feet shuffling. His skate caught in a groove that yours had managed to avoid. The fall happened so fast, but you were ready to catch him in your arms and drop to the ice, undoubtedly hitting your head. But that wasn’t what happened. You never hit the ice. Your entire body was cushioned by his. In that split second, your soldier had changed the trajectory of your fall, taking your place of hitting the ice. 

“Fuck, I’m so sorry.” Was the first thing you heard from him, his voice breaking. “Are you okay, are you hurt?”

You sat up quickly to see him below you, fighting back the pain that had to be wracking through his body. You pulled him to sit up, grabbing his face in your hands. 

“Jack, I’m fine. Are you okay?” You asked, scanning his body for any dislocated or broken limbs. 

Before he could answer, the smallest “Uncle Jack!” rang from across the rink. You both looked up to see Eliza scurrying over. Knowing she was moving too fast and couldn’t stop herself without falling, you caught her in your arms.

“Uncle Jack, are you okay?” She asked, the worry palpable in her question. 

Jack faked a smile, but you could see him cracking behind it. “I’m okay, princess.” He confirmed. “Just fell down.”

Eliza threw her arms around his neck, and for the first time that you had seen, he didn’t relax or let go of his troubles. He numbly hugged his niece, eyes devoid of the usual joy she could impart. 

Robby quickly approached, kicking up a wave of shaved ice as he halted next to you. “You alright, brother?” He asked as he knelt down. 

Jack continued holding Eliza, hoping that eventually the pain would numb if he did. “I knew this wasn’t a good idea. I’m not ready.” He said, looking up at Robby. 

While the comment was clearly about ice skating to your ears, Robby knew its double meaning. Just as he was about to speak, your voice cut through. “Jack. You have to keep trying.”

Jack shook his head, letting go of Eliza. He began to struggle, wanting to stand up, but the skates kept slipping as he tried to get a grip. “I don’t think I can do this.”

You put a settling hand on his shoulder, letting it drag to his sharp jaw, forcing eye contact again. “Well, I know you can.” You reinforced. 

This time, Jack’s eyes were glassy. The threat of tears loomed off the distance in the storm in his eyes. Your thumb brushed his cheek, ready to fight back against anything that fell. 

Eliza moved over to Robby, letting him place a protective hand to stabilize her. “It’s okay, Uncle Jack. I fall down all the time, but Daddy says ‘Suck it up, buttercup.’” She imparted her wisdom. 

The tension broke. Everyone burst into laughter at the little girl’s innocent pep talk. Robby pulled his daughter tightly into his arms, shoulders still shaking with chuckles, and kissed her forehead. “That’s right, sweetheart.” He said. 

When you could see clearly again after recovering from laughter, you looked at Jack. He lost the battle to tears, letting them fall freely as he smiled. With the sleeve of your underscrub shirt, you wiped them away before Eliza could see them and worry further. 

“You have your own army around you, Jack. We’re with you every step of the way.” You assured him. 

Jack took a much-needed deep breath and reached to grasp your hand resting on his jaw. He looked up to Robby, who smiled and gave him a playful salute. He never imagined that he would find himself uttering these words as his grown ass age, but he finally said, “Okay. I can try again.” His voice was stronger now, the gravel back in his words.

You and Robby helped him stand to his feet on either side of him. With one arm thrown around each of your shoulders, he stabilized on the ice, testing the pressure on his right foot. Eliza danced ahead, doing her little twirls showcased in her recital.

“Eliza, you don’t have to show off.” Jack called out to her. “Let Uncle Jack get his sea legs back.” 

The little girl giggled as she continued to prance on the ice. Carefully, you and Robby moved to help Jack adjust to how his body balanced on the ice. Tiny steps, shuffling forward, left foot always moving more confidently than the right.

“You’re gonna be skating circles around me again pretty soon, brother.” Robby said, and it drew a laugh from Jack.

“I’ll have to pull my hockey stick out of the attic. Gotta teach Abbot how play since he doesn’t have anyone else to teach him.” He replied.

Robby chuckled and held back the urge to shove him. “You’re forgetting that I am the only thing between safety and falling back on your ass right now.” He teased.

The old men laughed, but not like usual. Like they were boys again, fresh out of medical school, having fun before they had split for different residency programs. Just like old times. As if on cue, tiny screams could be heard from the bleachers outside the rink. Robby’s wife was bouncing baby Abbot in her arms, trying to soothe him, with Dana at her side. She looked out to the ice desperately, and Robby let out a sigh. He looked at you, brow furrowed with conflict.

“I need to go help her. You got him?” He asked.

The look in his eyes transcended the simple question. Asking not if you could keep him from falling, but if you could care for him. If you could support him more than just on the ice rink. If you could handle him. You nodded, wrapping your arm tighter around Jack’s waist. “I’ve got him.” You affirmed, a small nod to let him know that you read past the question.

Robby smiled slightly and let go of Jack. “Alright, brother. Stay with her, alright?” He said before quickly moving off the rink to tend to his family, Eliza following behind him.

After a few moments of shuffling carefully, never fully picking your skates off the ice, you spoke up. “I’m sorry for pushing you to do this. You weren’t comfortable.” You apologized.

Jack stopped his movements, pulling you back to him when you glided a couple of inches ahead. “I needed this.” He replied, squeezing your hand tightly. He led your hand to his chest, then wrapped his arms around your waist. “I need you.” He added.

His breath was hot on your cheeks, warming from the cold air that surrounded you. You rubbed small circles on his chest, able to trace the muscles that hid beneath his shirt. “Need me how?” You asked.

A smile tugged at the corner of his lips. “In every sense of the word.” He leaned closer, your noses brushing. “I need you.” He repeated.

His lips captured yours in a tender kiss, and he pulled your body as close as it could get to his, threatening to combine skin cells together. One hand trailed to his jaw, massaging the muscles there as he brushed his tongue against your lips. Fortunately, you were snapped back to reality and reminded of your public location because a shriek from the bleachers rang through the rink: 

“Mommy! Daddy! They’re kissing just like you said!” 

—

In the car on the way home, Robby and his wife whispered quietly as he drove, careful not to wake the exhausted kids in the backseat. 

“He’s in love with her.” He finally suggested.

His wife looked at him, an eyebrow raised. “How do you know?” She asked.

Robby smiled and squeezed her hand he held across the console. “Because he’s looking at her the way I look at you.” 

She smiled bashfully and shook her head. “Be serious.”

“I am. Jack never even looked at his first wife that way. There’s a connection between them that’s just…different. I saw it tonight with my own eyes.” He explained, twirling the wedding and engagement ring on her finger.

“They’re taking it slow. Much slower than we did.” She teased.

Robby chuckled, bringing her hand to his lips. “It’s hard to take it slow with you. With that laugh. That smile. That body…” He trailed his kisses up her forearm, still managing to watch the road.

“Robby, stop it.” His wife demanded, but she didn’t really mean it.

“I think Abbot wants to be a big brother.” 

“Michael!”

--

A/N: Thank y'all for reading! I don't know why but I just have this headcanon where Robby and Jack used to play pick-up hockey before his accident. Thank you all for reading! Chapter 4 will be a veryyy spicy one!

The General Masterlist

As the General of the Roman army, General Marcus has strengthened his reputation as a strong, capable, brutal man. You can't help but want him though, and he can't seem to help himself either.

a/n; There is no overarching story for these two, there will be no end, I want this to be a world we can dip back into at any time. Please feel free to send asks about them, to ask for headcanons and details. A warning though; this isn't a relationship in the traditional sense. There is a huge power-imbalance and for the purposes of the story, it will not change. We're also going quite rogue here since the movie hasn't come out. (Edit; I lied. They have feelings and the story is definitely going somewhere. There is still room to dip in between the beginning and the end though so ask away and I will make it work!)

Every post will have it's own warnings

I. the general

II. the baths

III. crossing the line

IV. unclean

V. greedy

VI. convivium

VII. distraction

VIII. attack on the villa

IX. too close

X. vita nova

---

Asks and previews (before chapter X)

Sneak peek of chapter IX

Sneak peek of chapter X

sneak peek of chapter XI

corrupted (ask)

soak (ask)

covetous (ask)

regrets (ask)

ache (ask)

lesson (ask)

F!Reader x Dr. Jack Abbot! <3 little oneshot

Sum: you answer a small newspaper ad, which leads to you living with the one and only, Dr. Jack Abbot.

Cw: “and they were roommates” trope ish? Younger female reader, age gap relationship, roommates, Jack has night terrors, widow Jack Abbot, fluff. Your a ghost writer of smut bc that’s my favorite c: MDNI not proofread

The house was too empty. Too quite. Too much for one person to take care of. It was supposed their dream home, but his late-wife never got to see it.

Never got to be carried through the threshold, never got to have morning coffee with him at the book nook, or enjoy the fire pit.

His therapist says he finds comfort in the dark but also in the barren. Never giving life to the home that was supposed to be theirs, even years later.

So when she suggests a roommate, Abbot quite literally doesn’t know what to do with that. There was plenty of room, sure, but did he really want that?

Looking around, he knows he could use someone’s help. It’s too much house, too suffocating on days like this.

Sighing, he reaches for the local pitts area newspaper for the add space number. It’s old school, almost dead but if anyone’s gonna live here with him, they should at least know what a newspaper is.

Looking for a quiet roommate. 49, Male. Looking for someone to help manage an old house for less rent. I work night shifts. No loud parties or gatherings. Contact at *********

——

Meeting you felt like a twist of fate. Some people had responded sure, but none he took seriously until he heard your soft voice over the phone.

New to the city, a writer by trade, so you assured him quite days and help around the house. You mostly worked from home and he had at least 20 years on you.

But god were you charming, he thinks swallowing as he helps you move in your small boxes.

“Dr. Abbot? Is there anything I should do or not touch?.” You asks as you settle another box on the kitchen counter. You didn’t have much but it was enough to fill the small guest room across his.

You were so grateful to have found the ad, you quite literally shook calling him. The house was perfect, yet empty, you note. Must be because he works night shifts, you think taking every thing in. It doesn’t help the good doctor is wildly attractive.

“Jus’ need some help talking care of this old thing during the day, cleaning and stuff if you don’t mind kid. Just.. just stay away from the closet at the end of the hall upstairs” he tells you, a far away look in his eyes for a moment before a little smirk graces his handsome face.

“Oh and no fires if you can help it. Firefighters are my enemy,” making you giggle.

“Sir yes sir!” You say while giving him a little salute, making him laugh. After helping you move, you’ll be honest, you rarely see him at first.

You hear him come home and leave, saying “goodbye” and “welcome home” when you catch him but never getting to really know eachother, with the both of you focused on work. You were just two roommates, trying to survive.

——

That was, until you started leaving him leftovers, feeling bad there was never much in the fridge for him. That small decisions led you to start a breakfast routine together. You shared little tired laughs and always fought on who did the dishes after.

Until you started packing lunches for him, after quickly making yourself dinner. The first time he noticed you left him food to take, his heart thumped in ways he hadn’t felt in years.

Until you started working in the living room, the little book nook becoming your spot. He’d sometimes find you passed out on it, curled up like a cute rabbit. On those days, you’d always wake up covered by a soft blanket, smelling suspiciously like a certain doctor.

Until you started leaving fresh flowers in the living room, which make him still and smile looking at them. One day, there was a small bottle of aroma massage oil next to them and a little note saying “to help with the pain!,” in your curly writing. He carries that little bottle and note with him everywhere.

Until the house started looking and feeling more like a home

Until he had his first night terror in years.

——

It started with whimpers. Fear reached you as you shot up, thunder and raining muddling the sounds coming from the end of the hall.

You gently crept out of your room to stand in front of his closed door, stalling before turning the knob. You’d never gone in his room before, not even to clean.

You see Abbot sweating in his sleep, tossing and turning. He looks like his in pain and it’s killing you inside.

Slowly you make your way to him, gently sitting before rubbing small circles on his chest to soothe him. Little hums and shushes come out of you, as you go to rest against his headboard.

You try not to think about how firm him chest is, the little salt and pepper curls that match his hair or the scars that litter his body.

It’s takes time but you feel his body relax back into a peaceful sleep, as it reaches you too. Your soft snores fill the room, as you fall asleep next to the man you haven’t been able to stop thinking about.

——

He’s confused at first. Waking up to you curled softly against him, face nuzzled against his chest. He’s alarmed, body tensing unsure of what to do. A small part of him wants to go back to bed, pull you closer and sleep and another wants to run. His tense body wakes you up and the part that wants to run, shushes, looking at your sleepy face and tussled hair.

Your eyes widen as you realize you fell asleep against him.

“I’m so sorry! You.. you were having a nightmare and I came to check and I’m sorry I didn’t mean to fall asleep here”

You look away, unable to make eye contact in shame as he swallows heavily.

His arms stop you from leaving as he tells you it’s okay. “I’m sorry I get.. from the war. I get nightmares sometimes. Thank you.. for helping me”

You couldn’t help but smile carefully. “It’s okay, I’m here for you”

——

Things changed at a rapid pace from there with Abbot, now Jack.

You were both each others closest companion. You spent his off days together, continued your shared meals and learned more than you dreamed of.

From his deployments, his late wife, his love of pineapple pizza and more.

Giggling you can’t help but recall when his red tinted cheeks when he learned about your job as a ghost writer for small smut books. It became natural, to seek eachother out, and one way or another, you always ended up in his bed.

Snuggled asleep in his arms, the two of you refused to say anything about this new tradition. The fear of breaking the comfort it brings stops you both.

Your pillows and blankets join the bed, and the room becomes more and more “our room” then his.

——

Robby can’t help but notice a small pep in Abbots step. How he suddenly comes in with well packed food and how his eyes looked brighter. Suspicion runs deep, as he wonders what changed for him.

“Getting more sleep brother?” He asks, watching Abbot get ready to leave.

Abbot can’t help but smirk “something like that”

——

The warm months great you as you and Jack settle closer into each others hearts.

He ponders, if he should ask. Ask what this is as he watches you plant flowers in his garden. His home is beautiful now, he thinks, like you.

“I think, I think we should have a house warming party.”

You can’t help but laugh as you glance up at him from the flower beds, “Can it be a housewarming if you’ve been here for years?”

“Never had or wanted one before. Seems like we should change that sweetheart”

Jack walks over steadily to you, kneeling to kiss you on your forehead.

You understand, and agree completely.

——

The backyard is bustling with new life. The flowers you planted being ‘oohed’ and ‘ahhed’ at, as you’re introduced to all of Jacks friends and coworkers.

You find yourself particularly drawn to Mel and Langdon, giggling up a storm with the two of them.

Jack can’t help but watch you from the corner of his eyes, not quite focused on his conversation with Dana and Robby.

“So” Robby inturpts his thoughts of you. “How long have you been dating her?”

Jacks eyes brows raise, a crinkle settling into his forehead.

He shrugs, trying to appear nonchalant. “We’re just roommates”

Dana and Robby can’t help but share a tired and concerned look.

“Jack, she lives with you. Cooks for you. Decorates your home and entertains your friends for you. If I had roommates like that I’d probably have more kids ” Dana says, trying to get a better answer from him.

“She’s young, we don’t want to see you hurt brother,”but Jack shrugs off both if their worries again, taking a sip of his beer.

A small smile appears on his face as he watches you mingle, knowing he didn’t have to worry about you or the ring in his nightstand.

been loving the jack abbott fics soooo much!!!

A request for a potential fic about Jack. I was thinking something along the lines of his wife is maybe in the Peds/Psych department and comes to consult in the ER sometimes. The newbies don't know her as Jack's wife, but just the kind peds/Psych doc and then something something they discover she's Jack's wife and they're all like "how did that happen?"

thank uuu!!! this is a good one!!

The Other Dr Abbott

Pairing: Dr Jack Abbott x Wife!Reader

“Vitals are stable but he’s swinging between psychosis and charm like a damn metronome,” Santos muttered, watching the patient over the rim of her coffee cup.

Jack Abbott stood by the trauma bed, expression unreadable, arms crossed, as their patient—a shirtless man in his 30s with wild eyes and blood still drying under his nails—grinned up at the fluorescent lights like they were divine.

Dr. Whitaker explained the patient's history to Dr. Abbott, “He assaulted a pedestrian, bit a paramedic, and started quoting Shakespeare to the defibrillator. I think we’re out of our depth here.”

“Page psych,” Jack said without looking up.

“Already did,” Santos replied. “They said Dr. Abbot’s on call.”

Javadi looked up sharply. “But he’s standing right here.”

Jack sighed. “No. The other Dr. Abbot.”

Santos blinked. “There’s... two?”

Whitaker’s brows furrowed. “Is she your sister or something?”

But before they could interrogate further, the doors swung open.

In walked her—the hospital’s most requested psychiatrist. Elegant. Kind. Intimidating in the quietest way possible. She had a pen behind her ear, a folder under one arm, and a calm confidence that silenced the room the moment she entered.

“Hi,” she said gently. “I heard you needed psych?”

The patient lit up. “Ohhhh. There she is. Finally. Someone beautiful around here.”

Jack’s jaw ticked. “Watch it.”

The patient smirked. “What? Just saying. You all bring me the mean doctor with the wavey hair, but then this goddess walks in? Tell me you see it. She's the moon and you’re... I dunno. A pencil.”

Javadi bit her lip. Santos turned away, grinning.

The psychiatrist pulled on gloves with practiced grace. “I’m here to help, Mr. Reed. Can you tell me how you’re feeling right now?”

“Like I’ve seen heaven,” he said smoothly. “And heaven is you. Are you single?”

Jack stepped forward. “She’s married.”

The patient cocked his head, eyes narrowing like he suddenly understood something far more interesting. “Wait a second... no way.”

“What?” Santos asked.

The patient pointed at Jack, then her. “You’re married. You two. I see it now. That stare. The way you hovered when I called her beautiful? You’re totally married.”

Silence.

Then:

“She’s your wife?” Whitaker all but gasped, looking at Jack like he’d just revealed he was an alien.

Jack didn’t blink. “Yeah.”

Santos’s mouth dropped open. “Hold on—how long has that been a thing?”

“Seven years,” she answered calmly, scribbling notes onto her chart.

Javadi stared. “You mean to tell me we’ve been working beside both of you this whole time and never knew?”

“We keep it professional,” she said, glancing at Jack, who was clearly trying to sink through the floor.

The patient beamed, delighted. “This is way better than when I saw a guy get tasered in the cafeteria.”

“Please sedate him,” Jack muttered.

His wife smirked. “Not yet. He’s lucid enough to spill tea.”

Santos laughed so hard she had to turn around. Whitaker looked like he was trying to solve an algebra problem with no numbers.

“But—but she’s so nice,” he mumbled.

“She is,” Jack said flatly. “And she married me anyway. Try not to think too hard about it.”

As she moved to the side of the bed, the patient winked at her. “I’m just saying... you could’ve done better.”

Jack leaned down, eyeing him coldly. “Say that again and I will intubate you awake.”

Everyone blinked.

The patient raised both hands. “Okay damn. The wave’s kinda hot now that I get the context.”

Javadi crossed her arms. “Well, now I get why he punched that radiologist last year for calling her sweetheart.”

Jack didn’t deny it.

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.

Lean On Me (Part 1/?)

Pairing: Dr Michael 'Robby" Rabinovitch x younger! Langdon's little sister! reader

Reader is the youngest sister to Frank and is called back from Europe to care for her brother.

Warnings: talk about rehab, drug use, casual drinking, slow burn (maybe).

You woke with a screaming headache and your phone ringing, the small rectangle vibrating so much it had fallen from your bedside and was halfway under the bed before you had a chance to grab it.

You swear under your breath at the brightness, your hostel room was pitch black as your phone told you it was 2am, just an hour or so after you had stumbled from a nightclub and into your bed. 

“Turn that off.” muttered a voice beside you and you pulled the blanket further up your body. You had forgotten that in the midst of a night of drinking, and dancing you had brought home a ‘guest’.

You don’t bother uttering an apology before getting out of the bed and going to the bathroom and slamming the door shut. Your last hundred euros had gone to this single room in a Hungarian hostel after months of living with ten random strangers, and on your first night you had decided to invite someone back. 

You slam your head back against the closed door and took a deep breath. You’d been in Europe for five months now, any savings you had had left after sorting out your family's drama and almost all of it was gone now between transport and living costs, bar your emergency ‘the world is ending’ fund. 

But this had been your dream once, cut out photos of ancient architecture and historical locations from national geographic magazines had been plastered on your bedroom wall, your locker and phone case, all you had wanted while you worked three jobs and took care of your family was to one day stand in the shadows of castles and cathedrals. So you had used every last dollar to get yourself to Europe, while your friends at home settled into careers, and life.

Your phone buzzed again, pulling you back to the present. 

Your mother was calling.

She had called 15 times according to your cracked phone screen.

Fuck!

“Hi Ma!” you say, as fake cheerfully as you can at 2am after a night of drinking and half an hour of sleep.

“Where have you been! I have been calling for hours!”

Half an hour at most you think to yourself before swallowing a sigh.

“Sorry Ma, it's like 2 am here! What's wrong?”

Your mother huffs and you can almost picture her in the kitchen, cigarette in one hand, a forgotten glass of wine in the other no matter the time of day. 

You do the maths, it's probably around 4pm in Pittsburgh.

 “You need to come home now! It’s your brother.”

Your stomach dropped and your knees buckled. Frank was your big brother, a larger than life figure in your universe, who you had spent many years protecting from your parents, and making sure he had everything he needed to get through life with as little bumps as possible. But in the last few years everything had calmed down on the Frank front, he had gotten married when his girlfriend got pregnant, then another kid had come quickly after that. He had gotten his residency at the local hospital in the town they had grown up in. He had his life on the right track.

“What-” you try to ask for more information but you can’t breath, you can’t stand any longer and the cool, very gross tiles on the hostel bathroom felt like heaven against your now clammy skin.

“Rehab, they sent him to rehab!” 

“What for?”

And with one word your world fell apart and you were back on a plane.

Drugs.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

It should be illegal for the sun to shine so brightly when you have no time to appreciate it. Pittsburgh had decided to pull out all the stops for a beautiful day, the sun was shining, there were birds singing in the trees and even a butterfly had landed on your jacket as you rushed from Frank's apartment to the rehabilitation facility. 

The only dampening thing about the day was you, as you huffed at the butterfly and sent glaring looks at anyone who tried to make small talk as you waited for the bus, then walked the additional mile from the stop to the door. Your mood was foul and your temper worse.

At 29 years of age you were officially feeling like an old curmudgeon, and after spending the majority of your life looking after your parents and brother, you had thought yourself finally free from their shackles but it had taken one phone call and one overdrawn charge on your credit card to find yourself once again at the mercy of your family.

You tried to remind yourself daily that it wasn’t Frank's fault, addiction is a disease, and one with no real cure.  But it’s hard to do that after two weeks filled with appointments with his therapists, his counsellors and then a stilted dinner last night with his apparently ex-wife and kids which ended up with you getting a puppy dumped in your lap.

The said puppy then spent all night crying on your pillow before peeing in your still unpacked suitcase.

The said peeing in the suitcase meant you were now wearing yesterday's underwear which you had washed in the sink, and one of Frank's shirts, which was tiny on your larger frame, the word PITTSBURGH now stretch tight over your tits.

The rehab facility was nice, a modern building amongst turn of the last century offices. You walked past it twice on the first day, it blended it well to the built up area. 

You had wanted to send Frank to a rehabilitation centre further out of town, somewhere with a big garden, but between the three credit cards you had taken out and the very last of your emergency ‘the world is ending’ funds, an inner city place was the best you could get.

In your brother's defense he hadn’t complained about the location or the facilities, instead on his good days he spent most of his time trying his best to be positive about the whole thing. On his bad days, the location was the last thing he cared about, he just wanted to scream and throw things at you when you refused to let him leave.

Frank wasn’t in his room when you got there, and you knew he didn’t have group therapy or a one on one session this afternoon so you wandered from room to room, looking for him, smiling at the nurses and orderlies that now knew you by name. 

You located Frank in the back common room, hunched over a table with a stranger, a game of chess half played between them.

You couldn’t hear what was being said but you could see the tension in your brother's shoulders and your stomach dropped. 

It was going to be a bad day.

Great.

“Hey Frank.” 

He looks at you as you approach, as does the stranger who offers you a weak smile with sad eyes. You get a lot of sad eyes thrown your way nowadays, from the nurses at the centre to Frank's neighbours who know why you are there and he is not.

“What do you want?” your brother asks, venom lacing each word.

“Just come to say hi, and see if you want a game but it looks like you have company.” you hate how small your voice sounds.

The stranger gets up from the chair and gestures to you to take his place but you shake your head.

“I don’t want you here, I told you that yesterday.” Frank hissed through his teeth, his attention back at the chessboard as his fingers tapped against the plastic chess set, “Go back to fucking around Europe or whatever.”

He had said the same thing yesterday morning, but after a counselling session with Frank's doctors you were told to ignore what he says in anger and to reach out with him daily, if possible, he has to know that his family is with him and that he has the support from them, no matter what.

You were also told to try and prioritise your own mental health when you can, but who has time for that.

So you returned, as you would every day, until he was out of the facility. You would then live with him, supervising visits with him and the children and then get him back to work. 

You took care of your family, you had since you were thirteen years old. 

“Just thought I would come anyway,” you said cheerfully, “I baked cookies last night and they are chocolate chips, your favourite.” it was a complete lie, you had bought them from the shops and decanted them into tupperware containers last night. 

Frank just ignored you and the tupperware you placed on the table, just playing his move and then gesturing for the other man to play on.

But the stranger couldn’t stop staring at you, he was handsome in an older man way with a well kept beard and brown hair that looked like it was due for a trim. Dressed in a hoodie and well worn jeans, he looked like someone you would swipe right on, if you had the time to get back on the apps.

But you didn't and the way he was looking you up and down was unnerving especially as your brother ignores you and wishes to continue with his game.

A lump forms in your throat and you feel panic rising in your chest as you sit there watching your brother continue to ignore you. The stranger kept staring even as it was his turn to play. And you'd just sit there waiting for Frank to say something, do something to acknowledge your existence. 

Until you can't take it anymore.

"I guess I'll go, Frank, and I'll see you tomorrow." your words come out stilted and with almost no emotion. 

He made a rude gesture with his hand before you grabbed your bag and left. 

You're outside the rehabilitation centre before you even know it, and suddenly you wash with emotion. Everything hurts, your body, your head, your heart as you fall to the floor and cry, heaving as the thought of leaving your brother there another day rips into you. He was your Big Brother and you were meant to protect him. That is what you were told since you were a child. And he was the one who was so smart and going to go places and you were nothing but his kid sister.

You couldn't blame Frank for this moment of weakness, of the disease that was ripping through his life, ending his career, his marriage and any relationship he has at the current point with his children. You couldn’t even blame your parents. Your dad for his own alcoholism, your mom for her own absent mindedness, for both of your parents only thinking of the potential of one of their two children. You cannot blame anybody, but you wished you could at that moment. 

You are thankful that it was only 11.00am on a weekday. There were little to no people on the streets to witness your breakdown as you let all the emotions out of your body, tears streaming down your face, your mascara completely ruined. 

Suddenly a hand grabs onto your shoulder and pulls you out of the mania, your tear filled eyes meet big sad brown eyes. 

The stranger had followed you outside. 

“I never introduced myself,” he said. His voice was like honey. He pulled a tissue packet from the pocket of his jeans. You blow your nose ungracefully, cringing internally at the noise, "I'm Doctor Michael Robinovich."

He put out his hand to shake yours and you took it, too stunned to say anything else. The Stranger- No- Dr Robinavoch continues to stare, the big brown eyes looking into your soul as you both stand awkwardly outside the rehab center, no one knowing what to say. He then smiles and asks “Do you want to get a cup of coffee?”

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